A Nighttime of Forever

by Matthew S. Cox

  Dad holds his hands up like he’s picturing some grand scheme. “Some night we’ll have to go out and either do a time run or use the car to pace you.”

  “Jonathan,” says Mom. “This isn’t a new toy. This is our daughter.”

  “Pacing won’t work. Not the way you drive.” I wag my eyebrows.

  “That fast?” Dad mouths wow.

  “What do you mean, ‘that fast’? I’m pretty sure I can fly faster than forty-five.”

  Mom snickers.

  “I was thinking I might apply for night classes locally. I can still do a comp-sci program. And a lot of programming jobs are work-at-home anyway, so it won’t matter if I can’t go outside during the day.”

  Dad beams.

  “You want to be a programmer?” asks Mom.

  Her tone makes Dad smirk. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Oh, nothing. I just didn’t think she was that interested in tech. And she hates math.”

  I fold my arms. “I don’t hate math, it just pisses me off. I’m thinking of going into video game design or programming. Not whatever Dad does.”

  “Lot of math still.” Dad chuckles. “It’s not as bad as you think though.”

  “Right, but it’s something I can do in the dark. And it’s better than, like, being a security guard.”

  “You a security guard?” Dad blinks.

  “What? My size doesn’t exactly matter anymore. The boredom would kill me though.”

  Dad nods. “True.”

  “So you guys are okay if I look into night school? I know you wanted me to go to college.”

  “Hon,” says Mom. “You should go if you want to go, not because we want you to.”

  Holy shit. I guess dying really hit them hard. Either that or I didn’t wake back up, but instead slipped into a parallel world where vampires do exist and my parents have been replaced by close-but-inexact replicas. “Umm. Yeah, it’s cool. I do want to go. Just didn’t plan on still living here. But… after what happened, I kinda wanna stay. Sorry if I’m gonna be the kid that’s thirty and still living in their parents’ basement, but at least I’ll always look like I’m eighteen.”

  They both smile and get misty-eyed.

  “All right, you can stay, but we don’t want you leaving any bodies in the yard,” says Dad.

  I laugh until it hits me that I’m not sure if he’s kidding. “Wait. You’re serious? You expected that to be a possibility and still let me stay? Holy crap, guys… I’m not gonna kill anyone.”

  “I was trying to make a joke there.” Dad flashes a cheesy smile.

  Mom glances at her phone again. “I need to pick Sophia up.”

  An odd urge pushes me to my feet. “I’ll go with you.”

  “It’s not nine yet. I think the sun is still technically up,” says Dad.

  I hurry over to the front door and ease back the curtain on the window. The rain’s stopped, but it’s super dreary out. Heat radiates off the glass like I’m in an air-conditioned room in the middle of August. Noticeable, but not scary. Hmm. I pull the door open and stick a hand out. It feels warm, with a little prickling, but nowhere near close to being painful. And I don’t have that inner voice telling me get the hell inside before you die like I did this morning.

  “I think I’m good.” I step into a pair of my flats by the door.

  Mom grabs her purse and walks over to claim her shoes. “All right. If you think it’s safe.”

  “Yeah.” I smile, though my heart’s not in it. I’m worried. Something feels wrong, but the wrongness isn’t coming from me going outside before sunset.

  When I leave the house, it feels like summer. A heavy, humid summer. There wouldn’t be a lot of daylight left at this hour in clear weather, and the stormy sky is a blessing. On the way to Mom’s Yukon, the distinct feeling of someone watching us comes out of nowhere. Unnerved, I traipse off the walkway onto the lawn and peer around the side of the house, but don’t see anything. The truck starts behind me, headlight glare making everything seem darker.

  “Are you coming?” asks Mom.

  “Yeah,” I mumble.

  After another quick look around without finding anyone, I jog around to the passenger side and hop in. Mom backs us out of the driveway. Again, I have a moment of feeling so normal, the emotion gets me. Riding in the truck with Mom is one of those little things I must’ve done a million times and never thought anything of it. What they say about your life flashing before your eyes when you die? Yeah, that’s a load of crap. I barely had time to think ‘oh shit, that hurt’ before I woke up in the morgue.

