The cash register dinged as the clerk opened it. Megan could hear the shuffling of dollar bills and the scratching of paper as the clerk stuffed a paper bag with the items that the thief had asked for.
“I’ll open the safe now.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Megan saw the clerk bend over. He stood up quickly with a double-barrel shotgun pointed at the gunman, but by the time he’d cocked it, the thief had regained his focus and pulled the trigger. Megan screamed as the clerk let out a moan and collapsed to the ground.
“You stupid fuck!” the thief shouted, rushing the counter. A package of Twinkies fell out of his pocket. He snatched the bag off the counter and pointed his gun at Megan. She’d scrambled to her knees when the gun had gone off.
“Just go! You have the money, I won’t say anything!” Megan yelled, covering the back of her head with her hands. Panic flooded through her in great waves and tears blurred her vision. “Please!”
“You know what I look like, you dumb bitch! I have no choice!”
Megan heard the deafening sound of the gunshot, and in the split second before she crumpled to the ground, she wondered if dying was going to hurt as much as she thought it would.
* * *
The sound of her blood pumping brought Megan out of the darkness. She tasted something metallic on her lips, and she could feel the weight of another person on top of her.
“Just a little more,” the disembodied voice commanded. “Come on.”
Megan felt her chest constrict, then she gulped a mouthful of air. Repeatedly, until she felt like she could breathe normally again. Her eyes opened and she tried to regain control.
“Where am I? What happened?” she asked, panting.
“You were hurt.”
“Yes, I figured that out, but what are you doing?” Megan asked, looking at the stranger’s bleeding wrist.
“Saving you?” she said, sounding the slightest bit annoyed.
“Why are you bleeding? Are you hurt?” Megan felt her pulse quicken as she realized she wasn’t in the gas station anymore. Instead, she was lying on the fringes of a department store parking lot, bleeding from an apparent wound in her stomach, while this woman appeared to also be bleeding out.
She looked at her wrist, then turned it over quickly. “Yes, I’m hurt. Sure. So, best of luck. Godspeed. Get well soon.” The woman stood, brushing the dirt off of her jeans.
“No, wait. You can’t just leave me here! Was I…shot?” Megan asked, recalling the events of the gas station. She looked down at the blood on her top and pulled up her shirt.
“Yes.”
“Oh my God, I was shot. Why didn’t you take me to a hospital?” Megan searched for her wound but found that underneath the smear of blood there was no bullet hole. She opened her sweater and lifted her shirt to poke and prod at her stomach.
“You would have died.”
“What do you mean? There’s nothing here. The bullet must have just grazed me.” Megan tried to stand, but she was woozy. The woman reached out to steady her, placing a hand on Megan’s forearm.
“Okay, then. My bad.”
“Who are you?”
The woman sighed heavily and rubbed the back of her neck. “Angeline. If you’re all set, I’m gonna go.”
“Did you kidnap me or something? What are we doing out here?”
“My God! Look, you would have died from a gunshot wound if I’d left you in that store or if I had called an ambulance. You didn’t even have a pulse when I got there. I was too late for the cashier. And the guy that shot you, well, he’s dead too. I saw you, and I didn’t want you to die, so I fed you a little of my blood to heal you. I’m not going to turn you or anything. That’s it. Can I go now?” Angeline raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms.
“You fed me your blood? Okay, so you’re psychotic? Or just a goth who’s taken things a little too far?” Megan took a few steps backward, realizing that poking someone who was clearly mentally unstable might not be in her best interest.
Angeline laughed and looked up at the sky. “Yeah, that’s it. I’m a psychotic goth. Next time I’ll just mind my own business. Make sure you have a doctor remove the bullet. I don’t know what kind of long-term effect that could have on you.”
Megan opened her mouth to remind her that there was no gunshot, but before she could say another word, Angeline had taken off. She’d jogged toward the tree line and then seemingly disappeared. Megan looked around the empty parking lot to see if there was a car parked along the woods or maybe across the street. The only vehicle she saw was an eighteen-wheeler parked at the far end of the lot, the driver sleeping comfortably at the wheel.
