Scarlet Rain (The Escaped #2)

by Kristin Cast

  “Why don’t we just take both of them with us and sort it out once we get back to my place?” Bridget asked.

  “Do you want to have to carry an extra twenty pounds for no reason?”

  “Right.” Bridget tore through the cracked packing tape and opened the cardboard flaps. “Any of these the book you’re looking for?”

  Eva peered into the box and dug through the unorganized piles of paperbacks. “Nope. All of them are just regular, everyday books.” She scooted over to the second box and used her free hand to peel off the tape.

  “Well what’s the difference between your book and a regular book?”

  “This,” Eva whispered as she uncovered the pile. Cracked leather bound the oversized pages of each of the four books nestled in the box.

  “Whoa. That looks like some serious reading.”

  “Yeah, and I didn’t realize there was more than one. Let’s put that box back in the closet, and get this one to your car before my mom comes home.”

  “I can’t believe this actually worked out,” Bridget grunted as she hefted the box on top of the others. “This whole thing has been way more intense and exciting than when I used to hide bottles of vodka in your room.”

  “We’re not in the clear yet.” Eva handed Bridget her phone, and lifted the bulky box. “Wait, you used to hide liquor in my room? What if my mom had found it and I got in trouble?”

  Bridget closed the door behind them and led the way down the hall. “She’d never have believed they were yours anyway. You barely drink even now.”

  Safely at the bottom of the stairs, Bridget switched off the flashlight and tucked her phone into her pocket. “You want to take that out back while I set the alarm and lock up, or—”

  “Shh!” Eva interrupted. “Do you hear that?”

  Murmurs wafted in from the front of the house as Lori’s silhouette closed in on the front door.

  “Shit!” Bridget squeaked and ducked behind the banister. “What do we do?”

  “Crap!” Eva gasped. “You can see straight through to the backyard from the front door. There’s no way I can make it over the fence before she gets inside. I have to hide.”

  Bridget poked her head out from behind the swirly wooden railing. “You have to hide? What about me?”

  “You need to do what you do best and create a distraction. Think of it as a lesson in acting. Get enough practice in, and maybe you’ll be playing yourself in my memoir’s movie adaptation.”

  Bridget stood, her eyes widening. “Oh my god. What a great point!” She dug in her pocket, pulled out a jangly clump of keys, and dropped them on top of the box. “I’ll meet you at the car as soon as I’m finished winning this Oscar.”

  The deadbolt clicked, and Eva hurried into the kitchen. The pantry door hung open, and she pushed the box into the small space before squeezing in behind it. She tried closing the door, but the toes of her tennis shoes stuck out about an inch too far. She shuffled as far away from the sliver of moonlight spilling in from the open door as possible and prayed Bridget’s acting skills were up to par. The front door creaked open, and Eva held her breath and waited.

  “Bridget, what are you doing here?” Lori’s voice filled Eva with longing and regret.

  “I am so sorry that I broke in, Ms. K. I hope you can forgive me. I just—I wanted to be closer to my best friend, since she’s not here. I—I’m worried about her.” Bridget’s voice cracked, and she let out a haggard sigh. “And I want her to come home. I thought if I came here, it would make me feel better. But I also didn’t want to bother you. I know you’re going through so much right now.”

  “Oh, Bridget. You’re no bother at all. And I understand how you feel. Sometimes I sit up in her room. I picture her coming home, sitting next to me, telling me about her day, the boring classes she’s in, and all of this fades away like some kind of horrible nightmare.” Lori’s voice drifted away into a long pause. “But there’s no reason for you to be sorry. You’re welcome here anytime. Like you always have been.”

  Eva wept silently in the closet.

  “Thanks, Ms. K. That means a lot.”

  “Now, why don’t we go into the kitchen? I’ll make us some nice chamomile tea, and we can talk about what else has been going on in your world. It will be good for both of us,” Lori said.

  Eva went rigid, and half-conceived excuses tumbled through her head as she raced to choose one before Lori found her hiding place.

