by Jill Nolan
"Good," is all Nic says.
Cody points Mason to one team and Nic to the other. "How good are you?" he asks me.
"I'm...decent," I say, not sure what qualifies as "good".
"That means you're terrible."
"No, I'm not terrible! I'm, like, average."
"Right." He doesn't sound convinced. "You're on that team," he motions to the team with Mason, Hanna, Luca, and Chugs.
We play a few games, with our team winning two out of three games. Cody is clearly the best player, being deceptively fast, and Mason is a close second. Not only are they athletic, but they're competitive, making a play on the ball even if it means diving. The rest of us were just okay compared to them. Except Ben; it turns out he is not very athletic. He wasn't terrible, but he sure wasn't good. It was fun to hear him complain and swear when he messed up, and funny to hear Hanna berate him for it.
I'm not paying much attention as we take a break, and I drink some water. That is, until I hear Allison telling Mason to look in my bag for sunscreen. It takes me another few seconds to realize that Mason is walking toward my bag, which contains sunscreen, yes, and also a stake...
I scramble up and jog to intercept him, but unless I want to yell across the park, he's too far ahead of me. I watch in panic as his hands rifle through my bag. As soon as I'm within talking distance, I say, "I can get that for you!"
He looks up at me and removes his hands from my bad...holding the stake. He looks at me quizzically. I cover the last of the distance between us and grab it from his hands, putting it back in the bag.
“Was that a stake?” he asks incredulously, almost laughing.
“I was shopping the other day and found that and thought why not?” I smile, feeling the heat rise to my face. I try not to let show that my heart is racing and that I really just want to crawl in a hole and die. Partially from embarrassment, but mostly from apprehension. The vampire told me not to tell anyone – and I haven’t – but I keep letting clues slip inadvertently. First, Tom tells Nic and who knows who else that I saw something and freaked out. Now, Mason will probably tell everyone that I carry around a stake, and someone is bound to put two and two together. And then it’ll get back to the vampire who will kill me.
Shit! How do I get him not to tell anyone?
“Why not buy a stake? Because that’s a totally normal thing to do," he says sarcastically.
“I’m a huge Buffy fan,” I say, not even lying.
“Angel or Spike?”
“Spike. You watched that show?”
“I may have seen a few episodes...only because my mom watched it.”
“You’re a closet Buffy fan, aren’t you?”
“No. Buffy's an idiot and so are most of her friends. I liked to root for the bad guys.”
“Okay, well I’m kind of a closet nerd. Is there any chance you won’t tell anyone that you found a stake in my bag? Or that I own a stake at all?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just looks at me as if this is a hard decision. I have no idea what I’m going to do if he says no.
“I’ll keep your secret. Just don’t go all Buffy on me.” I breathe a sigh of relief, though I still feel a nagging worry that he will tell someone, thinking it’s not a big deal, like Tom.
My gaze slides over our friends milling about, when my eyes lock with Cody's. He's staring at us but looks away just as I catch him. Did he see the stake when Mason pulled it out? I don't think so. There's no way he did. He's too far, and my body was probably blocking his view.
I turn back to Mason. “Unfortunately, I don’t have her super strength,” I say, meaning it.
“And what would you do with super strength?”
Be able to defend myself. “Play football.”
“You like football?”
“Not really. I just want to lay dudes out.”
He laughs, and I relax just a little at the sound. He has a good laugh. I hand him the sunscreen and watch as he somewhat awkwardly applies it, tilting his head back so that his hair stays out of his face. I wait until he’s done; I'm not leaving my bag unattended anymore. I probably just shouldn't bring a goddamn stake with me everywhere. I mean, do I really think I have the strength to, one, be fast enough to stab the vampire, and, two, have the strength and accuracy to shove this into his heart? A weapon's not much good if you can't use it. I had the folding knife in my pocket when he grabbed me during the day, and it didn't even cross my mind to use it.
Maybe he won't be an ass like Tom, and he'll keep this between us. If it gets out, I guess I’ll have to play it off again, pretend I have a stake as a prop because of how much I like Buffy. It'll be less of a fabrication than me hating bats. And if I can play it off well enough, maybe it won't matter that anyone knows. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll survive this summer.
Chapter 12
The following day, we go to the Zí for lunch with Tom while Nic and Luca are working. We end up hanging out for a while after we finish eating. Allison and Tom really seem to be hitting it off. All three of us are lounging on a couch with Allison in the middle. Nic and Luca stop by periodically when they're not busy, sitting on the couch next to ours. We've been ordering fresh juice and mixing in a bit of vodka from a flask we brought. They don't serve alcohol here, and, well, we wanted alcohol. Plus, Nic and Luca couldn't care less.
At some point, a guy comes over to our table. "Hey, Tom, what's up?"
I look to Tom, who seems to be trying to place him.
"Sam, right? What's going on?"
