by Jamie Ott
Chapter 1
Her father insisted they talk, down on the dock, privately.
For days, she’d been telling her parents to go away. Although it wasn’t so much that she wanted her father to leave, but her mother, well, that was another story.
Despite her telling him to go to hell, he bent over and picked her up from the bed. He carried her down the stairs, through the kitchen and down the wood slatted path. Then he put her down, gently, on the sun warmed bench.
“Ho-o-ow,” she spoke slowly, “did you find me?”
“I got my cell phone bill, and there were charges on Meghan’s account. We activated the GPS tracking on the phone, and here we are,” said her mother.
Starr lost her phone in a plane that went down on its way to Ukraine. Since then, she’d been using her sister’s old phone.
Slowly, she reached her hand up to her neck and was surprised to feel that the stitches, which had been holding her head to her neck the last week or so, had been removed.
She used all her strength and concentration to lower her hand onto to her lap, without it dropping like dead weight. When there’s no muscle control, or brain impulse, simple things like raising and lowering her hand had become near impossible.
“Where’s Meghan? Why do you have her cell phone?” asked her mother.
Since Mom had arrived, she had neither said “Hello,” “How are you,” or “How did you get like this?” The only thing she cared about was Meghan. Starr had been gone a year, without a word, but they didn’t seem to care very much about that.
Briefly, an image of Meghan, lying in a blood drenched bed, flashed in her mind.
A couple questions whizzed around in her mind. How much should she tell them? Would they believe her? Or would they blame her for everything, as they did when Meghan was abducted? Further, what would get them to leave the quickest?
She looked into her mother’s eyes, slowly opened her mouth to reply. For a moment, she almost told her the truth, but instead said, “I - I…” she muttered and then paused for the pain. “Don’t know.”
“What happened to you?” asked her father.
“I, uh.” She moaned in pain a second, and then continued, “don’t want to say.”
“Why not?” Her mother shouted.
“It’s… none… of… your… business.”
“Starr, you’ve had stitches all around your neck! You look like Frankenstein’s monster! I want answers, and I want them now!” she said, her face turning red.
As usual, her father just watched on, hardly saying anything. Never did he ever come to her defense.
Being spoken to like that reminded her that she was still, technically, a child and a minor. In the real world, she would have owed her an explanation, but now, things had changed.
Starr didn’t have the strength to reply. Since the accident, prolonged activity wore her out, quickly. Simply sitting and talking, as they did, was the worst because she was too weak for emotion and concentration.
She simply stared, willfully, into her eyes.
“Fine,” said her mother angrily. “I’ll go pack your things. Your father will put you in the car and…”
But Starr cut her off.
“I’m… not…. co- co-,“ she stuttered and choked. Words with hard C sounds were especially difficult. It had something to do with the way her throat had to form to get the sound out. Slowly, she rose, and skipping the word come, said, “hooome with you.”
“Oh, yes, you are!”
Her mother put her hand on her arm and yanked her back.
A loud animal growl issued, uncontrollably, from Starr’s throat, scaring her.
Mom yanked back her hand. Her mother and father stared disbelievingly at her. Slowly, they backed away.
Judging by the looks on their faces, she must have accidentally called forth her inner demon.
Pain and tiredness was winning her over, once more. She looked up the dock to see Misaki running to help her back up to the house.
She put Starr’s arm around her neck.
“This conversation is over,” she said. “You may, both, leave, now. When I wake, I don’t want to see you here.”
Then Misaki, carefully, guided her back up the slats of the dock, up the wooden path to the kitchen porch, and back inside the house.
Chaos reigned as usual. Mot, Danny and Kay fought over video games while Misty, Becky and Lucas chattered in the corner of the living room.
Ever since her accident, a lot of noise and commotion overwhelmed her, making her feel dizzy and disoriented. She often wished they would spend more time outside, but since being surprise-attacked by a dozen vampires, they were afraid to leave. Starr was their strongest protector, and with her barely able to move her limbs, they didn’t feel secure.
Misaki helped her up the stairs to her bedroom.
Once down on the bed, she said, “Mica?”
Mica was one of her closest friends and fellow vampire. Her hearing was most extraordinary. In this time of injury, she’d become her best friend because she exerted the least amount of strength, talking, while with her. Sure, Shane would have been better, being a telepath and all. She’d even rescued her from the shed where Lucenzo stored her. Despite these things, she was still unable to forgive her for trying to kill her. Plus, she hated telepaths. She never knew what they could glean from her mind.
“Hi.” Mica appeared at the door.
“Did you hear all that?”