  “Actually, I’d like it a lot better if we just stayed in the living room.” Panic momentarily increased Bridget’s volume, and she chuckled nervously. “I mean, the kitchen is great and all, but it doesn’t have a couch, and couches are comfortable. Don’t you think?”

  “Then I’ll just get the water going and come back in here. You don’t take honey in your tea, do you?”

  “Oh no, oh no, oh no.” Eva squeezed her eyes shut and tried to tuck herself deeper into the pantry. “Come on, Bridget. Hurry up and stop her.”

  “I uh—I uh—I—” A loud thud rattled through the house’s first floor.

  “Oh God! Bridget!”

  Eva opened her eyes, and waited a few moments before slipping out of the pantry. Quietly, she tiptoed passed the refrigerator and leaned into the opening to the living room. Bridget lay sprawled out on the wood floor, Lori gently caressing her blonde curls. “I owe you, Bridge,” Eva breathed before pulling herself away from the doorway. She darted back to the pantry and lifted the box and maneuvered to the backdoor. She wanted desperately to run to her mother, bury her head in her shoulder, and tell her everything that had happened. Instead, she silently opened the door and left only a whisper. “Bye Mom. I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

  Sixteen

  James was ready to outrun whatever creature they might encounter beyond the safety of the exam room. He took a deep breath and prepared his legs to quickly carry him to the exit.

  “Wait!”

  James stopped centimeters short of pulling the chair away from the door.

  “I said to turn right, but I meant left. Turn left.”

  “To the left at the end of the hall.”

  The nurse nodded confidently.

  “To the left at the end of the hall,” James repeated, so his body would move on autopilot. “Easy enough.” He gripped the chair and readied himself for the mad dash to freedom.

  “Before we go out there, I should tell you that I’m not a fighter. No, that’s a lie. I’ve been in a few fights, but I’ve never actually won, or fought back, really.”

  “Look,” James said, glancing down at the nurse’s nametag. “Patrick.”

  “It’s PJ, actually.”

  “Okay, PJ. Don’t worry. There’s not going to be any fighting. We’re going to go down the hall and exit the building like you said. We are going to run, though. You think you can handle that?”

  “Yes. I have short legs, but I’m very fast.”

  James didn’t give PJ another chance to stall him. Instead, he jerked the chair away from the door and grabbed the handle. He cracked open the door and surveyed the immediate vicinity. “All clear.” He shuffled into the corridor and motioned for PJ to follow.

  Together, they turned left and bolted to the end of the hall.

  “Now where?” James flattened his back against the wall and waited for PJ to further direct him.

  “Now we go right.” PJ peered around the corner and froze. “Holy cow. You really killed her,” he whispered.

  James stepped around PJ and looked down the hall. The slender doctor sat slumped against the exit door like a forgotten doll.

  “Yeah, I guess I really did,” James muttered somberly.

  “I don’t see anyone else. Can we make a run for it?” PJ asked.

  James readied himself and his weapon for action. “Let’s go. I got your back.”

  PJ took off around the corner, but came to an abrupt stop a few feet in front of the doctor.

  “What are you doing?” James pressed his back against PJ�
�s, and maintained a sweeping visual survey of the hallway.

  The muscles in PJ’s back tightened. “I—I don’t think your gun is what killed her.”

  James glanced at the body, and immediately understood PJ’s trepidation. “It’s fine. Go around her. Everything’s fine.”

  “But it’s not. Her—her face. It’s gone.”

  James shoved his gun in its holster and turned PJ around to face him. “Keep an eye on the hall. If you see anything, let me know immediately.”

  PJ swallowed hard and nodded stiffly. “Okay.”

  James hurried to the doctor and forced his hands to grip her ankles. A slick red streak followed her head as it slid down the door and onto the floor. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face as he shuffled hesitantly backward. It was the same as Tyson’s. The same as the girl’s and the EMT’s. With a matching dislocated jaw, and the same pattern of torn-out flesh unfurling from where her mouth was supposed to be.

  “They are all connected.”

  “What?” PJ called.

