The Other Life (22 page)

“Where’s Mia?” Karen asked.

“Upstairs. I thought she’d be safer there.”

Joshua’s face changed. “Alone?”

“Yes.”

He ran past me without another word. I followed him, stumbling in my haste to keep up.

“Joshua?” I screamed.

He took two steps at once, pointing his guns ahead. Footsteps rang out behind me, but I didn’t check who it was.

I reached the first floor a second after Joshua.

“Where is she?”

I opened the door of the linen closet and pushed the towels aside. “She’s…” I trailed off. She wasn’t there. I ran into our bedroom, with its broken window and the
shards on the ground. “Mia?”

Nothing but silence.

Joshua stood beside me, his face paler than I’d ever seen it. “Not again.” Despair rang in his words.

“Mia?” I called, louder this time. Panic corded up my throat and I began to gasp for breath. Oh God, they’d taken her.

“She’s gone?” Karen asked from behind me.

“We’ll search for her,” Joshua ordered. He pushed past me and stormed into the corridor. I stumbled towards the wardrobe and ripped it open. Mia wasn’t in there.

“Mia?” I cried. Hot tears burned in my eyes and trailed over my cheeks.

My eyes settled on the bed and I fell to my knees to check the space beneath it. She wasn’t there either. Please not her. Please.

“I have her!” Joshua’s shout went right through me. I shot up and was out of the room within a second. Please let her be alive.

“Joshua?” I screamed.

“I’m here.”

Bathroom.

I rushed into the room. Joshua stood in the shower and held Mia. She had her arms wrapped around his neck and he pressed his cheek against her hair. His eyes were moist, as if he’d been
crying.

My legs shook so much that I thought they’d give way.

“Mia.”

She raised her head and looked at me. I took her from Joshua, though he seemed reluctant to let her go. I held her to me tightly while she wrapped her legs around my waist.

“She was hiding in the shower.”

“Thanks.”

Our gazes seemed glued to each other. There were so many emotions in his eyes, so many things I didn’t understand.

Mia stirred and I looked at her.

“Why did you hide in the shower? Why didn’t you listen to what I told you?”

Her answer was muffled by my chest. “I saw one of them.”

“One of them?” I exchanged a look with Joshua and his eyes clouded with worry.

“I saw it through the keyhole.”

They’d gotten upstairs.

A crunch startled me. I stared at the ceiling. Another crunch. Like footsteps above us.

“They’re on the roof,” Joshua said, wild determination and hatred flashing across his face. “Stay here, Sherry.” He was out of the room before I could blink.

No way.

Yet I hesitated, torn between my wish to follow Joshua and my fear of letting go of Mia. What if I wasn’t there to protect her from another Weeper in the house?

“I can take care of her. I’ll keep her safe,” Karen said, extending her arms. After a second I handed Mia over. It felt like a part of my body was ripped off.

I chased after Joshua and caught up with him at the ladder that led to the attic.

He glared at me. “Sherry, I mean it. Go back to the others. I don’t want you up there.”

“Forget it.” I pushed past him and climbed the ladder. I wouldn’t let him fight the Weepers alone. I had to protect my family. And Joshua, even if he didn’t want my
protection. He cussed as he followed me.

The attic was dark and dusty. Only the moon shining through a small window gave any light. Furniture and paintings covered with blankets filled almost the entire space and the aisles in between
were narrow, making it difficult to navigate through them.

The noises on the roof grew louder, as if a Weeper was jumping to gain our attention.

Joshua’s steely grip around my arm stopped me. He whirled me around so I faced him. My anger crumbled under the look in his eyes. Fear and worry. “Sherry. It’s too dangerous. I
don’t want you to get hurt.”

“And I won’t leave you alone.”

He must have seen my determination because he reached out and stroked my hair, tucking it behind my ear. His touch felt desperate, as if he expected it could be our last.

A bang filled the attic. My hackles rose, an icy chill shooting through my veins.

Not again. One of them was in here with us.