  I rub the spot again and peek down the neck of my dress. “Oops. Forgot to put a bra on.”

  “Meh. Sometimes the girls need to breathe,” says Mom. “You know I read on Facebook that doctors think wearing bras actually causes long-term injury.”

  “And yeah, everything on Facebook is clearly true.”

  She laughs. “Hey, you wanna swing by Starbucks on the… oops. Sorry.”

  “Sure. It’s cool. I can still have that stuff… just doesn’t do anything for me but taste.”

  An odd feeling pulls my attention to the rearview mirror. For a second, I could swear someone’s chasing us on foot off the side of the road, but the figure vanishes. Headlight glare behind us makes looking too painful, so I twist back around and glower at the windshield. Oncoming traffic is also scorching my eyes.

  “Gah.” I cringe away from the glare, and at that moment, the world goes dark. Not blackout dark, but I can barely see my mother in the glow from the dashboard.

  “What’s wrong?” asks Mom.

  “The headlights are so damn bright it hurts. I think they burned out my eyes. I can barely see anything now.”

  She glances at me for a second. “Aren’t you supposed to heal injuries right away?”

  “Yeah, but…” I stare at her. “Wow, Mom. That sounds so weird to hear you say.”

  Mom shrugs one shoulder and adjusts her grip on the wheel. “It’s our new reality, hon.”

  I grin. The strange darkness goes away, and my eyes go back to their new normal… until I look up and get headlights in the face. I glare out my side window, away from traffic, until my eyes again turn the night to that bizarre not-daylight. Is this happening because I’m technically out too early? When I think about the darkness again, it comes back. Eep! Wait… don’t panic. I think about seeing into the dark again and my vision shifts.

  Oh, hang on. I get it. It’s just like in Call of Duty with the NV goggles―except vampire eyes do black and white instead of making everything green. I can turn it on and off. It’s just been on all the time since I ‘woke up.’

  “Aha. Mystery solved. I think I can turn my night eyes off and on.”

  “Is there a reason you’d want to turn it off?” asks Mom. “If I could see in the dark, I’d always use it.”

  “Well, headlights.” I gesture at the windshield, then whirl my hand about. “And I guess if I go into a place with like melt-your-face-off fluorescent lights.”

  “Oh, like Sophia’s dance class.” Mom grins. “I swear they’re trying to give the girls a tan.”

  “Ooh. I better not go in there then or I’ll catch fire.”

  She clutches the wheel tighter. “Is that possible?”

  “No, Mom. Only sunlight… but maybe a big UV lamp could hurt me. I dunno.”

  We spend a few minutes discussing the danger levels of various forms of artificial light until Mom pulls in to the parking lot of the dance studio, which is part of a strip mall. We luck out and find a spot close to the storefront. Mom throws the Yukon into park right as the studio doors open and a pack of tweens emerges, thirty girls and two boys.

  Mom shifts mental gears at the sight of a girl a little younger looking than Sophia with a black pixie cut and a skimpy two-piece outfit. “How are that girls’ parents letting her go outside dressed like that? Good grief, Sarah. The girl’s way too young to be sexed up. I’ve half a mind to find her mother and slap some sens
e into her.”

  “I could make an adjustment if you want.” I wink.

  Sophia appears in the queue near the back of the crowd, in her purple one-piece, lavender tights, and ballet slippers. The group of kids and parents squishes into a narrow line to fit through the doors. My sister’s bouncing on her toes and chatting with a couple of other girls, all shuffling inch by inch toward the exit.

  “No, don’t do that. But it’s not right to send a nine-year-old out the door half-dressed.” Mom pushes her door open.

  Motion to the right of the dance studio catches my eye. A man lurking there is eyeing the river of kids spilling into the lot and scattering to waiting cars. Right as Sophia reaches the outside, he starts moving toward the group.

  Shit!

  I bolt out of the car and rush as fast as I can move to my sister’s side. The storefront flies at me; in about a second, I’m standing next to Sophia and her friends. A cloud of fruit-scented shampoo mixed with sweat and some horrible perfume punches me square in the sinuses. The girls she’s been chatting with yelp, jumping at my sudden appearance. Sophia stares at me, open-mouthed. For a moment, she seems about to burst into tears―her usual reaction to being startled―but she winds up smiling. Fortunately, other than the three of them, no one else seems to have noticed my impossibly fast sprint.

