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Betrayal Revenge and The Rise of the Damned Page 2
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My mission now is to get home. Somehow. I’m only five miles away, maybe less. With my ankle, the trek will be arduous, but I’ll make it if I have to crawl on all fours. I spend a few seconds on regret at not having left for my apartment in the city yesterday. I stayed an extra day at my cottage in Southern Maryland so I could finish planting three stupid rose bushes. If I had left yesterday, I would never have been on that commuter bus, and wouldn’t be here right now, alone and hurt on a country road.
But I’m alive now. I have a chance. Who’s to say that would be the case in the city? Maybe, I consider, this was the angel that was sent. I spot a man sitting against a car, about twenty feet away. He’s staring at something, but from this distance, I can’t tell what it is.
I take a few steps toward him, careful not to get too close. “Are you okay?” I yell.
I’m not getting any closer until I know for sure he’s not like the creature in the bus.
He doesn’t reply or move.
“Hello! Are you hurt?”
His mouth moves as if he’s gnawing something.
I situate my hands on my knees and lean forward so I can get a closer look without taking a step. “Say something! Can you get up?”
Please don’t let him be a monster.
He raises his arm and points in front of him.
I move a little closer. “What do you see?”
He turns to face me. “Run! They’re coming! From the woods! Run!”
I fall back a few steps, staggering into a limping jog away from the nearby tree line. “Who’s coming?”
“You need to run. Go!”
And then I see. Oh, God, Oh, God! There are dozens of them, creatures like the toddler and the bus driver, pouring out of the trees. Some are missing arms, their socket bones exposed; some have only one eye or a half-eaten face; some are limping while others move with the confidence of a trained soldier.
A group of them descend upon the man. The rest lock their crimson gazes on me.
Their shrieks and roars momentarily paralyze me with fear. My heart feels like it’s going to burst through my lungs.
“Help! Someone help me!”
No one is coming to save me. I’m going to die. It took everything out of me to battle that one monster on the bus, and I very nearly lost that fight.
If only I had a weapon—not for defense, but to end my life more peacefully than what lies ahead. I feel a strange sense of pride at my fight to survive, but it’s over now. My suffering at the hands of these creatures seems imminent.
They thunder toward me. In a few seconds, I’ll be gone, with the monsters feeling no more remorse for me than a caterpillar feels for a leaf. And then it’s on to their next victim, without even a trace of humanity.
Despite my hurt ankle and the scene of approaching hopelessness, I get to my feet. I have to try. Even now. Every step I take is agony. I cry out but I keep going. It’s pointless, I realize, but I won’t surrender. When I take my last breath, I will know I had courage until the end.
I think of my parents and hope they are okay. I realize I will never see them again, and the tears begin in a fresh, steady flow down my face.
Goodbye, Mom and Dad.
My foot snags on a fallen branch littering the road and I fall to the pavement, the side of my head taking most of the impact.
I hear the grunting of my attackers. Then everything goes dark.
Chapter 2
SUNLIGHT SHIMMERS THROUGH the fractured glass of the small window in front of the tattered bed on which I’m lying. There are no other windows in this shadowy, mildewed, rustic room.
Intricate spider webs embellish cracked ceiling corners. Even in the afterlife, if that is where I am, spiders will forever torment me.
My eyes feel as if a heavy cloak is smothering them. I blink fast, in an effort to clear my vision. Shrouds of jagged aches encircle my head, making me want to scream.
Perhaps I’m dead...or worse, I’ve become one of those things.
Sitting up, I lean against the wooden slat headboard, the slight move sends darts of pain from the back of my head to my neck and shoulders. I hiss like a trapped, frightened animal.
I don’t know where I am or who brought me here. I should be dead, decaying on the road; crows scuffling with each other to get at what little remains the monsters left behind.
