by Atha, DL
Outside the cellar, the field was quiet. A couple of mice played tug of war a few feet away; the frogs were beginning their evening chorus. I was surprised. I’d expected to still hear the police, but I guess they’d collected all of their evidence. Most likely, they’d left a couple officers posted along the roadway and some closer to my driveway. Surely, I was a fugitive by now. Detective Rumsfield had told the central office that he’d shot me. He was in the hospital, and I was nowhere to be seen. They’d probably been issuing all points bulletins about me since early this morning.
I pushed my senses out even further, listening for the sounds of traffic. I heard the low rumble of a semi on the highway and the higher pitch of some passing cars. About a mile up the road, I could hear the neighbor’s dogs put up a ruckus, probably over a squirrel or raccoon, and in between these sounds, the static of walkie‐talkies. The cops were out there, but they weren’t close. Probably a couple hundred feet past my mailbox. No doubt they weren’t expecting me to come in from the pasture, or to come in at all. A smart criminal would have been gone by now. I listened awhile longer but heard nothing more than the typical background noise of the forest.
I surveyed the house from outside the cellar. The windows were dark, the electricity still off, and from the back deck, I could see yellow streamers lifting up long yellow arms in the breeze. The outdoor ceiling fans spun incessantly, pushed by the wind. The remnants of last summer’s roses scratched the kitchen windows. I could hear the high‐pitched scraping from where I stood. It was an empty, forlorn scene, and I screwed up my mouth to hold back the tears, but a few, tinged red, managed to slip out.
I wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. My first thought was of Ellie. I considered going to see her or checking in with Mom. I couldn’t call her. I’d have to make a face‐to‐face visit. My cellphone had gone dead shortly after I’d called the number I found in Asa’s bag. I hadn’t charged it, and for once, I was happy my phone was dead. The police couldn’t track it. But of course, I couldn’t call Ellie either. I was, once again, disconnected from the world.
Logic told me I should leave my house. Counter logic told me to hide where they’d least expect me to be. I considered the options and decided to stay on my own property. Maybe it was the comfortable decision or maybe the most logical. I couldn’t really tell anymore.
Either way, a shower seemed like a good idea. Filthy was not a strong enough adjective to describe me. Rank wouldn’t come close either. I’d make it a quick one and pack a bag of clothes just in case I needed a quick departure.
I’d climbed the last step onto the deck when I noticed a message scrawled with my daughter’s red chalk on the deck floor.
“Who are you?” it read. The letters were large and wrapped around the house. Certainly not the small neat handwriting of my daughter. The police? I wondered, but that seemed unlikely. They knew who I was. Local doctor turned killer. Child‐ abandoning mother. Psycho at large.
So if not the cops, then who? The red chalk lay neatly on the patio table while the rest of the colors were scattered across the concrete. I brought the chalk to my face and inhaled deeply but could smell nothing but my own hand. Had they worn gloves? And why were they asking me this question? Did they know what I was? Were they covering their scent intentionally? And if so, why didn’t they ask what I was?
Suddenly the backdrop of the forest didn’t look so inviting. The dark border of trees frowned back at me, a dark slash in the face of the pasture. The barns with their hundreds of hiding spots menaced me from the backyard. I’d begun to consider over the last few days that I knew essentially nothing of my new world. There were other vampires somewhere. Logically, I recognized that fact, but what else was out there? I’d read about vampire hunters on the web while I was housebound during my week of captivity with Asa. Maybe Rumsfield had been given more credence for his crazy ideas than I’d realized.
Jumping straight up, I took to the pergola and then flung upward even farther into the trees, walking catlike out to distribute my body mass across several small limbs. I held myself perfectly still except my roving gaze that searched the landscape for anything out of the normal.