How the hell did she get us out here? Megan patted her pocket, and thankfully, her cell phone was still there. She was still unsettled and sore, but at least she hadn’t lost her connection to safety. She wondered if she’d sustained a head injury and this was some bizarre hallucination. Maybe she’d walked to the store in a daze? Maybe she just needed to rest. She pulled out the phone and started to dial 9-1-1. But before she hit send, she disconnected instead. What would she tell them? Why was she out here, in the Bullseye parking lot of all places? She dialed her friend Stacey instead. She seemed like the safer option.
Stacey answered the phone groggily after a few rings.
Megan’s voice sounded high-pitched, but she couldn’t help it. “You are not going to believe what happened to me tonight. Can you come get me and bring me to my car? I know what time it is. Just trust me. Pick me up in the Bullseye parking lot.”
The Bullseye was about a mile or so away from the gas station where the shooting had taken place. It didn’t make any sense. How had Angeline gotten them there without a car? Why didn’t she just stay and wait for the police? Maybe she was wanted. Some outlaw who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And how had she healed her? Did she really heal her or was she just crazy? Megan felt her stomach again. There was a slight discomfort, but no real pain. She remembered the gunman pointing his gun at her and pulling the trigger. She remembered the second of debilitating pain before she had blacked out. But it must have only grazed her, right? Obviously, if she’d been shot, she’d be in agony. The woman must have been mistaken. Crazy.
Still in her haze of hollow delusion, Megan couldn’t deny that there was something intriguing about Angeline. She was beautiful, with long wavy brown hair and dreamlike eyes the color of honey, but it was more than that. There was something almost preternatural about her, something…feral. And did Angeline say that the clerk was dead, and so was the shooter? Megan shook her head forcefully, trying to clear away some of the cobwebs. When she finally saw Stacey’s Civic pull into the parking lot, she fought the urge to cry in relief.
Chapter Three
Great Barrington, Massachusetts, 1926
Angeline woke up on a box spring with a coil poking her side. She sat up quickly and clutched the scratchy wool blanket to her chest.
“You’re awake. I tried not to disturb you,” Kathryn said, a small lantern beside her. She shook out the match she was holding until the flame disappeared.
“Where are we?” Angeline asked, trying to identify the vast space around them.
Kathryn shrugged. “A warehouse. Grains, I think. There’s a lot of these things lying around the floor and some hay up at the entrance. Seems like it’s been empty for quite some time.” She held up a sandy-colored pellet.
“Why are we here?”
“I just thought we should be somewhere secluded for a while. Sometimes those that are…” she paused, “recently turned, you know, choke. Panic. Cause a scene. I just wanted to make sure that you were calm and collected.”
Angeline cleared her throat. Kathryn insinuating that she might panic was causing her to panic. “I don’t remember much. Once you came and took me from my house the night after, well, you know, everything got sort of foggy. What’s happening again?”
Kathryn exuded nothing but patience. “That can happen in the begi
nning. A lot of things won’t make sense, and then suddenly, they’ll make complete sense. Trust me on that. I came for you that night because you and I are friends now. Eternal friends,” she said with a light laugh. “I turned you into a vampire. Like me. Remember?”
She did remember. The memory and the horror of it nearly overwhelmed Angeline’s senses. She suddenly understood why Kathryn had taken her to this place. The urge to scream was staggering.
“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Kathryn said. “There are a lot of perks to immortality.”
Angeline said nothing, but she was sure that the look of terror she imagined in her eyes needed no explanation. The walk home, the bite, the capture, the first drink of blood that Kathryn had brought to her once she’d calmed down. She remembered the rapture that the first sips had provided and felt an alarming sense of ease.
“For example, you’re a lot stronger now. And the older you get, the stronger you’ll become. Your vision is crisper, clearer. Your hearing has improved. And you won’t die,” Kathryn said. She spoke the last sentence with a bright smile and a gleam in her eye.