“You can just whisper; I’ll hear you plainly. Yes, I heard the conversation.”
Misaki left the room. Mica sat in the chair next to her bed.
“I don’t want them here,” she whispered. “You must insist that they leave. Tell them I don’t know where Meghan is.”
“But, Starr, you do know what happened to Meghan. Don’t you think they have a right to know?”
“Know that their daughter turned into a whore? Know that she let a man beat her, give her drugs, and then kill her?” When Mica didn’t answer, she said, “No, it would just be one more thing they’d blame me for.”
“What if you went home for a few days? Spent some time with them?”
“Mica, you seem to be under the impression that they care about me. The truth is I was always treated like an inconvenient obligation. Meghan, with all her flaws, was treated like a porcelain doll; she was always rewarded for screwing up. Besides, if vampires are vamping out and killing people, en masse, the safest place to be is here with you guys.”
Misaki entered the room with a mug of chicken blood and a straw. She stepped in front of Mica, sat on the bed and held the cup of warm liquid up to her mouth.
“Freshly killed chicken’s blood?” she asked, as Misaki positioned the straw between her lips.
“I found an abandoned coop, a few miles down. They’d been living in the forest. Chanler helped me bring them back. Misty freaked when she saw me wring one of their necks, haha.”
“You?” Starr mused.
“Yeah, I had to do it all the time, back home.”
Starr often forgot that Misaki was from a place that was not only of technological advancement, but also still had its roots in farming and superstition. It was for that reason she loved Misaki, only second to Lily; in her, she found wisdom, healing, super intellect, and a basic street sense that put her above all the other kids.
“Thanks, Misaki.”
“You saved my life, so I owe you one. No need to thank me.”
As she put the straw back up to her lips, someone came and stood in the doorway.
“Chanler? Why are you back so soon? Did you find Lucenzo and Lily?”
“Not now, Starr,” he said. “I don’t want to worry you. I just wanted to check in on you. I didn’t think you’d be awake.”
“I guess that means you didn’t find them.”
He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes told her she was right. “
I need to know what’s going on,” she said, getting agitated and acciden
tally choking on a bit of the blood.
“Ahuh, ahuh,” she coughed and cried, for the pain was terrible.
Misaki lent her forward, and then told her to swallow again.
Chanler entered the room and sat behind Misaki, on the bed. He looked at her a moment; then his eyes shifted to Misaki, and back to her again.
“It’s okay,” Starr said, comprehending his glances. “You can speak in front of Misaki.”
He sighed and said, “We spoke to a few members of the Order of Negru. They claimed to know nothing, and to be honest, I believe them. Besides, they’re still in good standing. Despite our differences, I doubt Madam Balaji would have anything to do with this new vampire species. The Negru are bourgeois elitists who enjoy being special, so creating an inferior vampire race wouldn’t appeal to them, I don’t think. So then we spoke to a few members who we’ve known to preach world domination values. No one knows anything.
On my way back here, Michelle called me. She and the others ransacked Lucenzo’s house in Boston. They found a picture of Lucenzo and Amir, the Ukranian we met in Fedir. It looks like Amir was a member of the Order back when it first started in the nineteenth century, which is probably why no one remembered him. Most Order members, now, are less than a century old, including its new headmistress, Madam Balaji.”
“Are you going to track him?” whispered Starr.
“You’d think so, but we’ve gone an unconventional route. It’s one we never thought we’d ever do.”
“What?”
“We’re working with the Centers for Disease Control.”
Mica gasped. Even Misaki, who wasn’t a vampire, lowered her mug and looked at him.
“What about exposure?” asked Mica.
“We need a mass plan to exterminate all the vampires, and we need to decontaminate those places where the virus was leaked. We don’t have the resources, so we have no choice but to go to the government. Once the job is done, and order is restored, we’ll disappear without a trace. They’ll never be able to prove we were with them.”
“In this day and age of technology, how can you possibly guarantee that?” asked Misaki.
No one answered.
Starr tried to think about what working with the CDC could mean for them.
“I was hoping you’d help us. We need you.”
“You need me?” Starr asked. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t even feed myself.”
“Yeah, but that won’t be for long. You’ll be fine, soon enough.”
“How long do you think?” she asked hopefully.
“Couple of weeks, maybe; although you may not feel completely back to normal for months, and even then, you may still have strange things, anomalies, twitches; moments when your body doesn’t obey you right away. These types of injuries are devastating even for us, but you will recover.”
