Submerging Inferno

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Submerging Inferno Page 5

by Brandon Witt


  Those damned eyes! How had I not realized the guy had been a vampire? Even if I hadn’t seen his eyes, the fact that a man that looked like Brett was entranced by such a scrub should have been clue enough that something was amiss.

  Before I realized I no idea where I was going, I’d run nearly two blocks from the restaurant. I stopped abruptly and forced myself to pause and look around. Other than a few people who were still gawking at me, wondering why I’d torn through the crowds only to stop and stare, no one even seemed to notice there was anything out of the ordinary. They continued to talk and laugh, wait in lines outside of bars and restaurants, and peruse shop after shop. Twinkling lights draped in the ancient trees overhead gave a soft, romantic light to the scene. Trumpets and guitars sang out over the crowd, making it impossible to hear anything.

  For a moment, I searched for the vampire. There were scores of people roaming through the streets, and at least half a dozen had red hair. Then I realized it was Brett I should be searching for. He was the one who would stand out. There wasn’t one other person in Old Town who could be mistaken for him.

  Even so, he was nowhere to be seen. If what I knew about vampires was true, I didn’t have much time, and I’d already wasted too much sitting in the booth. I should have gotten to Brett before he’d even made it to the door instead of getting all butt-hurt.

  I shook the thoughts away. Hindsight wouldn’t help me find Brett and the vampire. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths. As much as I could, I let the outside world fade away. Within a few seconds, the noise of Old Town receded to the level of a muted television in the background. Once I was certain I was as centered as I was going to get, I cast my senses around me.

  Again I began with the vampire foremost in my mind. Focusing on his dirty appearance, his red hair, his green eyes.

  Nothing.

  I waited, pushing my senses further.

  Still nothing.

  With a groan of frustration, I opened my eyes, and the world rushed in with a torrent of sensations. Of course I couldn’t find the vampire. The monster was dead, after all. No heartbeat, no pulse. No sign of life other than his victim’s blood coursing through his veins.

  Chiding myself, I slammed my eyes shut once more. It took longer to get centered this time. Both my annoyance with myself and my fear that I wouldn’t find him hindered my attempts to block out the world.

  I could see Brett clearly in my mind. His California blond hair. Gorgeous face, porcelain skin. Huge shoulders. Dusting of golden chest hair visible in the V of his button-down.

  The countless people around made locating anything nearly impossible. Too many heartbeats. Too many thoughts and desires. Too much pain. Even worse, I had nothing to go on about Brett other than his physicality. As striking as he was, his body wasn’t who he was. It wouldn’t help me find him. I had no idea what he was like. I didn’t even have the timbre of his voice to give me a clue to his inner being. Still, I needed to find him. I had to try.

  Using all the strength I had, I opened my eyes once more while keeping my senses spread out around me. Everything was dimmed, as if looking through a filter. Even the sounds from the crowd and band were heard as if from a distance.

  I glanced up and down the main strip of Old Town. I tried to see the space like a vampire might. Like a predator who needed some amount of privacy.

  There were endless side streets and alleyways. Too many to check. Too many to even walk by. The thought brought on a panic that nearly caused me to lose my focus, and I paused once more until I regained the strength I’d had previously. I couldn’t think about all the different streets, all the possibilities. I had to work with what I could do. Again I looked in both directions on the main street. I knew that southeast lead to the entrance to the highway. No way the vampire would head toward the Five. He’d take his victim as far from people as he could.

  Feeling somewhat encouraged, I headed off in the opposite direction, which was still in the heart of Old Town, but the farther the road went, the more it delved into the residential neighborhoods that surrounded the tourist trap.

  Still focused on a revolving image of Brett’s face and perfect body, I made my way slowly down the sidewalk. Even the picture I had in my mind was already fading. I’d only seen him for a matter of minutes. As pretty as he was, his appearance had begun to morph into a stereotypical conglomeration of male features.

