Paradox - Progeny Of Innocence (bk2) (Paradox series) (22 page)

"Are you sure?" Joshua asked apprehensively, scanning the burning forest with the hope of discovering a safer route. Another tree fell, and was quickly devoured by the hungry flames.

"Trust me!" Angela yells. "This is the safest way out." Another tree fell, sending a fresh wave of embers high into the air.

"Come on, Clair," Jackson said, taking the girl from Joshua and pulling his jacket over her head to shield her from the elements. "Let's get you out of here." The girl nodded, and sobbed, and clung to his chest. "And Clair," Jackson said. Clair looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "I just want to tell you how sorry I am."

"For what?" she asked in a small voice.

"For dumping you by text... that was pretty lousy."

Clair nodded. "Yes it was," she said, ducking to miss a flaming branch as it came crashing down.

"Are
you
okay?" Joshua asked, studying Angela thoroughly as they ducked and weaved around burning tree branches. "I was so worried about you… oh my God, is that blood, have you been hurt?" He grabbed Angela's wrist and pulled her to a standstill.

Angela held her palms up to let the rain wash over her bloodied hands. Then she gently removed her hand from Joshua's grip and continued to run. "I'm fine, Josh," she said, reassuring him. "Let's just keep moving. And it's Clair's blood, not mine." She looked over her shoulder at Jackson and shouted. "As soon as we get out of here, you and Amber should get Clair to the hospital. And make sure she gets a tetanus shot if she hasn't had one in the last five years. That dog bite is pretty bad."

Jackson nodded and put his arm protectively around Clair's shoulders. "Sure, we can do that."

By the time Angela, Joshua, Jackson, and Clair had pushed through the burning forest and reached the others in the safety of the car park, the rain that had come down in sheets was already starting to subside. The fire, extinguished by the downpour, was now nothing more than a few delicate curls of smoldering grey smoke.

Amber and Sonndra, with mud splattering up on their legs, ran up to Clair and dragged her off to Jackson's vehicle. Once inside, they held her hands and fussed over her wound like a pair of mother hens clucking over an injured chick.

Andrew slapped Jackson on the back and shook Joshua's hand. "Great job, you guys," he said, shaking his head in awe. "For a while there things were getting pretty scary, and we were about to go and get help. That rain sure did arrive at the right time."

Angela, with black soot and hair plastered to her face, made a beeline straight for Andrew's car. She pulled open the back door and climbed in. "If it's okay with everyone, and if this has been enough
fun
for one evening, then I would really like to go home."

"Should we wait for Tony and Eric?" Andrew asked no one in particular.

"I'm pretty sure they're not coming," Angela replied. And this time, no one questioned her.

* * *

I am lost in the darkness again, only a banging sound disturbs me, and I try to block it out. I want to make it go away, so I can go back to the dream, back to him.

I try to concentrate harder, but it's too late; the dream has already begun to dissolve, and he has gone. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, and try one last time to retrieve him from the darkness that has concealed him from me. I start to shake. Then I realize that someone is shaking me. "Why," I say. "I don't want to go!" I try to push the hand away.

"Wake up, wake up. Please, you have to wake up! There's someone at the door," a little voice says in an urgent whisper.

I am awake now, and I sit bolt upright to find that my vision is a blur of snowy white dots. I hear the banging again. Only this time I hear it clearly, and it is the television screen I am looking at, not a snowy vision of white light from a dream. There is a young boy, Abe, standing beside me, shaking me with one of his little hands, and in the other, he grasps an old wooden toy sword. Outside, the rain is pelting down like a thousand fists drumming on the corrugated roof overhead.

This is not a dream…

"Don't open it," Abe begged in a frightened little voice as he gripped the wooden sword firmly in his hand. "There's a monster out there…"

Grace turned off the television and tossed the remote on the coffee table. She missed, and it fell to the floor. "You've just had a bad dream, Abe. That’s all." She ruffled his hair. "Me, too… I'll get you a glass of milk; that will help you get back to sleep, chase the nightmares away. I'll have one, too." Grace stood up, the television screen flicked on, and a woman screamed. "Hell!" Grace shrieked. "That scared the hell out of me." She reached down, picked up the remote from under her foot and showed it to Abe. "See, there's your monster," she said, pointing at the television screen with the remote, just as a woman was being attacked by Count Dracula in a late night movie. She pushed the remote button, turning the television off.

Abe shook his head. "No…that's just a movie. The real monster is outside."

"Who is it?" Grace called, walking to the front door.

The door handle shook just as she reached out to grab it, and she quickly snatched her hand away. The handle shook again, and the voice on the other side of the door said, "You don’t know me, I'm a traveling salesman."

Grace said nothing. She looked over her shoulder at Abe. He shook his head. "Don't open it."

"Come on, it's just me, Grace, open the door, it's pissing down out here."

