Dark Season: The Complete Box Set (110 page)

Shelley

 

Callerton, New Mexico.

 

"So what do we tell them?" I ask as Todd and I park outside the Parlours' house. Checking my watch, I see that it's barely 8am. It's been less than a week since we were last here, and I'm not sure they'll be overly happy to hear that we've managed to lose Abby so quickly. After all, Benjamin told them that he was going to take her somewhere safe. "What are we? Like, the Bureau of Lost Vampires or something?"

"We tell them the truth," he replies humorlessly. "We tell them that managing Abby is far more difficult than anyone could have imagined. We tell them that she escaped and that we urgently need to find her. If she's come back and they're hiding her, we need to make sure they understand the dangers involved. This isn't a game."

"I don't think she's here," I say as we get out of the car and walk up the driveway. "If I was her, I'd come back to Callerton but I wouldn't come here. It's too obvious." I glance around, wondering if Abby might be watching us from afar. "Is there any kind of wasteland nearby?" I ask. "Patrick always used to hang out in the forest around Dedston."

"There's a large forested area to the north," Todd replies as we reach the door. He rings the bell and we wait. "We'll check it out later."

"Maybe no-one's in?" I say.

"Mrs. Parlour doesn't work," he replies.

"Lucky lady," I say. "Then maybe she's asleep. After all, Benjamin said she's pregnant. Don't you have a phone number for either of them?"

"They didn't answer," he says, ringing the bell again. We wait, but there's still no sound of anyone coming to the door. "I guess we'll have to come back later," he says eventually.

I reach out and push the door, and it slowly swings open. "Or we could just go inside," I say, as I see that the lounge appears to have been completely trashed. I step forward, but Todd grabs my arm and pulls me back.

"Are you serious?" he asks, sounding angry. "You can't just go wandering in. You have no idea what's in there." He reaches down and pulls a gun from the holster around his waist. "Wait here," he says.

"Why?"

"Just do what I say," he replies. "Stay by the door."

"That's a dart gun, right?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "That's why I want you to stay by the door," he says. "I'm trained for situations like this. You're not." He steps into the house, holding the gun up as he looks around. "Hello?" he calls out. "Mrs. Parlour?" He walks over to the center of the room, still holding the gun out. "If there's anyone here," he calls out, "be aware that I'm armed with unconventional weapons."

"What's unconventional about the gun?" I whisper, hurrying over to him.

"Will you get out of here?" he hisses. "This is dangerous."

"You might need me," I reply. "Don't worry, I've got your back."

He sighs. "Stay behind me at all times," he says as we move through to the kitchen. Again, it looks like a bomb has gone off. There's debris all over the floor, and part of the breakfast bar appears to have been ripped away. As Todd moves slowly forward, I look over at the dining table and see a patch of blood smeared across the wall.

"Todd," I whisper, pointing at the blood. "This isn't just a normal home invasion, is it?"

He hurries over to the wall, pulls out a small phial from his pocket and splashes some clear liquid on the blood, which turns purple. "This is human blood," he says.

"Do you think Abby's been here?" I ask.

He heads over to the middle of the kitchen. "I don't see why she'd cause so much damage. She has no reason to hurt these people, unless she's angry at them for letting us take her away." He glances at me. "If she's anything like Patrick, she might not handle her anger very well." He walks toward the end of a corridor, which leads deeper into the house. "Remember," he whispers, "stay behind me. If you distract me, we'll both be in trouble."

"I've got your back," I tell him.

He sighs. "Stop saying that. You haven't got my back at all."

I follow as he walks toward the first bedroom. There's more blood on the floor, and he stops as he looks through the door. "Evan Parlour's dead," he says after a moment.

"How do you know?" I ask.

He stares into the room. "Because I'm looking right at him."

I hurry over and look through the door, although I instantly wish I hadn't. Evan's body is slumped on the bed, and there's blood everywhere. His body has been torn in half, and part of his spine is hanging out the back like some kind of bony tail. His legs are over by the window. I turn and put a hand up to my mouth, worried I might be about to vomit, but somehow I manage to pull myself together.

"There's no way Abby would do that," I say, taking a deep breath.

"We can't rule anything out," Todd replies.

"There's no way," I insist. "She's not evil."

"I didn't say she's evil," he says, stepping into the room. "I said she might be angry. She might not be in control of her actions, especially if she's scared."

"I'll wait out here," I tell him, deciding I really don't need to go into that room and see Evan's body again. I've seen dead people before, of course, but never one that's been ripped apart so violently. I guess I should have been prepared for something like this, but the truth is that I don't think I could ever get to a mental state where something like this wouldn't bother me. Todd, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be having too many problems. I guess he's seen worse.

"I don't think Abby did this," Todd calls out from the room.

