The Light Keeper

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The Light Keeper Page 5

by Gabriella Lepore


  “I’m not going to hurt you.” I edged closer until I was at the desk. “I have a car outside. We can get away. You’ll have to drive, though.” I offered my hand, and he warily accepted it. Our fingers touched.

  All of a sudden his pallid face flushed pink and his round blue eyes came abruptly alive. He dropped my hand and stumbled out from behind the desk. I led the way and we set off towards the parking lot.

  Total hero. I basked in the glory.

  We closed in on the El Camino. Foolproof plan, done. Plus I had a driver to boot. I was about to turn and hand the keys over to Jitters when I heard something behind me, a rumbling, guttural sound.

  I spun around and did a double-take.

  Jitters was gone.

  No, that’s wrong. He was still in there somewhere, I was sure—wild tufts of auburn hair assured me of that—but his scared, sallow face had been eclipsed by bruised, swollen features. His eyes were wild now, pupils black and engorged, and saliva dripped from his teeth. His face looked like some grotesque Halloween mask. Then, right before my eyes, his shoulders hunched and he began to pant. A black tongue sagged from his mouth.

  What I was looking at was neither human nor animal.

  My heart plummeted. I hadn’t been leading him to the parking lot after all. I’d been chased.

  There wasn’t much space between us now. I tried to run, but he struck out at me, clipping me across the back of the head and sending me hurtling forward. I was thrown against the car, and my palms rattled the side window with such force that I nearly went through the glass.

  Jitters spun me around so we were face to face. His body shook, but not in the timid way it had before. Now he trembled with surging, insatiable hunger.

  I was pressed up against the car with nowhere to run.

  He snarled, revealing his black gums and yellow serrated teeth. His head dipped to my shoulder and he sniffed at my skin. Then, to my horror, he took a strand of my hair between his teeth and tasted it.

  “No!” I screamed. My eyes began to smart as I tried to pry my hair from his jaws. I managed to yank the strand free, but I was still trapped. Jitter’s head bowed to my shoulder again, his breath cool and wet.

  I cried out in pain as the cold, sharp stab of his teeth penetrated my skin, just above my clavicle.

  Pinned in place, I looked up at the sky as the full lustrous moon slunk behind a bank of mist.

  This was it.

  He was going to kill me.

  Chapter Four

  The Wolf, the Cyborg, and the Little Old Lady

  In all my sixteen years, I had only been bitten once before this. Somewhere between pre-school and pre-teen, I’d petted a stray dog and received a nip on the hand in return. When Jitters’ fangs plunged into my shoulder, that traumatic childhood memory came rushing back. It was the same sharp sting, the quick intake of breath, the realization that I was in danger. All those years ago, I’d screamed and cried for Astra. Now Astra wasn’t here to save me. And this wasn’t a stray, it was a…something else.

  There, in the dark Motel Pleasant parking lot, I experienced the piercing sensation all over again. Ten-fold, this time. I was suddenly awake, hyper-aware. It was as though a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown over me. Something inside of me snapped and I was propelled into survival mode.

  I had to fight back.

  The metallic edges of Jake’s car keys dug into my palm, secured inside my clenched fist. I took a deep breath and jabbed the key as hard as I could into Jitters’s stomach. He let out a moan and reared away from my neck.

  The fang came away from me with a sickening slurp, but I was still blocked against the El Camino. The door handle pressed into my spine and Jitters’s arms caged me in as he gripped the car, doubled over in pain.

  I raised the keys for the second time and stabbed them into Jitters’s forearm.

  He yelped in pain and drew his arm into his chest.

  I seized my opening, slipping past him and scrambling to the other side of the car.

  From across the yard, I heard clapping.

  I turned quickly to see Jake leaning casually against a pillar in the outer corridor of the motel.

  “Nice move,” he said. “Maybe I did underestimate you, after all.”

  “Hey, Jake,” I managed.

  “Hey, Witch. You are so predictable.”

  I ignored him as I fumbled in my attempt to open the car door. The handle gave way. But the door had scarcely opened a crack before Jitters descended on me. He knocked the keys from my hand and sent them skidding across the shadowy parking lot.