The trapdoor had fallen shut. I strained my eyes, but the furniture blocked my view of our only escape route. There was scratching, as if someone was pushing a heavy piece of furniture around.
God, it was a trap. They were barring the flap, keeping us here. The shuffling came closer.

Joshua grasped my hand and dragged me towards the window. It was open.

“I go first,” Joshua said. He leaned out and checked his surroundings, then he climbed up. I hoisted myself out after him and crouched on the roof. Cold wind and rain lashed against
us. Slowly I straightened, my arms outstretched to keep my balance. This side of the roof was deserted. One of them was in the attic, but there was at least one more – the one we’d
heard walking around up here. Where was it?

I looked at Joshua, but he was staring at the other side of the roof. With the rain, it was impossible to see that far.

A scratching noise to one side startled me. I whirled around. Nothing. My breathing filled the air, loud and raspy. The clouds parted and revealed the full moon, its beams of silver light making
Joshua’s hair glow.

“Sherry!”

Joshua’s scream set my teeth on edge. I raised my gun and fired at a shadow darting out of the window. Fur brushed my arm and a foot or paw kicked into my stomach. The air rushed out of my
lungs and I staggered backwards. My feet slipped on the wet tiles and my body collided with the roof. Hard.

Pain shot through me. Hot and searing. Something was definitely broken. I tumbled down the roof, the sharp edges of the tiles biting into my skin, ripping and tearing. My hands slid over the
slippery surface. I tried to hold onto something – anything – to stop my fall. Suddenly my fingers clutched the guttering, though my arms screamed at me to let go. I felt my body
dangling like a marionette from the roof. The fall would be deadly – and then I wouldn’t be able to help Joshua.

Two Weepers circled him in a wide range. He shot, but missed. Hell, they were fast. I tried to pull myself up, but I barely had enough strength to hold onto the gutter. Something wasn’t
right with my shoulder. I groaned, spasms seizing my body.

Both Weepers lunged at Joshua. A scream ripped from my throat. “No!”

Shots rang out. A Weeper dropped to the tiles, unmoving. Relief burst through me, but the other Weeper flung Joshua across the roof. He landed on his back with a sickening crack. His gun slipped
from his hand, down the tiles and dropped to the ground. He groped around for his hunting knife, but it was also gone. He was unarmed, against an opponent who was impossible to defeat without
weapons. Our eyes met and the apology I saw in them sent a new wave of determination through me. I wouldn’t let the Weeper hurt him.

“You ugly beast! I’m here!”

The Weeper glanced over its shoulder at me, hollow eyes full of hunger. It was going to eat me. Its teeth would sink into my skin, its claws would rip me apart. But then I saw something.
Joshua’s hunting knife lay in the gutter a couple of metres away. I couldn’t reach it, not with my loosening grip. But Joshua could. Realization filled his eyes.

“Yes, get me, you stupid beast!” I screamed, hating how my voice rang with fear. The Weeper took a step in my direction, nostrils flaring. Could it smell my panic?

Joshua shot to his feet and slid down the roof. His feet bumped against the gutter, stopping his slide. He grabbed the knife and scrambled to his feet. The look in his eyes scared me.

My fingers loosened. Not much longer and I’d be spattered on the pebbles. Cold sweat and rain covered my forehead and dripped into my eyes. I heard voices beneath me. Frantic and scared.
But I didn’t look down.

Joshua pounced on the Weeper. Their bodies collided. Growls filled the night. Claws ripping, teeth flashing, spit flying.

Joshua would die. My shoulders and arms screamed at me, but it was nothing, absolutely nothing, in comparison to the thought of losing Joshua. I bit down on my lip so hard I drew blood. My arms
burned and my palms were slick from blood and rain. I whimpered, but I pulled until I thought my muscles and tendons would rip. My feet searched for footing, but they slipped.

Joshua.

My toes dug into the rough brick. The pain was fierce. Unimportant. I pushed myself up and managed to get my heel on the gutter. It hurt like hell. Worse. Like razors slicing my shoulders, acid
burning my soles, needles boring into my fingers. A tremor went through my arms as I hoisted myself up. For a moment, I lay on the roof, my face pressed to the tiles, wet hair sticking to my skin.
My body screamed at me not to move.