“We’re indestructible?” Angeline asked. Her voice sounded a little loud in her ears. She couldn’t tell if it was the enhanced hearing Kathryn was talking about or a psychosomatic symptom.
Kathryn sat on the edge of the box spring and pulled her legs into a loose cross-legged position. “Not entirely. Most of the lore that you’ve heard isn’t true. But some of it is. If we’re turned to ash, either by fire or too much sunlight, or if we’re separated from our heads, that’s it. It’s over. But as long as you’re careful, those things are fairly easy to avoid.”
“Am I dead?” Angeline asked. The fear she’d pushed away earlier returned in full force.
Kathryn cocked her head. “Technically, yes.”
Angeline gasped, fighting for air that seemed to flee from her.
“But not really dead,” Kathryn said quickly. “Look at yourself. You’re moving and talking and able to think like any other living being. You’re just…different. Somewhere between living and dead.”
“I need to call my husband. He must be worried sick. And my parents! They’ve probably gone mad with nerves. Do you know where there’s a telephone close by?” Angeline tried to stand, but her legs turned to jelly. She sank down onto the box spring.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, kid. You can’t just jump up and expect to run a marathon. Your body is in transition. It’s a delicate process. And besides, you can’t talk to your husband. Or your family. Ever again. Remember?” Kathryn looked toward one of the cracked windows.
Angeline rubbed her face with her hands. Maybe this was all a nightmare. She just needed to wake up.
“It’ll become easier, I promise. You have a lot to learn, and luckily, a lot of time to learn it in. For now, lie down. You need your rest.”
Before Angeline could protest or ask more questions, Kathryn extinguished the lantern and they were once again bathed in blackness.
* * *
Angeline sat in the passenger seat of Kathryn’s Star Six Coupe, toying with the stitching on the seat. She leaned her head against the window while she waited for Kathryn to return.
She’d only been away from home for a few short months, but to Angeline, it felt like a lifetime. She tried to push the recurring sad thoughts away, thoughts of her parents, her friends, Benjamin. She’d only been afforded a brief good-bye with her loved ones before Kathryn had come back for her, and they couldn’t even know that it was good-bye. She closed her eyes, pushing away the guilt that consumed her when she thought of them searching for her. They must have been sick with worry. She fidgeted in her seat, willing the heaviness to retreat, even just for a while. It was easier to focus on the freedom and the abandon that this new life afforded her. And that was easiest when she was with Kathryn, her only beacon of consistency. Angeline felt some of her tension fade when she saw Kathryn approach the car.
“Hi,” Kathryn said, as she slipped into the driver’s seat. “For you.” She handed Angeline a nickel-plated thermos.
Angeline felt her body twitch with excitement as she unscrewed the lid. She gulped down the entire contents of the thermos in less than a minute.
“Easy, tiger. Although I can understand why. It’s not every day I’m able to take down a virile—”
“Stop!” Angeline interrupted. “You know I don’t want to know about it. It’s easier for me to pretend you purchased it at the market.”
Kathryn turned to Angeline, her eyes flashing. “But I didn’t. And you know I didn’t. You need to embrace your true self, Angeline. The quicker, the better.”
“I don’t know what you’re implying, but this is my true self, Kathryn. I didn’t ask you to make me like this. I’m not as callous as you, and I doubt I ever will be.”
Kathryn laughed bitterly. “We can talk about it again in a hundred or so years, and I’ll watch you eat your judgmental words.” She paused. “In fact, why wait? From this point on, you’re on your own. No more room service. You can hunt right along with me, or you don’t eat. Sound like a plan?”
Angeline sat straight up. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Kathryn, don’t do this. You don’t always have to be so righteous! I wasn’t questioning your methods, I was just saying that you have a callousness about you that I don’t have. Yet. I’m sure I will someday, but I can’t do what you do.” Angeline tucked a piece of hair behind her ear nervously. She’d seen a few glimpses of Kathryn’s ire over their short time together, but never directed squarely at her. It was usually at the humans.