"That's what I said," I reply. I feel my stomach tighten, and I pause for a moment, trying to make sure I don't throw up. "I think I might have to go and use the bathroom," I say. "I feel -" Suddenly I can't hold it in any more, and I vomit straight onto the floor. "Shit!" I mutter, stepping back through to the kitchen and grabbing a towel to wipe my mouth. "Fuck!" I shout. The last thing I wanted to do was make Todd think I'm weak, but the sight of that ripped-up body was too much. I don't think I'm cut out for this kind of thing. I could never be a Watcher.

"Are you okay?" Todd calls through from the bedroom.

"Yeah," I reply, making sure to breathe carefully. "I'm sorry."

"I can handle this," he replies. "Whatever did this, it's long gone. You can go outside and get some air if you want."

"I might do that," I say. "Call out if you need me." I turn and head outside, stopping in the driveway to take several gulps of fresh air. It's hard to get the image of Evan Parlour's dead body out of my head. It looked as if something had just ripped his body apart, spraying blood all over the opposite wall, and his dead white eyes just happened to be staring up at the doorway, almost as if he was looking straight at me. I don't understand how Todd can remain so calm when he sees something like that, but I guess he probably saw some pretty horrific things in Afghanistan, so maybe he's got a certain level of immunity. I remember asking Sophie once about all the things she saw with Patrick, and she kind of shut the conversation down pretty fast. If you see enough death, you get immune to it, but I don't want to be that kind of person.

"They're both dead," Todd says, emerging from the house.

"You found Ruth?" I ask.

He nods.

"The same as Evan?"

He nods again. "Whatever was in there, it ransacked the whole place. It was looking for Abby." He pauses for a moment. "That's a good thing. It means Abby wasn't here. If she'd been in the house, there would have been a much bigger struggle."

I stare at him. "How do you do it?"

"How do I do what?"

"How do you look at dead bodies, and then act like nothing's happened?"

He pauses for a moment, and then he starts walking back over to our car. Sighing, I start to follow. Sometimes, Todd reminds me a little of Patrick, and not in a good way.

"So your strategy is to be all silent and moody, huh?" I say eventually.

"My -" he starts to reply, but his phone starts ringing. "I was about to call you," he says as he answers, "we just found -" He pauses, listening. "Here? Okay. We're going to check the forest area to the north. Meet us there." He disconnects the call and turns to me. "That was Benjamin. Patrick managed to slip his tracer. They don't know where he is, but they know he's on the move. We have to find Abby before he gets to her."

Abigail

 

Callerton, New Mexico.

 

Down on the forest floor, I sit by Donna's body. Now that I'm closer, I can detect a very faint heartbeat, but she's clearly badly hurt. Reaching out, I roll her onto her back and I'm startled to find that she's staring straight up at me. After a moment, she blinks, but she doesn't move the rest of her body.

"You fell," I say, trying not to let her see that I'm upset. "I didn't push you. You fell. Okay? It wasn't my fault."

She opens her mouth, but no words come out. She looks so calm and peaceful, but also very pale.

"Why did you go up there?" I ask, failing to hide the trembling anger in my voice. "Are you really that scared of me?" I stare at her, and I see from the look in her eyes that she's terrified. "Donna!" I continue. "For fuck's sake, say something! Am I really so terrifying?"

"My neck," she says quietly.

"Your what?" I ask.

"I broke my neck," she whispers, her eyes still fixed on me. "I landed on my head. I felt my neck crunch and..." She pauses. "I can't feel my body, I can't... I can't breathe properly. I think I'm... I'm slowly suffocating."

I look down at her torso, then over at her broken arm. Reaching out, I grab her discolored hand. She should scream in pain, but she doesn't. "Can't you feel that?" I ask, starting to panic. I squeeze the arm again and again, feeling the jagged, smashed bones grinding against one another. "Doesn't that hurt?" I shout at her.

"I can't feel anything," she whispers. Her voice seems to be getting quieter and quieter, as if she's fading away. "I don't..." She pauses. "If you kill me now," she continues after a moment, "it'll be better than... I don't want to be like this." There are tears in her eyes, but she seems so calm. "I can't breathe properly."

"I'll take you to a hospital," I say. "They can help you. They can make you okay again."

"They can't fix this," she replies. "I don't want to be a cripple for the rest of my life. Just let me die. I can't breathe anyway." She lets out a gasp, trying but failing to take a breath.

"No!" I say, reaching my hands under her body and picking her up. I turn and start carrying her toward the town. "I'm going to get you to a hospital," I tell her, "and they're going to help you. It's going to be okay. Maybe... Maybe there's some new technology they can use. They'll sedate you, and then they'll do something to fix your neck. If there's a -" I look down at her face, and I see that she's passed out, and her pale skin looks more pale than ever. Stopping, I try to sense her heartbeat, but it's gone. "Donna?" I say, but I already know what's happened. She's gone.