"Grabbing a smoothie," he says, holding his cup up. The guy looks to be in his early thirties with very tan skin and long, black hair. He looks Native American. He’s not bad-looking, but he has this beaten-down look, like he’s been using for a while or something. Who knows though, maybe he’s just out every night drinking or aging poorly. Or he could be older than I first assumed. He's got one of those faces where it's hard to tell.
"You mind if I sit for a bit?" Sam asks.
"Uh, no. Go for it." I can tell by Tom's hesitation that they're not good friends, which makes Sam inviting himself to sit a little weird.
"This is Allison and Keegan," Tom says, introducing us. "And this is Sam; he knows my dad from the casino."
"We both like blackjack," he says. Then he points to me. "Keegan..." He appears to be thinking about something, while I wait, unsure where he's going with this. "You were the one that freaked out at some party in the woods, right? Said you saw a monster?"
His words are a shock, and his smile is mocking. I feel a rush of anger at Tom, who must have told him. I knew he told Nic and assumed there were probably a few others, but did he tell everyone he frickin’ knows?
I lean over Allison. “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone,” I hiss to Tom, low enough so Sam can't hear.
He looks taken aback, and then he has the audacity to look innocent. “Relax, it’s not a big deal,” he tells me without monitoring his volume.
“It is to me," I snap.
“Alright, fine. I didn’t even tell this guy; my dad did.”
“You told your dad?” I ask, incredulous.
“Yeah, I thought he’d get a kick out of it.” I really wish he’d speak in a quieter voice so we could have a private conversation. One glance at Allison tells me I’m overreacting, at least according to her.
“I'm glad you got a kick out of it,” I say sharply. “Can you please not tell anyone else, and tell your dad not to either." I know I should play it cool, but I’m seething at his complete lack of consideration. Fucking asshole.
I ignore Allison's questioning look and turn back to Sam, “It's embarrassing. I was attacked by a bat; it got all stuck in my hair, and I freaked out.” It comes out clipped and monotone. I was trying to sound sheepish and embarrassed, but I failed at covering up my anger.
Sam doesn't reply; he just stares at me with this weird half-smile on his face.
I need to go home. Soon. I can't deal with these people right now. I wonder if Allison is ready to leave. I p
ick up my spiked juice, needing something to do, while willing Sam not to talk to me again. It doesn't work.
“You know, my people believe an encounter with a bat represents major life changes, sometimes involving death,” Sam says.
What the hell? Why would he say that? How is that so spot on? I try not to show any reaction to his words even though this guy is freaking me out. I mean, who is he? He can't be the vampire; I don't think the vampire had hair that long. That seems like something I'd notice.
“I just think they’re nothing more than flying rats,” Sam continues, letting out a grating laugh.
Allison laughs politely, and I force a shallow smile, before taking another drink.
“Who are your people?” Allison asks.
“The Winnebago.”
“Oh, cool. So, do you work at the casino?” she asks.
"No, I just gamble there."
"I'm going to the bathroom," I say, excusing myself.
"I have to go too," I hear Allison say.
As soon as we get into the two-stall bathroom, Allison turns me around so I'm facing her. "What is going on with you?" she demands.
"Tom wasn't supposed to tell anyone. You told him not to, didn't you?" At her nod, I continue, "Then why does it seem like he's telling everyone?"
"I don't know, and I'll talk to him, but that doesn't explain why you're acting like this."
"I'm embarrassed about that night, and all I asked was that it be kept quiet. I don't think that's too much to ask. And then he just tells everyone, apparently, because he thinks they'll get a kick out of it. He thinks it's funny, what happened. It’s not." By the time I finish my rant, tears are streaming down my face. I angrily wipe them away and try not to have a complete fucking breakdown. I shouldn't have drank all that vodka. I'm such a mess right now.
"Hey, it's okay." She gives me a hug, and I have to fight even harder not to start bawling. "Did something else happen that night?" she asks as she pulls away. She searches my face for the truth. She's not an idiot, and she knows me pretty well. "You know you can tell me anything."
"Look, something did happen," I say slowly, wondering if I'm making a mistake in even admitting that much. "But I can't talk about it. Please, please, can we leave it at that? And can you not talk about this to anyone?"
"Of course I wouldn't tell anyone. Did someone attack you?"
"No, no it wasn't like that." Not exactly, anyway.
"Okay. I'm here if you ever want to talk. You know that, right?" I nod. "Want to go home?"
"Yeah."
"I'll just go kick Tom's ass first."
I giggle a little, despite myself. "Thanks. You're the best."
Chapter 13
I fill myself up a cup of water, sipping as I think about what I should do tonight with the cabin to myself. Allison went to Tom’s, her first sleepover with him. It's a Thursday night, which is kind of random, but she said his dad won’t be home for the night and even suggested that Tom invite Allison over. That seems weird to me, but maybe that’s because I’m a girl, and my parents would never let me have a boy sleep over, much less suggest the idea. Though I can’t see my dad doing that for my brothers either. Maybe it’s just because my family isn’t very open about sex.
Either way, I can’t wait to get all the dirty details tomorrow.
