13 Bites Volume II (13 Bites Anthology Series Book 2)

by Adam Bennett

  “All right,” I say.

  She turns on her heel and hurries off into the school. I glance over my shoulder to try see what had spooked her so badly, but I don’t see anything back there except another group of students.

  I don’t even try to pay attention in class. All day I keep a lookout for Amber or the red eyes, but I see neither. I keep thinking about the payment; can I really pass this curse on to someone else? Can I doom someone else to death?

  My aunt corners me as soon as I get home, trying to talk to me about therapy and how I need to talk about things. She keeps saying how talking about things will help them get better. If she only knew.

  I dodge the conversation and head up to my room. I pace for a while and finally decide that I shouldn’t try to make tonight’s deal running on such little sleep. I set my phone’s alarm and lie down on my bed.

  I don’t even remember my head hitting the pillow before the alarm starts sounding to wake me up. I look at the clock and see that it’s 7:30. I go to the bathroom and wash my face to try to wake myself up the rest of the way; then I sneak down the stairs. I go out the back door to avoid getting questioned by my uncle, who is watching TV in the living room.

  The drive to the bayou is uneventful. I make it there first; I get out and sit on the hood of my car. It really is pretty down here, almost peaceful. The Spanish moss blows in the night breeze and the bayou is alive with sounds of frogs and other wildlife. I take a deep breath and try to prepare myself.

  My phone dings and pulls me out of my thoughts. I check the message.

  “Nolan, I found someone to bring tonight. We are on the way there. I know that you are worried about passing this on to someone else… this person deserves it, though.”

  I start to reply to the message when I get another text from her.

  “Don’t reply to me. He doesn’t like when I talk to other people and doesn’t know I snuck into the bathroom to send you these messages. See you soon.”

  My heart skips a couple of beats as realization washes over me, I know who she is bringing. I think back to school, where I always see her with Bradley, the tall football player that had been staring at me with the red eyes after she talked to me in the hallway. I had never noticed before, but he was always with her except for the few times that she had talked to me. She had acted so paranoid… she was worried about him seeing her talking to me. How did I miss that?

  I see headlights coming up the road and the large truck they belong to turns into the small parking lot of the bayou. Bradley parks in the furthest spot from my car.

  They have the windows down. I can hear him hollering and I can hear her crying all the way from where I am across the parking lot.

  What now? My hands close into fists. I don’t know what to do.

  I hear the passenger door slam.

  “Nolan!” she screams to the top of her lungs.

  I slide down the hood of my car onto my feet. I see her running towards me, her messy braid flying behind her as she runs. Her face is tear-streaked and red, and she’s wearing the same plaid shirt from earlier. That and her hightop Converse tennis shoes make her the most real and beautiful thing that I have ever seen in my life.

  I grab her up in my arms and she buries her head in my shoulder.

  I see Bradley get out of the truck and start walking towards us. His eyes are blood red and his expression is deadly.

  “What do we do now?” she whispers into my ear.

  I pull away just enough to look at her. Her visible fear takes me aback some, but I know what to do. I push her behind me and shield her the best that I can from the beast that is now stalking towards us with a murderous smirk on his face.

  “Stop!” I yell at him.

  “Oh… you’re feeling braver this time around, are you?” the same voice that had come out of my uncle says. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

  “We want to make a deal,” I say, trying to keep my courage.

  “A deal…? Interesting. What kind of deal could I possibly want to make with you two?”

  “You let us pass our families’ debts on to someone else.” I feel Amber shaking behind me. Her hands are on my waist and she is peeking over my shoulder at Bradley, who has stopped and cocked his head over to one side.

  “We want to pass on the debts to the person that you are in now.” I say.

  “Yes… I would accept that… but there is a problem.”

  “What problem?”

  “Well, there are two debts… and only one person that you are offering me.”

  I didn’t think about that. I hear Amber groan behind me, obviously she hadn’t thought of it either.

  “Then take someone else! Anyone that you want! Just pick someone who isn’t a good person, like Bradley here.”

  “ I think…” Bradley’s head keeps cocking from one side to another unnaturally, “that I can accept those terms.”

  “So you will leave us and our families alone from now on? It is that easy?” I feel like this has been almost too easy. There has to be a catch.

  “That is all. I can accept those terms. Leave now.”

  I grab Amber and guide her to my car. We both get in as fast as we can and I zoom off down the road. We drive around for a good hour before either of us says anything.

  “Do I need to take you home?” I ask her.

  “No, my parents think that I am at Sarah’s house tonight… I don’t really have anywhere to go.”

  I look over at her and smile.

  “Can you climb?”

  She looks over at me and laughs.

  I drive to my aunt and uncle’s house and park. I show her the vine trellis that runs right up next to my window. My aunt and uncle are already in bed, so I quietly go to my room and open the window for her. I help her through and she smiles up at me.

  We both sleep well that night. Somehow I sneak her out of the house and get her home before anyone becomes wise to her presence in the house that night.

