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Heven & Hell Anthology (Heven and Hell)

Page 5

by Cambria Hebert


  Adrenaline was surging through my body, and my heart felt like it might explode from exertion. Sweat dripped from my hairline and onto my shirt and all the muscles in my body were quivering.

  Is this how I would die?

  Would I feel the impact, the crush of my bones, the heat of the metal? Would the pain be so inescapable that I pass out immediately or would I just die instantly?

  The whistle on the train blew; the high-pitched sound pierced the night sky and my ears began to ring. Move, get off, run! I tried to order my body, to warn it of the danger, but to no avail. I couldn’t move.

  Break, the voice whispered.

  Yes! I answered. I am going to break! Help me! With one last futile effort, I looked back at the train, so close now I could make out the gears moving behind the steel. I could smell the breaks trying to slow and see the conductor way up in the driver’s seat as he waved and screamed for me to get out of the way.

  I started to cry. To sob, really. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want any of this. My vision began to dim, and I knew that I was going to pass out. I knew these were my last thoughts, my last moments alive.

  Submit. Let go of the control, the voice whispered.

  I didn’t understand. Was I supposed to stop fighting? Was I supposed to just accept my death? Accept being demolished like this in the middle of nowhere? Would anyone even notice or care that I was gone?

  Steam from the train’s chimney flooded the air around me and I felt like I was choking on smoke, being suffocated. I began to cough and wheeze.

  Give in.

  Yes, I thought. I give in. I submit.

  Just like that, my body was flung to the side. The hot metal of the train actually brushed against my shoe as I was thrown out of the way. So close. So incredibly close. The noise it made as it rumbled by was overwhelming and I thought for sure my heart would never recover. I pushed my face into the hard, cold dirt on the ground and covered my ears with my hands. I let out a scream, a tortured wail, that was drowned out by the rushing train.

  I was alive. I wasn’t dead.

  I don’t know how long I lay there, catching my breath, feeling my heart pound, but eventually, I couldn’t hear the train anymore. Even still, I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t move from this safe spot.

  After a while, my brain began to work again; I could form coherent thought. And the thoughts that came rushing at me were confusing. Was I finally able to move, to jump from harm’s way because I gave in—I submitted? How can I submit to myself? I couldn’t.

  Unless the hellhound in me thought that it was going to take over.

  That would not happen. My father’s words came rushing back to me. I expect you to be strong enough to handle yourself, to know who you really are.

  But what if I wasn’t strong enough?

  The thought left me drained. I was exhausted and I didn’t want to think at all. Thankfully, I fell asleep.

  When I woke up, I was in Portland. I had no idea how I got here and I didn’t really want to know. I was still a little shaken up from the incident so I decided just to explore the city for a while. It turned out that Portland was a good place to blend in. No one seemed to notice a fourteen-year-old wandering alone, living on the street. I found this park; it had a fountain in the center and it called to me. I couldn’t understand why I felt so drawn to it, but I went there anyway and sat on a nearby bench just watching the water fall. Someone approached me from behind and I pulled my backpack into my lap. The streets were tough and people wouldn’t think twice about stealing from you. I knew because I stole from people all the time. I waited for the footsteps to move around me, to lead away.

  They stopped behind me and I felt the presence, just standing there, stalking and staring.

  I ignored the person, practically inviting them to try something. I clenched my fist, ready to strike out at the figure behind me when my attention was caught by another person on the other side of the park. This one seemed to be focused on me as well, changing his path to put me directly in it. He was wearing a big jacket, with the hood pulled up. Then more people seemed to swarm out of the shadows until I was surrounded by five people.

  It wasn’t the first time I had fought on the street. I never lost.

  But it was never five against one before.

  You can take them. Never back down.

  I burst off the bench, tossing my bag into the air, distracting them, kicking out my leg and taking out the footing of the two people closest to me. They fell in a tangle of limbs and that was it for my distraction. My bag fell and one of the men caught it. Rage filled me. That was my bag—everything I owned—and they were not taking it from me.

  With a roar, I launched myself at the one holding my bag and hit him from the side, knocking him off balance. We both went down and I landed on top. As I began choking him, the hood had fallen off his head. He had dark hair and eyes. I stared into those eyes and gave him “the look” that I had long since learned so well. His eyes widened and he began to struggle. I tightened my hold on his neck and he began to claw at my hands.

  Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.

  I would have killed him. But one of his friends came to the rescue and knocked me away. Before I could stand, I was grabbed from both sides and my arms were pinned. The guy I was strangling stood, hands at his throat, and he sneered.