  How long had it been since he’d left with the monster? Five minutes? Ten? I was willing to bet it had been at least ten minutes, probably more. How long did it take for a vampire to kill a person? I doubted it took all that long. Brett was a pretty big man. Maybe that would buy him some time. I cursed my sheltered upbringing. If Mom and Dad hadn’t protected us from every little thing, maybe I’d have a chance at finding Brett in time.

  Again I shook off the unneeded thoughts. My fear brought a spike of inspiration. I may not know anything about Brett, but I did have an idea how he was feeling. At least I did if the vampire wasn’t controlling Brett’s thoughts and emotions.

  I let my terror flow freely. It was so intense that I had to wait as my body adjusted to functioning under such stress. When I’d regained control, I refocused my senses, this time searching for fear, for pain, for anything that might tell me something traumatic was happening. With so many people behind me in Old Town and around me in the surrounding neighborhood, there was a good chance there could be several people having such emotions. Surely none would be as strong as the terror a person would feel while being bitten by a vampire

  A few more minutes passed before I felt a surge of fear. It was coming from somewhere in front of me. I couldn’t tell where exactly, but it was there, and it felt strong enough to be caused by a vampire. Maybe.

  No sooner had I picked up my speed than the fear abruptly stopped. It was so sudden that it caused me to halt where I was. It had been him. He’d been terrified, and then he died. I was too late.

  So what? Even if he was dead, I needed to find him. I took off in a jog in the same direction from which I’d felt the fear cease. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when I found him. What if the vampire was still there? The only good that would bring was giving him one more snack.

  A new rush of fear surged over me, and I started running. This time I was certain. He was still alive, and he was still somewhere in front of me. I was going the right direction. No doubt. It was getting stronger. The fear was so intense I was sure it came from someone being killed. Surely there wouldn’t be someone else suffering such a fate at the exact same moment.

  Again the fear stopped, as surely as if someone had closed a door on it. The thought of his death was quickly pushed aside by another surety that both gave me hope and caused my terror to increase. The vampire wasn’t letting him feel his fear. He was making him feel something else, or nothing at all. While that meant he probably had a little time left, I was scared to even imagine what could be happening to him.

  I tore off, running full speed, the sound of my shoes shouting as they smacked against the uneven sidewalk.

  Forcing my senses further and further from me, I kept running, the haze around me building. I barely dodged low-hanging branches and hardly kept from falling over uneven cracks in the cement. I glanced down every driveway and alley I passed, but saw nothing.

  Pain and terror crashed over me again, nearly crushing me to the ground.

  I’d gone too far! I felt him behind me. I wheeled and sprinted back the way I’d come, Brett’s agony increasing with every step I took. After passing one of the alleys I’d crossed by earlier, I felt his sensations drift behind me once more. Momentarily confused, I dashed back to the alley and looked down. Nothing.

  Another spike of pain.

  I was on the wrong block! I rushed down the alley, slipping on some sort of ooze beside a dumpster but managed to keep from falling. Exiting on the other side, I slowed, getting another read on his feelings. When I was certain, I veered to my left and broke out i
nto a full run once more.

  A scream cut through the night. Pure terror and anguish laced the sound. Wave after wave of emotions washed over me. His fear was increasing to a level that was nearly impeding my ability to move.

  Once again, like being doused by a bucket of cold water, his terror vanished, leaving me empty.

  I was close. I knew I was. There was no way his feelings could have been that strong if he was still a long way off.

  I rushed on to the next alley, slowing as I neared its entrance, and peeked in. Nothing.

  Running again, I tore down the next block, slowing a few feet from the next alley opening.

  I glanced in and nearly started running again, but halted as the scene halfway down the alley under the solitary streetlamp took form in front of my eyes. It took a moment to make sense of it.

  They were facing away from me. All I could see were bare feet and a scrawny ass pointed in my direction, moving in a disgusting motion. The events formed in shocking clarity as the vampire reared up, his back illuminated in the yellow light. From somewhere below him a jet of blood spewed out like a fount of glistening rubies.

