by ID Johnson
I continued to stare at her for a really long time before she finally pushed off of the counter and stood up. She’d skipped a lot, and I had a million questions, but at least I knew what had happened to Drew now, a question that had been burning in my mind for over half a year.
“Aaron and I are going to go ahead and head over to the chapel,” she said as I followed her back into her room to get my shoes. “Dad knows how to get there, so you guys can walk over in a little while.”
“Okay,” I replied, watching her slide on her shoes and then rush over to the dresser faster than she would’ve if I didn’t know what she was and stick in some earrings. She grabbed a gold necklace off of the dresser and slipped that on, too.
“If you need anything… I’m not sure what’s in the fridge.”
“I don’t think I could eat if I wanted to,” I replied, following her out into the living room where my parents were sitting on the sofa enjoying what appeared to be ham and cheese on rye. I guess we all have our own responses to grief.
“Don’t you both look beautiful,” my mom said, standing and hugging Cadence and then me.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said. “I’m heading out. See you guys there.” She smiled at us all sympathetically, and I hoped that she would make it through the service without messing up her makeup. I wondered if Hannah could or would help my sister. I wondered if she would use her emotional manipulation to make me feel better. I knew I needed to grieve, but right about now, I could use a shortcut.
I took a seat on the sofa near my dad, and my mom asked if I wanted her to fix me a sandwich before she sat back down, but I just shook my head. I wondered how many times Elliott had sat here on this sofa and watched TV with my sister. Probably a lot. They had been good friends. My dad was telling a story about tripping and hitting his head on the raised brick around the fireplace when he was little, but I wasn’t really listening.
Then a thought struck me. “Dad, how long have you known Aaron?”
He looked from me to my mom, who was back in a chair eating her sandwich, and then back again. “Well, my whole life,” he replied with a shrug. “I mean… I didn’t know him well because he was just a work associate of my parents’, but I knew who he was. He was pretty important to the operation back then, as he is now.”
It seemed so strange to me. My sister was dating someone my dad had known when he was a little kid. So bizarre.
“Actually,” my dad continued, and I could tell by my mom’s expression that she was bracing herself, thinking my dad’s strange stories might be confusing to my young mind. “When I cut my forehead open on that brick fireplace,” he pointed across the room, “it was Jamie who came and sewed me up.” He laughed, probably at the oddness of the whole situation. “I can remember being really scared it was going to hurt, but it didn’t. He did something to keep it from hurting at all, or even scarring.”
As much as I enjoyed my dad’s stories, I was also more than a little perturbed. “I can’t believe you guys kept all of this from me.” I tried to keep my voice calm. “It seems like you’ve known about it your whole life, Dad.”
“I did, honey, but that was different. I lived here. I had to know. There was no reason to confuse you with all this craziness, all the secrets, when it wasn’t going to affect you for years.”
“We were going to wait until you were seventeen and then tell both of you at the same time,” my mom explained. “That’s what my parents did.”
I looked at my mother for a moment, trying to see through her skull into her mind. “What’s that?” I asked.
“You know, I was never brave enough to take on any of this, like your sister is, but my parents waited until all of us were old enough and then told us. None of us wanted to take it all on. In fact, no one from my side of the family has Transformed for… ages. By the time my parents told me, I’d already met your father, so he’d been keeping the secret from me.”
I looked at my dad and he shrugged. I wanted to point out to my mother I had no idea this “situation” came from both sides of my family; here I thought it was only my dad’s tree that had some very crooked branches. But then, I remembered being told Lucy and Emma would find out about this eventually, so by the time I actually asked it, my question was different than the one I’d originally intended to blurt out. “Can just anyone become a Vampire Hunter then?”
“What’s that?” my mom asked.
“It seems like everyone in the world can find out about this secret life eventually. Is that the case?”
“Oh, no, honey. You have to be born with the ability to Transform in your DNA. Only people with a certain genetic code can become a Hunter or a Guardian. When we get back home, you can go up and talk to Grandma, and she’ll explain it all to you.” My mom nodded her head like that was the end of it.
“Why isn’t Grandma here?” I asked. “She knew Elliott.”
My dad let out a sigh, like he was the most exhausted person in the world. “I think she’s just tired of burying people, honey. She’ll be watching the live feed, though.”
“Live feed?” I asked. Was Elliott some sort of a dignitary?
“Hannah thought it would be best to do it that way, rather than have people leave their stations to come in,” Mom explained.
That made sense, I supposed, though I had no idea people all over the world were going to potentially see me crying like a little baby in a few minutes. Maybe if I let myself think about that, I’d be less inclined to lose it again, though I thought there wasn’t going to be much to prevent the waterworks.
My dad glanced at his watch and then looked at my mom. “Think we should head out?” he asked quietly.
“You know how long it takes to walk over there,” Mom responded unhelpfully. She stood and took the dirty plates into the kitchen.
Being the smart man that he is, my father has learned when is a good time to ignore my mother’s comments and when is a good time to respond. “I think we should go,” he shouted, as she came back into the room. He pulled himself up off of Cadence’s plush sofa, offering my mom his hand. As they headed toward the door, I took a deep breath and followed along.
