Destiny walked to where Lea counted.
“Hi, Lea. Mr. West sent me to help out.” She nodded to Mark when he looked up from sorting. “Hey, Mark.”
“Hi, Destiny,” Mark said. “Your parents?”
“No, they…they’re, you know. They…died.” Destiny shrugged and fought back the tears. It just didn’t seem possible, standing here in the well-known school cafeteria, like it could have been any other day. But on this day, her parents were dead, and everything had changed. The whole world was crumbling; she’d finally gotten the excitement she craved. Dark, heavy guilt pressed down across her shoulders and back.
Mark nodded, his face grim, and Lea raised a tentative hand to Destiny, her fingers fluttering like a timid bird. “Me…mine too. I mean…my parents, my…dad…too…died,” Lea said, stuttering, and she took a tripping step closer to Destiny, her arms widening. She was a thin, almost translucent blonde, and tears welled in her enormous blue eyes.
Destiny embraced Lea, and her own tears began to flow with almost painful reluctance. She didn’t want to keep crying. Her eyes already felt like itchy, lightly sanded marbles.
After a minute, the girls let each other go, smiling sadly. Mark stood awkwardly to one side, watching them.
Destiny broke the silence. “What are you guys doing? Can I help?”
“We’re counting out food boxes,” Lea said and turned back to the table where she’d been working. Her voice had a tentative, wavery quality that Destiny knew wasn’t due to recent trauma…it was just Lea’s voice. “We have to know what we have in case they want to ration. ‘Officer’ Morris is in charge.” She cut her eyes to the other side of the cafeteria with a hint of a smile on her pale lips. Destiny followed her gaze.
Deidre Morris, former president of the class of ’82, stood backlit by the enormous caf windows. She had a homemade-looking yellow sash tied over her shoulder. She held a clipboard. She was staring at Destiny with pursed-lip impatience.
“Destiny! Destiny Riser! Would you come here, please, and let them count?”
“Uh oh…” Mark said under his breath and nudged Destiny’s shoulder as he moved past her toward the kitchen to get another tray of the cupcakes. “Now you did it.”
Lea giggled. It was such a mild and breathless giggle that if Destiny did not know her, she would have thought Lea had merely sighed.
Destiny gave Deidre a perfunctory wave and then walked from the caf. She didn’t feel like being bossed around by Deidre right now, she wanted to get back to the gym. Some instinct was warning her not to leave Chance for too long. He was very frail right now, and he needed her. And he was exhausted. Neither one of them had gotten any real sleep the night before.
She turned the corner, and looking across the room, she saw Chance sound asleep on the cot. Mr. West sat next to him in a folding chair. His arms were resting on his chest, and his head dropped forward and then snapped back up. After a moment, it began to droop again. He was keeping a sleepy watch over Chance.
Destiny walked up on tiptoe, amazed that this little area could feel so isolated from the rest of the milling, murmuring gym. What caused that? she wondered and then toed off her shoes. She stretched out on her cot, rolling onto her side so she could watch Chance as he breathed. She wished she had a blanket. Her mind conjured a picture of her mom, back when Destiny was just a little girl, and mom had just washed Blankie, baby Destiny’s favorite companion, and was bringing him out of the dryer, fluffy and yellow and dear…
She felt a gentle weight on her shoulder, a breath of wind on her cheek, and opened her eyes in time to see Mr. West turning away. He’d floated a thin blanket down over her. She looked at Chance again. His thin eyelids, the bruised-looking area beneath. His skin so pale. She would have to get him something to eat soon. She would do it in a minute.
She slept.
In her dream, Blankie hung on the line in the backyard, drying to a fluff in the summer heat. She reached one tiny hand up, pulling Blankie to her face, and popped her thumb in her mouth. She rubbed Blankie over and over on her cheek. She leaned into Blankie’s good, soft heat and closed her little girl eyes, watching the yellow patterns forming on the inside of her eyelids.
She’d never been that content again.
After two more days and nights, the gym was filled to capacity, and people were bedding down in the hallways, the classrooms, and the cafeteria. Mr. West’s band of children had climbed to a wholly unmanageable thirty-seven, but he turned none away.
