by A C Warneke
An image of the shoes flashed in her head, but the last time she had seen them was in their old house, the small quad-plex she shared with her father. No, that couldn’t be right; she hadn’t lived with her dad for nearly seven years and she wouldn’t have had that type of shoes back then; Toby hadn’t even been born yet. With a frown, she handed Toby a pair of shoes, “How about you put these on and we’ll make a trip to the mall and get you a new pair?”
He nodded, taking the shoes and doing as she requested while she wondered once again if she was going crazy or if her memories got messed up somehow. Maybe it was very early onset dementia; that would suck beyond belief. But she was only twenty-five so it couldn’t be that. The alternate reality theory was starting to sound more and more plausible; except she remembered her life in this house. It just seemed… off.
It didn’t seem like she was forgetting anything, just… misremembering.
“Okay, mommy, I’m ready.”
Gathering her scattered brain cells, she smiled at Toby, holding out her hand for him. He readily slid his hand into hers and followed her back down the stairs. Grabbing the car keys and her purse off the side table, the two of them headed out to the car, not bothering to change into decent clothes.
She stopped when she saw her car sitting in the sun, all gleaming and shiny and new. And very expensive. She could have sworn that her car was a beat up, reliable old sedan but when she pressed the button on the keychain, the sleek, silver convertible chirped. Before she could protest, or think, Toby was climbing into the gorgeous car. “Are you coming?”
“Uh huh,” she managed dumbly, thinking that perhaps she should have dressed up. It seemed wrong to be wearing such scrubby clothes while driving such a beautiful car. Settling behind the wheel and running her hands over the buttery-leather interior, she could almost remember. Almost, but not quite. As beautiful as the car was – and it was beautiful – it didn’t really seem to fit her personality. It seemed more like… like…. Damn it, why couldn’t she remember? It was something important, someone important.
“Mom?” Toby asked, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice. “When are you going to start the car?”
She chuckled nervously. Again. Putting the keys into the ignition and turning over the engine, she listened as the car purred to life. “I don’t think I’ve ever driven such a nice car.”
“Mommy, we always take this car,” Toby reminded her. She looked over and saw the conviction of his words on his face.
“Of course,” she agreed, hoping to sound convincing when she didn’t feel so convinced herself. It was odd that she had memories of driving the car but the experience seemed so new. Maybe it was the opposite of deja vu. Jamais vu? Backing up, she looked around the familiar neighborhood; the oversized houses situated on oversized lawns, and wondered when she woke up in Wonderland. Giggling at the thought, she asked, “Do you feel like we’ve fallen down the rabbit hole?”
He simply looked at her with nearly six-year old exasperation, making her giggle harder. As she drove, she had to admit that it was a beautiful neighborhood; all of the yards were exceedingly well groomed, the houses very well maintained, the cars in the driveway all new and top of the line. And she felt completely out of place, a pigeon in a house of hawks.
And if that imagery didn’t just chill her to the core, she didn’t know what did.
All of her neighbors seemed to be outside and working in their yards, waving at her as she drove down the perfectly smooth streets. They were all smiling and all extremely beautiful and they seemed to avidly follow her with their eyes as she drove, turning in perfect time as she passed by. It was almost flawlessly synchronized and a whole lot creepy. But as disconcerting as that was, it wasn’t nearly as upsetting as realizing that there were no other children in the neighborhood. It was a warm and absolutely beautiful day but there were no children outside anywhere.
“Can we get cinnamon rolls at the store?” Toby asked.
A flash of… something hit her and she sucked in a breath; something about cinnamon rolls and Christmas music and…. She glanced at the purse; wasn’t that the purse she lost when… when… it was all wrong?
Toby reached out and turned the radio on, dragging her out of her thoughts. The radio station was playing the last bars of a familiar winter song when the deejay came on. “Wow, with only a few weeks left of winter, I have to say, have you seen such incredible weather? 80 degrees and sunshine sure does beat the three feet of snow dumped on the east coast last night. To remind us to count our blessings, here’s an old favorite.”
And the familiar strains of music filled the car and Mal automatically began singing along, Toby joining her at the chorus. “Da da dada da dum, da dada da dum."
As she sang, her worries and doubts just sort of faded away and she felt… good. The little bits of her day that had been odd weren’t so very important; it was a beautiful day, she was driving in a luxurious car with the top down, her son was with her and they were singing along to the radio; who could ask for anything more?
She pulled into the parking lot of the mall and found a parking spot up front. Smiling, she looked at the familiar mall; it wasn’t large but it had everything she wanted: a toy store, a book shop, a food court with a kiosk that sold those delicious cinnamon rolls, an anchor store that had everything else. Turning to Toby, she grinned, feeling really good, “Ready?”
“Yup,” he beamed at her, climbing out of the car.
The good mood lasted long enough to get her through finding a pair of shoes for Toby and half of her cinnamon roll. That’s when she felt cold eyes on her and an unnamed fear creeping over her. Looking around the surprisingly busy food court, she couldn’t help but notice how many people were staring at her, almost as if they hungered to get closer but reluctantly kept their distance. She knew that if she offered even the slightest encouragement, they would approach her in a heartbeat, eager to be a part of her inner sanctum.