  “Let’s go. And don’t look at the body.”

  James let his legs carry him down the stairs as he compared all of the victims. Minus the bullet wounds, the damage to their bodies was almost identical. The swarm he and Alek had run into in the stairwell was exactly like what he’d seen on the surveillance tape. And, assuming each of them had been taken over by the red cloud creature, it would explain why he and Schilling hadn’t seen any obvious signs that there was someone else in Tyson’s house at the time of his and his wife’s deaths. “This is insane, but all of it’s connected. I need to get to Eva.”

  “All of what’s connected?” PJ panted as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “Nothing. It’s not important.” He followed PJ out the door and into the narrow alley behind the hospital. “Thanks for helping me get out of there. I really appreciate it, but I’ve got to get back to the station. I’m sure it’s a mess with all of this going on.”

  PJ put his hands on his thighs and sucked in air. “And what am I supposed to do?”

  “Go home. And keep quiet about what happened in there. Just give it time. It’ll all blow over.”

  “Hold up.” PJ righted himself and planted his hands on his hips. “You want me to go back to my apartment and, what, pretend like none of this went down? Were we even in the same place? This isn’t one of those take-some-time-off-and-it’ll-get-better situations. This is clearly the beginning of something huge. We need to call Max Brooks or someone. The zombie apocalypse is upon us.”

  “PJ, those were not zombies. There is no apocalypse. You can go home. Everything is going to be fine,” James said, unsure whether or not he was lying.

  PJ frowned. “I’ll trust you, but you are not getting rid of me. No way. No how. I’m small and weak, the perfect target. My best chance of survival is sticking with you.”

  “Fine. I really don’t have time to argue with you right now, but you’re on your own as soon as we get to the station.”

  “Deal.”

  James shook PJ’s extended hand before turning and looking up at the hospital. “C’mon Alek. I don’t trust you, but it looks like I might need you.”

  Seventeen

  The three frenzied men bucked and strained against Alek as he drove them down the hall. He let out a final, roaring grunt and tossed the snarling creatures backward. They slammed against a closed door at the end of the hall, and it splintered in half. Slivers of wood sprayed into the air and grazed Alek’s skin as he raced into the room after them.

  All three were on their feet, seemingly unaware of and unaffected by the brutal collision. One charged Alek, his arms flailing, spittle flying from his mouth. The immortal jumped to the side, grabbing the doctor’s lab coat as he passed. Alek used the man’s speed to propel him through the doorway and out into the hall.

  He turned to the other two and gritted his teeth. “Who’s next?” They rushed him simultaneously, and Alek unleashed his boxing skills. Combating the men wasn’t difficult for the warrior. If all evil fought like these two, the Mortal Realm would have nothing to fear. No, striking them wasn’t the hard part. However, achieving the desired result seemed more and more impossible. Alek fired a punch at the taller of the two for the fifth or sixth time in a row. He’d lost count by now. The whites of the man’s eyes were red from broken capillaries, and chunks of flesh blew off his face with each increasingly violent strike. But he continued to push forward.

  The other man was at his back, tearing at his shirt and howling like a wild beast. Alek bent his knees, reached over his shoulder for the doctor’s arm, and flung him over his back to the ground. Air hissed out of his lungs as he smacked against the floor. With his grip still firmly around the man’s wrist, Alek stomped on his shoulder and used both of his hands to twist the doctor’s arm. Bones popped and tore through the flesh, but the man still hungrily clawed the air, trying to get to the immortal.

  “I will finish you,” Alek seethed. He picked up a shard of the broken door and drove it through the man’s eye until it came to a sudden stop against the back of his skull. Finally, he went limp, but only for a moment. His body flopped vigorously on the tile. Blood splashed up from the steadily increasing puddle around his head.

  “Red mist.” For a moment, panic sprouted in his chest. He knew the flying creature would chase him, and he couldn’t risk using a huge portion of his energy to run. Until he made contact with the Oracle, he had to stay in the Mortal Realm, and he wouldn’t let this trip end like the last.

