Blood Run – The Complete Trilogy – First Promise, Two Riders, Last Chance

by Dougherty, Christine

  He’d changed.

  “Everyone seems comfortable,” Miller said, boosting herself up to sit next to Promise on a checkout stand. They were in an old Five and Dime, and although it was still light out, Miller had made sure everyone was in and prepared for the night. All the soldiers had worked to ensure that the store was clear of vampires and were now boarding up the front plate-glass windows.

  Peter had led the horses into the office portion of the old building, saying that they would prefer the enclosed space, but Promise had sensed that at least part of his motivation was in wanting to separate himself from the other members of the group.

  Miller followed her gaze. “How is he?” she asked.

  “He’s okay, I mean, he doesn’t seem upset or anything,” Promise said. “But there is something different about him.”

  “He’s quiet, I noticed that,” Miller said. “But maybe he’s just tired. It’s a lot longer ride on a horse than in a Humvee.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, too,” Promise said. “About how quickly he caught up to us.”

  Miller looked startled, and then she frowned. “Well, we did have that day at Greenville. That could have given him time to catch up,” she said, but her frown deepened as doubt crept into her voice. “I’ll ask him if–”

  “Can I talk to him alone first?” Promise said. “Would you mind?”

  Miller shook her head. “Nope. Knock yourself out,” she said and eased herself down from her spot on the checker stand. She crossed her arms over her chest and surveyed the small group of people as they made space for themselves along the aisles and walls as the light disappeared behind the plywood boards the soldiers were putting in place. Most of the shelves had been cleared at some point in the past, but oddities still sat here and there like forlorn castoffs. Miller’s eyes went back to Promise. “Just let me know if he tells you anything that might, you know, jeopardize anyone.”

  Promise nodded and waited until Miller had wandered away and was talking to a few of the lab people, then she went to the office.

  “He looks good,” she said, and Peter turned to smile at her. Then he turned back to Ash. “Snow, too,” she said and patted the big white horse. “Tired, though, aren’t you, girl?”

  Snow raised her head in acknowledgment and snorted lightly. Then her head dropped again, and Promise laughed. “I think sleeping is one of Snow’s favorite things.”

  A ghost of a smile came and went on Peter’s face.

  “Peter,” Promise said. “Are you all right?”

  His hand slowed at its work, and then he turned, dropping the rag to a desk that had been pushed against the wall. His eyes were lowered. Promise was reminded of a time when Chance had been six and a bully at school was taking parts of his lunch every day. When Promise had asked him why he was so quiet, so sad, he’d had the same look that Peter had now: reluctance to tell, shame, embarrassed anger.

  Peter mumbled something that she didn’t quite catch, but fear began to spread like hot liquid through her brain.

  She closed the distance between them. “I didn’t hear you. Tell me again,” she said.

  He raised his head, and the fire glowed deep in his eyes, sparking uncertainly. “It’s worse,” he said. “Ever since the lab, it’s gotten…I’ve gotten…more like them. More like a vampire. I caught up to you because I rode through the night. From just before sunset until just after dawn, I rode and nothing touched me, nothing even tried. I can feel it pulsing through me, making me…making me want to run with the moon, making me want to…even as I was helping Evans, I wanted to…to…”

  “No, don’t say it,” Promise said, her voice harsh with fear. “That’s not who you are. You’re not a monster. You were just…” she shook her head and trailed off, thinking. Then she began again, and her voice was more sure. “Listen I think that what happened in the lab, the blood, the panic, Billet being changed, and you having to…to fight him…to…” she trailed off again and licked her lips. “It made you feel worse, like if you put a blanket on a person with a fever, they’ll feel worse, but you haven’t really changed. It’s temporary; I know it is. You fought it before, and you can fight it again!”