Anxiety was causing arguments to spring up every half-hour or so. People were tense, and it made them do stupid things. Worst of all, it made them distracted and careless and the high school had many doors.
The vampires could not get past a lock, and in some cases, they couldn’t even get past a doorknob, depending on how much of their brains the disease had burned away, but an open door held no challenge for them. The old fables about needing to be invited in were like the garlic and crosses–simply not true.
On Destiny’s third night in the high school, someone had left one of the wide, back doors propped open. Distracted by the latest conflicts, exhausted by too much emotion and too little to do, the open door had been forgotten as everyone bedded down that night.
Three vampires slipped in, having come across the door purely by chance. They followed their changed and sensitive noses, drawn by the collective heat of the people who slept nearby. They could smell the copious amounts of blood, could feel the almost tidal pull of hearts beating that delicious elixir through delightfully thin veins. They rampaged.
Destiny came awake to a nightmare of screams in the murky gymnasium. She reached instinctively for Chance, her eyes adjusting to the low emergency lights that shone when the main lights cut out. People ran, screaming, tumbling over cots and each other as terror whipped through the survivors like a strong wind. Destiny pulled Chance to her and slid with him to the wall. She wanted her back against the solid concrete as people stampeded around them like panicked animals.
“Destiny! Over here!” A voice came through the gloom, a whispered yell. It was Mark, and he was about twenty-five feet away, leaning out the door to the boys’ locker room. He waved frantically in a ‘come on’ gesture. “Hurry up!”
Destiny scrambled up, pulling Chance with her. He was still half-asleep. “Destiny? What happened? Where’s the lights? Where’s Mommy?” His voice peeped like a peevish bird, and he rubbed his eyes with balled fists. Destiny saw him suddenly at two, at three, and then four, at six, at seven…at all the ages she’d cared for him and loved him. Everything that was dear about him. Everything in him that was all she had left. She pulled him toward the locker room.
“Come on, Chance,” she said. “We’re going somewhere safer.”
His little hand was hot in hers, and he offered no resistance, allowing himself to be pulled along. A form swooped past in the dark, and Destiny ducked instinctively, pulling Chance down with her, pushing him against the wall. She froze, her breath coming in panicky gasps. She didn’t know what to do. The situation was too foreign, too chaotic…how could she protect Chance in this bedlam?
Mr. West appeared with a child in his arms, and he threw Destiny a frantic look as he ran past. “Come on, Destiny. Get in the locker room!” He stopped at the locker room door, and Mark took the child from his arms. He threw one frantic glance back the way he’d come and waved Destiny toward him, propping the door open with his body, half in and half out. The screaming had reached a delirious level, and now among the screams came the hissing of the vampires as they fought each other over fresh kills.
Destiny got back to her feet, her knees shaking, her hand never loosening on her brother’s. She slid along the wall toward Mr. West. She kept her eyes pinned to him as more figures loomed out of the darkness to scream and wail, then fade back into the gloom. Her foot slid, and she glanced down instinctively to see a puddle of blood and something more, flesh or gobbets of brain, maybe, and she gasped. She tore her eyes away and focused again on
Mr. West. Ten more feet–ten terrifying feet–and she’d be there. Chance would be safe.
She felt a tug on her arm and looked back; Chance had fainted. A white, white hand had come out of the darkness to wrap around his ankle, tugging roughly, and Destiny screamed in outrage. She stomped down on the hand, grabbed Chance under the armpits and spun, feeling something tear in her side, some muscle giving way under the strain. With adrenalin-fueled strength, she pushed Chance’s quiescent body into Mr. West, tumbling them both back into the locker room. She fell in behind them, pulling the door closed, and Mark was there to jam a mop handle through the latch mechanism, effectively locking the door.
She bent over her own knees, head down, panting, her breath tearing in and out of her lungs in shrieking gasps. Something burned and pulled in her side with each breath. A hand descended on her shoulder, and she jumped back, startled.
“It’s okay; it’s just me.”
She looked at Mark and nodded, trying to catch her breath. Her heart beat as though she’d just run a sprint. She swallowed and put her hand to her side where the pain was the worst.