"See," Grace said, smiling at Abe. "No monster…"

"No, don't open it, please," Abe wailed, from his makeshift fort behind the sofa. "It's a scary monster…"

As soon as Grace unlatched the door, a sudden gust of cold wind and rain ripped the door out of her grasp, throwing it open wide. The unexpected rush of wind and rain pushed her off balance, making her take a step back to steady herself.

A drenched figure, silhouetted by the streetlights, loomed large in the open doorway. "Man, it's really coming down out there tonight, I'm drenched to the bone," Eric said, taking off his jacket.

"Quick, you better come in so I can close the door," Grace said, taking Eric's wet jacket.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, shaking himself off. "That storm came out of nowhere." He looked around the room. "I hope I haven't disturbed you?"

"No, not really. I fell asleep on the sofa, watching television," she said, hanging Eric's jacket over the back of a kitchen chair to dry. "I'm surprised to see you here, though. I thought you were going to East Point to check out the Poinciana Woman with the other guys tonight?"

"Change of plan. Josh told me to meet him here. So, who have we got here?" Eric asked, eyeing the boy half hidden behind the sofa with a wooden sword held up in front of him.

"Oh. This is Abe. Abe, meet Eric, a friend from school." Grace walked over to Abe and put her arm around him. "Abe's just had a nasty nightmare, so I'm about to get him a glass of milk and tuck him back into bed. Abe's having a sleepover, and he's going to help me make pancakes in the morning."

Abe nodded his head and lowered his sword hesitantly.

"Say hello, Abe. Eric plays football, so maybe he could teach you a few moves sometime?" Abe shook his head defiantly. "He's just a bit shy," Grace said, going to the kitchen to pour Abe a glass of milk. "Can I get you something, Eric? A coffee, a cold drink?"

Eric shook his head. "No, I'm good. I'll just wait here while you put the little guy back to bed. Nice Spider Man pajamas," he said. "My little brother had a pair just like them when he was a kid about your age."

Abe raised his sword again as Eric walked slowly toward him. Eric stopped, held his arms up, smiled at the boy, and then sat down on the sofa. Abe stayed put and watched Eric, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his belly, his instincts telling him that Eric could not be trusted.

"Here you go, Abe. Let's get you and your glass of milk back into bed, shall we?" Grace said, taking Abe's hand and leading him back down the hall to her bedroom. "I'll be back in a second, Eric," she called. "Make yourself at home."

Abe watched Eric suspiciously over his shoulder as Grace led him away. He gasped when Eric quickly turned around and glared back at him with a twisted grin on his face.

Eric nodded. "Sure, no worries, Grace, take your time." As soon as Grace and Abe were out of sight, he picked up the remote, turned on the television, and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

"Are you okay, Abe?" Grace asked when she felt Abe's hand tighten in hers.

"I don't like him. He's a baddie," Abe said, sitting down on the mattress to drink his glass of milk.

Grace's curtains flapped fiercely as a howling wind whistled angrily through the partially opened window. She pushed it completely closed, and then locked it.

"Can you leave the light on?" Abe asked as he clasped the sword tightly across his chest.

"Sure," she said, turning on the bedside lamp and flicking off the bedroom light switch. "How's that?"

Abe nodded, and then added. "Will you leave the door open, too?"

She heard the television on in the lounge room, so at least Eric was being entertained while he waited. "Would you like me to sit and read to you for a little while?" Grace asked, sitting down on the mattress beside him.

He nodded, and she picked up one of his books and started reading to him until he fell back to sleep.

She smiled, picked up the empty glass, and blew the sleeping boy a kiss. "Sweet dreams, Abe," she whispered, leaving the bedroom door ajar.

"Eric, are you sure I can't get you a coffee or-" Grace stopped mid-sentence and looked around the empty living room and the kitchen. Eric's jacket was still hanging over the kitchen chair where she had left it. Perhaps he had got tired of waiting and had gone home without it. She flicked the television back off and washed Abe's empty glass in the sink. Then she refilled the glass with water and drank it while she stood looking out the kitchen window. Angela's house was still in complete darkness except for the light that shone brightly at the front door.

She felt a chill, then a warm breath on the back of her neck, and she gasped when she saw the reflection of a face in the kitchen window staring back at her. She dropped her glass in the sink, smashing it, and spun around to look directly up into empty black eyes.

Her heart thumped; she held her breath, and then slowly exhaled. "Jesus, Eric… you scared the hell out of me," she said, sliding along the kitchen bench to put some distance between them. He moved along with her, keeping her pinned against the bench.

"Eric, what are you doing?" she asked. She didn't want him to know that he was starting to frighten her by his odd behavior. "I'm going to make myself a coffee, are you sure I can't make you one, too?"

He shook his head slowly, his eyes not leaving hers. Gradually the twisted smile on his face turned up into an intimidating smirk. She tried to push him, to get past him, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned her up against the kitchen bench.