  “Well, this is depressing,” Jake went on. “I wake up to find that my witch is running away with some dog. I’d be heartbroken if I had a heart.”

  I made a run for it, towards the road and away from both of them. “If you had a heart I wouldn’t be in this mess at all!” I yelled over my shoulder. However, as was the way of my unlucky night, I didn’t get far before Jitters grabbed me and dragged me back to the car.

  His arms locked around me from behind and his breath skimmed my neck in hot, damp rasps. To my dismay, I felt another sharp nip on my shoulder. I let out a gasp.

  “Bad dog,” Jake scolded, jogging over to us. “No respect,” he said to me. “He knows you’re mine.”

  “I’m not yours,” I snapped, struggling to loosen myself from Jitters’ iron clasp as we grappled against the El Camino. “Get off me.”

  “Don’t bother trying to reason with him,” Jake advised. “He’s mostly animal now.”

  “A little help here?”

  Jake intercepted. He slammed his palm into Jitters’ throat, knocking him back against the car and freeing me from his clutches.

  With Jitters on the floor writhing in pain, I found myself suddenly face to face with Jake. His efficiency had taken me by surprise, and as he stood tall with the wind gently toying with his hair, he looked the picture of a gallant war hero. But I couldn’t afford to stand around swooning over my kidnapper, not when I had escaping to do. Jake may have saved me from Jitters, but I was going to save myself from him.

  Dropping to the ground, I pounced on the car keys, then flung open the driver’s door and scrambled up into the seat. My hands were trembling as I jammed the key into the ignition and flipped on the headlights, momentarily blinding Jake and Jitters as they both stared at me from outside.

  All I had to do was figure out how to drive and I’d be outta there.

  I turned the key and the engine roared to life. Victory!

  The car jolted forward…then stopped dead.

  Silence.

  Jake frowned at me from outside.

  I tried again. The engine rumbled to life. I inched forward. The engine stopped.

  While Jitters looked on, evidently bewildered by the whole scene, Jake swung open the passenger door and slid into the seat beside me.

  “No!” I wailed, shoving at his shoulder with both hands. “Go away! I’m escaping.”

  “Really? You realize you’re not moving, right?”

  I groaned.

  “This is the most pitiful getaway I’ve ever been forced to witness,” he added, crossing his arms and leaning his feet up against the dash.

  “The car’s broken!”

  “You need to use the clutch.”

  I jiggled the key again and grasped the wheel as tightly as I could, to no avail.

  “The clutch,” Jake repeated, pointing towards my feet.

  I began pressing my feet down on pedals at random.

  Beside me, Jake turned his attention to the glove compartment, where he began casually rummaging for CDs. He sifted through them with mild interest while I jolted the car forwards bit by bit.

  There was a thud above us and the car shook as Jitters sprung down onto the hood. Like a beast, he clawed at the windscreen, his nails screeching across the pane. His bloodshot eyes fervently locked on mine. I stared at him through the sheet of glass between us. He was contorted, deformed. While still human, he was embodying some
thing feral as he jerked his body wildly and clawed and pounded on the windscreen.

  Jake leaned across me and slapped his palm against the steering wheel. The horn blared out in one continuous blast.

  “Bro, get off the hood!” Jake shouted. “This car is a classic.” He honked the horn again, three times in a row, and then turned to me. “Drive, already. I can’t deal with scratches on the paint work.”

  I turned the key again and we all lurched forward a few more inches.

  “You’re not even in gear,” Jake sighed as he slid a disc into the CD player. A loud guitar solo erupted from the speakers. I switched it off immediately.

  “So put me in gear!”

  “Foot on the pedal.”

  I slammed my foot down.

  Jake rolled his eyes. “That’s the break. Use your left foot.”

  I did as ordered.

  Jake took hold of the shift stick and jostled it. “Alright, now gradually bring your left foot up and push your right foot down on the gas.”

  Again, I followed his directions. As I did, Jake shifted gear again and I began to slowly roll across the parking lot, with Jitters still clinging to the hood.