  He gripped her arms and looked into her eyes. The fire in his eyes flared, seemingly in tandem with his agony, and his face was drawn in pale lines of horror. “Even now,” he said, and his voice broke. “Even now, as I look at you, I want…I want to…” his voice had dwindled down to a whisper, and his mouth opened and closed with no sound. His eyes still did not leave hers. When his voice came again, it was a hissing, agonized whisper. “I want to…to bite you. I can…smell…the blood in your veins, and I can hear it…I can hear it as it passes through your heart, and its heat…oh, God the heat and salt of it…I can–”

  “Peter, stop!” Promise cried and stepped back, breaking his hold on her. She’d been staring at him, mesmerized, almost hypnotized. Now she felt the cool relief on the backs of her arms where his fingers had been digging in. She hadn’t realized just how hard he was gripping her until he let her go. She was going to have bruises. “You went through this before, and you have to do it again. That’s all! You have to fight it, Peter,” she said and gulped down a sob. Her breath hitched wildly. “You have to…to…”

  “What’s going on?” Evans stood in the doorway to the office. His gaze went from Peter, standing with his hands fisted and eyes burning, to Promise who’d put her hands over her face. “Promise, step out,” he said.

  Peter’s head snapped toward him, his features contracting in anger.

  “Promise, step out. Peter and I need to talk,” Evans said, and his voice hadn’t changed–he maintained a calm, neutral tone–but his body was tense, ready.

  “Peter?” Promise said, and he turned to face her. The rage drained out of him all at once. His shoulders and hands dropped, and the fire left his eyes completely. His face was full of tired anguish.

  “Go on,” he told her. “It’s okay.”

  She turned and stumbled past Evans, and Evans pulled the office door closed behind her. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts, then he turned to face Peter. “Are you a vampire, Peter? More than you were before?”

  Peter’s head dropped, and he sank into a chair. He bent over, his head in his hands. “I don’t know. But I think so, yeah.” He looked up, and his eyes were bloodshot.

  Evan hesitated again, then drew up a chair next to Peter’s, and Peter looked at him in surprise. “What happened back there at the base?” Evans said. “How did you get out of it?”

  Peter dropped his head again. “I almost didn’t. The night…the night that it all went wrong…I was in the lab when you came in and…” he glanced at Evans, and his eyes were strange, intense and distracted. “I saw you save Promise. I was glad because I couldn’t go to her, couldn’t let her see me. There was so much blood. On the floor and the walls and on the tables from what Billet had done to those people. He just…he tore them apart. And the more he did that…even as he did it…I felt something trying to…to come up. In myself. Something savage and…” he broke off and ran a hand over his face. “And I liked it. That was the part that…that still bothers me. I liked the blood and the savagery. It seemed so exciting and natural, almost. As though this was the way the world was supposed to be, the biting and killing,” Peter said and then hesitated.

  He seemed to be censoring himself, and Evans shifted uneasily. “I stayed in the lab until it got quiet. I can…I can hear very well now,” he smiled at Evans briefly and then continued. “Once it was quiet, and I felt calmer then I went to find everyone. But I didn’t realize how long I’d been in the lab. Something must have been wrong with me. My mind wasn’t working right, time didn’t seem right. The building was deserted. I saw you…saw Promise…at the last second, though. I’d come outside, but the sun was…man, it was making me sick. I ran to the woods and watched as everyone left. Promise, she looked right at me. I thought she saw me, but maybe she didn’t. It was better anyway because alre
ady I was beginning to think that I might not be as…as normal…as I was before. It seemed I’d sunk into being a vampire. Almost a full one. I didn’t want to jeopardize her.”

  Peter sighed, and his face filled with a deep sadness. Then he shook his head as if to clear his mind. “The horses…someone must have turned them out. They were outside, and they found me. Snow did, you know, and Ash was with her. I was feeling pretty sick by then, couldn’t even get up, but I managed to get myself onto Snow’s back, and we went back into the base. I rested all that day, and by late afternoon, I felt good. I felt really good. Physically, I mean. Mentally, I was still a mess,” he said and grinned sadly at Evans. “Part of me was telling me to ride in another direction. That I shouldn’t jeopardize Promise and the cure and you guys. But in the end, I had to follow her. That part was stronger, the wanting to be with her part.”

  Evans shrugged. “You did the right thing, then,” he said.