  I fell back, a scream rising in my throat as my eyes blurred with hot tears of anger. I was too late. Mere moments too late!

  Paralyzed, I stared as the vampire lowered himself once more toward Brett’s lifeless form. Unthinking, I took a step forward, ready to rush at him.

  My scream of fury was cut short as Brett’s hands shot up and clasped the vampire’s shoulders.

  Again I paused in a wash of confusion. Then joy took its place. Brett was alive. I’d made it in time.

  I started forward again, only to be thrown back as the vampire burst into flames.

  I stared in dumb awe as the creature, screaming in high-pitched agony, threw himself from Brett. He landed against the opposite alley wall. Its crumbling bricks exploded with dust, the particles glistening in the blazing fire.

  Still screaming, the vampire fell to the ground. His body twisted and beat against the pavement, stirring up the trash around him, small fires breaking out, then quickly suffocating.

  I couldn’t force my body to move, not that I’d have known what to do anyway. Finally the flames died, and the monster crawled back to the wall and pulled himself up to a standing position.

  I couldn’t suppress a gasp. The skin on his face and upper body was charred away, blackened and revealing huge portions of his skull and bones.

  He lurched toward Brett, who was still lying on the ground. He looked like he was going to stomp on him or smash in his head, killing him one way or another.

  The thought allowed my body freedom once more, and I tore down the alley. I’m unsure if I yelled. Not certain if the vampire heard me coming or not. Regardless of the reason, he swiveled away from me and faltered down the alley.

  For the briefest of moments, I considered following him. Surely in his state I could catch up. However, even injured as he was, I knew it would take no effort on his part to kill me. As I approached Brett, all my attention was drawn to him, anyway.

  His eyes were closed, and for a moment I thought I was too late, that he’d died in the last few moments. Then his chest moved slightly, and relief flooded through me.

  He was a mess—a gaping wound on the side of his neck still seeping blood. His naked body was covered in the crimson liquid. Claw marks were scattered over what I could see of his chest, stomach, and upper thighs.

  To my surprise, I didn’t hesitate. I’d been indecisive too often tonight, and it had cost him. No more.

  I moved behind his head, slipped my hands under his armpits, and dragged him to the side of the dumpster, close enough that he was mostly covered in shadow.

  I turned and dashed forward a few feet, my hand already digging in my pocket for the keys to the Chevy. Then a thought hit me, and I rushed back to Brett. I checked to make sure there were no other people around and then knelt beside him, once again making sure he was breathing.

  When I saw that he was, I placed my hand a few millimeters over the skin of his chest and drew all my focus to the blood covering him. As I drifted my hand over him, the blood pooled into streams and poured off his body, accumulating in the cracks of the concrete. Once his body was clean, I found his clothes discarded on the other side of the dumpster and wrestled him into them.

  As much as I could, I averted my eyes from his body—focusing on his face and the pulse at his neck. From what I’d seen, the last thing he deserved was a stranger taking the opportunity to inspect his body. There was nothing sexy about his abused form or how close he’d come to death. Nor the fact that he might not have suffered at all if I had been a little quicker to realize what was going on.

  I rearranged him once more beside the dumpster so anyone wandering by would think he was just a drunk sleeping off too much tequila. The chances of anyone coming this far from Old Town were slim anyway, and anyone living around here probably wouldn’t be making a late-night trip to put out the garbage.

  Once again I tore off down the alley, running as fast as I could back to my truck.

  Chapter 6

  BRETT WRIGHT

  “WHAT were you thinking? How could you bring it here, to our house?”

  “What should I have done? Leave him there to die?”

  “It’s a demon. It wouldn’t have died.”

  “You don’t know that. That doesn’t even make sense.”

  I could tell the voices were angry. They should have been loud, but they seemed muffled, a long way off. I wanted to open my eyes, but even the thought sounded too exhausting. I just wanted to rest. A flash of irritation shot through me—couldn’t they tell someone was trying to sleep? Whatever their problem, couldn’t they take it elsewhere?