  “I’m driving!” I gasped.

  Jake glanced at the speedometer. “Technically, yes. But we haven’t hit walking speed yet. Put your foot down. Your other foot.”

  Clinging to the ten and two position, I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal and we shot across the parking lot like a torpedo. Jake’s CDs scattered onto the floor, and Jitters was catapulted from the hood.

  “Turn, turn, turn!” Jake shouted, gripping the dashboard as we zigzagged towards the motel.

  I spun the wheel and we shot out onto the bypass. Fortunately, the dark road was empty, allowing me plenty of space to corkscrew. Before I had the chance to rejoice, however, the car jerked and we began to lose speed.

  Jake glanced over his shoulder. “Tailgater.”

  I checked the rear view mirror. Jitters was clinging to the bumper, playing tug of war with our car. I pressed the accelerator right to the floor, but the dial on the speedometer was dropping rapidly. Tires screeched and the smell of burning rubber filled the air.

  I sucked in my breath. “He’s too strong.”

  “Werewolves usually are—especially when you get them all excited.” Jake fixed me with an accusing glare.

  Werewolves? Okay, this was too much.

  “You temptress, Witch.”

  I blushed. “I’m not a temptress!”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Well someone got him all hot and bothered and it sure as hell wasn’t me.”

  The car continued to slow. Jitters let out a howlish moan, which was met by a resounding echo of howls coming from all directions.

  Jake grimaced. “Nice. Now he’s calling for back-up.”

  My heart started to race. “There’s more of them? What will they do to us?”

  “Us? It’s not me they’re after. You’re on your own with this one.”

  “What?” My voice went up an octave. “I thought you were meant to be protecting me so that I can save the Hidden Mountains and the Light House.”

  “Not at the expense of my own skin. Besides, traitor, you were quick enough to jump out of my bed and into his, and now you want me to come to your rescue?”

  “Who said anything about beds?”

  “It’s a turn of phrase.”

  I slammed my palm on the steering wheel, accidently beeping the horn. It sounded oddly chipper at such a tense moment. “Well, thanks a lot for ruining my life.”

  Jake smiled.

  “It’s not funny!”

  “Oh, relax. I’m just messing with you. I’m not going to leave you. I have too much pride for that. Take your foot off the accelerator.”

  “But we’ll stop!” The car was still battling the pull of the alleged werewolf.

  “Trust me.”

  I took a deep breath and released the pedal. The car immediately gave in to the force from behind and rocketed backward, passing over a sizable hump on its way. I let go of the steering wheel in shock and the car stopped with a splutter.

  I stared at Jake.

  “Oh no,” I whispered. “Did we…?”

  “What, kill it?” Jake asked brazenly. “No way. They’re tougher than that. But it’ll keep him quiet for a minute or two.” He was already clambering over me and jostling me into the passenger seat. His hand grazed my waist as he bumped me out of the way.

  My breath caught.

  “Sorry,” he said, smiling a little.

  I shook him off, swiftly buckling my seatbelt while Jake resumed his rightful place in the driver’s seat. The car sprung to life and we tore off—this time in a straight line. Only briefly did I glance in my mirror at the dark road behind us.

  Jitters was already gone.

  We drove for the rest of the night. I must have drifted off to sleep on a few occasions, because I’d be listening to the words of the music spilling from the stereo, then I’d blink and we’d be halfway through an entirely different song. This happened over and over again, until the colors of dawn gently awoke me from my slumber. One minute we were in darkness, silent in each other’s company, and the next, we were lit by the pinkish blush of morning.

  I stretched out my legs and resigned to waking up. Although we hadn’t spoken during the night, it seemed like Jake had come to inhabit some abstract part of my subconscious as I slipped in and out of dreams. I recalled one hazy memory in which Jake had glanced over, and I was vaguely aware of him switching the stereo from its usual pound of heavy rock to something softer, lulling me deeper. In the glare of the morning, that, along with everything else that had happened over the past twenty-four hours, seemed like nothing more than the product of a surreal dream.