Starr didn’t know whether to be relieved or depressed. She couldn’t stand the thought of being in bed while the others were taking action, and she, certainly, hated the idea that she wouldn’t be as physically fit as she was before. Truth was, she liked kicking butt; the rush she got from it was the only thing that came close to being alive.
“What about the breakouts in Europe?” Mica asked.
“Well, we have to worry about it later. For now, we’re gonna send intelligence reports to the other governments. Several of the last Fleet members have gone to meet with the Ukraines and the Romanians, where the outbreaks first happened. After, they’re coming back here.”
“How is the cleanup effort gonna work?” Mica asked.
“The CDC had ordered quarantine, and was considering completely destroying cities, like Akron and NYC. Now that we’re on board, they hope to comb through the cities. This is equally dangerous and could get us all killed or infected, though, so that’s where you come in, Starr.”
She looked at him, questioningly.
Reading her facial expression, he answered, “We don’t have any remote viewing telepaths in the Fleet. If you can help us pinpoint, exactly, where the vampires are, then we can determine whether we go in and kill them by hand, or bring the Big Fire if there’s too many of them.”
“Why did you come back? Shouldn’t you be with your men?” asked Mica.
Looking Starr in the eyes, he said, “I came back to protect you all.”
The chicken blood, finished, Misaki stood up and left the room.
“I’d better go inform the others,” Mica said and followed her out.
“Michelle’s in Romania,” he said, as he moved closer up the bed, filling the spot where Misaki sat, a moment ago.
He leaned over and closed in on her face. When he pressed his warm lips to hers, she felt blood rush through her brain. The sensation was too much for her and she passed out.
The next thing she knew was someone turned on the light. It had been like this, off and on, for a while: one moment, she was awake, aware and having a conversation and the next, she was dreaming. Then she’d suddenly wake and there would be someone in her room. Sometimes, it was hard to know when she was really talking to people or not.
A muscular man sat next to her on the bed. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “You’re not dreaming,” he said.
“Michael?”
“Yes.”
“How did you know we’re here?”
“My dad told me.”
“Does he know where Lucenzo is?”
“If he does, he’s not saying. Can you speak up? I can barely hear you.”
Chanler entered the room with a cup and straw.
“It hurts her to speak,“ he said, sounding annoyed. “Lucenzo cut off her head and sewed it back on, a week and a half ago. She’s still healing.”
“Will she be alright?”
Starr heard a slight loathing in Chanler’s voice, as he said, “Eventually.” He sat on the opposite side of the bed, moved Starr upward, and adjusted the straw to her lips.
“I don’t understand; I thought beheading killed vampires.”
A sour scented pheromone, almost reminiscent of spoiled milk, filled her nostrils.
Was Chanler jealous? Starr wondered.
“If you reattach the head, immediately, death can be prevented. Lucenzo didn’t want to kill her, but only to stop her from telling us, too soon, that he was the one responsible for the attempt at a vampire apocalypse.”
He leant over and put the straw to Starr’s lips.
“Can you do that later? I want to talk to her, privately,” asked Michael.
“No, she needs her strength.” He looked at him through slit eyes. “This will keep her awake longer, and speed her healing.”
“It’s alright, Michael. You may speak in front of Chanler.”
“Well, I just wanted to say that you were right, Starr.”
“About what?” asked Starr, letting the straw drop from her lips.
Chanler pulled back the cup, sighed loudly, and looked at Michael.
Michael turned his head toward Chanler and asked, “Do you mind?”
“Yes, I do mind.”
He stood up and said, “Dude, what is your problem? You wanna have a go?”
Misaki entered the room.
“What’s going on here?” she asked, sounding far beyond her years.
“Chanler, please wait outside. Michael and I need to talk, before I pass out again. Please,” she whispered, as the pain was mounting in her neck and head again.
“I’ll be back; don’t let her pass out. She hasn’t eaten in a few days because we’ve been unable to wake her.”
They left the room.
Misaki closed the door behind them.
Michael sat back down on the bed and held her hand once more.
“I’m so glad you’re alright.”
“Michael, what is it you were going to say?”
“Just that you were right about my father; there are things he’s not telling me.”
He paused, looking uncomfortable.
“To answe
r one of your questions, from last time we spoke, I turned you. I know I did. We’ve been friends forever, and I would have never let you die, but…”
He stood up and paced the room, as he ran his hand through his hair, agitatedly. “My father has been acting peculiar. When the virus first broke out, he came to see me and make sure I was alright. There were times when he’d disappear, both physically and mentally. I knew he was communicating with someone, telepathically too, but he wouldn’t tell me who, or what was going on. Anytime I’d try to probe his thoughts, I’d see a dark tunnel. He’s definitely hiding something, but I don’t know what.
