by Amy Cross
"Are you okay?" I ask.
She shows me the finger. There's a bead of blood on the end. "Is that bad?" she asks. "Am I gonna get, like, infected or something now?"
I shake my head. "I don't think so. I think I'd have to bite you properly, and even then I don't know what would happen. I don't think it's as simple as just getting bitten and turning into a vampire." I stare at the blood as it trickles down her finger. "I haven't really tested my teeth out yet. I don't know what they can do. There's still a lot I don't know about myself."
"Have you bitten anyone before?" she asks.
"Not yet."
"Are you going to?"
"I guess, some day. Not now."
She pauses. "Are you going to bite me?"
I shake my head. "That's not something I was planning to do."
She takes a deep breath. "Maybe you should," she says after a moment. "Maybe if we were both vampires, we could work together."
"No," I say. "That's not how it works."
"Why not?" she replies. "Don't you want to have a friend? I mean, do you know any other vampires?"
"Only my father," I say, "and he's not... I mean, I don't really know him. He's not my friend. Apart from him, there aren't any other vampires. I don't know the whole story, but the rest of them are all gone."
"So you're all alone?" she asks. "If you kill me, then you'll just be out in the forest by yourself." She smiles. "It's cold out here. Are you cold, or don't you feel things like that?"
I look up at the moon, hanging large and low in the sky. "I feel things like that," I say after a moment, before turning back to face her. I'd barely even noticed, but now I realize I'm close to shivering. "I'm not gonna bite you," I continue. "I don't want you to be like me. I don't -" I pause as I feel the pain in my gut and chest returning. For a moment, it's as if the razors are going to slash through me again, but after a few seconds the pain subsides. It's getting worse each time, though, and more frequent. I can't carry on like this. Having become stronger and stronger over recent days, now I find that I'm getting weaker.
"What's wrong?" Donna asks.
"Nothing," I say, determined not to let her see that I'm sick.
"Don't lie," she says. "Something's wrong with you. It's okay, you can tell me. Maybe I can help..."
I wait for the pain to completely go away. "It's just this feeling I get," I tell her eventually. "Sometimes, it's as if there's a load of razors in me, slicing through my body. I don't know why."
"Is it normal for..." She pauses. "I mean, is it normal for... creatures... like you?"
"I don't know," I reply. "I don't know anything. I'm kind of finding things out as I go along. It's not like someone gave me a guidebook. I can't go online and look this stuff up. Then -" My voice trails off as I realize someone's watching us. Turning to the left, I fully expect to see someone standing in the darkness, but there's no-one. I look around. I swear I felt someone staring straight at me, but there's no-one around.
"What's wrong?" Donna asks.
"Did you feel that?" I reply, turning back to her. "There was someone out there."
She shakes her head.
"You must have felt it," I continue. "There was someone nearby."
She stares at me for a moment. "Help!" she screams suddenly. "Help! Somebody -" I put my hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, holding her down firmly and easily managing to subdue her struggles. Glancing around, I'm still looking for whoever was watching me. I know there was someone: I felt the skin on the side of my neck tingle. We're not alone out here. I don't know who, or why, but there's someone nearby and they've seen us. God knows why they haven't already come over to make their presence known, but I don't feel like being disturbed. I want to be alone with Donna while I work up the courage to finish her off. Why can't the world just leave me alone and let me get on with working out who and what I am?
Shelley
Charles Keller Airport, just outside Dedston.
"Are you serious?" I shout as Todd leads me across the tarmac. It's 2am and the rain is lashing down, with a high wind blowing so fast it's almost impossible to hear anything. A small jet is parked ahead of us, its engines already running, and it's this jet that is apparently set to take us all the way down to Callerton. "You have your own fucking plane?"
"The Watchers have resources!" he shouts back at me as we reach the jet and run up the steps. "There's no time to waste," he continues once we get inside. He turns and slides the door shut. "This way, we can be in Callerton in less than three hours. Even that might not be enough, it might be -" He pauses.
"Might be what?" I ask. "Too late?"