  I turned to him now, sweeping the hair from my face. His deep brown eyes were trained on the road, his expression unreadable.

  “You’re awake,” he said without looking at me.

  “Mm-hmm.” I sat up stiffly and combed my fingers through the tangles in my hair.

  “You look fine,” said Jake, though his focus remained glued to the road.

  “Yeah, right.” I worked on a particularly knotted section of hair.

  “I mean it,” he said. “You look good.” The instant the words had left his mouth, he quietly sucked in his breath as though he wanted them back.

  I dropped the strand of hair that I’d been unpicking. “Good?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been upgraded. A second ago I was just fine.”

  Jake frowned. “Same thing.” He cranked the music up a notch. We were back to thrash metal.

  “Thanks for the compliment,” I said above the music.

  His lips pursed. “It wasn’t a compliment.”

  “Then what was it?”

  He still wouldn’t look at me. “Nothing. It was a nothing.”

  “Okay,” I answered, smiling to myself. “Well, thanks for the nothing.” I turned away from him now, blinking in the light of the new day. Beyond the window the trees were gone, replaced with vistas of rolling hills that were lit by the subdued colors of the rising sun. We were on higher ground now, moving swiftly along a hillside road. A forest of fir trees swept below us, and a pale grey mist clung to the deep green blanket of tree tops. Ahead, much nearer now, the Hidden Mountains loomed.

  I hugged my arms around myself for warmth. “Are you tired?” I asked Jake. I may have failed miserably at my last attempt at escape, but he’d been driving all night and it would only be a matter of time before he stopped again—hopefully sooner rather than later. Just because I’d had a few warm and fuzzy dreams about him didn’t change the fact that he was a crazy kidnapper.

  “No,” he answered.

  “But you only slept a little at the motel.”

  He smirked to himself.

  “What? What’s with the smug face?”

  “You’re just so naïve, that’s all. I didn’t sleep at the motel. I just wanted you to think I did.”

&
nbsp; I stared at him for a moment. A humiliating flashback of using his legs as a pillow brought a flush of color to my cheeks.

  Clutching at straws, I asked, “You didn’t sleep…at all?”

  “Nope.”

  It all suddenly became painfully clear. “You set me up? You knew I was planning to escape?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why did you let me get so far? I nearly got away.”

  “I wouldn’t have let you get away. Trust me, the situation was under control. Anyway, I knew you’d go for the werewolf first. You’re too obvious.”

  There was that word again.

  “Werewolf,” I echoed aloud, hearing it from my own lips. The all-too-vivid picture of Jitters in his latter form made my stomach turn.

  “I thought it was better for you to see it with your own eyes.”

  “How considerate of you.” I touched a raised bump on my head where I’d knocked it against the car. It felt tender.

  Jake attempted a sympathetic smile. “Are you alright?”

  “No.” My fingers moved to a sore spot on my shoulder. “He bit me,” I remembered suddenly. Panic began to rise in my chest. Weren’t werewolf bites supposed to be the cause of werewolves?

  Jake glanced my way. “Show me.”

  I eased my top to one side, exposing the red mark on my shoulder.

  Jake took his eyes from the road for just long enough to give my wound a cursory glance.

  “Am I a werewolf now?” I asked weakly.

  He grinned. “Nah. You’ll be fine.”

  “But what about the myth that if a werewolf bites you, you’ll turn into one of them?” I still wasn’t sure I believed in werewolves, but I knew what I saw. And what I saw was certainly not human.

  Jake ran a hand along his jawline. “It can happen,” he admitted. “But it’s not that simple. The wolf would have to bite with intent.”

  “What does that mean?” My mouth went dry. “It seemed pretty intentional to me.”

  “Intent to turn you into one of its kind,” Jake elaborated. “It would have needed to bleed you to the cusp of death and then infect you, forcing your body to rely on the werewolf’s blood to heal. Or something like that.” He rested one hand on the steering wheel and lifted his T-shirt with the other. “Check this out for a werewolf bite.” A prominent circular scar branded the muscles of his stomach.

 

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