Bluedawn (A Watermagic Novel, #2)

by Brighton Hill

  “It’s nothing.” I sighed. “Let’s get out of here.”

  But just as we turned to leave, I heard the sounds of footsteps advancing toward us, crunching the fallen leaves upon the ground with every step. “Hey, there,” a masculine voice called through the trees.

  Dad and I stopped and turned to look. The three boys I saw at the market were approaching through a cluster of tall pines.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Today a new sun rises for me; everything lives, everything is animated, everything seems to speak to me of my passion, everything invites me to cherish it. –NINON DE L’ENCLOS

  When I saw the dark haired boy, my face instantly turned red again. Without even saying anything to Dad I ran out of the forest. My heart was beating way too fast. Perspiration beaded on my forehead.

  I heard Dad talking with the boys from a distance, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Mom grabbed me by the arm and startled me. I turned to her.

  “Did you get the wallet?” she asked. Her eyes narrowed.

  I didn’t want her to notice how distressed I was, so I acted detached. “No. We couldn’t find it.” All I could think about now was that boy and what he was doing in the forest. I was concerned about Dad. As much as I tried, I still couldn’t figure out why he looked so familiar to me.

  I strained my ears trying to hear the distant conversation. It sounded peaceful enough. If I ran back into the woods, I would just make the situation worse.

  “What’s Jim doing?” She walked over to the fire pit and began arranging the sticks and branches we had gathered in the forest.

  I walked up beside her and joined in to help. “He’s talking to some kids.”

  “Busy forest,” she laughed.

  I clenched my teeth. “I’m going to go get the park ranger,” I said suddenly.

  “Why?” she jutted her chin back in surprise.

  But before I could leave, Dad walked back through the trees. “What happened to you, Hailes? You looked terrified in there and then you ran away.”

  Embarrassed, I simply shrugged his question off. “You guys ready to get dinner?” I was trying to keep my breathing steady.

  “I’m starved,” Mom said dramatically.

  Dad and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. “Figures,” we blurted out in unison.

  ***

  As we walked into the restaurant, I delighted in the warm salty scents and the quaint feel. It overlooked the waterfront. And if you listened carefully, you could hear the sounds of the ocean through the opened French doors that led out to a small deck.

  We stayed inside though and opted for a table beside the big windows with excellent views. I appreciated looking out at the wharf that was lined with boats of different varieties. But my attention was mostly drawn to some fishermen who were unloading a net of live fish into a big bin while calling out directions to each other.

  An anxious feeling came over me when I noticed three teenage girls in bikinis with long legs and oddly mesmerizing looks pulled themselves out of the ocean onto the docks. They must have swum over from the reefs. One fisherman dropped the net when he saw them. He stood there with a scowl on his bearded face and fixated on their wet bodies and long hair that dripped on the wood planks.

  The French doors slammed shut and I jerked my head up off of my hand where my elbow rested on the table. Mom and Dad were still looking at their menus while we waited for the waitress to take our orders. With the doors shut, the sounds on the wharf were even more distant and muffled through the glass, but I got the impression that the bearded man’s mates were reprimanding him now for holding them up.

  The man seemed to ignore them and walked up to the girls. It appeared as if he conversed with them briefly, but they seemed to brush him off, laughing with each other, and then strolling away arrogantly toward the beach.

  “Hello there,” the waitress said interrupting my thoughts as she walked up to our table. “My name is Katie.” My attention shifted in irritation from the girls and the fishermen to our server as the young woman twisted a strand of her strawberry blond hair from her ponytail while reading off a list of specials.

  Dad ordered salmon on a bed of rice. I ordered clam chowder. But, Mom ordered a steak and ten different types of fish and shellfish with dipping sauces. She insisted that the waitress only serve the meat and seafood raw.

  “I don’t think we can do that,” Katie responded nervously. “You could get parasites from uncooked fish and bacteria from raw meat.”

  My mother’s eyes widened. “Isn’t it fresh?”

  “Oh, yes. The freshest. Never frozen.” She blinked several times.