  “Hi, Sare!”

  I grab her hand and shoot a glare at the corner of the building. The man’s gone. I’ve got no explanation for why that guy would target my sister specifically out of all these kids, but something inside me knew he wanted her. The sense that someone had been there won’t leave me alone, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I get a whiff of blood on the breeze.

  “I thought your sister got hurt,” says a red-haired girl.

  “Yeah,” adds another kid who looks Chinese. “You said she, umm… died.”

  Sophia shakes her head. “The hospital made a mistake. My parents are really mad.”

  “Cool.” The redhead smiles at me. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

  “Me too,” I say.

  After she says goodbye to her dance class buddies, I lead Sophia back to the truck. Mom, still one leg in, stares at me the whole time we walk over. Oops. I must’ve broken the sound barrier running to Sophia. My sister scrambles up into the back seat and pulls the door shut.

  “What happened?” whispers Mom.

  “Umm.” I stare into her eyes, wanting to tell her about the guy, but I don’t want to spook Sophia. She’d have nightmares for weeks.

  Mom blinks. “A man?”

  Huh, what? I tilt my head at Mom and think, Wait, you heard me?

  She nods.

  Oh, cool! I’m psychic!

  Mom folds her arms. “I think we figured that out already when you reprogrammed Giancarlo.”

  An innocent shrug with cheesy grin doesn’t impress her. Some guy was stalking Sophia. I don’t know why, but I knew he was going to do something, like maybe grab her. Mom wonders why a creep would go for Sophia and not the other girl who barely had anything on, then feels like shit for wishing badness on the poor kid.

  We hop in the truck and Sophia starts telling us about an upcoming recital she’s both excited about and terrified of. She likes dancing for doing it, not so much performing with an audience.

  A few minutes into the ride home, we’ve all gone quiet, listening to the sound of the tires on the road.

  “I’m sorry,” says Sophia. “For putting the makeup on. You look kinda creepy when you sleep.”

  I manage to smile. “It’s all right, but you should probably apologize to Mom for raiding her cabinet.”

  “Sorry,” says Sophia.

  A minute or two pass in silence before a sudden red light catches us. Mom’s iPhone rattles around in the cup holder between us when she hits the brakes a bit hard.

  “Oh, did they give you back my stuff while I was asleep? I really miss my phone.”

  “No… not yet. I don’t know what they did with it,” says Mom. “Maybe the police have it for evidence.”

  I grab her phone. “Got a bad feeling. What’s your code?”

  Mom reaches over and taps it in. “What kind of bad feeling?”

  “Unexplainable.” I go into the contact list and poke the entry for Sierra’s cell, fidgeting while it rings―until it clicks to voice mail. “She didn’t pick up.”

  Mom slows to a stop at a red light and stares at me. “Who didn’t pick up?”

  “I called Sierra. Rang to voice mail.”

  Sophia gasps. “Ooh… She’s in trouble! We can’t ignore Mom calling.”

  Mom twists a little more to look at Sophia. “That’s right, but if it’s not her fault she didn’t answer, she won’t get in trouble.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be her fault?” asks Sophia.

  “Well.” Mom stammers. “Umm. If…”

  “She’s in the bathroom or something,” I say, and try again.

  Mom nods. “Yes, like that. Being in the bathroom.”

  The line answers after four rings, but it’s silent.

  “Hello?” I ask. “Sierra? It’s me, Sarah. Are you there?”

  A whispery voice with a hint of femininity says, “Come alone.”

  My eyes widen.

  Muffled screaming follows, like an eleven-year-old with tape over her mouth. Curiously, she sounds angry instead of frightened.

  “Where!” I yell. “Come alone where?!”

  The other end hangs up.

  “What’s happening?” shouts Mom.

  “Umm.” I glance back at Sophia, who’s gone wide-eyed and shivering. Crap. She heard that. No sense being evasive. “Someone’s kidnapped Sierra.”

  “What? No!” roars Mom. “Where is she?!”