The night was quiet around me as the light breeze had died down, and I listened closely, hearing nothing except for the occasional static of the walkie‐talkies down the road and the creaking of the limbs around me. I hadn’t realized until now that the forest around my house had become strangely quiet, an eerie silence without the natural sounds of industrious animals going about their nightly business. I wasn’t sure when the ceasing of their movement had begun. I’d been too involved in my pity party to have noticed.
Not moving, I lay perfectly still except my eyes, which I kept constantly moving, looking for anything out of the ordinary. In the distance, I could feel something else do the same thing. It was probably more of a hunch than anything else, but I was convinced I was being watched. The words stared up at me from the deck. Who are you? They’d asked. Time became nothing more than a march to the rising of the sun and a waiting game of who would come out first.
As I watched the stars in their migration across the sky, I became more alarmed about my situation. Dawn could not be stopped; I could feel the beginnings of its searing power hovering on the edge of my consciousness. I was terrified to be trapped in my house. Where would I go with this something watching me? Did the penman know what I was? Was he mocking me? Did he know of my failings? I could only imagine that whoever or whatever watched me from the shadows knew something was amiss. But why the games?
I had little time to consider it further as the brilliance of the sun was beginning to glow on the horizon. Fear overcame me as I flipped down out of the trees, landing smoothly on the ground. I streaked to my hiding hole, more afraid of hiding in my own house than what awaited me in the woods. Having no more time to think of what stalked me, I cleared the fence in one leap, landing many feet on the other side, and without missing a step continued on to the ancient cellar.
I dared not even glance in the direction of the horizon. I raced across the pasture and reached for the cellar door hidden beneath the decades of brush. I wrapped my hands around the metal handle only a minute or two before the sun exploded into view.
I threw the door open, almost to safety, when powerful arms wrapped around me, keeping me from my haven. I spun to face my captor, bared my teeth, and hissed deep in my throat at who dared to keep me from the safety of the dark. If they’d been human, they’d have been dead.
But it was no human who held me. I found myself facing what I immediately recognized as another vampire. Fangs bared, he hissed back. I had only seconds before I’d be dead for the day, and I struggled to break his grasp.
My mind was clouded by an uncontrollable fear as I struggled and fought. I used every weapon available to me. I lashed out with my arms and legs, tore at him with my teeth, but I was unable to break free, my strength lacking compared to his. Didn’t he know we were in danger? Was he a fool? Did he want to die? “Stop!” he hissed roughly into my ear; taking hold of my face and forcing me to look at him, the first words that either of us had spoken.
“Are you a fool? Let go of me. We will die here!” I shrieked up into his face, but he simply laughed at me.
“You are very young,” he stated as if it were a simple fact and I had no cause for concern. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he shoved me backwards through the door into the cellar. The last image I saw was the first golden glow, heralding the sun’s approach, casting the vampire in black outline. Tattooed and burnt into my mind, I stared at the image as I fell backwards into the cellar. I was gone before I hit the floor.
Chapter 17
I woke to the smell of onions and potatoes. Too many nights spent sleeping on old mattresses in my grandmother’s storm shelter waiting out Missouri tornados would forever associate those earthy smells with safety, and for the briefest of moments, I felt safe. A little girl whose worst fears were the cold walk back to the house i
n the rain after the winds had ceased and the pale, harmless lightning dancing across the sky. The calm after the storm. Everything was going to be fine. Daddy would soon light the kerosene lamp, and if the ground was really wet, he’d carry me in his arms back to the house, the lamp swinging in his left hand as we went. I laid my cheek back against the cool dirt and waited.
A sharp boot in my ribs destroyed the illusion. I jerked to a sitting position as I remembered the last moments of this morning and searched the darkness of the shelter. My eyesight was still dim, but better than it had been before the run‐in with Rumsfield. Already, I was hungry again, and the blood from the detective would soon wear thin. I could make out the simple shapes in the utter darkness of the shelter, enough to know I wasn’t alone. I could sense him a few feet from me. No scent, no heartbeat. Not human. I remembered the strength in his arms this morning. So he hadn’t killed me after all. I was more than a little surprised.