  A suffocating gurgle echoed up from the floor, and the remaining man uttered a piercing screech and cowered in the corner, as if he knew what happened next. The swarm sprayed tissue and blood as it rushed from the corpse’s mouth like water from a fountain. Alek grabbed the only other soul in the room and pushed him into the pulsing cloud. It split and went around the body, rocketing straight toward Alek. The noise it emitted was unlike anything he’d heard before. Its steady purr was not only audible—he also felt its constant thrumming like an itch under his skin.

  We see you. The oily words slipped into his ears. There is no escape.

  Alek stiffened. “Try if you must, but I will defeat you.”

  Humans. Always constructing promises you cannot keep. The scarlet specks rippled to a stop inches away from Alek. Why do you not fear us, mortal?

  A smirk cracked Alek’s lips. “I am no mortal. Try me. You will fail.”

  Lies, the swarm shrieked, and rushed its prey.

  Smiling grimly, Alek did not struggle as they flooded his mouth and clouded his lungs.

  Eighteen

  The tips of Eva’s fingers throbbed from digging into the sides of the cardboard box all the way back to Bridget’s car. At her house, the books hadn’t seemed so heavy, but four blocks later her arms were burning, and her brisk stride had morphed into a steady shuffle. “I hope the next power I get is the ability to fly. Or super strength. I’d be good with that too.”

  Finally at the car, she dropped the box onto the pavement and collapsed against the popped trunk. The trunk light bathed the four hefty, worn books in a yellow glow as they stared up at Eva from the pinstriped lining.

  “Now, which of you is the one filled with those scary stories? I guess I should say facts. Which of you is filled with scary facts?” She stared up at the starless sky and flipped through her childhood memories. Being a young girl, sneaking around her grandmother’s house, looking for treasures while Yiayiá worked in the kitchen. The books had been stacked on top of her grandmother’s bookshelf. There were tons of colorful tchotchkes she could have easily played with, but the books seemed to whisper promises of adventure. They had found her more than she had found them. She’d push a chair up against the shelves, and brush her fingers along each cracked spine before choosing one to explore. Through the books she learned about Alastor and so many other creatures she believed existed only in nightmares.

  Alastor.

  The thought guided her toward memories sh
e wasn’t yet ready to face. The fetid stench of his breath, the slurps and pops as he’d torn the flesh from his form, his strong hand around her throat.

  “Enough!” she shouted into the dark. “I don’t have to think about that anymore.” She took a deep breath and yanked down the sleeve of her jacket to cover the garish tattoo he’d branded her with. “They were in the same book, Alastor and the picture. They had to have been. It was the only one I took from the shelf.” The covers stared up at her. Each had a different design branded into the flaking leather. She remembered the weight of the book as it lay open in her lap, and how she would trace the delicate pattern on the cover, admiring the beautiful simplicity of the design. “It’s this one.” She picked up the book and did what she’d done as a girl, and let her fingers wander the image. The slender handle of the inverted torch stretched down the center of the cover, flames licking its bottom edge.

  Footsteps pounded the street behind her, and Eva clutched the book against her chest, ready to flee.

  “It’s just me,” Bridget puffed. “Lord, why do people run?” She put her hands on her knees. “I hope you found what you were looking for, because that was not fun, and I broke my nail all the way down to the skin. It’s bleeding and everything.” She held her finger up for Eva to inspect.

  “I definitely found what I need. Maybe now we’ll get some answers.” Eva piled the three remaining hardbacks in the box and closed the trunk.

  “Aren’t you going to at least try to heal my finger?”

  “Bridget, we’ve been over this. I don’t have any new abilities yet.”

  “But this wouldn’t be a new ability, just an extension of one you already have.”

  “Fine. Let me see your finger.” Bridget placed her injured digit on Eva’s palm, and Eva wrapped her fingers around the bleeding mess. She stared at her fist, focusing on channeling her power through her hand and into Bridget’s. “Is it working?”

  “No, it just hurts because you’re squeezing my bloody stump.”