  “Well, then, it should be fine.” Mom stared at her for a long moment eye to eye until the girl was uncomfortable and looked away.

  “Okay.” The waitress shrugged as she wrote the order down.

  My eyes followed Katie as she walked away to the kitchen. “What were you talking to those boys about?” I asked Dad, trying to not sound too interested.

  He was trying to take the paper off his straw. “You mean those punks in the forest?”

  I half smiled. “Yeah, those guys.”

  “They were drilling me.” He pulled the paper off and stuck the straw in his cola.

  I kept waiting for him to continue, but he retained slurping away at his drink. Annoyed that he wasn’t forthcoming, I looked over at Mom. She was staring out at the ocean as if lost in thought. The teenage girls were gone and the fishermen were closing up for the night. “What were they drilling you on?” I encouraged Dad to continue.

  He looked up with a wry smile on his face. “The dark haired boy wanted to know where we live, where you go to school, your mother’s name.” He raised his eyes to the ceiling.

  “He wanted to know Mom’s name?” I scrunched my eyebrows together. “That’s weird.”

  Dad nodded. “You should stay away from them. They’re bad news.”

  My throat tightened. “How can you tell?”

  “You mind your father,” Mom snapped at me suddenly. “I forbid you to see those devils.”

  “What?” My eyes widened. “You don’t even know who we’re talking about.”

  “The rogues in the woods,” she whispered.

  “So, you didn’t even see them,” I huffed in frustration.

  She turned away and returned to gazing out at the water. “If your father says they’re bad boys—I support his judgment.”

  Mom was annoying me, but I figured Dad was right. I had no intention of hanging around with them. The conversation seemed ridiculous anyway because I didn’t even know them.

  Katie brought our food out on multiple trays. I barely ate my clam chowder. I felt distracted. Dad didn’t eat much either, but he ordered a lot to drink. I think he liked the straws. They had all the colors. He kept opening a new one with every glass. In some ways he was kind of juvenile, but it gave us a chance to tease him. As usual, Mom really got into the fish and meat. She wasn’t crazy about most of the sauces, so she ordered some thick cream and shortening for dipping and smearing.

  Though my mother had exquisite manners, always keeping her back straight with the poise of a ballerina and dabbing her heart-shaped lips with the cloth napkin, watching her dine was kind of funny. She got so into it. Sometimes she even made noise while she chewed—a low hum with a few groans here and there. And it was hard to believe that a thin woman like her could down so much.

  After the meal, we walked across the wharf that was dimming in the early evening light toward the boardwalk. The sand bit at my ankles as we trudged across the beach. But once we got to the cement, I dusted my skin off and we approached one of the open storefronts.

  “Let’s rent a triple seat bicycle,” I insisted as I held a twenty dollar bill out to the clerk.

  “I don’t know about this,” Dad kept saying as he shook his head. “You are bound to knock us off the seats, Hailes.” He was concerned about my clumsiness.

  Mom sort of glared at me. “We are
only riding that thing if you take the necessary precautions.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever…” My voice was edged with sarcasm.

  My father looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

  “Fine.” I gave in.

  My parents made me wear protective gear from head to toe. I was so wrapped up that I almost looked like a mummy. I didn’t have very good balance when it came to biking, rollerblading, or skating. I was pretty much a klutz. But on those sunny days of leisure, I made up for it in the water—like Mom, I was a great swimmer. Who could figure?

  The bike ride was a comedy act. Mom and Dad were mad at me because I kept falling off. Dad tumbled to the cement a few times too, but that was probably because he was too tall and stocky for the bike. I should have kept my eyes away from the sunset and paid more attention to keeping balance. But I couldn’t help it—I loved admiring nature and often got lost in my own thoughts. Peddling was so tiring and boring.

  But after we were all done, to my surprise, they said they had fun, even with the mishaps. I think they were probably lying so I wouldn’t feel bad. Whether they were or not, I was determined to show them a good time on our future endeavors. Even though their actual anniversary wasn’t for a few days, I had a whole schedule planned around celebrating every day. I was essentially a little nervous because I wanted it to go well.