“How do you lock it?” Mom asked, looking at the knob.
“Her IAC will lock it automatically when we leave I’m sure,” I mumbled, and my mom looked at me like she was surprised I knew anything at all. Seemed like common sense to me.
There were buttons on the elevator, at least, so we were able to navigate even without “eye computers.” I tried to think about what it would be like to have one of those on our way downstairs so I could try not to concentrate on the fact that we were headed to Elliott’s funeral.
The man who had brought our luggage up was in the lobby when we got there. He gave us each a sympathetic smile, and I wondered if he knew Elliott. I bet he did. He shouldn’t have to work. He should be allowed to go to the memorial. But then, maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe like Grandma he’d had enough death.
The sun was shining and a few birds were chirping, and I couldn’t help but think it all seemed wrong to me. The weather should match my mood—dark and gloomy—like in the movies. But then, Elliott wouldn’t want that. I needed to remember that the last thing he would have asked for was all of us moping around like a bunch of sad Eeyores. I breathed the fresh air into my lungs and kept one foot moving in front of the other, hopeful that I could find a way to put my head down and get through this without breaking again.
Chapter 3
The chapel was a quaint little building set off to one end of the complex, a bit of a walk but not too far. There were flowers everywhere on the outside in shades of pink and purple, yellow and white. A weeping willow on either side of a winding path seemed inviting, and the building itself reminded me of a cottage out of a fairy tale. It was nice.
“Your grandmother designed this building,” Dad whispered as we followed other people up the cobblestone sidewalk. “After Grandpa died, she decided it would be nice to have a little place to remember t
hose who gave everything for the cause.”
The way my dad said that reminded me of the type of phrases people say on Veteran’s Day, or maybe if they were fighting against the Empire. I thought, in a way, this was a sort of a war. I hadn’t really considered it that way before.
Next to the door was a little placard that read, “Jordan L. Findley Memorial Chapel.” I thought that was sweet but wished I’d had any idea my grandpa was such an important person.
Breathing was growing more difficult as we stepped inside and a man I hadn’t met yet with red hair handed us a funeral program. I took it but didn’t look at it, not right away. Seeing Elliott’s name on there would make things too real for me. I was trying to pretend this was a dream.
The stage had a few flowers and a large picture of Elliott, the ridiculous one he’d shown me from his CDC badge. I almost laughed, and I thought that was probably the point. Elliott definitely wouldn’t want us to be sad, I knew that. Still, giggling seemed inappropriate. When my eyes shifted across the stage a bit and I saw the urn, all sense of merriment was swept away.
I saw my sister and Aaron at the front. She turned and waved at us, but she didn’t come over, and I couldn’t blame her. It seemed like a lot of people wanted her attention right now. My dad found us seats in the back third on the side behind Cadence, who I figured would be sitting on the front row once she took her seat, since she was speaking, and I concentrated on air in, air out.
We hadn’t been sitting long when Jamie came over and shook our hands. He had changed at some point, too, and looked very nice in a three piece suit. The doctor exchanged greetings with my parents and they remarked about how lovely everything was, and then he looked me in the eye and asked, “Are you okay, Cassidy?”
I appreciated the asking and managed to nod. He seemed like a genuinely caring person, and in the back of my mind, I thought about my plan to try to infiltrate him—I mean form a friendship with him.
“Well, if you need anything, let one of us know.” He smiled at me again, that genuinely empathetic smile people give you when they also feel bad but think you might feel worse than they do. I thought it was odd so many people had been looking at me that way, especially since they’d all known Elliott so much longer than I had, but maybe they just thought it would be especially hard for me because I’m just a kid. Looking around, it seemed like I was probably the youngest one there.
I did see Hannah, running around the front by the stage like a frantic person. And then I saw Christian come over and talk to her and head off toward the back. I wondered if she was having technical problems or something. They seemed to be getting it straightened out.
Meagan was there, too, and I assumed the guy she was with was Shane because he did look a little bit like Channing Tatum with Arnold Schwarzenegger’s body, as Elliott had described him to me. I didn’t see Eliza anywhere and was happy she was absent. I may learn to forgive Aaron for what he did to my sister, but I wasn’t sure there was anything Eliza could ever do to earn my trust again.
We hadn’t been sitting for too long when I saw Hannah nod toward the back of the church, and then she took a seat near my sister on the front row. A quiet fell over the crowd of about two hundred people, and then the unexpected sound of a heavy lead guitar and then the unmistakable clank of a cowbell filled the air, and we all exchanged surprised glances as we realized what we were listening to. My dad started chuckling first, and before long, we were all laughing. “Don’t Fear the Reaper” seemed like the perfect song for a memorial for Dr. Elliott Sanderson.
The reverend took the stage and said a few words, including some personal anecdotes from people who had worked with Elliott. Most of the stories were really funny, and we laughed even more.
When he finished, my sister took the podium and talked about Elliott, telling a few stories, mostly reminding us all of how he was such a genuine person. I thought she was going to break down a few times, but she made it through and resumed her seat next to Aaron.
