Breathless

by Heather C. Hudak

  “I remembered your grandma saying once that these were your favorite snack when you went to the movies together,” he said proudly. For the first time, he had proved to me that he could, indeed, give Chaseyn a solid battle for my affections if only we had met a few months earlier.

  “That’s very sweet,” I managed to say between bites.

  Evidently, my body was more deprived of nourishment than I had originally thought. I lifted another cheese-drenched triangle to my mouth as the others in our group began to pile in around me. Eli had stepped away again, and this time, he returned with the prized corndog I had been craving since we first stepped foot inside the park a few hours earlier. I practically pounced on the wax-paper-wrapped package Eli was lowering to the table in front of me.

  “And, for the piece de resistance,” he said in a mediocre, though still impressive, French accent after placing a super-sized fountain pop beside the corndog. “Cotton candy for dessert.”

  For that, I decided he deserved a hug. He had gone to a great deal of trouble to show me a good time—from memorizing my favorite childhood treats to behaving like a true gentleman—and I knew the least I could do in return was lead his friends to believe we were carrying on more than an innocent friendship. I added spark to the flame by planting a big kiss on his cheek when he sat down next to me. He looked at me appreciatively, but then took the liberty of wrapping his arm around my shoulder while we ate. He took advantage of the fact that I would keep my displeasure at the action under wraps while we were surrounded by his friends. I took comfort in the fact that I would have the entire drive home to lecture him about his inappropriate behavior.

  This time, it was Darcy to layout a challenge as we devoured our last bites of food.

  “So, who’s ready to ride the Tilt-A-Whirl?”

  As if on cue, everyone jumped up from the table and began commuting to the nearby attraction. Knowing my limits, I encouraged Eli to join his friends and leave me in peace to digest my meal.

  “Come on,” he coaxed. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Seriously, Eli, there is no way I will make it through that ride without the contents of my stomach spewing out in front of us,” I replied. “You go ahead.”

  “I’ll stay here,” a weak voice whispered from across the table. “I’m pretty sure my body will thank me for it later, too.”

  I looked up to see Frost sliding into position on the bench across from me, a wide smile forming across her pale face. In the overcast light, I could see that she was actually breathtakingly beautiful—by far, the most stunning female in our gathering. However, due to her untraditional attire and introverted nature, she was likely overlooked for the fair-haired Barbies who conformed to the latest fashion trends and flaunted their assets in front of the males. Still, Frost had a familiarity that made me feel completely comfortable in her presence.

  “I’ll be fine,” I told Eli, sincerely content to be left alone with Frost. Had it been any other of the girls in the group, I would have been considerably more reluctant.

  Eli stared warily as I, quite literally, pushed at his toned bicep, guiding him in the direction the others—who were now out of sight—had trudged just moments earlier.

  “You should go have fun. I’ll wait for you at the log chute. By the time you get there, my stomach should be settled.”

  Frost and I sat in awkward silence for a few minutes after Eli left, but before long we were chatting like old friends. After about 15 minutes of idle banter about our favorite classes, Anna and Amanda’s infatuation with everything Eli, and our mutual concern for the reduction of waste, we again sat silent. When Frost suggested we take our chances manoeuvring through the funhouse labyrinth, I practically jumped at the opportunity to escape what was becoming an embarrassingly awkward situation.

  “Sounds like fun,” I said eagerly, hopping up from the bench we had been occupying since lunchtime.

  “This way,” she said, waving me toward her.

  Frost was safely inside the enormous building before I had even managed to swing my leg over the bench and into a standing position. In an effort to make up for lost time, I quickly skipped toward the comic facade and ran swiftly through the rolling barrel entrance to the staggered steps that shook back and forth as I climbed. Once I had navigated my way past the devices aimed at making me lose my balance and rattling my nerves, I was immersed in a sea of blue and grey. After a few moments pondering my whereabouts, I realized an exact clone of myself was staring back at me—I was in a hall of mirrors.

  “Frost? Are you in here,” my voice echoed through the disturbingly silent space.

  What seemed like thousands of mirrors lined the dimly lit room. Variations of myself—only taller, shorter, wider, and narrower—crowded the room. Frantically, I searched around every corner looking for an exit, or at least something other than another Lia look-alike. A feeling of defeat washed over me, and I slumped against one of the rigid structures surrounding me and slid to the ground below. I sat there and sullenly pondered my fate—that the entire group would forget about my mere existence and leave me alone in the park. I imagined what it would be like to be trapped inside this chamber of doom overnight when a sudden high-pitched ringing jolted me back to consciousness.

  “Chaseyn,” I shouted in elation into the receiver as I flipped open the phone. “I’ve never been so happy to hear—”

  “Shhh,” he shouted in what sounded like annoyance. “Don’t say another word.”

  “What’s wrong,” I asked, practically hysterical. I had been upset prior to his call, and his harried tone only added to my anxiety.

  “I said don’t say another word. In fact, don’t move an inch or breathe a single breath.”