And then there were the others who watched her but almost cowered away when she looked directly at them. They kept mainly to the shadows but she could see their plastic perfection, even from a not inconsequential distance. But the longer she stared at them, the more grotesque they became; emitting death and decay.
She wasn’t sure which group was more disturbing.
“Mommy,” Toby began in a hushed voice, leaning closer and lowering his voice even further. Tearing her gaze from the shadowy creatures, she bent her head closer to her son’s. His eyes were wide and scared in his head and she wanted to whisk him away and take him home where he would be safe…. “What’s wrong with those people?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, though she felt she should know; that once upon a time she did know. Gathering up her packages and the remains of their cinnamon rolls, she took Toby’s hand in hers and offered a reassuring smile, “Let’s go home, sweetheart. Those strawberries aren’t going to pick themselves.”
He nodded but the excitement simply wasn’t there and she knew that he was as uncomfortable as she was. Trying to prove to Toby that there was nothing to be afraid of, she deliberately walked closer to the shadows, dumbfounded when the mysterious people shied away from them. Before she went to bed that night, she was going to take Jay’s advice; not the part about taking a lover, the part about taking a hot bath. She just wanted to put the day behind her and get back to normal.
Chapter 12
Malorie’s arms were so tired and the swords felt so heavy; they were pulling her down, dragging her into the ground. The air was thick and acrid with smoke and the stench of metallic blood and burning flesh. She looked around at all of the destruction, the carnage, and she realized that she was fighting a losing battle. There were simply too many of them and for every one she killed, three more took its place.
“Come on, Mal!” Jack called out, a sword in each hand, a cross bow strapped to his back. Blood matted his blond hair to his head and she didn’t know if it was his blood or someone else’s. He w
as grinning from ear to ear, blood lust still coursing through his veins. “Get your ass moving, love!”
God, this had been her life for so many years and she was so tired of it, the constant struggle. If they weren’t fighting, they were training, if they weren’t training they were strategizing; there was never a reprieve. And after losing so many soldiers, they were always racing to regroup. Nothing ever changed, nothing ever would. She was born to be a Blade Soldier; she would probably die a Blade Soldier. And she was probably going to die sooner rather than later.
“Mal!” Jack yelled again, closer to her now. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet; she hadn’t even realized she had fallen. With his hand around her arm, she had no choice but to follow and when she stumbled he picked her up and kept her moving. And every time she wanted to rest, he encouraged her to keep going.
Jack’s course was erratic, evading any vamps that were still searching. They ran, running until she was sure she couldn’t run anymore and then running further and she was exhausted, physically exhausted, spiritually exhausted. It all seemed so futile – no matter how many vamps they killed, there were always more. She wanted to lay down her arms and go to sleep.
Finally, finally, the first rays of the sun were coming across the horizon; they had survived the horrible, bloody night. There would be no more fighting for a few hours, until sunset. Maybe never, Malorie was done. She couldn’t fight any longer.
She couldn’t go any further. It didn’t matter; there was no one else around to see her weakness. Just Jack. Collapsing onto the ground, she stared up at Jack, her best friend. Her only friend. “What’s the point, Jack? We lost so many tonight and if we go out again tomorrow night we’ll only lose more.”
“We have to fight, Mal,” he said, squatting down in front of her. He was brave and sometimes reckless but she loved him “So we can have a life when all of this is done.”
“This war will never be over,” she cried softly, defeated. Her whole life had been spent preparing for this war, never resting, always vigilant, finding the vampires and taking them out before they became too much of a menace. And when the vamps finally got the numbers and attacked en masse, she had been on the front line, a seasoned veteran at thirteen. After so many years of fighting, of always going to where the vampires massed together and waged war, she just wanted to rest. She knew that there were places that had never known the horror of vampire invasion; most of the world lived with such luxury; but she had never had such peace. The promise of a world without vampires had always gotten her through the darkest nights but not this night; this night, she was done.
“You heard what they said,” excitement laced Jack’s voice. She wanted to hit him but it would have taken too much effort. “They had to be careful otherwise they’d attract the notice of the lord ….”
“I don’t think God cares,” Malorie said, defeated even in spirit.
“Not God!” Jack cried out, trying to pull her to her feet and failing, so he decided to sit down next to her, a smile splitting his face in two. “Something else, something more powerful than them. If we can find him….”
“He would eat us for breakfast.” The idea had a morbid appeal to Malorie; if she were dead she wouldn’t have to fight anymore. A morose smile twisted her lips, “And then what?”
“I don’t know!” he laughed, giddy from the fighting, from something else.
“It doesn’t matter,” she told him sadly. “We’ll always have to fight.”
“It’s necessary to fight evil.”
“I know,” she sighed, looking up at him, hollow and lost. “I’m just tired; there just doesn’t seem to be any point to it anymore.”
“There is, Mal,” he murmured, his tone softer, tenderer. Reaching up, he brushed a strand of tangled hair from her face, letting his hand linger on the curve of her cheek. Her eyes met his and she saw… everything and her lips parted in understanding. He trailed his fingers to her mouth, touching the soft skin with his thumb. “I love you.”