Gently setting her back down on the forest floor, I stare at her face. She looks so pathetic, and weak. All she did was fall from a tree. How can a human die so easily? How can something so fragile even exist in the first place?

"I'm sorry," I say, my heart racing. I spent the whole night working out how to kill her, and then this happened. I didn't even get to experience the thrill of ripping her apart. Looking down at her pale, exposed neck, I realize that since she's only just died, she'll still be warm. Taking a deep breath, I lean closer. Her skin is soft and unbroken. I run my tongue against the tips of my fangs. Is it wrong to want to bite her? Opening my mouth, I lean even closer and I shut my eyes. I wait and wait for the moment of truth, but finally I pull back. I can't do this. I can't bite a dead girl, it feels wrong. "Sorry," I say again, getting to my feet and walking away.

Seconds later, I feel the pain again. It strikes deep in my stomach, and I immediately drop to my knees and bend over, resting on my elbows. The razor blades are back in my body, and it feels as if I'm being sliced up. I close my eyes again, trying to block out the pain, but it's no good: I just have to wait for it to pass. This time, though, it feels stronger than ever, as if it's never going to end. I roll onto my side, clutching my belly. Unable to keep quiet any longer, I let out an agonized scream. Usually, the pain starts to subside right about now, but if anything it's getting stronger and stronger. I open my eyes and stare up at the light blue morning sky. Something's seriously wrong with me, but I have no idea what to do. I can't keep living with this pain, but I don't know what's causing it. Glancing over at Donna's body, I suddenly realize: maybe it's the blood. Maybe I don't have a choice. Maybe I
need
to feed.

With the pain getting worse and worse, I get onto my hands and knees and start crawling across the forest floor, heading back over to Donna. I thought the pain would be getting weaker by now, but it's worse than ever, spreading all the way up into my chest. Unable to take it any longer, I manage to reach Donna's body. I grab her arm and pull her closer, and then I sink my fangs into the side of her neck. Her skin is cold, but I immediately feel warm blood bursting into my mouth. It feels good, and as the blood spreads through my body, it seems to beat the pain back. Drinking some more, I realize that this is too slow. Pausing for a moment, I look at Donna's dead face. She looks so beautiful and peaceful; I don't want to do this, but I have no choice. I take her head in my hands and slowly rip it off. I hear the sound of her skin tearing and her bones breaking, and I see the muscle twisting as I finally get the head separated from the body. Blood starts pouring from the wound and I lean closer, drinking it in as fast as possible. Finally, I feel the pain subsiding a little more, although it hasn't entirely gone away.

After a few minutes, there's no more blood coming from Donna's body. The pain is still intense, so I get to my feet and start staggering away. Although the thought terrifies me, I figure I no longer have any choice: I need to go back to Evan and Ruth, and I need to get them to call Benjamin and the others. Whatever's wrong with me, I can't survive out here on my own. I need help, and I need people who know how vampire bodies work. I don't trust Benjamin at all, but at least he seems to know about vampires. Collapsing onto the forest floor, I let out a scream of pain. The respite was only temporary, and once again it feels as if blades are spinning in my belly. I guess I can't even get as far as Evan and Ruth's house. Maybe I'm dying... Maybe the human and vampire sides can't co-exist in the same body, and I'm tearing myself apart? I guess it's totally possible that I'm a failed experiment, that my father was wrong when he thought he could have a child with a human mother. The pain is getting worse and worse, and I feel as if I'm about to pass out. I try to breathe, but the pain has almost completely taken over my body.

Suddenly I become aware of a figure standing nearby. Barely able to move, I turn and look up. At first, I can barely even focus, but finally I see Patrick looking down at me. He stares at me dispassionately, as if I'm just some kind of interesting object he's stumbled across.

"Help me," I say, barely able to speak as the pain spreads through my body. I reach up to him, but he doesn't take my hand. He just continues to stare at me. I try to grab at him, but I feel too weak. "Help..." I whisper, before letting out a scream. I can't take this any longer. I just want the pain to stop, and if that means death, then I'll take death. Closing my eyes, I fall onto my back and I wait for it all to end.

After a moment, I feel Patrick's hands reach under my body, and he picks me up. I open my eyes and realize he's started to carry me. Barely able to remain conscious, I start to feel that maybe - just maybe - the pain is getting a little better. For a moment, I wonder whether everything's going to be okay, but suddenly it comes back worse than ever. I close my eyes again, trying to block out the agony, but it's no use. As Patrick carries me away, I scream again. The pain is intense, and it builds and builds until it feels as if my mind is going to explode. Finally, mercifully, I lose consciousness entirely.

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