  My entire body began to tremble. Though I had no idea why Chaseyn was being so demanding and harsh, I found it utterly terrifying.

  “Quietly, Cordelia. I mean it, please be very quiet,” his tone was softer, gentler now as he pleaded with me, but I was holding back sobs. “Now, tell me, are you alone?”

  I waited a moment before answering, for two reasons. First, I wanted to catch my breath to be sure that not so much as a single, shallow whimper escaped my lips. Second, because I simply wasn’t sure if I was, in fact, alone.

  “I don’t know,” I said so quietly I could barely hear. Still, I knew his keen ears would catch every syllable. “I think so.”

  “This is very important, Cordelia,” Chaseyn said calmly. “I need to know when you last saw Frost.”

  Suddenly, it was all perfectly clear to me why she seemed so familiar. Piercing green eyes, practically translucent, flawless skin, hair nearly as black as a raven’s feathers—Frost was Chaseyn’s sister. In that moment—the exact moment of realization—a rush of cold air washed over me like a brisk breeze through an open window on an autumn night. I knew I was no longer alone.

  “She’s here,” I murmured into the phone. “I can feel her.”

  “You have to get out of there. She’s young, and her skills are less developed than mine, but you’ll still need to be very careful,” he explained so quickly that I barely caught a word of what he was saying.

  “The mirrors,” I started to say.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’ll see me no matter where I go.”

  “Cordelia, I don’t understand. What mirrors?”

  Carefully, I crawled on all fours along the floor, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of what I could only assume was one of Alexei’s soldiers of doom. Visions of the terror she planned to ensue flashed through my head, wreaking havoc with my imagination. As I rounded the corner, I noticed a thin layer of ice on one of the mirrors, about five feet up from the floor. It occurred to me in that instant how Frost got her name. Her breath. Like her body, it was icy cold. I also realized the game she was playing was going to be made more challenging by the fact that she did not cast a reflection.

  “Oh, no,” I said quietly to Chaseyn. “She’s not like you. She’s—“

  “A va
mpire,” a feminine voice answered from someplace nearby.

  “I’m almost there,” Chaseyn shouted into the phone. “You can do this, Cordelia. You can outwit her.”

  Clicking the speaker button on the cell phone so I could free my hands and still allow Chaseyn to hear my every action, I dropped the phone on the floor and rose up onto my feet. There was no point in being discreet when Frost was so obviously tuned in to my every move. Not to mention that she had the unfair advantage of watching my reflection.

  “I can’t see her, Chaseyn. She has no reflection, and she moves too fast,” I cried aloud in the direction of the place where the phone was now laying open on the floor. “I can’t do this.”

  A frosty sheen glazed the mirrors around the place where I stood, dissolving nearly as quickly as it appeared. I spun in a circle watching as one and then another and another were coated in a thin layer of ice, sparkling like diamonds on the shiny, reflective surface of each mirror.

  As my feet pushed forward, glass began to shatter all around me. Like dominoes, each row of mirrors tumbled to the ground, creating a jagged spew of glass. Shards flew through the air, piercing my skin as they punctured the fragile membrane. I tried to ignore the stinging pain as blood oozed from each tiny wound, but it was nearly impossible to ignore.

  “Stop, Frost. Please stop,” I begged, looking for a way out.

  By now, all but a handful of mirrors had been smashed in Frost’s attempt to gain my surrender, and I was wading through a knee-deep pool of shattered glass that tore strips from my jeans as I trudged along. Scanning the room through blurry eyes filled with watery tears, my heart skipped a beat when I finally located the neon exit sign only a few feet away.

  Realizing the room was silent, I took the opportunity to make an escape. Perhaps, Frost had tired of this perilous game and decided to forfeit, I thought as I scurried toward the sign. I consoled myself with the thought that she had likely heard Chaseyn say he was nearby. Surely, she would not want to challenge his wrath and masterful skill. Regardless of the reason for her sudden departure, I was going to use the time to find safety as quickly as possible.

  With the protective layer of denim torn away, my bare skin was exposed to the effects of the serrated glass edges as they ripped into my legs. Doing my best to ignore the unbearable pain, I stumbled, hands first, at the doorway, knowing imminent relief was only steps away. Feeling consciousness slip away, I worked hard to push myself back up, but as I applied weight to my hands, I felt an intense throbbing in my palms. A deafening scream exploded through the room, jolting me to life. Scanning the area for the sound, I realized it had come from my own mouth. Frost had reappeared, blocking my exit.

  The scream was the result of both the shock of seeing her there and the unbearable pain I felt as she thrust a thick, glass shank through my right hand, completely incapacitating me. As I lay there, staring up at her profoundly beautiful face, I could almost imagine Chaseyn standing there in her place—their resemblance startling now that I had made the connection.

  “Chaseyn,” I mouthed, the sound so faint, even I could barely hear. My mouth was dry, like the saliva that naturally flowed had been replaced by wads of fluffy cotton.