“Jack,” she breathed.
“Come with me,” he said softly, standing up and bringing her to her feet. Holding her hand in his, he led her to a nearby stream, his eyes never leaving hers. The water sparkled in the morning light, untouched by the evil from the night before. It was so beautiful and so unexpected; it brought tears to her eyes.
Turning to Jack, she whispered, “How did you find this place?”
“I grew up near here,” he answered, carefully removing the weapons from her body. Knowing what was going to happen, needing it to happen, she let him. “My brother and I would come down to this stream and fish; we never caught anything.”
She watched the emotions play over his face, the pain of remembering happier times, the resolution to keep on keeping on. As he talked, he continued removing her clothes, pulling the t-shirt over her head. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her stomach and avoided his questing gaze. “Don’t hide from me.”
He took her hands in his and pulled them to the side before dropping down in front of her and kissing the long-healed scars. Looking up at her with bottomless brown eyes, his hands trembling as he took her clothes from her body, he whispered, “I love you, Mal.”
Carefully, reverently, he washed the blood and grime from her body, bringing her back to life with every drop of blood he removed. Jack was so tender, unlike her dream lover who was merciless. At night, alone in the dark, merciless was what she craved, but beneath the blue sky of early morn, tender was nice.
He bent his head and kissed her, tentative and sweet. Her eyes drifted shut and she lost herself in sensations too complex to understand as he laid her back on the grass, his mouth never leaving hers. She didn’t want to think anymore, she just wanted to feel and he was making her feel… alive.
His body was gone for only a moment before returning and his naked flesh pressed against hers. His fingers drifted over the curved of her breast, squeezing it, shaping it. Then he was between her legs, nudging the opening of her sex. “Malorie.”
His voice was darker, richer, different than it should have been but he was breathing heavily and she just wanted peace. He tore through her virginity and her fingers dug into the ground. The scent of wild flowers filled her senses and she turned her head to the side and squeezed an eye open to see the field of flowers that had sprung up around them.
The sight was unexpected and irrelevant to her at that moment. Letting her eyes drift shut, she fell back into the moment of having sex for the first time. He pushed into her, filling her. Moving in her, over her, he pressed kisses to her closed eyelids, her cheeks, her lips. “I love you, Malorie; I’ve always loved you.”
It was Jack’s voice. It was… someone else’s. It didn’t matter; she wasn’t thinking. Her body melted under the pleasure; she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders. Then he stiffened and it was over almost before it began.
The image shifted and she found herself with a distended abdomen. She placed her hands over her stomach and felt her baby move beneath her palm and smiled. Reveling in the power of creation, she realized what it was to be a female, to have the power of life and feel it grow inside her. For the first time in a long, long time, she was happy.
She was in a familiar, shabby room, a group of soldiers surrounding her as they hovered around the small, worn out table. She explained the plan, assigning soldiers to the various groups and giving them their orders. They were going to storm the vamp camp in the day, taking out as many bastards as possible while they were too weak to fight back.
The intelligence they were using came to them with a high price and she hoped that it had been worth it. Twelve Blade Soldiers had allowed themselves to be tagged and then captured by the enemy; eleven were killed instantly, one was converted. It had been a long shot but one that had ultimately paid off. Of course, the Blade Soldier’s camp had to establish a new base several miles away, knowing that the soldier would be compelled to retaliate. Malorie hated the plan when one o
f the other captains ordered it; she still hated it despite the fact that it worked: they knew where one of the secret vamp bases were.
Even though they would be attacking the no-longer-secret location during the daylight hours and the vamps were going to be weak, she knew that they would still fight. If the second half of the plan worked, the part that she devised, the Blade Soldiers would take out the entire nest. But it would be necessary for her teams to quietly plant the necessary bombs to bring down the structure, exposing the vile creatures to the light of day. They would fight the survivors in hand-to-hand combat afterwards.
Looking up, she caught Jack watching her, smiling at her; his pride in her was apparent in his expression. She smiled back and dismissed the rest of the soldiers. With a cocky grin, he pushed his way through the departing men, taking her in his arms as soon as he reached her. “It’s a good plan.”
“I hope it works.” She let him see her doubts because he had so much faith in her. And he proved his confidence in her by taking her into his arms and kissing her.
Setting her down, he put his hands on her stomach and grinned, “How’s our baby?”
“Good,” she grinned, unable to wipe the silly smile from her face at the thought of their child growing in her womb. It made her husband so horny; everything made him horny. And he was kissing her, removing her clothes, his clothes and she closed her eyes.
“I can’t get enough of you, Malorie,” he rasped, filling her as she sat on the edge of the table and he stood between her legs, the slight swell of her tummy between them.
This time, she felt the edges of… something. As his lips pressed against her neck, her ear, she wanted whatever it was that was so close. It was low in her belly, her womb and it was something… incredible. Her face twisting, she strained against him, feeling him deep in her body, her soul. Pleasure swamped her and she cried out.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” he rasped, his voice wrong.