A slideshow of pictures of Elliott over the years really grabbed my attention. While a lot of the photos were of him just acting goofy with his friends, there were a few of him actually battling against Vampires, some even with my sister. Seeing her up there in full-out combat mode was fascinating to me. I realized as I was watching them that the pictures had been taken through the different team members’ IACs and that meant I could probably actually go back and see what had happened to Elliott, if I wanted to, not that I did. Or Drew, for that matter. Everything my sister had been off covertly doing in the last eight-or-so months was all filmed.
I was still thinking about that when a picture of Elliott, Cadence, and I from Christmas came across the screen. He was wearing the Santa hat she’d stuck on his head and looked so happy with his arms around both of us. Even though potentially thousands of people were now seeing me in my reindeer jammies, I didn’t even care. I wanted that moment back. Tears began to sting my eyes, and I did my best to fight them away as the photographs continued to tick by, flickering through a long life cut too short.
Aaron was next, and I felt like it took him a little longer than I expected to actually start speaking. He definitely looked like he was having a hard time, which I bet wasn’t easy for him. He seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t really cry much in front of other people. He shared a couple of great stories about Elliott and lots of accolades. When he finished, the preacher took the stage again. He made a few closing remarks, and we all bowed our heads to say a prayer. I was thankful this was almost over, but I knew the long process of putting our lives back together with such a gaping hole in the middle was just beginning.
When I opened my eyes, I noticed that Cadence was gone. I wondered if it had gotten to be too much, and she’d headed to the restroom to have a good cry. I looked at my mom who also seemed bewildered. “Where’s your sister?” she asked, alarm in her voice.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Maybe we should go look for her.”
Aaron was headed our direction. I could tell that was his intent by the way he kept looking at me, even though every other step he took, someone stopped him to say something, so I did something rather odd and got out of my seat and walked over to him. The older woman who had cut him off about three rows away from us wouldn’t stop talking, so he put his hand on my shoulder to let me know he was doing his best to address the fact that I was concerned about my sister. As soon as he touched me, I felt oddly grounded. I knew he wasn’t manipulating my emotions, the way that Hannah had done, or my thoughts the way that Elliott could. It was almost like his presence just declared everything was under control.
Eventually, he had to break in, “Can you excuse me just a second, Viola?” he said, smiling, and the older woman excused herself and said she’d talk to him later. His blue eyes fell on my face, and looking into them, I felt calmness sweep over me. “Sorry,” he said, putting is other hand on my other shoulder. “Cadence is fine. She just saw someone she needed to talk to who was leaving a little early.”
“Oh,” I said, glad to hear she hadn’t run off to the bathroom, though his response was also not what I’d been expecting.
“I’m going to go find her, and we’ll be back in a little while, unless you need something.”
“No, I’m fine,” I assured him, thinking it odd that he would care so much about how I was doing to consider altering his plans.
“Great. Listen, I know you have a lot of questions, and we’ll do our best to answer them all as soon as we can, but I want you to know that we’re excited about having you as a part of our team, Cass. Elliott knew there was something special about you, and I see it, too. It’s just going to take a little time, okay?”
Despite the fact that we were standing in the aisle of a chapel at a funeral, I couldn’t help but smile. “Okay,” I said. He patted my shoulder and headed off to find my sister, I assumed, and I let his words sink in a little bit. While the skeptical part of my brain wanted to suppose that was some sort of a recruiting sp
eech he gave to every new person who came along, the rest of me wanted to believe it. Everyone kept telling me how special my sister was—how good she was at her job. Was there a possibility I would also be particularly good at killing Vampires? We had the same genes, after all, didn’t we?
My mother approached, looking down the aisle toward where Aaron had disappeared. “Did he tell you where Cadence went?”
“Yeah, he said she needed to talk to someone. She’s fine.”
“Okay,” Mom nodded, and then a few of my sister’s friends came over, and Hannah wrapped her arms around me. I instantly felt a shift in my demeanor as complacency and joy intermingled. I didn’t feel overwhelmingly happy, but I didn’t feel devastated anymore. I wondered if she’d meant to do that or if she just couldn’t control it.
Most of the people had already left the chapel and were headed toward another building where there would be a luncheon with all of Elliott’s favorite foods. I’d eaten very little since yesterday when I found out Elliott was gone, which honestly seemed like a million years ago now, and I was glad I’d have an excuse to shove tacos and cheeseburgers down my throat. That’s what he would’ve wanted anyhow, right?
The men broke off into one group, my dad, Jamie, Christian, and Shane, leaving me with Mom, Hannah, Meagan, and another woman whom I’d learned was Aurora. She was tall and muscular, like an Amazonian or something, with long red hair, and I instantly liked her. I could tell why she was one of my sister’s best friends. A couple about the age of my parents was also still sitting nearby, and I discovered that these were Meagan’s parents. Apparently, they’d been very worried about her since she’d been injured and knew this would be hard for her because Elliott had died protecting her. She would be a great person to ask questions of if there was any chance I could get her alone. My sleuthiness was shocking even to me, but I had already decided that focusing on gathering information was a great distraction from my despair, so I tried not to be too hard on myself for being so hardcore.