  Over the next few weeks I find that my life improves greatly. Amber’s presence in my life seems to make me more approachable; the decent sleep and my getting a haircut seems to help as well. I try to make a point to talk to my aunt and uncle; they seem to relax and realize that I am trying. They couldn’t be more thrilled when Amber comes over for dinner.

  My newfound happiness, however, is short lived. I had an easier time ignoring what we had done before they found Bradley’s body in the bayou. The news says that it was an animal attack and that everyone should be careful going down near the bayou until they find the animal that killed him. Amber reaches down and takes my hand as the news talks about his death.

  The following week, one of the teachers at the school is found murdered in his home. A full-blown police investigation into who could have killed him uncovers the fact that he was into girls at the school who were far under the legal age of consent. They show the paramedics removing a body bag from his house.

  Life continues moving forward, but we spend most of our time looking over our shoulders. The deal with the rougarou was too easy. Nothing comes for us, though, and soon graduation is upon us and we prepare to start college. Amber never leaves my side, nor I hers. We are both accepted into LSU.

  The summer has passed by too quickly, and we start classes next week. As we move into our apartment near the campus, I catch her watching me and smiling. Being here with her, we are two survivors, yet in a way we are two murderers as well. I walk out of our new apartment to the moving van to get the last box. I look over at some of the other students moving into the complex; a couple of them smile and wave. I wave back at them.

  I grab the box with no issues; it’s one of the smallest ones that we’ve had so far. I set it down outside the back of the van to close the back door. When I turn around I see the group has moved inside their apartment — all except for one. A girl with dark brown hair stands still, watching me from a distance… with blood red eyes.

  J. A. Clark was born in Wisco
nsin and grew up in a village with a population of 225. (That’s two hundred, not two thousand.) Through the years, he grew to love sports and eventually found a passion for writing. After three years in the U.S. Army and becoming a Veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom, he took his talents to the world of freelancing. Now he has added ‘author’ to his resume.

  He currently lives in Atlanta, Georgia and his favorite sports team is the Tampa Bay Lightning.

  www.facebook.com/JAClarkauthor

  THE MAGIC SHOW

  J. A. Clark

  It was a cold, late October night. A tall, pale-skinned man walked into a New York City lounge that was right near Times Square. He was wearing an expensive black suit with a red silk tie and matching pocket square in the left breast pocket. His dirty blonde hair was styled in the messy look that was currently popular; it looked like he had used half a bottle of gel. He took a minute to scope out the bar, but murder was the only thing on his mind.

  His eyes finally fixated on a young woman with black, shoulder length hair. It hung straight back and not a single strand was out of place. She was wearing a short black dress that was cut low in the front, complimenting her pale skin beautifully. She, he decided, was his target. He walked over and leaned on the bar next to her.

  “Tequila Surprise, barkeep. Heavy on the surprise.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The man gave a quick glance at the woman. “This seat taken?”

  She looked at him briefly and faced forward again.

  “Tequila Surprise, extra Surprise.” The barkeep laid a napkin down on the bar and set the drink on top. He reached for a small plastic sword and placed an olive across the top of the glass, then added a straw. “Can I get anything else for you, sir?” He wiped his hands on his hand towel and fixed the bowtie on his black and white servers’ uniform.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” The man sat down on the barstool next to the young lady. He pulled the olive off and set it on the side of the napkin. He took a drink. “I never get tired of these.” He swished the drink in his hand briefly.

  “Look, whatever it is you’re looking for — and I know what it is you’re looking for — you will not find it from me.” Her voice made it clear that she wasn’t interested in going home with him.

  “That accent… is it Russian?”

  “I am Serbian.”

  “It’s beautiful. Much like you.” He raised his glass to her and took another drink. “What are you drinking?”

  She didn’t even look at him. “It is a Cosmo,” she said with her thick accent.

  “It’s getting seriously low.” The man waved at the bartender and pointed to her drink.

  The bartender mixed up another Cosmopolitan and set it down in front of the lady.

  “This just means you are out another ten dollars.”

  “You’ve got me wrong,” the man started. “I’m not here for sex. Only company. That’s all.”

  “So what? That means you are married, then? Go back home to your wife. All you men are cheating bastards.”

  “Ahhh, I see now. Cheating husband?” His slick hair matched his personality.

  “Not husband. Fiancé. I come home and find him in bed... with my sister! I could kill him if I could get away with it!”

  “I see. So the actions of one man account for the actions of all men, is that right? I take offense to this entire conversation.”

  “Good! Men are disgusting.” She took a drink of the Cosmopolitan he had ordered for her.

  “So what would you do if I said you could get away with it… with my help? Would you pull the trigger?”

  She looked at him for the first time since he had sat down. She was intrigued by the idea of seeing her fiancé lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Then the good angel on her shoulder made its own argument. She was conflicted. “You mean real murder? You’re insane.” She turned away once again, but inside she was hopeful he would continue.