  “Did I? I’m not sure. I’m not myself anymore.”

  “You were worse before though, right? Right after you’d been bit? You fought it off then.”

  Peter nodded. “I did but…I don’t know. It was different. I had more strength or something.”

  “Man, you’re plenty damn strong. My ankles are gonna be bruised until the New Year. I think you might have crushed my bones a little, too, dragging me out of that Humvee,” Evans said.

  “I don’t mean like that, I mean mentally strong. Mentally able to will it back,” Peter said.

  Evans shrugged. “You’re probably just tired. It couldn’t have been easy catching up to us.”

  “I rode through the nights. That’s what I was telling Promise,” Peter said, and his voice held that cast of odd shame. “I got a lot more road time than you guys did.”

  “Well, shit,” Evans said and barked out a harsh laugh. “That’s probably half your problem right there.” He laughed again, and Peter scowled in confusion.

  “I don’t getcha,” Peter said.

  “It’s like crack to a crack addict. Man, the more you’re out at night and acting like one of them, the more you’re going to be one of them. It’s like you…I dunno…identified with them too strongly for too long a time. The shit that went down at the base didn’t help either, I’m sure.” Evans’ face darkened, and he looked at his own clasped hands. “What happened to Billet, him being changed and all…that was messed up. It was hard to–hard to see,” he sighed and looked up. “But you had to do what you did. You did kill him, right?”

  Peter’s eyes filled with sorrow. He nodded. “Yeah. He would have killed Promise and that–I couldn’t take it. But during the fight, I kept getting stronger and stronger. At first, he was kind of tossing me around, but the angrier I got, the more worked up I got…in the end, it wasn’t much of a contest. But it was–the way I went about it was–” A tremor ran through Peter’s body and closed his mouth with a snap.

  “Overboard?” Evans said.

  “Overboard?” Peter echoed, confused.

  “Yeah. Did you go overboard? Did you…you know…overkill him?” Evans knew what fear, rage, and strain could do to a mind. He’d been a soldier a long time, and his own brushes with overkilling had left a set of deep, mental scars to remind him. Every day they reminded him.

  Peter was nodding slowly, realization dawning across his features. “Yeah, I see what you mean, now. Yeah, it was…it was bad and–”

  Evans put a hand up, cutting him off. “I don’t want to know. I’m not a therapist, man, and I’ve got my own shit to deal with. And Billet was my friend. You did what you had to do, I get that, but I don’t want to hear about it, you got me?”

  “Yeah. I got it,” Peter said and lowered his head again. “So, what now?”

  “Shit, I don’t know. Sleep tonight; take a pill if you can find something out on those shelves. Ignore that part of you. Get some sun. Just keep pushing it down until it stays down. But I’ll tell you one more thing,” Evans turned and gazed at Peter from cold, stony eyes. “You sleep separate from her until you get your shit together. You can go back to riding together during the day–if she wants to, which I think she will–but you stay far, far away from her at night. Remember how you felt about Billet going after her?”

  Peter nodded.

  “Well, that’s how I feel, too…about you.” Evans extended a finger and poked Peter in the chest. “And I will overkill you. Even though you’re a vampire, trust me, I’ll find a way. Because nothing can happen to her.”

  A smile spread across Peter’s features, and he looked more like himself than he had since he’d been back. “I agree with you on that. And I’m glad you’re looking out for her,” he said and then tilted his head, considering Evans. “You love her?” he asked.

  “Not like you might think,” Evans said, standing, ending the conversation. “She reminds me of someone, that’s all.” Promise reminded him of his little sister who’d died in very bad circumstances. But he didn’t have to share that with Peter, even if the guy had saved his life. As far as Evans was concerned, there was entirely too much sharing going on in the world already. “There’s a row of pharma in the back room; I saw it when we were sweeping the place. Might be something back there you can take to knock yourself out,” he said and opened the door. He looked back at Peter, and his eyes had gone cold again, speculative. “I don’t trust you yet, Peter.”

  “Even though I saved your life?”

  Evans nodded as though that were answer enough.