I stumbled to my feet, disorientated for an instant, and afraid. So damn afraid of what I would see. Joshua dead, ripped apart, lifeless eyes accusing me.

But the fight was in full swing. The Weeper had forced Joshua to the edge of the roof. One more blow and Joshua would fall.

I wasn’t sure how I managed to run on the slippery tiles, but I did, and I threw myself at the Weeper. It was crazy. Dangerous. My fingers grasped for its neck.

The Weeper roared. I’d surprised it. It lashed out but missed. I clung to its back as if I wanted it to give me a piggyback. I wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t let it hurt Joshua. I
wouldn’t let it get off the roof to kill my family.

“Sherry, let go!”

My hands loosened, taking strips of skin with them, and I landed on my butt, a stabbing pain shooting up my spine. The hunting knife flashed in Joshua’s hand, like lightning. He swung it
around, slicing the Weeper’s throat. A gurgled roar died in its mouth, blood pumping from the wound, covering its chest. The flow from its eyes worsened and the milky tears mingled with red.
It staggered backwards and fell off the roof.

Wind tugged at my hair and pressed against my ears. The Weeper was gone – dead. And we’d survived, had protected our family and friends. For a moment I’d been so sure
we’d die, but we lived.

We really lived.

Warm arms enveloped me in a crushing hug. Slowly, I leaned against Joshua’s chest. It was sticky with blood. I felt his lips against my ear, whispering or kissing, I couldn’t tell. I
was still so damn dizzy. His hands cupped my cheeks. So gentle, and yet so relentless when they killed. He pulled my face up. Blood was streaming from a gash over his right eyebrow, covering his
face. Moonlight reflected in his eyes, made them sparkle silver.

His lips moved, but I didn’t hear him over the whooshing in my ears. His hands pushed my hair back from my face, caressing and searching for injuries. Blood kept dripping into his right
eye. He just blinked it away.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He smiled as if I should know better than to ask. His lips brushed against mine, his palms warm against my cheeks. Our kiss tasted of blood and tears. Of rain and dirt. Of pain and relief. But
more than anything, it was a promise. An oath to never let anything happen to the other.

Neither of us returned to bed, though it was the middle of the night. I didn’t think I could fall asleep even if I tried. I wasn’t sure if I ever could again. The
tapping of fingernails against the window chimed in my head. The brightness of fangs and knives flashed in my mind, the taste of blood lingered on my lips.

Cleaning the house, removing the destroyed furniture and burning the dead Weepers took us the morning and early afternoon, but at least it kept us busy – in body and mind. It stopped me
from thinking about Grandma.

But in the evening, the smell of charred flesh hung in the air, burned in my nose and eyes. We buried what was left of Grandma next to Grandpa. Finally they were reunited.

Music blared in the background. Some kind of rap.

My foot moved in rhythm with it. I didn’t even like the song. The beats went right through me, making my body buzz.

I closed my eyes and tipped the bottle, the rim chilled against my lips. The Coke slipped down my throat, cooling me. Clanking – glass on tiles – brought me back.

Light flashed on the bottle. Spinning. Everyone watched it. Waiting. Excited and nervous.

My eyes followed the tip of the bottle. It slowed.

Don’t point at me. Don’t point at me.

It stopped. Izzy groaned.

“Truth or Dare?” Brittany asked.

“Dare.”

Brittany would use her chance. Stupid cow.

“You have to kiss someone on the lips.”

Her eyes rested on Eric – “the freak”, as he was known. I gave Izzy a sympathetic look.

“Alex. Kiss Alex.” Brittany smirked. Izzy stared at me. I clutched my Coke. Avoided her eyes.

I didn’t want to see how they moved into the circle, leaned towards each other and…kissed. I jumped up, Coke bottle smashing on the ground. My feet carried me out, tears blurring
my vision. I hated Brittany.