“You’re very young,” the vampire said from the far wall of the shelter.
He’d said the same thing this morning. “You’re repeating yourself. Tell me something I don’t know,” I answered.
“How very brave you sound. How about I tell you that I can make out the color of your hair even in the complete darkness, while you could barely tell me where I was standing if not for my voice. That kind of hunger is painful, isn’t it?”
The door grated against the dirt floor as he pushed it partially open. A booted foot came into view. Thankfully, it was a near cloudless night and enough ambient light from the stars bent around the door that I could see my captor.
He was leaning against the wall just to the left of the door watching me. His stance was relaxed, his arms crossed loosely against his chest, the foot he’d used to push the door open resting against the wall, knee bent, while the other long leg was stretched forward. But for all of his casual stance, his eyes were icy. I stared back just as coldly and did my best not to flinch.
I growled a low warning at him as he pushed away from the wall and took a step towards me, one that I was powerless to act on. He smirked and kneeled down in front of me. I’d gotten to one knee, my other leg and arms resting in a runner’s position. I hissed another warning.
“You’re no match for me. So keep the idle threats to yourself.” His voice was calm but held an edge that was meant to be recognized.
Weakness gives some people a fake sweetness. Me, it just made surly. “Wanna make a bet?” I asked.
“Sure. I’ll bet you I can pull your heart out of your chest before you can make it to the door,” he said. The look on his face said he wasn’t joking.
Marginally friendlier now, I asked a different question. “What do you want?”
“Answers.”
“Well, there’s always Google,” I said.
“Cute,” the man answered. “Here’s a question: Do you want to live more than another ten minutes?”
I didn’t say anything. My answer would give too much away. “That’s what I thought, so cut the crap. Next question: Who are you?” he asked. It was the same three words written in red letters on my porch. At least he was consistent, but I still wasn’t sure I understood what he was asking.
“If you wanted my name, you could have read it off the mailbox.”
“If it was your name I was interested in, I could have read it off the search warrant hanging on your front door. There were no less than six cop cars and a score of policemen running around here this morning after you went to sleep for the day. And you, nothing but a scared infant, in a big bad vampire’s world. You’re in no position to act so mighty, but given that you are obviously newly reborn, I will rephrase the question. To whom do you belong?” he asked, reaching out and forcing my face towards his. “I sure as hell don’t belong to you, so you better get your hands off me.”
“Again, bold talk for a starving child.” A smile crossed his features as his grip on the back of my head became tighter. “Have you been abandoned, or are you being punished by your blood maker and are being starved?”
I smiled hatefully. “I killed my blood maker.”
I had his attention now, and he stared at me in clear shock for a couple of seconds, and I don’t mean a good wow stare. This was more like an “I’m going to fricking kill” you stare. My muscles gathered to spring forward, but he jerked me to my feet before I could bolt. He bared his fangs, and I knew he could have severed my head from my neck in less than the time it had taken me to spit those words out.
His first thought really was to end me, but indecision played across his face momentarily, and he loosened his grip on my neck. I slipped from his grasp and landed hard on my knees.
“Perhaps I have miscalculated your strength if you killed Asa. Or perhaps you are lying, and you were left as a distraction for me.”
“Or you miscalculated Asa’s arrogance,” I answered. “Why do you care? Who was he to you?”
“My brother,” he said through gritted teeth. Truly shocked, I stared at him speechless.
“Asa was your brother?” The shock was so potent that for a moment I forgot how scared I was. “I … don’t know what to say. Asa never mentioned … He told me about his mother and sister. And how he killed his fiance, but he never mentioned a brother.” I studied his features, looking for a family resemblance.
“I’m not his human brother. I meant that we were of the same sacred bloodline. Asa cared nothing for family though, so you can understand my surprise now that I learn he had a child and even more worrisome now knowing that his child destroyed him. He must have trusted you, and how did you, after all these years, manage to reach him?”