  “It’s just the two of us now, Cordelia,” she mocked. “You have no idea how long I have waited for this. Father will be so very pleased with me.”

  My eyes were heavy, and I struggled to keep them open. Sleep was not an option, I reminded myself. There would be no hope if I lost consciousness. Was there hope now, I wondered? As if in response to my silent question—or maybe I had said it aloud—Frost opened her mouth wide, revealing a pair of glistening fangs and the most startling difference between her and Chaseyn.

  This was it. The moment my grandma had warned me about. The one Chaseyn had vowed he would prevent. My brain swirled; I couldn’t think straight. The room was hazy and unfocused. Objects blended together, obscuring my vision. It was too much to absorb all at once.

  I closed my eyes and waited.

  Chapter 27 - Heroes

  “Lia? Where are you,” a masculine voice called frenetically, begging for a response. “Lia? Answer me, Lia. Come on.”

  The voice grew louder and louder, until it stopped entirely. Was I dead, I wondered? A loud din—a crunching, like the sound of feet trekking across hard-packed snow—filled the air around me. Again, the sound stopped, giving leverage to my panicked thoughts. Frost had taken my life and betrayed her father’s trust. She would get a greater rise out of cheating Chaseyn. Of this, I was certain.

  Suddenly, a calming warmth surrounded me, and I could feel myself floating above the ground. Is this how my soul would feel if it were leaving my human form? My entire body remained limp, motionless, and any effort to open my eyes was futile. This must be death.

  “Help,” a voice called. “Somebody, help. Please.”

  My body was jostling about, as if it were moving at a high speed, and I knew he had made it in time.

  “Chaseyn,” I murmured quietly, almost inaudible. He would hear. “I knew you would come. You promised.”

  He did not respond. The only explanation was that I was, in fact, dead. I tried again. Louder, but barely.

  “Lia, don’t move,” the voice replied. I didn’t notice at first that he didn’t use my given name. “Oh, please, be okay. Please.”

  Chaos was the only word to describe what happened next. Shrieks of terror and sobs of fear penetrated the buzz inside my head. As my body was lowered to the ground, I felt hands pounding at various wounds on my body. I moaned softly, hoping they would stop, but they persisted relentlessly. Soon, I realized—despite the haze clouding my thoughts—that they were trying to stop the bleeding. When I finally managed to open my eyes—albeit for a short time—I could see that the boys had removed their shirts to make compresses. Bits of cloth were tied strategically around several locations on my badly beaten body. I felt no pain, but I didn’t fight the feeling to close my eyes again. Before falling into a sleepless state, I called for him one last time.

  “No, Lia. He’s not here. I’m sure he’ll come when he hears what happened,” Eli whispered, patting the sticky hair back from my bloodied forehead. At some point, I must have fallen face first into the glass. He tried to sound soothing and calm, but I could hear the anxiety boiling beneath. “It’s okay. Help is on its way.”

  Sirens sounded, and I heard voices telling the crowd that had gathered around me to disperse. Pushing through the hoards, the paramedics kneeled at my side, urging me to stay awake.

  “What happened here,” one of them asked feverishly. “Is there anyone else inside?”

  Before anyone could answer, a loud engine roared in the distance. Within seconds, I could feel him, his cool aura cut through the air, bringing with it a sense of calm and relief.

  “She was alone,” Chaseyn said to the paramedic. “I was on the phone with her when the attraction started to crumble. She was terrified. I tried to talk her through, but it was too late.”

  Everything would be all right. Chaseyn would see to it.

  “I can handle it from here, Eli. Thank you for getting her out of there,” he said sincerely.

  I fell into a deep slumber.

  When I woke, I felt surprisingly well. My grandma, who had clearly held a vigil at my side, was jumping up and down with excitement.

  “She’s opening her eyes,” she shouted. “Quick.”

  “Hold still,” I begged. “You’re making my head hurt.”

  “I’m guessing it’s the sixteen stitches above your left temple that are actually making your head hurt,” Chaseyn said wryly as he bent down to kiss my forehead. “It’s about time you came round. We’ve been hanging around this place forever.”

  “Ouch,” I said, feeling the gauze wrapped around my head with my free hand—the one that wasn’t bound to an intravenous cable. “Harumph.”

  “Most of the wounds are superficial. They look a lot worse than they actually are. There’s just the one,” Chaseyn’s
voice trailed off, and he looked at Eli and Hank sitting in the corner. I felt the bandage fastened securely to my neck and instantly understood his discretion.

  “But you had a terrible fever. It gave us an awful fright,” my grandma added, and I realized she knew the meaning of the two small marks on my neck.

  “Oh,” I said enthusiastically, genuinely happy that I hadn’t received any life-threatening injuries but wary of her remarks. “What happened? I can barely remember anything.”

  For the most part, it was a lie. I had a pretty good idea, right up to the end, but I figured I should know the alibi. People would be asking about my injuries, and I better know what to say.