by P. J. Day
“Go into the forest, now!” I yelled at Holly.
“I’m trying, but he’s heavy!” she yelled.
“Just go!” I said, as I tried lifting Ted with my right arm.
I looked to the right and Lucretius and Kai came running out from the forest up ahead.
“Where the hell were you guys?” I asked.
“We set up more explosives downriver, just in case the jeep kept going,” Lucretius said.
“Milton has been shot through the chest,” I said.
“Is he still breathing?” Lucretius asked.
“Yes, I think...”
I reared Milton’s torso upward. Lucretius examined his back. “The entry wound is to the left of his heart. His heart is untouched,” Lucretius said. “We need to get the silver out of his system. Alcohol usually does the trick.”
“My face is fucking peeling,” I said. “Let’s get into the forest.”
I put Milton on my back as he let out a grunt. Kai carried Ted by the shoulders. Holly turned around and flashed me a relieved smile.
“Are they still alive in there?” Lucretius asked, taking a small step toward the jeep.
“Leave them,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We crossed into the covering of trees. Holly walked ahead of us with a slight limp. Kai dragged Ted behind me, and Lucretius and I held Milton up by each of his arms.
“Ted, can you hear me?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he slurred.
“Can you try to walk?” I asked. I looked back and Ted couldn’t put pressure on his legs at all. “Put him on your shoulders, Kai,” I said. “We need to get out of here as quickly as possible. There might be patrols in the area.”
There were no trails or dirt paths hidden in the thick shrubbery. Just trees and plants as far as the eye can see. We had entered the heart of the forest and with no compasses nor the position of the sun visible through the canopy—we had no idea in what direction we were heading.
“Just stay parallel to the river,” Lucretius said. “We will eventually get to the edge of Guilin City.”
Ahead of us, Holly’s limp seemed to be getting more pronounced.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“My ankle, it hurts so bad,” she said, grabbing her foot and with tears pooling at the edge of her eyes.
“Sit down,” I said, as I rested a panting and wincing Milton down on the trunk of a tree.
“We need to keep moving,” Lucretius said, darting his eyes all around our immediate area.
“Wait,” I said, turning to Lucretius. I got on one knee and carefully took Holly’s sneaker off. As I peeled down her wet sock, I quickly noticed a bone protruding against the skin on her ankle. “Shit...” I said, wincing at the grotesqueness of her injury.
“Luc, you’re going to have to carry Milton by yourself. Her ankle is broken.”
“What?” Holly said, her eyes empty with shock.
As I leaned down to pick up Holly, a loud thwack reverberated next to me. A black, composite arrow vibrated on the tree trunk, right above Milton’s head.
“It can’t be,” I said out loud.
Collectively, we turned our heads toward the deep, dark woodland behind us.
“Where did that come from?” asked Lucretius.
Another thud was heard next to Ted’s foot. An arrow hit a large white rock on the forest floor that Kai had put Ted’s leg on.
“Everyone spread out, now!” yelled Lucretius.
I didn’t want to leave Holly by herself, so I grabbed her arm, while holding Milton up by his chest, and helped her limp as quickly as she could toward an opening in the forest ahead.
Lucretius and Kai slipped into the dense thicket behind me.
Holly’s whimpers and my heavy breathing were magnified by my adrenaline, as I didn’t know if a streaking arrow was going to penetrate my skin at any moment.
A large waterfall became visible up ahead. There seemed to be a small indentation behind the foaming cascade. I curled my arms and carried Milton and Holly in my arms through a series of large stones and straight through the falling water. Hundreds of gallons of water poured onto my back. My upper shoulders felt like they were getting pounded by weighted sandbags. I put Milton down. The water in the pool reached his neck. “Try to stay sitting up; you can drown. Do you hear me?” I pleaded. Milton nodded his head.
Holly placed her back against the alcove behind the waterfall. “Was that Havens?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, as I peeked through the falling water.
At first, I couldn’t find anyone else in the forest. I saw Lucretius running toward the waterfall. “Luc!” I yelled, as I came out through the waterfall, motioning at him to join us.
Lucretius tripped over a large stone. As soon as he began getting up and placing his right knee on the ground, a broad-shouldered man emerged from the dim, green wilderness behind him. Lucretius got on his back and put his right hand up in defense.
“Tingzhi,” said the deep, masculine voice.
We came out from the waterfall. Havens Ling stood a few meters away from Lucretius, who was still down. Half his face and body were covered in large blisters. He had his crossbow pointed at Lucretius’ chest.
Lucretius slowly got up with both his hands in the air.
“Bùyào pāi,” he said.
“You are monsters,” declared Havens, in a slow, deliberate, accented bass.
“Havens, please,” Lucretius pleaded calmly. “Put down your weapon. Can’t you see you are being used?”
“You killed our ancestors,” Havens said, ignoring Lucretius’ reasoning.
“You are right; our feud goes way back. It’s tribalism at its worst. But both of our kind are disappearing. We must work together to make sure humans don’t wipe us out,” said Lucretius.