"I think you should go, Eric," she said, trying to break free from his grip. He leaned in and sniffed her hair then licked the side of her face. "Let me go, get off me!" she shouted, struggling fiercely in his vice-like grip.

"I'll let you go when I'm ready to let you go. Not a moment before. Do you understand me? And keep your voice down; you don’t want to wake the kid, do you? I don't know what I'd have to do if you woke up the little brat."

"I'm warning you, Eric. You better get out of here or I'll-"

"You'll do what? You've always thought that you were better than me, didn't you? You, Angela the brain, and that wog, Josh. Well not anymore! You see, I've got some new friends. Powerful friends, and we don't ask. We take. And I'm going to take you. I know no one's going to be home for a while. So you and I, well, let's just say we're going to take our friendship to a whole new level."

"What are you talking about? That isn't true; I never thought I was better than you were. You're the one who asked for my number then never called. Now it's too late, so let me go and get out!" Grace hissed through clenched teeth so as not to wake Abe.

He pushed her harder up against the kitchen bench, then leaned in and kissed her. She struggled, trying to turn her face away from him, but he was much too strong for her, so she did the next best thing. Eric's hand snapped up to his mouth and he let out a cry of pain. "You bit me…you bitch," he spat, throwing her across the kitchen. Her head smashed hard against the corner of the refrigerator. She let out a moan on impact, rubbed her head, and slipped down the fridge to the floor. When she pulled her hand away, a smear of blood stained her fingers. She felt dizzy and closed her eyes for a moment, fighting to hang onto consciousness. Why was he doing this to her, she wondered? Was it something she had said, or done? It didn’t make sense. It was as though something had just snapped in his head and he was totally out of control.

Eric walked over to her and dragged her up roughly by the arm. "Come on, up you get, that's it. I feel like dancing, don't you?" He hitched her up and swung her around the kitchen like a rag doll. Then after a few moments, he dragged her over to the kitchen table, pushed her down on top of it and started to unbutton her blouse. "Lets you and I get better acquainted," he said with a smirk on his face and a look in his eye that was nothing less than pure evil.

"Please don't do this, Eric, just go… if you go now I won't tell anybody you were here. Please just-"

"Just shut up," he hissed into her ear. "Didn't anyone ever tell you, you talk way too much?"

"Leave her alone!" Abe shouted from behind Eric with his sword held up ready for battle.

Eric turned slowly around and laughed. "You really should go back to bed, you stupid little boy. Grace and I are just having some fun."

Abe shook his head. "No, you get out. You're a baddie!" he yelled, edging forward. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Well, you should be," Eric spat, lunging at Abe just as Abe thrust his sword forward and shoved it into Eric. A trickle of blood oozed from the wound, and Eric laughed. However, his laughter quickly turned to anger as the timber sword began to burn into his flesh. He abruptly slapped the sword out of the boy's hand, sending both the sword and Abe sailing across the room. Abe hit the far wall and crumpled to the floor. The toy sword, carved from the Ancient Oak, lay on the ground beside him.

"Leave him alone!" Grace screamed as she leapt onto Eric's back. She reached her fingers around his head and scratched his eyes with her fingernails. He reached his arm back and pulled her over his shoulder, flipping her onto the floor like a bag of dirty laundry.

"You don't know when to give up, do you?" he said, straddling her and squeezing her throat with his hands. She looked around frantically for a weapon. Then, under the coffee table, she spotted the second sword, Hope's sword. Her fingers reached out, raking the carpet in an effort to reach it. He shook her again, moving her closer. Then, with one last try, she gripped the handle firmly in her hand and with all of her strength, she brought the toy wooden sword straight up toward Eric's throat.

Eric, anticipating Grace's maneuver, slammed her hand down on the floor. Pain shot through her arm and loosened her grip on the sword, and it bounced out of her reach. "Oh, so you want to play rough, do you?" he snarled through clenched teeth. "Bring it on, bitch."

"Please," Grace said as a sob caught in her throat. "Please, I don't know why you are doing this, I thought we were friends?"

He ignored her pleas. "You play rough, but I play rougher. And only one will win. And sweetheart, that isn’t going to be you. After I'm finished with you, bitch, I'm going to watch you burn," he chuckled maliciously, thinking about his plan.

"And it isn't going to be you, either," came a contemptuous voice from behind Eric. "Now get off her!"

Eric's head snapped around in response, and he positioned himself ready to attack, but he was too slow. Damon already had Eric's head gripped tightly between his hands and swung him around effortlessly, smashing him onto his back. Eric struggled violently in Damon's grasp. However, his strength was no match for Damon's superior capabilities.

"I have friends," Eric spat. "And they won't let you get away with this…"

"Your friends don't give a flying crap about you, my friend; you are nothing more than a lapdog doing their dirty work."