I run my fingers up and down my naked arms checking for bites. I lift my shirt and examine my breasts and stomach, then my legs and feet. Not a single bite, not even a scratch or bruise. My skin is soft and smooth, as if I had spent my whole life in some palace, being pampered by maidens with oils and lotions. Even the scab from my bike accident is gone.
I think of my ankle. I twirl it in long slow movements beneath the blanket with no pain. I bring my foot into view to inspect the injury, and immediately see the swell is gone. I move to the edge of the bed and place my bare feet on the dusty wood floor. My sneakers, stuffed with my socks, are against the floorboard next to a white distressed bedside table. The clock on the table says its four thirty in the afternoon. I must have been out for hours.
I massage my face and run my fingers through my tangled locks. On the table, there is a glass of water and a plate with crackers on it. I hastily reach for the glass, spilling some of the liquid on my lap. I drink as if I have been lost in the desert for days. I wipe my mouth and set the glass back on the table, and then pick up one of the crackers. I nibble at it, trying to retain a sense of decorum, but my empty stomach insists I succumb to savagery. I stuff the cracker in my mouth, barely chewing before I swallow it. I haven’t eaten since last night—a small bowl of cereal before bed. I finish off all the crackers, leaving the plate with only a few crumbs, which I have to restrain myself from licking up like a dog.
Manners, be damned. I lift the plate to my tongue.
“There’s plenty more.”
The voice startles me. I drop the dish on the floor, breaking it in half.
I scurry from the bed and glare at the man standing at the door threshold. “Who are you?” I grab the lamp from the table and hold it high, ready to defend myself. The lamp is light and made of plastic, it won’t help me much but it’s all I have.
“Calm down.” His voice is deep, yet it has a tender, soothing quality to it. “You’re safe here.”
He strides toward me, his hands in the air as if trying to quiet down a rambunctious filly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
If he tries anything, I’ll just scratch his blue eyes out. Then I’ll pull that dark wavy hair from his scalp, before setting his tanned face on fire with the bulb of the lamp. “Okay, you know how I can be sure you won’t hurt me? If you stop right there. Now tell me who you are.”
“My name is Daniel.”
“Okay Daniel. How did I get here? Where are we? And what’s happening?” I’m frantic, desperate for answers and wondering how it is that I’m still alive.
Cautiously, he takes another step forward. “Put the lamp down and I’ll tell you what I know, okay?”
I don’t trust him, but I have few choices at this point. My fantasies of blinding and burning him aside, how much damage am I really going to do with a plastic lamp against this man? He’s tall, muscular, and apparently rescued me from a mob of ravenous beasts? If he wanted me hurt, I’d already be there.
I lower the lamp, but my muscles remain tense, prepared. The pain in my head is worse. I could still make a lunge for the door to get out of here. My mission hasn’t changed. I need to get to my house.
Daniel glances at the bed. “Maybe we should sit.”
I raise the lamp again. “Maybe you should tell me what you know.”
He grins.
“Is something funny?”
He scratches his sharp chin and jaw like he’s a professor at a lecture hall preparing to say something profound. “I bought that lamp at a Dollar store.”
I almost exhale a chuckle but I resist and retain my threatening stance. “And?”
“And...I
don’t think a plastic ninety-nine-cents lamp from a cheap strip mall store makes a forceful weapon.”
I glare at the lamp, breaking a smile at the ridiculousness of my predicament. “I thought you said it cost a dollar?”
He smirks. “It was on sale.”
My smile turns into a snicker, momentarily easing the dark mass that’s circling my soul. I relent and put the stupid lamp back on the table. I sit on the bed and sigh. “What the hell is going on? Where am I?”
He joins me on the bed, his gaze straight ahead. “You’re in my home in the woods.” He faces me, his blue eyes hypnotic and piercing. “A new war has begun.”
I wait for him to say something else but he stays silent.
Instead, he places his hand on my forehead. “Does your head still hurt?”
His hand is warm and comforting. I close my eyes for a moment. “Yes.”
He presses the palm of his hand on my brow. “Don’t move.”