One thing he said, before he last took off, was to follow you and make sure that you were safe. I should have caught up with you weeks ago, but I had to look after my mom. Besides, let’s face it, you can take care of yourself. But then he returned and was so angry with me. He told me to get here or he would beat me, so here I am. Really, I hadn’t a clue that you’d been injured. If I had, I would have come sooner.”
Starr merely looked at him, trying to deduce what everything he’d just said could possibly mean. Unfortunately, processing thoughts was difficult, as she was prone to severe fatigue after thinking too hard.
“It’s just strange…” he said.
“I think you should leave,” Starr interrupted. “If he asks, tell him I kicked you out. Whatever he’s up to, I don’t need you leading him here. He could be working with Lucenzo, for all we know.”
“First: I’m not going anywhere until you’re up and walking around. Second: Why would my father be connected to Lucenzo?”
Starr’s head was starting to lull. The fog was getting thicker. She felt herself slipping into sleep.
Next thing she knew, Chanler was in the room again, trying to feed her. She told herself to drink, but it got harder and harder to draw the liquid through the straw.
The room got darker and darker, and darker…
Suddenly, she was awoken by Misaki.
“Come on,” she said, pulling her into a sitting position.
She set a plate of little pink, oval shaped chicken brains on her lap. The scent aroused her. She was very hungry. Her fangs protruded forward as she felt the pink slip and slide between her thumb and fingers.
Amazingly enough, her hands worked much better than when she was awake, last.
“How long have I been asleep, this time?”
“Three days,” she said.
“I feel like some of my energy has returned.” She picked up a soft, cold pink brain, and relished its tongue-like feel in her mouth.
“Today, I’m gonna take you for a walk. You have to keep moving, so that your body will heal right.”
All of a sudden, a walk sounded great. She wanted to see and feel the sunlight.
She was still fairly slow. Her legs were dead weight.
Dents formed in the wood bannister, which she gripped hart to keep her standing. Progress wasn’t quick enough for her, but it was happening, and for the first time, she felt like smiling -- until she walked into the kitchen, where her mother cleaned morning dishes. Her father sat at the table, reading an old magazine.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” she asked viciously.
“We’re not leaving until you’re well enough to come home.”
“Mom, even when I’m fully recovered, I’m not leaving with you. You can’t make me. Things have changed, and you need to accept that and move on.”
“You’re still my daughter.”
“Yes, but not that you ever cared. I’d been gone a year, and never once did you come to find me.”
“I didn’t know about GPS, or that I could track you down, until I called the phone company…”
“Yeah, you didn’t learn about GPS until you called about Meghan, right? Not once, did you ever bother to check up on me, huh?”
Her mother didn’t answer.
“Here’s what happened to Meghan: she was murdered by her scum, pimping boyfriend. He also stabbed me in the back, and I would be dead, too, if it weren’t for Michael. Remember Michael?”
Mom said nothing.
“I always knew she was your favorite, but I never realized how little you cared for me until she was gone. Now, you want me to come home and be your daughter, again? I don’t think so. Don’t think you can force me, either, because like snapping twigs, I can still break your limbs, even injured like I am.”
Her mother’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
Ignoring her, Starr continued past, through the backdoor. Misaki followed.
Outside, the air was fragrant. She heavily breathed in the moist pollen rich air. Not that her kind actually breathed anymore, but the taste of air was, sometimes, as refreshing as a cup of blood.
“Oh, wow,” she said. “Spring is coming, and it’s gonna be a lovely one, here on Lake George.”
“Do you think you can walk to the doc on your own?” asked Misaki.
“Yes,” she said.
Although it took her nearly thirty minutes to step down the six steps, and walk the wood slatted path, she managed to make it all the way to the end of the dock without falling.
Shane got up from her spot on the bench, allowing Starr to sit next to Becky and Kay.
Seeing the way the sun’s rays bounced across the water entranced Starr. For the first time, since being at the cabin, she truly looked at her surroundings: the trees, tall and abundant, blanketed the bank. Occasionally, ripples of water moved across the surface when birds plunged into the water, catching fish and devouring them.
Suddenly, she felt a strange presence, like someone was watching them. Gently, she turned her head toward the house, and for a moment, could have sworn she saw white and red among the trees.
Exhausted from her walk down to the dock, she couldn’t think much of it. She turned her head back in time to catch Misty leap a cannon ball into the water.
Starr smiled when water splashed her hands and feet, because she could feel it! She was getting better!
Almost Healed