“Are you okay?” Mark asked, stepping close to put a hand on her arm.
She nodded again. “I’m okay. Just a stitch.”
The emergency lights were a little brighter in here, and she could see the rows of lockers, which fed back to the communal shower area. To the side was the coaching staff office.
Chance was lying prone on the tile floor at the base of the first row of lockers. Mr. West kneeled over him.
“Chance!” Destiny said and crossed to her brother. She knelt, too, and took Chance’s hand in hers. Now his hand was cold–probably from the tiles, the cold tiles, her mind equivocated. “Chance? Wake up!” She turned to Mr. West. “Is he okay? He…he fainted. Out there, he fainted, and…”
Mr. West looked at her, and his eyes were both pitying and hard. She couldn’t understand the look he was giving her. She shook her head. “What’s wrong? What’s–”
“He’s been bit, Destiny,” Mr. West said, and his tone matched his eyes–sympathetic but at the same time, inexorable. “Chance was bit.”
“No! No, he just…he fainted! He was too scared, and…he fainted! That’s all!” She turned to Chance and patted his cheeks. Her hands and eyes registered the paleness and coolness of his skin, but she pushed the knowledge aside. “Chance! You can wake up now! It’s okay, Chance, we’re safe…Chance?”
She looked up, her eyes staring and shocked, her mouth open. Behind Mr. West, Mark cracked a broom handle over his knee. It snapped, leaving a jagged, splintered end in each of his hands. He tossed aside the portion that still held the broom head. He looked up, and his eyes met Destiny’s.
“What are you doing?” she said, her voice a shaky whisper. “Mark? What are you doing?”
Mr. West put a hand on her chin, directing her gaze to his. “You don’t want him to be one of them, do you, Destiny?”
She shook her head, and now tears had filled her eyes. “No…he’s not…he’s not a vampire. He’s just…he fainted!” Her voice cycled up as though trying to match the volume of screams coming still from the gym. “You can’t…you can’t hurt him! He’s just a little boy!”
Mark stepped forward, and Mr. West put his arm around Destiny’s trembling shoulders, pulling her up. “Come over here, Destiny. Don’t watch.” He tried to lead her away.
In shock, she continued to stare at Mr. West, her mouth working without sound. She stepped forward and stumbled, her ankle rolling. She looked down. She had stepped on Chance’s leg. On his ankle was a torn-looking place, the edges ragged and bloody. A bite. It was true, then. Her beloved little brother would soon open his eyes as a vampire.
Mr. West led her down one length of lockers, and then Lea was there, too, to grasp her hand. Destiny stared at them in uncomprehending shock.
Behind them, Mark yelled in surprise, then again in fear as a vampiric screech tore through the locker room, followed by a thud and a dull crack.
They turned as one to look.
Mark had tumbled backward over one of the long wooden benches bolted to the floor. His legs were across the bench, and there was blood spreading from where his head had been split on the hard tiles. The hastily made stake rolled from his loosening hand. Chance perched above him, squatting on the bench like a gargoyle.
Chance’s eyes glowed with red hunger, and he stared, entranced, at the blood forming a black halo, an anti-halo, around Mark’s head. He opened his mouth wide…wider than a human mouth should open, and Promise saw his incisors had already grown to white points. He screamed again, the buzzsaw hiss endemic to vampires.
Promise tore herself from Mr. West’s grasp. “Chance! No! Don’t hurt him!”
His murky, fire-filled eyes shifted to her as she approached, and she stopped short, five feet from her baby brother. He hissed again, and she could taste and smell the hot miasma of his breath, and she nearly gagged at the rotten deadness of it. She began to cry, and she knelt over Mark, putting her body in front of his, and held her hands to Chance in supplication.
“Don’t hurt him, Chance. Don’t hurt him,” she said, choking on her words. “I love you. Please, I love you, baby brother.”
The vampire boy hissed and gibbered, his face mere inches from hers. He snapped at her twice, three times, and she closed her eyes, trembling. “Please, Chance, I can fix this. I can save you, I promise…”
Another raft of his fetid breath descended on her as he spoke: “Promisssss…?” His voice was a struggle, human and vampire fighting for control.
