Deadrise (Book 3): Savage Blood

by Brandt, Siara

  The heavy door creaked loudly on rusted hinges as it swung slowly inward. Elan saw one thing only. Darkness. It was quiet as death in there now. And dark as the proverbial pits of hell. What had he heard? Rain dripping? A leak in the roof? Some kind of animal? He heard the sound again. But this time it echoed strangely in his ears and seemed to come from a far distance. It was the pot, he knew, that was distorting the sound.

  And then he heard what sounded like a low moan. Maybe it was a growl. Or something in between. Fear mushroomed through his chest as he finally registered that he really wasn’t alone.

  His heart felt like it was crashing as he fought down a sudden rush of panic. Even though whatever was in here with him was hidden by the darkness, there was no doubt that there was an intruder here. Or maybe he was the intruder. He wasn’t sure any more if he even wanted to know what was in there. But a morbid curiosity kept him rooted to the spot.

  “ . . . curiosity killed the cat . . . ” he muttered under his breath, barely making a sound as he slowly scanned the darkness with his tiny flashlight, hoping it really was a cat.

  A dark area stained the hay that was scattered across the floor in the middle of the windowless space. Something glistened in the light of his flashlight. He sucked in a shocked breath when he realized that he was looking at body parts and clotted blood. There was the white of bone showing. And tufts of hair.

  Elan stood motionless in the doorway, his drugged mind slow to grasp all that he was seeing. Had someone butchered an animal here? Or worse, had a murder been committed here? Either way, he wished he hadn’t come here. He wished he hadn’t opened that door. There was something bad here. Really bad. Thunder crashed loudly, startling him and shaking the old barn down to its stone foundation.

  Something invaded his nostrils. A sickening, almost sweet smell. He held his breath, almost gagging. He didn’t want that smell to be a part of his body, too.

  He stepped back, had the sensation that time had slowed down. Was he hallucinating? He had a new dealer. He could have gotten some bad pot. It could be laced with anything. If so, he wasn’t sure how it would affect him. He still had the presence of mind to realize that because of that possibility, this whole situation could get very, very bad. He fought another surge of panic down, but already it threatened to get the better of him.

  He needed to pull himself together.

  And then, with a stab of renewed fear, he became aware of something in the shadowed corner of the room. Something that he instinctively knew was watching him. He could see, if he strained his eyes long and hard enough, a gleam of pale, milky eyes in the faint red glow. He didn’t want to do it, but he moved the flashlight.

  And froze in sheer terror as he looked back at the most terrifying thing he had ever seen.

  It was a woman, or something that looked like a woman. Her mouth was dripping with something dark and glistening. He knew it was blood. Her face was smeared with it, too. So were her hands. And the ends of her stringy hair.

  As Elan stood there staring straight into those pale eyes that were reflecting the light of his flashlight, her mouth opened wide. She threw her head back. And screamed.

  It was a terrifying sound, something awful, almost primal.

  Elan slammed the door closed with a shuddering crash. He kept backing up, never taking his eyes off the door. He heard another scream. The sound cut through the barn like the screech of a tortured cat. He turned. He didn’t even know he had dropped the flashlight. He just kept running.

  He made his way to the ladder and climbed like the demons of hell were after him. He dropped down on his stomach and peered fearfully over the edge. He saw the thin red beam of his flashlight which was lying on the ground below him. He saw the woman’s feet step through the light. Then that terrible scream again that ended in a strangled, savage snarl.

  Elan quickly backed away and crouched down between several bales of straw, trying to hide himself. He put his hands over his ears and curled up into a fetal position and hoped that whatever it was would go away.

  He was realizing on many levels that he had made a grave mistake. But there was no turning back from it now. He could only let the drug play itself out. There came then the unwavering conviction that the thing was going to come up the ladder and that he was going to die.

  He waited. Nothing came. He kept waiting. The rain ended and eventually the dark barn and the surrounding woods grew silent as a grave.

  Elan stayed hidden in the straw bales. He felt like he was six years old again and he had just watched a forbidden horror movie and could not distinguish reality from fiction. He wanted his mother to come and make him feel safe again. And then he felt a consuming flood of horror and remorse as he realized that he might never see her again. And worse, no one would ever be able to identify his body. He’d be like that heap of bloody guts down below him, grotesque and obliterated beyond recognition. He would cease to exist.

  Rain-swept gusts of wind blew through the cracks of the old barn and lifted some of the loose straw in the air. Elan shivered as much from the cold as he did from fear, but as he lay on the soft bed of straw, he gradually fell into a deep, drug-induced sleep, blissfully, mindlessly oblivious to the thing that moved around down below him. He slept through the rest of that night, even as the mist rose and wafted soundlessly against the unpainted boards of the old barn and drifted right through the open doorway of the loft, like a ghost of old that silently kept watch over him.

  An owl kept him company. And so did the secretive mice that were its prey. Maybe they, too, knew the wisdom of keeping to the loft and staying hidden high above the ground.