  He was smiling both on the inside and outside. “Of course not… just... what if?” He was feeling good about her. He knew he had his target and his thirst for murder would soon be quenched. Just a few more smooth lines and she’d be all his. “If he really was dead, would you be upset?”

  She imagined it in her head all day. Her fiancé’s death. She took some time imagining it again. “He deserves no less.”

  “Maybe I can help you with your wishes.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  He motioned for the bartender again. “Rusty Nail.” He looked back at the woman. He could see the hate she had for her fiancé in her eyes. “What’s your name?” The bartender came back with his drink. He dropped a fifty dollar bill on the bar.

  “Jovana.” Her voice was cold.

  “Well, Jovana... the pleasure was all mine.” He slammed back his Rusty Nail and put the empty glass back on the bar. The ice rattled around when it hit. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card. He took a moment to write something on the back and handed it to her.

  Jovana looked it over. “Daniel Down, Magic Extraordinaire.” She looked up from the card, but he was already gone. She looked around the room, but there was no trace of him. She tucked the card away in her purse and reached for Daniel’s Tequila Surprise. She took a sip. “This is good.”

  When she got back to her hotel, it was nearly midnight. She pulled out Daniel’s card again. She flipped it over and saw the writing on the back. It was his cell number. Next to it was the number 217. She picked up the room’s phone and began to dial the number. When she got to the sixth digit, she hung up. “What am I doing?” she said to herself.

  She laid the card down on the nightstand and turned on the television. She flipped through the channels until she found something she liked. Then she opened the drawer where she had put away her clothes and found the silk nightgown she had packed when she left her house. The thought of having left her own apartment made her angry all over again and the thought of a dead fiancé became more appealing to her.

  She went into the bathroom and started a shower in an attempt to calm down. It was exactly what she needed to help her relax, and when she was done, she slipped into her nightgown and into her bed.

  As she lay there dozing off, she suddenly heard the sound of sirens approaching. Her eyes flew open as a pair of police cars flew by. Their red and blue lights were flashing into her room from the window. She noticed the TV was still on and the clock read 2:17 AM. She reached for the remote, not associating the time with the extra numbers on the back of Daniel’s card, but before she could turn off the TV, she caught a glimpse of a comedian using magic as part of his act. She reached for Daniel’s card again and looked at the back. “217.” She looked at the clock again. “2:17.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to chalk it up to mere coincidence. She picked up the phone and began to dial again. It rang twice before there was an answer.

  “Hello,” Daniel answered.

  “Hello. Is this Daniel?”

  “2:17,” Daniel said.

  “How did you know?” Jovana was suspicious, to put it mildly.

  “It’s magic,” Daniel said in a suave voice.

  “Don’t give me that ‘It’s magic’ garbage.”

  “A good magician doesn’t reveal his secrets.”

  “You are impossible! I don’t know why I even called you!” Jovana started to hang up the phone.

  “I know why.”

  She heard him say it just in time to stop herself from putting the phone down.

  “Are you there?” Daniel asked.

  She became agitated. “Yes. I’m here.”

  “You want me to help you with your problem.”

  “That doesn’t take a genius.”

  “I have a show at the lounge on Friday night. You shouldn’t miss it. Bring anything you might have of your fiancé’s.”

  “What are you going to do?” She demanded an answer.

  “Relax. It’s just a magic show.”
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br />   When she hung up the phone, he knew she was in. She just didn’t know it yet. He put his phone down on the table in front of him and rose from his chair. He stared at it for a moment and began to laugh, just a little at first. The more time passed, the funnier he found it to be. His laughter became maniacal. He looked over at the props that he used for the show and approached one box in particular. He patted the box with his hand like he had just finished bargaining with his partner in crime. “There’s always a story. They always have stories.” He continued his maniacal laughing.

  ~~~~~

  Thursday night came around and Jovana was lying in bed again. Nights were the loneliest and most torturous times for her. There were things she could do during the day to take her mind off of the events that had happened, but as soon as the sun set, images of her ex-fiancé and her sister plagued her mind. No matter how far she tried to run, betrayal was always in her shadow.

  Friday morning came around and she was still bitter. Her lack of sleep from the previous night kept her in a vengeful state which was different from the sadness and crying she had become accustomed to. The first thing she did that morning was have the valet bring her car around. She jumped in and sped away, straight to her apartment building. Taking the elevator to the 46th floor, she entered the apartment and went into her room. The emotion and the horror of what she had seen flooded her mind. She went to the hook where her ex-fiancé kept his favorite hat. She crumpled it in her hands and threw it to the floor. She trampled it until her anger subsided. She took a deep breath and calmly picked the hat back up. Then, just as calmly, she walked out the door and drove back to her hotel.

  ~~~~~

  It was Friday evening and Daniel was preparing for his show. He watched as his crew bustled around the stage, making sure everything was ready for his performance. He hadn’t stopped grinning for three days. He was always excited when he was about ready to fulfill his lust for blood. One of the crewmen went over to the special box and began to move it. “Oh,” said Daniel, “I’ll take care of that one myself, thanks.”