  “Get back in the truck and go dump it somewhere else. Take it back where you found it.”

  “Mom, seriously. You weren’t there. I don’t think he’s a demon. If he were, the vampire would have been obliterated.”

  I must have fallen asleep on the couch again, and Sonia was playing one of the stupid movies she was always making me watch. I tried to turn over to reach for the remote control, but as I did, I felt a rip at my neck. My eyes shot open, wide-awake, as the pain made me gasp. I tried to sit up, but the motion caused me to lose my balance, and I tipped off the edge, my hand coming down to stop my fall.

  When my hand came into contact with a floor mat, I realized I wasn’t on my sofa. I glanced around, the motion once again causing me to grimace in pain. I felt like I had fallen down a couple of flights of stairs. Every muscle was throbbing and on fire. I took in the glove compartment in front of my face, the stick shift gouging into my side, and the steering wheel at my feet with a Chevy emblem in the middle. My eyes shot up toward the windshield. The moon was barely peeking out from behind a cloud.

  Tentatively, I lay back down and tried to calm my breathing enough that I could figure out what was happening. It only took a few moments before I saw the charred monster above me, his hollow eyes bringing back everything. I shot up in the seat, once again crying out at the pain that caused my vision to go dark for a second. I heard the female voice gasp, and I looked out the windshield to see two figures staring at me.

  I grabbed the door handle and shoved with all my weight. It flew open, and I crashed to the ground. The gravel from the driveway cut into the palms of my hands, but before I could feel the injury, I shoved off the ground and began to lurch forward, away from the two figures, away from the truck, away from the talk of demons and vampires.

  My legs gave out before I had taken my second step. Maybe I had been in an accident. My muscles were screaming at me in fury.

  “Wait!” I heard the male’s voice behind me and feet running in my direction. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Please, stop. Everything’s okay!”

  I took off again, this time on my hands and knees.

  “Stay!” This time it was the female voice, harsh and commanding.

  My body froze, one bloody palm stretc
hed out, unable to go any further.

  “Mom, don’t! You don’t need to!”

  “Be still!” I heard a crack, and then nothing else.

  WITH a groan I opened my eyes, expecting to see the gravel, possibly the inside of the truck again. Instead, there was a white ceiling fan circling above me. I blinked, waiting for my vision to return. When I opened them again, the fan was still there. My gaze left the fan and followed around the small, square ceiling and made its way over the walls. I was in a tiny bedroom. The walls were pale lavender, with a wallpaper border of pink and blue pansies halfway down. Translucent blue curtains framed a small window. A dim shadow of a tree swayed gently outside. It appeared to still be night. What if it were a different night? How long had I been unconscious? The thought brought a rush of panic. I started to move to the window, but I couldn’t. My body didn’t seem to be responding to directions. I tried again. Nothing. I didn’t feel so much as a muscle flex. I glanced down to see what I was tied up with, only to realize I couldn’t even move my head. I rolled my eyes down, trying to see my body. It was the strangest sensation I had ever experienced. I almost expected to not see anything where my body should be. I had no awareness of my arms or legs, and I couldn’t feel myself taking breaths. I felt like I was a floating brain with eyes. Thankfully, as my gaze traveled down, I could see everything was still attached. I couldn’t see anything binding me. I looked like I was just lying on a bed.

  Again, I told myself to sit up. Nothing happened, not so much as a twitch. Maybe I was paralyzed. Something that thing in the alley had done to me! No, that was earlier. I had been in a truck—I almost got away. Maybe whoever had been outside arguing had hit me and broken my back. My heart sank at the thought. That had to be it. I was paralyzed. I wouldn’t ever walk again. Never swim. I wouldn’t be able to defend myself if they came back.

  When they came back.

  In desperation, I peered over at my right hand, which was sprawled out away from my body, palm up on the bed. I focused all my concentration on my little finger, telling it to move, to curl. Nothing. It felt like my body should be trembling with effort, sweating with the intensity of will. Nothing.

 

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