  Still bleeding from the painful bite on her shoulder, Dani huddled under the shelter of the old bridge. Rain was still pouring down hard and she realized that the creek water had risen several inches in only a matter of minutes. She couldn’t stay here. She’d soon be trapped and cut off from home and from help. She had witnessed the impersonal, uncompromising force of nature many times. In no time at all the water would be high enough, and forceful enough, to sweep her downstream like she was a tiny, insignificant ant.

  She had to leave the shelter of the bridge. With the rain pouring down on her bare head, she splashed through the rushing stream which now reached her knees. She had to fight to keep her balance against the strong current. As she began to climb the muddy slope opposite the one that she had taken to get down under the bridge, she found that the path was much more treacherous here. She had to grab onto roots and branches to keep from sliding back down to the floodwater.

  She finally reached an open field. There were sagging rows of barbed wire that she had to climb over. The wound on her back felt like it was on fire with even the slightest movement of her muscles.

  A tangle of thorns cut deeply into the bare flesh of her ankles and she had to work frantically to free herself. The effort exhausted her further, and eventually she dropped to her knees in the mud to catch her breath.

  She was exhausted. She was drenched. And she was freezing cold. Her wet clothes were clinging to her shivering body. Her teeth were chattering uncontrollably. She knew she could freeze to death if she didn’t find help soon.

  A moaning sob escaped her as she realized the hopelessness of her situation. She couldn’t help it. She felt so lost. So alone. If Hunter knew, he would come. If only she had left him a message earlier, she might not even be here right now. If only she had her cell phone, they might have talked things through.

  She had decided that she wasn’t going to let herself believe that Hunter wasn’t in her life anymore. She owed him the chance to explain himself. She owed that to herself as well.

  “He doesn’t want you anymore,” Desah had said. “He’s moved on.” As always, Desah had sounded so smug as she broke Dani’s heart. So smug as she did what she did best. What she had been doing for the past fifteen years. Which was to work hard at making Dani feel unworthy of anyone’s attention or affection.

  Part of her wanted to curl up and die.
But she couldn’t give up. Something kept her going. She realized it was Hunter, in part, who made her struggle back to her feet. Despite all that Desah had told her, Hunter had been the only person to believe in her, to make her feel like she mattered. It couldn’t have all been lies. Hunter had said he loved her. He wouldn’t lie about that. He wasn’t that kind of person.

  Dani clung to his memory like a drowning person clinging to a life raft as she began to make her way across the sodden, wide-open field.

  Chapter 5

  In the darkness of Vedra Minegar’s front porch, Aili raised her fist to knock on the door, then lowered it again when she saw that the door was already partially open. She pushed on the door and it opened inward a few more inches, accompanied by a slight creak.

  “Vedra?” she called, but got no answer.

  As she stepped into the living room, some sixth sense told her that the house was empty, but she tried calling anyway. “Mrs. Minegar?”

  There was only silence. And darkness. The power was apparently out everywhere up and down the street because of the storm. She saw no lights anywhere.

  She looked around as her eyes adjusted to the deeper darkness inside the house, shivering because her clothes were soaking wet. All the rooms opening off the foyer were black voids. And they all gave back a silence that was almost deafening.

  How long since it had been had it been since the attack at her house? Ten minutes? Fifteen? It couldn’t be very long. She didn’t know if Mead was alive or dead. She only knew she had to get help. She was trying desperately to figure out what was happening. But she still couldn’t put everything together and have it make any kind of rational sense. The news reports. The sirens. The attacks. Were they all connected somehow? One thing she did know for certain. There were terrifying creatures walking around out there. She had seen one with her own eyes.

  But they weren’t zombies. They couldn’t be.

  Everything seemed surreal. Lightning flashed like a strobe light beyond the few windows that didn’t have heavy curtains drawn over them. Thunder followed. So far there was no sign of her attacker. But not knowing where he was didn’t make Aili feel any better. And where was Vedra?

  First and foremost in her thoughts was Elan. She didn’t know how to reach him. She didn’t have her cell phone with her and she wasn’t going back for it. At least not yet. Eventually she realized she might have to do just that. Maybe she could go to another neighbor’s house for help in the meantime-

  While her eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, she heard a blood-curdling scream coming from somewhere down the street. Then shouting. A door slammed shut. She had no idea where the sounds had come from. They spilled through the open doorway behind her, which made her heart clench with terror all over again. She quickly pushed the door shut, and then peered carefully through the curtains covering the leaded glass windows of the foyer.

  There were still no lights anywhere out there. There was no way of knowing how long the power would be out. There was also no way of knowing if Vedra’s house was a safe place or not. As far as Aili could tell, no one was here. The only sound was the steady ticking of a clock somewhere in the darkness.

  But Vedra should be here. Aili thought about the open door again. She knew something wasn’t right, but she didn’t have enough information to process it all. What if Vedra had been attacked, too? What if she was in the house right now, lying in the darkness somewhere, too injured to call out.