“You can, and you will. You’re a killer, Angeline. It’s what we do. If you want to start on something small, like a rabbit, that’s fine. But you’ll have to move up eventually.”
“No!” Angeline yelled. “I can’t kill a rabbit! Do I have to kill someone to eat? Can’t I just, you know, take what I need and let them be?”
Kathryn looked thoughtful. “Yes. That’s what I do most of the time. But the hunger will kick in, and it’s a practiced resistance to stop when you’ve had your fill. It’s not as easy as it sounds.”
Angeline felt anxiety well up within her. “I’ll learn. But for now, let’s just keep it the way it is. I’ll earn my keep another way. I can steal or forage or do whatever you need me to do.”
Kathryn touched her knee gently. “No.”
Rage bubbled through her, a welcome substitute to the aching sadness of most of her days. “Then I’m done with you. You can’t treat me like I’m your underling or some idiot pupil.” Angeline opened the car door angrily and stormed off into the woods, unaware of where she would go, but not really caring.
Angeline gasped as Kathryn appeared directly in front of her. “You’re not done with me until I’m done with you. You really think you can make it out here on your own? In the wilderness of western Massachusetts, where everyone eyes you just a little differently and you make people just slightly uncomfortable? But no one can really pinpoint why, can they? They just know something is off. That you are off. And with your laughably squeamish stomach, you’ll starve before the month is out. I’ve seen a starving vampire, and trust me, you don’t want to live like that. The flesh actually dries up and flicks off like paper. What little blood is left starts to trickle out the pores. The lips peel back into a permanent, horrifying smile. And yet, they live. You think you can do it without me? Be my guest.” Kathryn flashed her teeth at Angeline, her lip curled into a snarl.
Angeline wasn’t sure if she had ever hated anyone as she hated Kathryn in that moment. She felt her soul wilt as she realized that Kathryn had a point. Angeline didn’t know how to survive in the wilderness, or even outside a city, really. She’d never even gotten the chance to go camping.
“You’re right, Kathryn,” Angeline said. She sighed sadly as she walked back to the shiny red coupe.
* * *
Thirteen days. Thirteen days, nine hours, and seventeen minutes since Angeline
had eaten. She curled up on the stiff bed inside the hotel room, her stomach cramping with pain. She was ravenous, but she decided that she’d rather die than drink from a living vein. Maybe death would be the best outcome she could hope for. Maybe if she proved to Kathryn that she wouldn’t eat, if she became a burden, Kathryn would leave her in the sunlight to die properly. She didn’t want to be the monster that Kathryn was showing herself to be. Besides, there wasn’t much for Angeline to live for anymore. Everything she’d loved had been taken away, and all the travel and power in the world couldn’t make up for the emptiness that she battled. But what if the abyss that awaited her was much worse? She didn’t necessarily believe in a fiery pit of an afterlife (though her former pastor would clutch his head in horror if he knew that), but that didn’t shake the concern of what if. And if it was just a never-ending void of blackness, was she ready to cast herself into it? Angeline chastised herself for being a coward. She just needed a damn drink. But Kathryn never wavered. Not once did she see the anguish in Angeline’s eyes and satiate her hunger with a simple thermos. She could have so easily erased the pain, but she chose not to.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” Kathryn asked as she sauntered into the room. Her colorful gingham dress swayed slightly as she tossed her cloche into a chair by the door. She fastened the chain and set a brown paper bag on the small table.
Angeline ignored her.
“I brought some food.”
Angeline didn’t even look up. The first time Kathryn had said that, Angeline nearly mauled her looking for it. But it turned out to be a container of shepherd’s pie that Kathryn had picked up at a local restaurant. Angeline ate it all, hoping against hope that it would relieve some of her hunger. Her taste buds hadn’t changed. The mashed potatoes and corn and peas glided down her throat like silk. But it did nothing for the hunger. If anything, it made it worse.
In the Shadow of Darkness Page 2