Havens stared at Lucretius with a confused look. His eyes shifted their focus to me and Holly, who was standing in the pool in front of the waterfall, most likely strategizing who he’d shoot first.
“Havens, you must listen. I know our origins. I have studied our origins for centuries now. I finally have the answers. I know what makes us tick. I know why the world is the way it is now. I know why vampires exist, I know why you exist. I know where we came from.”
Lucretius’ words caught me by surprise. What was Havens if he wasn’t human?
“Let me explain,” he said, turning around and giving me a quick glance.
Lucretius kept his hands up and slowly began approaching Havens. Havens tilted his head, confused as to what Lucretius was doing and saying.
“Havens, put down your crossbow,” said Lucretius. “I will tell you where you came from. The world will no longer confuse you.”
“Lucretius, don’t!” I yelled through the crashing water on the rocks.
Havens slowly took a step back and began to lightly shake his head.
“Lucretius! Back away,” I said, loudly. “He’s not understanding you.”
Lucretius held his arm out. His hand reached for Havens’ crossbow. Havens took another step back; however, this time, one of his feet jammed straight into a rock on the ground. Lucretius flinched and reached down for Havens as he attempted to catch his fall. Havens panicked and pulled the trigger of his crossbow, striking Lucretius squarely in the middle of the chest, dropping the old man to his knees. I rushed through the pool of the water, kicking my knees high into the air, treading the water as fast as I could to catch Lucretius before he hit the ground. Havens, who was in a panic, readied another arrow on his bow.
A primal scream came screeching from my left. Kai witnessed Lucretius get shot in the chest and charged at Havens with his sword in both hands. Kai swung at Havens’ chest and Havens blocked the strike with the handle of his crossbow. Kai pushed down on his sword, hoping to break Havens’ grip on his crossbow. Havens pushed Kai to the ground with his massive hand. Havens cocked back the bowstring and pointed the arrow at Kai as he lay on the ground. As I held Lucretius up with my left ar
m, I took out my dagger and threw it at Havens, striking him in the neck. Kai, seeing Havens’ sudden vulnerability, sprang up from the ground like a gymnast and ran Havens through with his sword. Kai pushed the sword further into Havens’ body with more force. He stared into his eyes with his arms quivering, his teeth grinding, and the veins in his neck throbbing. Blood began pouring through Havens’ pursed lips. His knees hit the ground. He grabbed at Kai’s sword, cutting the palms of his hands in the process, and the blood streamed down his thick, massive forearms. Kai placed his right boot on Havens’ chest and pushed him. Havens’ body slid unceremoniously off the blade of Kai’s sword, hitting the ground, his knees still bent behind his thighs. Kai stood up and pointed the blade of his sword toward Havens, readying for one final blow.
“Stop!” I said.
Kai looked at me, blood splattered all over his youthful face, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
I looked into Lucretius’ faltering eyes.
“What is he?” I asked.
Lucretius gave me half a smile as his eyes began slowly moving toward the back of his head.
“You’re going to stay alive, you old man.”
Lucretius slowly shook his head.
“You know too much...”
His breathy voice barely escaping his throat, he said, “You must... go to Siberia, Jack.”
“What are you talking about, Luc? Snap out of it,” I said, as I shook his limp body. The gash in the middle of his chest began to ooze furiously with blood.
“Denisova, Jack. Keep the clan alive,” he said.
“Why were you trying to talk to Havens?” I asked.
Lucretius’ throat became more hoarse, his breaths more labored.
“Luc, why is Havens after vampires?”
“Neander...”
“What?”
Lucretius’ eyes quit moving. His body tensed up and in an instant, his dying breath exhaled into the forest breeze. The eyes of a man who’d seen more of Earth’s history than anyone who ever walked the planet ceased to exist in my arms. His mouth stayed open, revealing a beautiful set of fangs, a noble set of fangs. Kai fell to his knees and caressed Lucretius’ head. He looked at me and stared at me like a lost child. The Jiang-Shi were no more, or at least the way it was composed, with history and a purpose at its core, in the form of an ancient supernatural creature named Lucretius.
Chapter Sixteen
A week had passed.
Ted, Holly and I were set up in a room at the Dushi 118 Inn in Lanshan. It wasn’t luxurious by any means. If China had a lodging chain styled after Motel 6, the Dushi 118 would have been its equivalent, but without the Gideon’s Bible in the nightstand drawer next to the bed. The suite we had, luckily, had dual rooms. Milton knew the owner of the Dushi 118, and had asked for us to stay there until he managed to get us back to the States.
Ted was watching television in the other room. Holly was on her belly, reading a Chinese tabloid on the bed behind me, wearing a long men’s dress shirt and white socks, her legs crossed in the air. I brushed my fangs in the bathroom and stared at the mirror in front of me. I stared and I stared. Nothing. All I saw was Holly get up from the bed and come into the bathroom. She threw her arms out into the empty space in front of the sink. I felt her warm arms wrap around me. She hugged the air. I felt her wet lips against my cheek. A plain peck, nothing more. I turned around and put my hands around her waist. I stared deeply into her glowing eyes. They were clean. No dirt, grime, or panic. She was back in her element. Comfortable. Itching to get back home. To her, I was Jack King again.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?” I asked.