  Aili shook her head. She wouldn’t let herself think like that. There was nothing that indicated something like that had happened. She looked outside again and immediately shrank back from the window. She had seen the silhouette of a man in the yard. He had been moving towards the house before the shadows of the trees completely swallowed him up again.

  Aili didn’t know Vedra’s house very well. She had only been inside a handful of times. She backed up blindly, with her hand feeling the way, until she was in the living room. And when her eyes adjusted and lightning briefly lit up the room, she saw that a small table had been knocked over and pieces of pottery from what looked like a shattered vase were scattered across the floor. That’s when she realized that something bad had happened here. That’s when she wondered if she really was alone. That’s when she really got afraid.

  She froze when she heard the click of a doorknob being turned. The front door creaked slowly open on its hinges. Now she knew for certain that someone was in the house with her.

  She heard footsteps on the tiled floor of the foyer where she had stood only minutes before. They were muffled by the carpet, then whoever it was began walking on tile again. The steps receded and then moved off down the hallway leading to the back of the house. She heard another slight click and the sound made by yet another door as it swung slowly open.

  Standing motionless in the dark, too terrified to even move, Aili traced the man’s passage through the house. At least they sounded like a man’s heavy footsteps to her.

  She had several choices. She could run. Which would put her outside and in the open again. Or she could stay and fight. She immediately rejected that idea. She had tried fighting earlier. She had a third choice. She could stay silent and hide. In the darkness, if she remained absolutely still, there was a good chance she wouldn’t be discovered.

  As she backed farther into the shadows, she had to force herself to stay calm, even though her mind was racing through a whole gamut of terrifying scenarios. Right now the house was deathly silent. She didn’t know where the man was. There was not a footstep, not a creak to tell her where he had gone.

  Aili continued to listen and to try to penetrate the darkness. It seemed she waited an eternity. Then, whoever the man was, he stopped on the landing at the top of the stairs. He stayed there, as if he was listening, too. Aili remained soundless herself except for the sudden, unexpected crackle of pottery under her foot. Her heart lodged in her throat. Had he heard?

  Suddenly there was a loud crash as the front door banged back on its hinges. Something burst through the door and came straight at her. Her attacker had found her again. In a flash of lightning, she recognized the same man that had attacked her before.

  He must be completely deranged. Why else would he be pursuing her so relentlessly?

  His hands came at her out of the darkness. One tangled in her hair and she cried out, both in pain and in terror as she envisioned that bloody, mutilated hand.

  She jerked her head and managed to free herself although she lost a good chunk of hair. Apparently caught off guard, her attacker lost his grip on her and staggered backward. But he was after her again, growling and snarling with renewed bloodlust. Aili spun around, intending to make a desperate run for the front door, but it was blocked by the man.

  She headed for the hallway. Before she could get past the doorway of the first room, an iron hand clamped down around her wrist and jerked her into the darkness. She pitched forward, completely disoriented as the door slammed shut behind her.

  Aili whirled around. She had no intention of staying trapped in a room with a psychotic killer, but before she could take more than a few steps, she ran straight into a hard masculine chest. She tried to back away but iron fingers curled around her upper arms, stopping her from going anywhere.

  Terror made her desperate. She jerked one arm free, tightened her hand into a fist and swung with all her might. She connected solidly with something. With a smothered oof the man fell back away from her.

  But he still had a hold of her arm. He held on stubbornly, refusing to let her go. Aili, however, was in survival overdrive. She drew her arm back to hit him again when a hand closed around her wrist like a steel band, stopping her mid-swing. She struggled to free herself, but this time there was no escaping. He had hold of both her wrists.

  “Listen to me,” a deep masculine voice hissed. “Quit fighting me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  In a brief flash of lightning, Aili got a glimpse of the man’s face. Although it was only a brief one, s
he realized that he wasn’t one of those things. She registered the image of dark brows drawn into a frown over piercing eyes, a strong masculine jaw, and black hair that was as wet as her own.

  “Are you all right?” the same voice demanded almost harshly.

  Aili registered not only the force behind that voice, but the urgency, too.

  As her breast rose and fell with her deep breaths, she heard herself speaking in a tone which she barely recognized as her own. “Take your hands off me and I’ll be all right.”

  He let go of her, but not for a moment did she relax her vigilance. She was ready to fight again if it came to that.

  “What’s happening?” she asked in a breathless voice.

  “Hell if I know. Right now we need to get to a safer place so we can figure that out.”

  She was startled when there came a loud pounding and snarling on the other side of the door.

  “Wh-what should we do?” she stammered, adrenaline making her shake so badly now that she could barely control it.

  “We get the hell out of here,” the man muttered. “But first you stay put. I’m going to check outside.”

  When she did not respond, she heard, “Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.” She had to force the word out.

  “I mean it. You stay right here. I need to know where you are.”

  “Are there other ones out there?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he answered.

  There came a renewed, more furious banging against the door.

  “But if any more get into the house, then we’re in trouble.”

  She nodded, agreeing completely. Then realizing he probably couldn’t see her, she repeated her previous answer. “Yes.”