  Promise leaned in the saddle and ran her hand along Ash’s shoulder. Her fingers warmed themselves under his mane, and then she let her hand trail upward and cup one of his big, stiff, soft ears. He rumbled deep in his chest, almost a purr but bassier, more felt than heard. Promise smiled and hugged him, leaning over his neck. They’d been through so much together. She was so glad to have him back. She stood in the stirrups and blew into his ear, and he pawed the ground and threw his head up and down, jingling the reins. She laughed and for a few moments, it was just her and Ash, and nothing had ever happened before this time and nothing would come after. It was just…this.

  “They’re moving,” Peter said.

  She looked up, and the last Humvee in the line was just starting to roll. She glanced at Peter, feeling almost shy. It was like the beginning of their trip when she’d realized all at once how unorthodox it was to be doing something so impulsive with someone she barely knew. She still didn’t know him very well, but there was more to it than that. She felt…connected to him…bonded…in a way that she understood through feelings that would never be explained by words. It was a language all its own.

  “You feel better today,” she said, and he nodded. She turned Ash and kicked him into a fast walk. Snow followed suit.

  “I slept. I think that helped a lot. It was Evans’ idea, actually,” Peter said and grinned at her. “If you can believe it.”

  “I can believe it. There’s more to him than we knew,” she said. “For such an angry person, he’s really…not nice, that wouldn’t be the right word…”

  “Loyal. Steadfast. True,” Peter said.

  She nodded. “Yeah, those things,” she said.

  He turned his face up to the strong morning sun.

  “Doesn’t that hurt?” she asked. She was used to him covering up in the sun, keeping his exposure to a minimum. He didn’t burn like the vampires did, but he’d get sick if he got too much.

  “It doesn’t hurt so much as itch. Like my skin is crawling. But it helps my mind; I can feel it minimizing the disease…like when you take aspirin for a sore throat,” he opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Evans was right about that, too.”

  They were quiet for a while as the convoy growled along in front of them. The gentle back and forth, back and forth generated by Ash’s gait was soothing, and having Snow next to her was soothing, and having Peter back. Especially since he was so much better this morning. Last night, when Evans had told her that Peter would sleep with the horses, but she was to stay b
y his–Evans’–side, she’d been frightened. What did it mean? Would she never have Peter back the way he was? Was he dangerous?

  But he seemed almost back to himself today.

  “I can’t believe we’ll be in Wereburg by this afternoon,” Promise said. The words alone were enough to send a thrill through her, and she felt for a second light and buoyant. Then her mind went naturally to Chance, and her good feelings were dampened by fear, and her eyes became shadowed with doubt.

  “Promise?” Peter said, sensing the shift in her mood. “What is it?”

  “I had a dream where I was responsible for everyone dying because of Chance,” she said, spitting it all out at once like something bitter, maybe even poisonous. “I’m afraid that we’ll ride into Wereburg, and it will be like those other deserted outposts–everyone will be dead or changed. I’m afraid that it will be my fault.”

  She looked away from him and fixed her eyes on the Humvee they rode behind. It was both better and worse, now that she had said it. Better because it was always better to air out the bad feelings–her mom had taught her that–but worse, too, because talking about it too much seemed akin to making it real.

  “Well, it wouldn’t be just your fault,” Peter said, “if something happened to Wereburg.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Promise said, the words clipped, almost angry. Not looking for an answer, merely stating the fact of her belief.

  “It would be mine, too. And Mark’s and Lea’s,” he said. “We all participated.”

  “But it was my idea,” she said. “Chance is my brother.”

  “Promise, you didn’t twist anyone’s arm. We each made the decision to help based on our own feelings, not because we felt bad for you. Well,” he chuckled, startling her. “Let me amend that: I was and am definitely sympathetic, there’s no question about that. I can certainly empathize. But I’m also doing it for myself and also, at least in a small way, for the greater good. If we could reclaim our…our loved ones…how amazing would that be? If there are people who can be turned back, cured…” He savored the word ‘cured,’ lingering over it, his tone almost reverential. “The implications are astounding.”