  Sophia wails, “What happened to Sierra?”

  “They said ‘come alone,’ but didn’t say where to go.” I dial her again, but it goes to voicemail after ringing a bunch of times.

  “Call the police,” says Mom. “Something’s going on. First Sophia, now Sierra?”

  “Huh?” asks Sophia in a brittle whisper. “What about me?”

  “I thought I saw someone trying to sneak up on you, but I’m just being overprotective,” I say. “Maybe I got some kind of premonition that Sierra was in trouble and it manifested as a shadow going after Soph instead.”

  Mom looks at me with hard eyes.

  I don’t know, but I’m trying to keep Sophia from having nightmares.

  “Oh.” Mom relaxes the glare, and nods.

  Absentmindedly, I flip the phone over and over in my hand. It’s not mine, but having a cell phone in my grip feels like another step taken back to normal. Where the heck am I supposed to go? I glare at the phone, about to call again when it hits me.

  “Wait. I can use the nanny app to find Sierra’s phone.”

  Mom shakes her head. “We have to call the police.”

  “They didn’t say anything until I spoke. The caller ID would’ve said Mom. They told me to come alone. What if it’s someone who knows what I am? And… something else doesn’t make sense.”

  We take the next turn hard enough to make Sophia whimper.

  “What?” asks Mom.

  “Sierra―if that even was her―sounded pissed, not frightened. I think she knows the person who grabbed her, or for some reason isn’t afraid of them. Maybe she’s conspiring with Michelle and Ashley to freak me out and get me back for making them think I died.”

  “Ash wouldn’t do that to you,” says Sophia.

  “I don’t think so either, but I can get there a lot faster than cops. And if it is vampire related, we need to keep the cops away from it.”

  Mom jams on the brakes again, unable to beat a traffic light for the second time in five minutes.

  Sophia flies into the back of Mom’s seat with a squeaky “Oof.”

  “You expect me to do what?” My mother stares at me, shaking. “Just sit around waiting.”

  “I’m gonna find her, Mom.” I narrow my eyes
out the window. “If she’s hurt, Dad’s gonna have to help me hide a body.”

  Friends with Pointy Benefits

  17

  Mom nearly rams the garage door when she screeches to a halt in our driveway.

  A man and a woman in black raincoats on our porch cringe from the headlight glare. Sophia spots them and clings to Mom after jumping out of the Yukon. I slide from my seat and nudge the door shut, still holding the phone. Before Mom moves toward the house, I storm around the front end of the truck and put myself between her and the visitors.

  They approach with pleasant smiles I don’t trust for a hot second. He’s thirty-something with short brown hair and sharp creases in his face around his mouth. The woman’s Asian and pretty, her black hair tucked up in a bun. As soon as I look at the man, I’m sure he suspects me of being a vampire. The woman’s a total blank as far as peering into her mind goes. She’s giving off nothing beyond a plastic ‘trust me’ expression.

  “Good evening, Miss Wright,” says the man. “I’m Agent Kendricks, and this is my associate, Agent Han.”

  “I’m a little busy at the moment.” I glance back and forth between them. “Can this wait?”

  “We’ve seen some rather interesting surveillance video of you, and we’d like to discuss it.” He smiles.

  Agent Han’s eyebrows tick up a notch, but I can’t tell if she’s impressed or surprised.

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll talk to you, but not right now. Someone’s kidnapped my little sister.”

  Dad opens the front door. He spots us standing in the driveway, glances at the Men in Black on the walkway between it and the porch, and wanders over barefoot. “Uhh, something I can help with? Sorry I didn’t get to the door right away, you caught me in the can.”

  “Is Sam still here?” I ask.

  “Far as I know.” Dad glances back at the house. “In his room on the computer.”

  I swipe at Mom’s phone until I find the nanny app. A few pokes at the screen brings up a map showing the location of Sierra’s phone―deep in the woods east of Lake Margaret. Shit. Someone really has her. My friends wouldn’t drag her that far away. Mom grabs my wrist and pulls the phone over to look. As soon as she sees the location, she gasps.

  “Mom,” I say. “Take Sophia and go inside. I got Sierra.”