"Let's just get going," he replies, stowing his case in a locker before leading me through to the seating area. He hits a panel on the wall, activating a microphone. "We're on-board," he says, before taking a seat and strapping himself in.
"So the Watchers have their own planes?" I say, starting to wonder just how big this organization has become.
"Just one plane," Todd says, smiling. "They've been around since... Well, let's just say that if you know where to look, the history books are full of references to them. If you go to the Vatican in Rome, there's a symbol representing the Watchers on one of the walls inside the heart of the Holy See. They're a well-connected group." He glances out the window. "Better buckle up. With weather like this, we're in for a bumpy ride."
"Great," I say, sitting down and fastening my seat-belt. I feel like I'm getting dragged deeper and deeper into something pretty huge, and I'm not sure I want to be here. Sure, I want to help Abby, but can I trust these people? After a moment, I look across the aisle and see that Todd is staring at me. "What?" I ask.
"You're scared of flying," he replies with a slight smile.
"No, I'm not," I say defensively.
"You are," he continues. "It's okay, lots of people -"
"I'm not scared!" I say, as the jet starts taxiing to the runway, bumping along the tarmac as it's buffeted by high winds. I look out the window and see the wing lights flashing in the rain; it's hard to believe that a jet could take off in weather like this.
"Silly question," Todd continues, "but have you ever been to Afghanistan?"
I turn to him. "Of course not. Have you?"
He nods. "A few years ago. Local militia groups regularly try to shoot down planes, so you have to descend rapidly in a corkscrew spiral. You head in high over the airport, and then the pilot just drops the plane, round and round until it lands on the tarmac. It's one of the most intense things I've ever experienced. Believe me, after that, any other type of flight seems totally serene."
I stare at him, realizing how little I know about Todd. "What were you doing in Afghanistan?" I ask.
"Training," he replies. "The Watchers sent me there. I've been all over the world. Benjamin likes his men to be able to handle themselves in any situation."
"No kidding," I say. "Sounds... rigorous."
He smiles. "I've hunted werewolves in Siberia. I've been to places you wouldn't even believe exist. I've even been to the Underworld. There are these places, hidden all over the world. They occupy the same space as other areas, but they're extensions of other realities. Whole worlds hidden inside one another. When you -" He pauses. "Sorry, you don't need to know all this stuff. Let's just say, I've been around. Benjamin wanted to make sure I could deal with any situation."
"Sounds like you were in a kind of private army," I tell him, as the jet turns onto the runway.
"I guess you could say that," he replies. "When I started, everyone laughed at me. They saw me as some skinny little asshole who could barely lift a weight. It took me three years to gain any respect at all, but I kept working at it and finally I was accepted by the others. There were times in Afghanistan when I really thought I was going to die, but somehow I always got through. Others weren't always so lucky. I made friends out there, and most of those people ended up being ground up under the wheels of the war machine." He pauses. "I was never scared, though. Each and every time, I kne
w I'd be okay. Do you want to know how I knew?"
I take a deep breath. "I don't know. Do I?"
"This is going to sound a little crazy," he says," and I can't explain it properly, but I've always known that one day I'm going to see Sophie again. I don't know how, or when, or where, but I feel it in here." He taps his chest, directly over his heart. "I don't mean a ghost or an image. I mean the real Sophie. And until that happens, I know I can't die. You probably think I'm insane, but I swear to God it's true."
At that moment, the jet starts moving along the runway, rapidly accelerating. The wind rocks us slightly. "Enjoy the ride," he says with a grin.
"Ha," I reply, gripping the seat for dear life. I look out the window and see the tarmac flashing past, and suddenly I feel the jet lift off the ground. As soon as we're airborne, we tip slightly sideways and I hear the engines roaring. For a moment, I wonder whether this is it: it seems impossible that we're ever going to get through this weather. I have images in my mind of the jet entering a nosedive and plowing into the ground, killing us all in a huge fireball. Miraculously, however, we keep rising and - despite the regular jolts - we finally seem to be above the worst of the bad weather.