“I’m not his child,” I said, the words nearly burning my tongue. “He made me by accident. He didn’t know what he’d done because he had no idea I was turning. I was his hostage—his blood whore. Nothing else. No one ever reached Asa. He was cold and hard to the bitter end, and he got what he deserved.” I turned my head away so he couldn’t see the red‐tinged tears streaming down my face. He didn’t say anything as I wiped the tears away with one hand. I was grateful. Knowing you’re weak and having someone make snide comments about it are two separate things. “So what does that make me to you? Your niece?” I laughed.
In the bending light from the doorway, he lowered his gaze, and I saw his eyebrows lift and the corners of his mouth tilt up in a crooked smile. Maybe it was my imagination, but for a moment, I think he got my dark humor. But the moment passed quickly, and I felt the tingling of fear pool in my limbs.
“No,” he answered quietly. “It makes you a target.” His tone held a threat and so did his crossed arms and resolute jaw when he lifted his gaze to mine again. He wasn’t joking. “In our world, a child who kills her blood maker is to be destroyed. As his brother, it falls to me to avenge him. The blood bond is sacred, and the penalty for such desecration is to burn in the first light of dawn.”
Again, I considered bolting for the door or launching into an attack that I knew I stood no chance of winning. But I couldn’t bring myself to move. Instead, I began to laugh the crazy, uncontrollable laughter of those who stand on the precipice of their own breakdown. One more step would take me completely off the deep end.
“Well if that ain’t the pot calling the kettle black.” I pushed up from the ground to stand in his face, all fear gone for the minute. My ‘father’ holds me hostage for a week, threatens to kill my family if I don’t cooperate, then makes me watch as he kills some poor innocent man before he finally turns on me. But because he’d spread this disease to me, I should have been so grateful that I just let him kill me whenever the mood struck him. And since I chose to fight back, his avenging brother, who he never mentioned by the way because he didn’t give a shit about anyone, shows up to punish me. That’s about par for the course. Makes perfect sense.” I jammed my finger into his chest with the last three words. Then, for good measure, I shoved him as hard as I could. He didn’t move so I shoved him again.
“Watch it, child,” he
hissed. “Don’t spread yourself too thin.”
“I’m not a child, so quit calling me that. And quit threatening me. I’m sick of it. You want me dead?” I spread my arms wide and motioned to my heart. “Then get it over with because I am ready to die this time. Asa took everything else from me; you might as well take the leftovers.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to see it coming. Talk is one thing, actions another.
I waited for the proverbial axe to fall, but the blow never came. I opened my eyes to find him leaning against the damp wall of the shelter looking at me as if I was a one‐person jester act. “Hunger does make one dramatic,” he said.
It was the last straw. My vision went red as reason left me, and I launched myself against him, fangs bared and fingers curled into claws. I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t even land so much as a scratch. He caught me easily in his arms, and in a split second, slammed me to the ground. The sole of his boot tore into my skin as he ground his foot into my chest. I’d seen this move on the WWF. It never ended well, and despite my wrenching on his leg, I couldn’t budge it.
“Child, you are too weak and starved to come against me.” “I’m not your child!” I spat back at him, writhing underneath his foot. As with Asa, I didn’t want to die at this man’s feet, but it was looking very likely that dying on my back was unavoidable. “No, but you’re still a child. My dead brother’s bastard child.
He was little more than a bastard himself, and it appears history repeats itself. What to do with you,” he mused as he leaned down and pulled me to my feet. “Do not lie to me. Did Asa want you for an eternal companion and you chose to betray him? Be careful. Your lips will decide your destiny. Lies come hard to the inexperienced, and I am quite experienced.” His eyes traveled down my body.
I shivered at the hidden meaning in his last word. He smiled when I caught his double meaning. Taking a deep breath as I remembered Asa’s mocking face in my mind, I forced myself to not look away from his searing gaze.