I've been feeling a lot better this last week since I'm getting more sleep. I decided to believe that I am safe. It helps that I've got almost two weeks under my belt since I first set eyes on him. I'm even going to go out to the bars with everyone tomorrow night. I was a little bit too paranoid last weekend to try leaving the safety of the cabin at night, but I'm going to force myself to do it tomorrow. I'm definitely never doing any more forest parties, though.
I put my glass by the sink and walk towards the door. For as much time as I spend outside, I can always spend more time out there. And there’s no internet here, so, not much else to really do but read a book outside.
I hear a noise behind me and turn—
Someone grabs me from behind, an arm wraps around my stomach, pulling me into a hard body. A hand holding a cloth covers my mouth and nose. I take an unconscious, surprised intake of breath and immediately start trying to thrash my way out of his arms.
Has the vampire come for me again?
No, I can feel a beer belly pushing into my back, and he's not nearly as strong. I try to reign in my revulsion, focusing my energy on escape.
He continues forcing the wet cloth over my mouth and nose. Is he trying to suffocate me? I jerk my body around, and I’m able to get a few breaths without it over my face. It tastes and smells sweet and chemical-y.
Chloroform? Is he trying to make me pass out?
I pretend I’m underwater, holding my breath as I put every ounce of my strength into getting out of his grip. I squirm and twist my body violently, throwing elbows and kicks wherever I can land them. I’m able to break free enough to take another breath of fresh air. I swing my arm around and feel my elbow connect with his head. He grunts in pain, and I’m able to pull away from him completely. I’ve started to run toward the door when I feel his hands grab me again.
He’s much less gentle this time as digs his fingers into my arms, spins me around, and pushes me against the cabinets. As I struggle with everything I have, he bends me over, slamming my cheek into the counter and placing the rag back over my mouth.
I panic as I feel the weight of him on me, against me, crushing me, overpowering me. He has me in a compromising position, my ass against his crotch, making me feel violated.
I’m losing the battle. I’m breathing too heavily from all the fighting, and I can’t hold my breath to avoid inhaling the chemical. I’m losing. Terrible scenarios fly through my mind about what he’ll do to me when I’m out, or even worse, what he’ll do when I wake back up.
My leg is pressed into the cabinet, and I realize that something is digging into it.
My knife.
My knife is in my pocket.
I thought by now I’d be passed out; I probably don’t have much time. I can feel some of its effects on me. I try to slow my breathing and let myself go limp, making it look as if I’m passing out. I let my arm fall to my side and slide the knife out.
Opening it is tricky, especially as I can barely feel my hand. When I’ve got a grasp on the knife, I plunge it behind me, into the man’s side. The knife goes in with surprisingly little resistance, until the full blade is in the man.
He screams and releases me. I push back from him, taking a gulp of fresh air.
I need to get to the door. Everything is blurred, my vision barely working, so I stumble on numb legs towards where the door should be. I reach the table next to the door and grab my purse, hoping my cell phone and car keys are in there and not on the counter. I grab the door knob, throwing open the door and losing my balance in the process. I fall forwards on the deck, landing hard on my hands.
Keep moving.
Keep moving.
GET UP.
I manage to push myself off the ground and towards the deck stairs. I don’t notice the other man until too late, as his fist comes down on my face.
Pain bursts through one eye as everything goes black. I feel myself falling. I’m vaguely aware that I’m on the ground, but I don’t know which way my car is or where the other man is now.
I fight against the pain in the side of my face and my eye. I fight the hysterical crying that immediately begins. And then I try to fight against the rag that is once again covering my mouth and nose.
I lose all of my fights as everything fades away...
Chapter 14
...Pain builds in my body, inside my head, until I’m forced into consciousness.
My eye is throbbing, my head is pounding, my whole body is sore.
I open my eyes to blackness. My mouth feels dry, and when I try to lick my lips, my tongue hits something. I bite down on what feels like some kind of cloth. I try to pull it out of my mouth, but my hands are restrain
ed behind me. When I look around, I notice faint light at the edges of my vision.
I’ve been bound, gagged, and blindfolded.
Panic washes over me, and I almost start screaming hysterically.
Calm. Calm. I have to calm down. It’s just a little pain; they didn’t…do anything to me.
At least not yet.
No. Can’t think that way. I’ll be okay. Just need to think, to get free.
I’m sitting down outside, and it’s still daytime. My hands are tied behind me and around a tree, the hard bark of which I feel pressing into my back and arms.
I relive the attack. I taste that sweet chemical while feeling the cloth forced over my face, I feel my grip on the knife and how it slides into the man’s protruding belly with a sick ease, and I see the other man’s fist coming for my face just before the overwhelming pain hits my eye.
The pain is no longer overwhelming, but it’s by no means dull.
I have to get out of here.
I try to look through the bottom of my blindfold with no success. I viciously work to try to free my hands. The rope is tied really tight, and it doesn’t seem to be getting any looser. I’m working too frantically trying to loosen it; I’m going to need to slow down and concentrate if I have any chance of freeing myself.