The pain worsens; my eyes water, my body is cold and starts to shake mildly. I grab at his hand in an attempt to get him to stop, but he keeps his palm pressed firmly.
“It will be over soon, I promise.”
His words are sterile and robotic and far from comforting. He’s speaking to me the way a scientist might speak to a rat before injecting it with poison. Maybe it was all a trick. Maybe my submission to him was the last poor decision of my life. Well, the list is long, so might as well go out with a bang.
His palm presses even flatter against me, and suddenly my whole body begins to shake violently. Foamed saliva bubbles from my mouth and runs down my chin in seizure-like fashion. My throat is now being devoured by my tongue and I can’t breathe.
Death seems certain this time.
Daniel slowly removes his hand from my brow and stares at me coldly as I flounder uncontrollably. Will he watch me take my last breath? Is he getting pleasure from my suffering? Or perhaps he’s just ensuring the magic of his touch worked before departing, leaving me here to die alone?
I fall back into the bed as if shoved in my chest. The seizures continue in full, but suddenly I can breathe as I retain control of my tongue. I inhale a deep breath, sucking the oxygen down to my lungs. My vision clears, and then the vibratory jerks of my body slow into erratic twitches before ceasing altogether.
The pain is gone.
“How do you feel?”
The words sound like they’ve come in a dream, but my instincts take over quickly. I raise myself to a sitting position and see Daniel still sitting next to me. I slap him across the face. It’s a full-torque slap, one you’d give to a would-be attacker on the street. He doesn’t flinch. I lift my hand again for strike two, but this time he grabs my arm at the wrist before I can cock it.
“You were thrashing your head in your sleep earlier. Otherwise, I would have made the pain go away hours ago.”
I pull my arm free. “You almost killed me. I couldn’t breathe.”
He paces to the window and closes the dense curtains. “I didn’t want you to be in pain.”
I clear my throat. “Next time just give me a couple of Tylenol, okay?”
He looks at me and smiles. “Sure.”
I swing my feet to the floor and stand. I feel light and strong, energized. My head is not only pain-free now, but my mind, panicked and debilitated only moments before, is now clear and eager. I want to learn. I want to be effective. “So tell me about this war.”
“A new order between vampires and witches has risen.”
I cough, laughing. “Well that’s a pretty straightforward explanation. Vampires and witches, you say? And they’ve risen?”
“Yes.”
I give him a moment to elaborate, but he offers nothing else. “Okay, I’ll play along. Risen to do what?
“The New Order wants to destroy and enslave all humans.”
In the movies, when someone doesn’t want to believe what is happening, she resorts to thinking one of two things: either someone is playing a practical joke or she’s in the midst of a dream.
My new clarity quickly filters through both of these possibilities, weighing the nightmare on the bus and the monstrosities that tried to murder me. And this new mysterious stranger, who appeared from nowhere and has somehow healed me to near perfection. This is certainly no joke, and if it’s a dream, I’m never sleeping again.
I bite my lip. “Tell me everything.”
He puts his hand in mine and guides me to the bench at the foot of the bed. “Everything I tell you is going to sound crazy, but it will be the truth. At least as I know it.”
I try to speak but I’m fixated on his stare, spellbound by the seriousness of his words. I nod for him to proceed. He squeezes my hand as if he’s afraid I’m going to make a dash for the door, but I’ve no intention to run “You may have guessed this by now but I’m not human like you. I’m half vampire, half fallen angel.”
Again I try to speak, but feel paralyzed. My mind won’t allow the typical habits of sarcasm and skepticism to take over the way they would have only yesterday. Yesterday’s Selena would have nodded politely and backed out the door, telling this man he’d be okay once the men from the hospital came and picked him up. But, I don’t say anything. I listen.
“Almost ten thousand years ago, the angels that were banished from Heaven and fell to earth united with vampires against mankind. Against humans. The humans were hunted down and slaughtered by these duel forces. And the ones that weren’t killed were enslaved. Humanity was nearly wiped from the face of the earth. But the humans had a secret weapon.”