“For being so shallow.”
“You’re not shallow, just human,” I said, as I moved a blond curl away from her brow.
Her moist lips slowly pressed against my open and readied mouth. I dug my fingertips into her waist and pulled her in. She grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in even further, no room for a breath, or oxygen. Pure breathlessness.
“Thank you,” I said, with a glorious grin.
“I’ve always liked you, Jack,” she said. “Even when I wanted to leave, I just didn’t know...”
I pressed my finger against her lips. “It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.”
A knock tapped on the entry door of the suite.
I heard Ted get up from the squeaky recliner in the other room and open the door.
“Jack?” he yelled.
“Yeah, who is it?” I asked, holding Holly in my arms.
“It’s Samuel...”
I looked at Holly and said, “You owe me big time.”
She smiled and laughed coquettishly, “I know...”
I jogged into the main room and there stood Samuel at the door, a slender, gray-haired man who always exhibited a set jaw, a furrowed brow, and strong eye contact, no matter what the occasion. He held out his stiff hand for a shake. I ran up to him and gave him a hug.
“Thank you for getting here so quickly,” I said, with my chin over his shoulder.
Samuel walked into the room with a briefcase in hand. I scoped out the area outside the room before closing the door.
I led him outside onto the balcony, where we could have some privacy. I pointed to a table and chairs, and scanned the surrounding balconies as Samuel, my confidant and the reason I was writing these memoirs, sat. We were alone, as far as I could tell. Good enough.
Samuel set his briefcase on the table and scrolled a few numbers on his combination-lock briefcase before opening it. He pulled out a recorder and few pieces of paper.
“How was your flight?” I asked.
“Well, it wasn’t too bad since I flew in from Moscow. I was covering the protests over Putin’s reelection, if that is what you want to call it,” Samuel said, with his trademark dry humor.
“I have so much to tell you, I don’t even know where to start,” I said, burdened with anticipation.
“Listen, first things first. We need to get you back into the U.S. I have the Dean of Sciences at Carnegie Mellon waiting to meet you. He has humongous influence over the National Science Foundation and, therefore, can get some trusted legislators to possibly understand your condition and hopefully accept that vampires exist and create some kind of awareness. There are so many people who want an audience with you, Jack. Your life, I am certain, will never be the same again. You do understand that.”
I sat at the table, just nodding my head at Samuel. I understood. I understood all too well.
“But we need your full cooperation, Jack. We need to know everything. What makes you tick and why you deserve rights and the continual access to blood and all that...” Samuel explained, at his usual rapid pace. “I’m making arrangements now to get you back into the states, where we will be met by a delegate from...”
“Great,” I said. “Hey Samuel, can you hold on a sec?”
“Sure, Jack. Anything you want.”
I stood, stared down at my dear friend, and made the decision I knew I had to make. I slid open the balcony door, slipped through, and closed it behind me.
“C’mon,” I said, taking Holly’s hand. “We’re going. All of us.”
“Samuel too?” asked Ted.
“No, not Samuel.”
“We’re going to leave him?” asked Holly.
“Samuel can take care of himself.”
“But where are we going?” asked Holly, grabbing her purse as Ted collected his jacket and cell phone.
I glanced toward the balcony, where Samuel was scanning papers, a too-eager smile planted on his face. I looked back at my friends. “Back home,” I said. “Eventually.”
“What does that mean, eventually?” asked Holly, laughing.
“It means we’re taking the scenic route.”
“Scenic route?” asked Ted, blinking.
I grinned. “Have either of you ever traveled around the world?”
The End
Also available
The Sunse
t Prophecy
A novel by P.J. Day
(read on for a sample)
Prologue:
The Parable of Rebellion
“I’m afraid,” said Isaac.
The boy winced as he sat up in his hospital bed. With IV tubing latticing his tanned forearms, nine-year-old Isaac looked too athletic and healthy to be bedridden.
The profusion of medical equipment flickering bedside contrasted with a wall of pictures and handmade cards from his classmates and Little League teammates.
The Pasadena Reds missed their shortstop.
“Talk to me,” said the young man wearing a black hoodie, jeans and distinctive green Puma Roma Slims. This was his third visit with Isaac, and he sat in a visitor’s chair upholstered in an ugly 80s pastel Santa Fe print. The hospital and its staff were state of the art, but the furniture, not so much.
Isaac appeared comfortable around the man. His tranquil face and soothing caramel colored eyes felt unthreatening despite being shadowed by a pulled-over hood.
“I’m afraid of things going dark, of hurting,” Isaac said. “My leg hurts, but I’m afraid of it hurting even more.”
The man glanced down at the boy’s leg. Through sheets, through skin and muscle, down to the cellular level, he saw small black clumps of cells feeding off the boy’s bone marrow. He perceived the pangs of dull pain throbbing throughout the boy’s leg; the cancer had metastasized throughout Isaac’s femur.