  After we returned the bicycle, Dad threw me the car keys. “Why don’t you drive us back to camp,” he said with a grin.

  “All right. How much for each person I hit?”

  His eyes narrowed. “A hundred per kid, two hundred per adult, and a thousand per senior citizen.”

  “Very funny,” Mom interrupted, speaking in her sarcastic voice. “I’ll drive.” She snatched the car keys from me before I could even protest.

  We piled into the car, turned up the radio to a Led Zeppelin song that was playing, and rolled down the windows. Ironically, Mom drives like an old person, terribly slow. She almost really hit a woman pushing a stroller into the campground. Dad and I nearly passed out. We were yelling at her the rest of the way until we pulled into our campsite.

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I just couldn’t see.”

  “No excuse,” I reprimanded her again. My body was as stiff as a board.

  Dad was just holding his head in his hands shaking it.

  “Look,” she sighed. “The lady and her baby are just fine. Nothing happened. I’ll pay closer attention next time.” Her hands grasped the steering wheel tighter. “This damn campground is pitch black at night. Why don’t they light the place up?”

  “That is kind of odd,” Dad responded. “They should put up some lampposts.”

  We kept the car headlights on while we lit the fire we had set up earlier in the outdoor pit. The flames were tall and beautiful. Dad put his arms around us as we sat on either sides of him in foldout chairs warming ourselves before the blaze.

  For about an hour my father told us ghost stories and slasher tales. With the woods partially surrounding us, I started getting scared so Mom got out the marshmallows from the motorhome to roast in hopes of lightening the mood. Once we put the put them on unwound wire hangers and held them over the hot flames, the distraction helped a little, but I still felt nervous.

  “Let’s go for a night swim,” Mom suggested to no surprise. She had a glint of mischief in her electric blue eyes.

  Dad moaned a bit, but when he saw the disappointment on her pretty face he agreed.

  “You guys go ahead,” I encouraged. “I want to relax in the motorhome and call my friends.”

  They didn’t argue, but promised to be back soon.

  “No, enjoy yourselves. Take your time.” I needed a little break.

  “Okay.” Mom brushed her hand over my hair and kissed me on the cheek. “We’ll just be about an hour.”

  Dad’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me. “Don’t get into trouble,” he warned teasingly.

  After they left, I poured the contents of our water bottles on the dwindling fire. Once the blaze was extinguished, I was surprised how completely dark it was without the light of the flames. My throat tightened. I wanted to kick myself for not carrying a flashlight. I felt like an absolute moron. With a deep breath, I held my hands out before me so I didn’t bump into anything. As awkward as it was, I tried to make my way back to the motorhome.

  I kept inching slowly forward. But the metal outer surface of the motorhome never came. My mind was racing with all sorts of spooky thoughts. I heard something stir ahead of me. It wasn’t my imagination. There was actually something out there.

  With that realization, I froze in my step. There was a snap of a branch. My adrenaline rushed. As I listened more closely, it sounded like something moving in the forest. The movement was slight and hesitant like someone stepping carefully so not to make noise.

  After a moment, I held my hand up to my ear, straining to listen. There was a stirring of dried leaves on the ground. My jaw dropped. And then, there were whispers.

  My pulse raced like crazy. The blood must have drawn completely from my face. Who could be in there? I wanted to run away, but I was afraid I would bump into something. The darkness was maddening. I held my hands out once again and rushed forward. My fingers smashed right into a tree. I released a short wail. It hurt like hell.

  With my scream, birds flew from the trees all at once. I must have startled them. I heard the sounds of wings flapping and the rattling of the leaves and branches. That scared me even more than bumping my fingers against the rough bark.

  My digits throbbed from the injury. To stop the pain, I sucked the wounds. The bitter taste of blood filled my mouth causing me to gag and spit up.

  I must have walked too far because I was in the woods now. I sensed the numerous trees around me. The buzz of insects rang in my ears. Desperately, I wanted to slap my arms and legs to keep the night bugs off, but I was afraid the sounds would lead whatever was in the forest right to me.