  “Whatever’s in that bag must really be something if you’re willing to fight for it so bad.” He picked it up and shrugged it over his shoulder. Then on his way past, he buried his fist into my gut. I doubled over in pain and the two holding me released me, thinking I would go down.

  Make him pay for that.

  I reached out, grabbing the two men closest to me and smashed them together, spinning away as they crumpled to the ground. I went after the one with my bag, but two more guys stepped in my path.

  I started fighting with them, taking punches, throwing them. Until one of the men pulled out a knife. Its silver blade glinted beneath the moon.

  I crouched low, ready to face my opponent when a flash of black shot over my shoulder. A huge animal lunged at the two men. Their screams pierced the night, high, terrified wails that were abruptly silenced by an equally deafening growl. One of the men swayed on his feet and I thought he might fall, but then he found his footing and shot forward, desperate to get away.

  But there was no getting away from this beast.

  One swipe of a massive paw with lethal claws and his fear was over. So was his life.

  The man with my bag over his shoulder stumbled, knowing his cohort was dead, knowing that he was next.

  It was interesting to watch someone being stalked. Watching the exact moment that they realized these were the last moments of life they would know. The black beast prowled toward the man who was begging, stumbling and shaking. The creature seemed to revel in the hunt, the kill.

  Fear tastes good. I shook my head against the voice. Yet, part of me agreed.

  All too easily, he was tackled to the ground with a sickening crack. I saw the beast raise its claws and I wanted to look away. I tried. But just like before, I was frozen, unable to do what I wanted. I watched as the man was slaughtered. His skin was literally flayed open with ease—like a knife going through butter. Since I couldn’t look away, I closed my eyes, shutting off the view of what lay beneath the man’s skin. His murder lasted mere seconds, but it was still beyond brutal. The smell of blood, sharp and pungent, permeated the air.

  The others had taken their chance and disappeared, not loyal to the ones being attacked at all. But I realized I would have done the same thing. Every man for himself, I thought. I was ashamed that I would think only of myself, but I didn’t have long to dwell on it because the animal was prowling toward me. I looked straight at it, refusing to cower, and then shock reverberated through me.

  It was a hellhound!

  “Sam,” I whispered, my chest tightening so much that I could hardly breathe. I finally found him. Sam was clutching the bag in his jaws an
d when he got closer, he dropped it at my feet.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” I exclaimed.

  Sam began to shift, a process that took only seconds and didn’t appear to hurt at all. This confused me because it hurt so badly when I shifted… but my thoughts were interrupted because before me stood a girl.

  She was naked.

  This was not my brother.

  The woman smirked, tossed back her very long, very dark hair and brushed by me where she picked up a blood-red trench coat that was lying on the ground. She slipped into it and belted the waist. Her eyes turned to me and she smiled. “I’m China.”

  “You’re a hellhound,” I said, shocked.

  “Just like you.”

  “How did you know?”

  She smiled. “You smell just like one.” She tilted her head to the side. “Couldn’t you smell me coming?”

  “No,” I admitted, curious.

  “You’re a new shifter, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “I’ve been looking for my brother.” I never considered that there were other hounds out there besides me and Sam.

  China’s eyebrow lifted. “Really? I know some other hounds.”

  “Sam,” I said, feeling the hope rising in me. “My brother’s name is Sam.”

  “You’re Sam’s brother? Are you Logan?”

  She knew my name! “Do you know him?”

  She nodded. “He’s my roommate.”

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat and willed the tears away. Only babies cried. Hellhounds that lived on the streets did NOT cry. “Can you take me to him?”

  China shook her head slowly. “Sorry, I have somewhere to be.”

  My hope fell away to be replaced with anger. If she wouldn’t take me to my brother, she was of no use to me. Maybe I would just show her what happened when someone crossed me. No. Do not harm her, the voice spoke, and the anger I felt seemed to melt away. Sam was right. I shouldn’t hurt his roommate.

  “But I can give you the address and directions to our place.”

  “Yeah?” I smiled. Sam always gave me good advice.

  “Got any paper in that bag?” She glanced at my backpack.

  I unzipped it and found a scrap of paper and a pen. China took it and scribbled down an address. “It’s about an hour from here,” she said as she wrote. “I’ll write the roads to take. When you get into this town,” she said, circling the name I couldn’t yet see, “just ask for directions to the street we live on.”

  “Why can’t you just take me?”

  She laughed. It was a wicked sound. “Because I have a date.” She handed me the paper and I took it, sticking it in my pocket. She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Besides your brother and I… we don’t get along so well anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “We used to, but then he met this girl. He’s a lot different now.”

  “He has a girlfriend?” Jealousy filled me, but so did excitement… a hard knot formed in my stomach at the thought of Sam’s girlfriend.