Destiny opened her eyes. “Yes…I promise. I can save you…please…I love you.”
The fire seemed to die out of his eyes, and for a moment, Destiny saw the real Chance, her baby brother, and he looked utterly, utterly lost. She reached to put a tentative hand on his face, and the fire in his eyes jumped to furious and sudden life. He screamed, and she could almost feel her eardrums bending under the raging force of it. She screamed in reaction, put her hands over her ears, and huddled over Mark.
She heard a crash, both glassy and metallic and looked up to see that Chance had gone through the wire-reinforced glass in the door to the coach’s office…and from there through the window to the blackness outside.
She jumped up and ran to the door, screaming his name, and Mr. West grabbed her from behind, preventing her from following. Two boys ran to the door with plywood to cover the hole, and Destiny collapsed into sobs.
Distantly, she heard her brother screaming, and to her, it sounded like the word ‘promise’ drifting eerily through the new night.
Chapter 3
Promise put a hand on Ash’s warm flank, drawing comfort. She had managed to staunch her tears, telling herself that she’d cried enough for today. Future tears were almost inevitable, but for now, she’d had enough sorrow.
Mark and Lea came through the classroom doorway. Mark’s features were pulled down. Lea flitted and tripped along beside him, smiling and light as a moth.
“We haven’t finished our conversation yet,” Mark said, referring to when they’d found Promise in the field this afternoon. Right after she’d been chased. “We’d have gone into the woods with you! You didn’t have to go alone.”
Promise looked to him, her head to the side, considering. Her face, oval as an egg, was smoothed over and untroubled. “How did you guys get back here before me? And where is Lady?” she asked. Her black hair, again pulled back in a simple ponytail, exposed the calm expanse of her forehead and her large, dark eyes.
Lea smiled at Promise, squinching up her nose. “We had our bikes stashed at the safe house, and Lady is bunking with the little kids tonight. I promised them they could have her overnight,” she said, referring to her dog, a small tan terrier, who was an outpost favorite. “Since we’re out first thing again tomorrow, I thought tonight would be a good one for their sleepover, and they can watch her for me tomorrow.” Then she turned back to the door to run the locks and bolts home.<
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“What the hell, Promise?” Mark said; his voice threaded with impatience. “Don’t you realize how dangerous it is to go in the woods? No one goes there alone, ever, not even during the day. No one.” He splayed his hands out, palms down as if that gesture would drive home his point. His eyes were slate with anger and frustration.
Promise surveyed him and then bent to retrieve the rag she’d used to clean the mud from Ash’s legs. “You’re not the boss of me, Mark,” she said, throwing the rag into the corner and giving Ash a final pat. “Today was a free day, and I just decided on the spur of the moment to go look for him.” It wasn’t entirely true, but Mark didn’t need to know everything…much as he acted like he did. “It’s not up to you what I do with my free time, and I don’t need you treating me like one of your kids. And now look…you’re stuck in here with us for the night, and it’s your own fault,” she said and gestured to where Lea had everything locked up tight. Normally Mark stayed in a classroom with a handful of the tween boys, but curfew was curfew; you stayed where you were when the sun went down.
Promise turned her attention away from Mark to Lea. “Lea, cool sneakers…where did you get them?”
Lea looked down at her puffy high-tops and turned first one foot and then the other so the Coleman hit the glittery details to their best effect. “You like them? You really do?” Lea gave Promise an earnest smile. “Deidre said the glitter is too much, but I thought…” She shrugged, trailing off.
“No, they’re really cool. The doubled socks are a nice touch, too. God, you’re so fashionable. Deidre could take a few lessons from you. Hey, let’s go tomorrow to…”
Promise and Lea dropped down onto a cot, conferring and giggling. Promise was shaken from the events of the day and wanted nothing more than to forget them…for now.
Mark, who was nineteen but acted older, stared after them, fuming, until Promise shot him a smile over her shoulder. He sighed and went to join them. The light of the Coleman was companionable, and the three friends talked about many things, but avoided conversation about vampires and safe houses and long gone family, needing a respite from the horror.
Blood Run – The Complete Trilogy – First Promise, Two Riders, Last Chance Page 3