I exhale slowly and nod to Daniel, trying—despite the impossibility of the words I’m hearing—to give him the benefit of the doubt. He searches my face for a sign of disbelief from me, but I only smile and shrug. I’m committed to hearing it, Daniel, the motion says, so let’s have it all. “Powerful ancient witches sided with humans and helped them destroy the vampires and angels who started the war. Thousands of vampires and angels died. But they left a legacy behind: their hybrid children. These hybrid children were half-angel, half-vampire, and they possessed unique powers. Unlike vampires, most hybrids could walk in the sun. And they had healing powers, and the ability to fly. But like vampires, they...we...feed on blood.”
I go to the window and pull back the curtains. I need air. I unlock the window. He touches my shoulder and gently pushes me aside.
He shuts the curtains. “It’s almost sundown and they will be roaming, looking for humans.”
I drop down into a chair in a corner of the room and sigh. The reality that this is all happening hasn’t quite burrowed into my brain. I feel like a sleepwalker, trudging through a hell bent on terrorizing me, with corpses and monsters laughing at me.
Maybe I never made it out of the bus after all. Maybe I’m stuck in some kind of demented alternate existence.
He sits on the bedside table and goes on telling his dark tale. “After the war, hybrids swore they would never engage in a war against humans.” He looks away for a moment. “We swore an oath that we would always protect humans and only feed from those who are willing to share their blood with us. Peace was restored and most vampires gave up their cause to destroy and enslave humans.” He frowns. “A small uprising remained, but they were easily controlled and outnumbered. Until now.” He pulls back the curtains an inch. “The sun is setting. Soon, we’ll need to remain quiet and only move if absolutely necessary.”
His hushed, yet harsh voice freezes the hairs on the back of my neck. “Finish your story.”
He turns off the lamp. I can only see a silhouette of him now.
“It’s not a story. It’s what happened and it’s what is happening again. If you don’t want to know the truth-”
I interrupt him. “Okay, okay, don’t be so sensitive. Please go on.”
He sniffles. “The Uprising grew in numbers and started attacking remote towns and villages in the farthest corners of the world. Hybrids sought the help of witches...but we were too late. Witches u
nited with the Uprising and murdered the eldest and strongest vampires who refused to join their cause, leaving chaos among vampires. And from that chaos a new order was born, one that seeks to fulfill the mission that my ancestors started. With the help of the ancient witches they may succeed. The humans who attacked you on the road are the Infected, poisoned with a virus brewed by witches.”
I pace back and forth from one wall to the next, unable to absorb what I’m hearing. This is insane. I should leave this minute. This man has obviously lost his mind.
As if he can read my thoughts, he says, “I wouldn’t blame you if you left. I know how crazy all of this sounds.”
“More than crazy. You’re talking about witches and vampires and angels and some kind of new order that wants to enslave humans. It’s all more than just crazy. This has to be a nightmare. I’m stuck in a nightmare, right?”
He wrinkles his brow and shakes his head. “When was your bus attacked?”
“Why?”
“Vampires can’t walk in the sun.”
My office is two hours away from my cottage. In order to make it in by seven in the morning, my usual time, I had to take the earliest commuter bus. I left my house at four thirty in the morning and parked at the Park and Ride parking lot. I was on the bus on the way to the city at four forty five. We didn’t make it very far down the road.
“Early this morning just before dawn.”
“Vampires attacked you. You should be dead or infected. They don’t kill all humans, some they infect with a virus that makes them crazed, and ravenous. They must have fled when the sun began to rise. The humans on the road were infected.”
I scratch my head like I’m trying to shake out some sense of reasoning and sanity. “Why are they infecting some?”
“Sunlight kills vampires...,” he stares at me, his eyebrow raised as if he wants me to figure out this part of the story by myself.
Chills creep up and down my back. “So they use the Infected to help them kill humans during the day.”