  China smiled. “Yes. I have a feeling that you two will get along famously.” She made it sound like a bad thing.

  “You mean she’s not very nice?”

  Getting in the way. I shook my head at the voice, ignoring the odd statement.

  China considered my words, then took a step closer to me. “I’m going to be honest because you are Sam’s brother, and Sam and I used to be good friends.” I nodded so she would continue. “His girlfriend’s a bitch. A real troublemaker. If I were you, I would do everything I could to get between Sam and Heven.”

  Yes.

  Her words didn’t shock me. It was my reaction to them that did. Part of me wanted to get between Sam and this girl. “Her name is Heven?”

  China nodded. “But don’t let that fool ya, kid. She’s nothing but trouble. Now help me drag these bodies into the bushes.”

  I did as she asked, my stomach revolted every time I had to touch one of the bodies, so I was thankful when we were done. After the nasty job was finished, she began walking away without another word. I stood there for a minute, absorbing everything she said, and when I turned to call out, she was gone. I sank down on the nearby bench and stared up at the fountain. It was shimmering; the air around it seemed to be moving around it differently than everywhere else. I blinked and then my vision cleared.

  I reached into my pocket to pull out the paper she had given me and stared down at the words scrawled across the paper. I had been searching for him for months, but now that I knew where he was, I was nervous.

  What if he didn’t want me, either?

  Where would I go? What would I do? I didn’t think I could go home. China said he had a girlfriend now. Would that mean he had forgotten about me? He probably wouldn’t want his kid brother around now that he had a life of his own.

  Be part of his life.

  I sat there for a long time, debating, wondering what I should do. I must have sat there for hours and eventually, I began to yawn. I snagged up my backpack and stuffed it under my head and closed my eyes. Pictures and memories swam through my head of when Sam and I both lived at home. Times when we were close and I didn’t doubt the bond between us.

  He had a bond with someone else now. Someone new. China said Heven wasn’t a nice girl, that she was trouble. Maybe Sam needed my help.

  That’s what I would do. I would help him.

  Yes, he needs help. Help him.

  I fell asleep.

  * * *

  When I woke up, I wasn’t on the bench. It was clear I wasn’t in Portland anymore. I was beside a lake with the water lapping gently on the shore. The water repelled me and I moved back into the trees. My head was throbbing and my body ached. I snagged a bottle of water out of my backpack and rinsed out my mouth, spitting the water in the dirt. I was starving and I wanted more than the meager contents my bag held. I wandered into town and noted the date on a newspaper at a newsstand and my stomach bottomed out.

  Two days. I had lost two days this time.

  What happened to me? Why was I losing time like this—what did it mean? Near the newsstand I found a small café where I got a hot chocolate, some donuts and a bagel. I was running low on cash and I knew I had to find Sam. When I asked the cashier what town I was in, she looked at me like I had three heads, but after she told me, I stopped paying attention to her. I rushed out of the store and looked up and down the street.

  I was in the same place as my brother!

  I grabbed a man by the arm that was walking by. “Can you tell me where Concord Street is? Is it far from here?”

  The man jerked his arm from my grasp, but then he pointed down the street. “It’s about three blocks that way.”

  “Thanks,” I said and began walking.

  When I got to the apartment, I took a deep breath and went up to the door. This was it. I was going to see my brother. Things would be better from here on out. I knocked and I waited.

  No one answered.

  “You looking to rent the apartment?” a voice called from behind.

  I turned. A man with white hair and beard was standing on the sidewalk looking at me. “No, I was visiting someone. Is this place for rent?” Had I missed him again?

  “It’s not empty yet, but it’s for rent. The occupants gave their notice.”

  “Do you know where the renters are now?”

  “Nope. Couple of them already moved out. The place is just about vacant, but it’s paid through next week. He’ll be coming back to clean it out between now and then.”

  “He?”

  The man nodded and his eyes narrowed, starting to get suspicious.

  “Is his name Sam? I’m his brother Logan. I–I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  The man’s face softened. “Yeah, that’s him.”

  Hope soared within me. I wasn’t too late! He was still here! I thanked the man who asked me once more if I wanted to rent the place. When I said no, he got into a blue car and drove away. I sat down on the
steps and let out a sigh.

  I was anxious to see Sam. I had no clue if he would even want me around, but I had to take the chance. Not only was he my brother, but deep down I had this driving need to be with him. Something inside me was urging me to get closer, to find out everything I could about my brother. The landlord said he would be back sometime between now and next week. All I had to do was wait. He would show up eventually, and when he did, I wouldn’t be alone anymore. Someone would finally understand what I had been through.

  And if anyone got in the way of my being with Sam… well….

 

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