  Considering all of the circumstances, I had to pull myself together and concentrate. I took a quiet, yet deep breath. The slightest bit of tension released from my body on the exhale. As I focused, I became more in tune. I could hear the faint rhythms of the ocean waves rolling on the shore behind me. The far edge of the campground was on a cliff facing the water below. That meant that the motorhome must be behind me.

  Now that I was more centered, I felt I could make more rational choices. Slowly, I turned around, taking deliberate, careful steps forward. Our vehicle should be very close. I must have just passed it by a hand’s length.

  Carefully I progressed, hopefully in the right direction now. I thought about the missing teenagers the park ranger mentioned. What could have happened to them? My mind drifted to the wallet, the bikini, and the blood we found in the woods earlier. Maybe those things were somehow connected to the boys’ disappearance. Did someone kill them?

  Shivers ran up my spine. My body tensed from fear. I had this terrible feeling that something bad was going to happen. I took another step forward even though I sensed that I shouldn’t have.

  I heard a loud snap as I stepped on something. Suddenly, whatever I trod on swallowed my foot and bit hard around my ankle. Something that felt like fangs pierced my skin. Oh, my God. Was I being eaten alive?

  I screamed a blood curdling scream—as I fell to the ground.

  CHAPTER THREE

  You’re like a dagger and stick me in the heart and taste the blood from my blade and when we sleep would you shelter me in your warm and darkened grave? –Lita Ford & Ozzy Ousbourne, Close My Eyes Forever

  Anxiously, I felt around my leg. My ankle was caught in the mouth of something. But now the offender wasn’t moving. Had it died in the midst of eating me? Or was it just slowly digesting my foot before it swallowed more of my leg? My fingers fumbled around trying to figure out what was happening. I felt my body grow hot.

  Whatever had me in its mouth had strong, cold jaws. It couldn’t be an animal I decid
ed. The shapes were too angular. What was it?

  Moments later, I figured it out as I felt around more. I was held in the metal teeth of an animal trap. The apparatus swallowed my foot with a shocking snap. It hurt like hell. I must have stepped onto it and triggered it to close around my ankle.

  Desperately I fumbled with the metal prongs, trying to pull it open. I wasn’t strong enough to release it. My hands just tore open more as I tugged at the sharp edges. For a few minutes I lay in the dried leaves and dirt confounded as I supported myself up with the lower half of my arm. How in the world was I going to get out of this trap?

  I heard a rush through the trees. Now I was even more terrified. Something was running toward me. It was moving fast. Was someone coming to kill me? Goose bumps raised on my arms. I felt so sick and horrified.

  I gasped. Whatever it was, brushed past me. I felt the fur of a wild beast. My fingers dug into the ground. Oh, God, was I being hunted?

  But then, there were more sounds. It was all happening so fast. Suddenly someone’s arms were around me. I was choking on air by now. It was so hard to breathe. Had someone set this trap for a human?

  “I got you,” a male voice said.

  I nearly fainted. At once, I tried to calm myself to figure out what to do, but my intentions were pointless—I was too strung out.

  “Just calm down,” the voice coaxed.

  I couldn’t see a thing, but I felt his warm breath on my cheek. He lifted me into his arms.

  I struggled violently to get away. What was happening? I just didn’t know. I was afraid whoever had me was going to kill me.

  He held me firmly. I couldn’t get out of his grasp no matter how much I tried.

  “You just have to trust me,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you. Your motorhome is right there. I’m going to bring you to it, so I can get this trap off your leg.”

  Possibly the person was trying to save me and I was taking it all wrong. My fight could be unfounded. His voice sounded gentle enough. It was difficult to decide if I could trust this stranger or not.

  He could be a serial killer who purposely set the trap to catch someone. Sociopaths can be tricky like that. Or he could be a hero. If I wasn’t in such pain, I might have been embarrassed for treating him like a psycho murderer. But, all I could focus on now was metal teeth knifing my ankle.