"You're terrified," Todd says, smiling.
"I'm really not," I tell him.
"Yes you -"
"Stop saying that!" I say firmly. "Just stop it. So I don't like flying. Big deal. I'm sorry we can't all be like you and get sent off to Afghanistan to get toughened up." I pause, realizing that perhaps I'm being a little unfair. "I remember when you were just a little kid, playing with your toys on the floor. I never realized you were gonna grow up to be such an asshole. Abby's your own flesh and blood. She's all the family you've got left, but you're going after her with a bunch of fucking tranquilizer darts."
"They're a last resort," he replies. "I'm hoping you'll be able to talk her into returning voluntarily."
"And if I can't?"
He takes a deep breath. "She has to come with us. You know that, right?"
I sigh. He's right. Abby's in danger wherever she goes. Out in the wild, she's going to be hunted down by any number of creatures; if she goes with Patrick, she'll end up becoming like him; and if she returns to Dedston and lets Benjamin 'take care' of her, she'll be studied and examined. "What does Benjamin want?" I ask eventually. "I know he says he's just trying to look after Abby, but I don't understand why he wants to do that? Why does he care if she's okay?"
"Benjamin's in charge of the Watchers," Todd replies. "The Watchers have kept track of the vampire world for centuries. They've studied vampire society, they've examined vampire physiology. They have a keen understanding of how vampires work, and they recognize an opportunity to become more involved. Benjamin wants to help shape Abby's destiny so that she becomes more than just a lonely, brooding imitation of Patrick. The Watchers have seen the vampire civil war, and they don't want anything like that to happen again. Abby's the only hope. She's the start of a new line of vampires, and Benjamin's determined to ensure that the mistakes of the past aren't repeated."
"And you trust him?" I ask.
"Implicitly."
"You're sure about that?"
He nods. "The first time I met Benjamin, he seemed like this crazy old guy at Sophie's funeral. I didn't see him again for years, but eventually he got back in touch. He'd seen something in me, something he felt he could use. He brought me into the organization. I don't know where I'd be without him, but I know for a fact that he's a good man."
"I'm just worried that he'll want to... dissect her, or something like that," I reply. "I'm worried he's not being honest."
"Nothing could be further from the truth," Todd replies. "If you can't trust him, then trust me. Like you said, Abby's my family. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to her. Benjamin's her only hope for a safe future. You wouldn't seriously want her to be raised by Patrick, would you?"
I turn and look out the window. "No," I say eventually.
"Then let Benjamin do what he has to do," Todd continues. "He's abrasive and tough. He can come across as an asshole. But he has a good heart. You saw what he did to Patrick. He captured him and nailed him to a fucking wall, and he did that purely because he wanted to protect Abby from her father. Benjamin's a good man. If you and he work together, Abby's going to be in the best possible hands."
I continue looking out the window. Since when was I supposed to act as a kind of surrogate parent for Abby? As much as I care about the girl, there's something about her that makes me feel uneasy. She looks so much like Sophie, but at the same time there's something different in her eyes. She has a lot of her father in her soul, and I'm not sure I want to be around when the vampire side of her personality flares up. I can't help thinking that Abby's far more dangerous than she seems.
Abigail
Callerton, New Mexico.
As the night draws on, I venture to the edge of the forest. From here, I can see across the entire northern side of Callerton, and I find to my surprise that my eyesight is much better than before. I can see distant objects in much greater detail, which means I can see my old house. The sun's rays are just beginning to appear above the horizon, but already I can make out the house where I lived with Evan and Ruth Parlour. I imagine them fast asleep in their beds, with a baby sleeping in Ruth's belly. They must be so happy now, preparing to start their own family. The time they spent with me probably seems like a nightmare they'd rather not relive. Although I'd love to go and speak to them, to see how they're doing, I know that to do so would mean cause them great awkwardness. They've moved on with their lives. Disrupting their happiness is no cure for my loneliness.
Donna is tied and bound deeper in the forest. I placed a piece of fabric tightly over her mouth, to ensure that she can't call out for help. To be honest, I still haven't quite worked out what I'm going to do with her. My initial plan was to torture her a little and then kill her, but now I wonder whether it'd be better to just let her go. As the night has progressed, we've begun to talk and I've come to realize that perhaps she's not so bad after all. Sure, she bullied me, but does that give me the right to kill her? My father would surely have ripped her to pieces by now, but I wonder if my mother would have been more forgiving. I still feel the two sides of my soul pulling against one another, and I want to prove to myself that I'm more like Sophie, in which case I should have let Donna go by now, except... I still have this deep, dark desire to taste blood. If I let Donna live, I'll just have to kill someone else. At least with Donna, I know that she deserves to die.
It's a problem.
Wandering back through the forest, I'm once again struck by the feeling that I'm being watched. Something, or someone, is lurking in the forest, staring at my every move. Every time I look around, I see nothing but darkness, but I know that someone's out there. I want to call out, to demand that the intruder step out and show his or her face; at the same time, I'm scared of what I might see. Is it Patrick, come to assert his dominance over me? Is it Benjamin and his men, who want to drag me back to Dedston and perform experiments on me? Is it some kind of creature, like the Tenderlings from the diner, who want to kill me or take me prisoner? I feel totally alone in the world, and it's as if I'm being hunted from all sides. The only solution is to remain alone forever. I can't trust anyone.
"Where did you go?" Donna asks. She's managed to get the fabric away from her mouth, although she still has ropes tied around her legs and arms. I'd hoped that perhaps she might have slept while I was away, but clearly she's been awake the whole time. I don't blame her; she must be terrified.
"Nowhere," I reply, preferring not to talk to her about my doubts and fears. I've grown to like Donna a little more over the past few hours, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to be her friend. One wrong word from her, and I might still rip her body to pieces. She thinks she can save herself by ingratiating herself, but the truth is that I'm filled with desires that are beyond my control. I want to feel her warm blood in my mouth. I want to rip her t
o shreds. I feel as if I'm destined to kill, but at the same time I feel that perhaps Donna isn't the right person to take as my first victim. I'm starting to like her...
"I think there's something wrong with my arm," she says, holding up the arm that I broke earlier. The skin is turning black. "It doesn't hurt anymore," she continues, "but I think that's a bad thing. I need to go to a hospital. Please."
I shake my head. There's no way I can take her back to civilization. She'd identify me immediately, and then I'd be chased out of town. Worse still, Benjamin and his team would be able to catch up with me. I guess Donna has to die. It's just a matter of how long it takes me to summon up the necessary courage.
"You don't have to be like this," she continues. "I know you're not a monster. You can just leave me outside a hospital. You know I won't tell anyone it was you. I just..." She looks at her arm. "I don't want to die," she says eventually. "Please, don't make me die."
"I don't know," I say. "I need to..." I don't complete the sentence. I don't know what I need to do, but it's important that I devise some kind of plan soon. When the sun comes up, I'll have to get out of here, and I'll be forced to make a decision about Donna. Leaving her here isn't an option, and I can't exactly take her with me. Also, there's the question of where I'm going to go. Callerton is my home. "Wait here," I say eventually, turning and walking away.
Once I'm far enough away, I sit on the forest floor. What's wrong with me? If I want to kill Donna, I should just do it. Sure, a human would struggle to do something like this, but I'm not human. It's as if I'm filled with my father's need for blood, but also my mother's humanity. Of course, I don't really know what my parents were like at all. Patrick killed Sophie, so I'm pretty sure my darker side comes from him. But I know so little about Sophie, and there's a danger that I'll start to think she was perfect. I'm sure she had plenty of faults. I should have spent more time with Shelley, asking her what my mother was like. Now I'm stuck out here on my own, trying to work out who I really am. Looking at my hands, I try to imagine what it would be like to rip Donna apart: the thought simultaneously excites and horrifies me. I can't be like both Patrick and Sophie at the same time. I have to choose one side or the other.
