by Bree Wolf
“Are you alright?” Arnaud asked. “You look pale.”
Somewhere in a very distant part of her mind Quinn felt annoyed with people telling her that, but she barely noticed. Holding on tighter to the car door, she found the world swaying before her eyes, as her heartbeat raced her breathing for the right to kill her.
“You need to calm down,” Arnaud said. “You’re hyperventilating.”
She knew that, but there was nothing she could do about it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to. If he was going to kill her, she’d probably be better off unconscious.
The next instant her knees buckled and unable to keep herself upright, she went down. But before she hit the ground, he caught her, one arm around her waist, and pulled her back up. The other hand settled on the back of her neck, steadying her head which had rolled back.
Looking up at him, Quinn recognized the irony of the situation. Only the night before she had watched him hold Amanda like this.
His eyes searched her face, a curious gleam in them. “You’re a strange girl,” he whispered.
Then her lights went out.
Chapter 12 – Curse the Darkness
“Quinn, wake up!” her mother called. “You’ll be late.” Her door opened and she heard a rustling of skirts. “Or should I say a lot late.”
Cracking open an eye, she found her mother standing beside her bed, hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Maybe you should cut back on practice. In your condition it obviously takes too much out of you.”
“Coach Grainer said the same thing,” Quinn said without thinking, her mind too busy sorting through unanswered questions. Looking around her room, her eyes fell on her alarm clock. Her mother was right, she would be very late.
“I’m glad,” her mother said, looking relieved. “I always liked that woman. She is reasonable.” Her mother turned to leave but then stopped, looking back at her daughter. “Listen, since you’re not going to practice tonight, can you come by the diner after school and deliver the food for Mr. Patterson?”
Every other week Mr. Patterson, an elderly guy himself, had a bunch of other elderly guys come over and play poker, after which they would celebrate their winnings by indulging in unhealthy food.
“Sure.” Quinn wondered when exactly she had agreed to skip training.
When her mother had left, she sat up in bed, trying to remember what had happened last night. In particular how she had gotten home and why she wasn’t dead.
Minutes passed. When she was still unable to make sense of anything, Quinn pushed back the sheet to get dressed for school, but stopped there. She was still wearing her cheerleading uniform.
Her memory was a little fuzzy, but she clearly remembered Arnaud showing up when she’d left after practice. He had been terrifying on top of his usual obnoxious self, and she had been sure he would kill her. How she had escaped him, she didn’t know.
Pushing all the gloomy thoughts away, at least temporarily, Quinn got dressed in a hurry and rushed downstairs. Her parents still sat at the kitchen table, reading the paper.
“Good morning, honey,” her father said, barely looking up. Reaching for a roll, she returned his greeting just as half-heartedly. “Okay, I’m off. See you tonight.” She was almost out the door when her mother yelled for her to wait. “Just wanted to let you know that I’m proud of you.”
Quinn frowned. “And why is that?” she asked carefully.
Her mother smiled. “Arnaud just called,” and again Quinn’s heart skipped a beat, “he just wanted to say thank you for the apple pie. He says it was delicious.”
Forcing a smile, she said, “I’m glad,” and then quickly left before her mother could say another word.
Quinn was surprised to find her car in the driveway, for a moment wondering how it had gotten there since she didn’t remember driving home. However, that thought quickly got kicked aside by a more pressing matter. She had never given Arnaud her mother’s apple pie. So why would he say she had? Again she felt like he was playing with her. Maybe that was why he hadn’t killed her last night. Maybe he had some sadistic torture planned for her. She shivered at the thought. He was slowly integrating himself into her life, and he was doing it well. Everybody liked him. Her mother even loved him. If she were found dead, no one would suspect him.
Suddenly a thought struck her and Quinn put a hand to her neck, feeling for the same puncture marks she had seen on Amanda’s neck. Her fingers found nothing though, which was confirmed by a look in the rearview mirror. The skin at her neck was smooth, just like Amanda’s had been only minutes after she had seen Arnaud drink from her. Had he bitten her too? Quinn didn’t remember. If he had, it had happened after she had passed out. Not knowing scared her more than anything else.
That morning sitting in class, Quinn learned nothing about square roots or iambic pentameter or dominant heredity. Her thoughts circled around another subject altogether.
Sorting through the few movies she had actually seen dealing with vampires, Quinn tried to remember what their weaknesses were. It took her a long time though, because after every other thought she had to convince herself that she wasn’t going insane. The thing that was the most disturbing for her was not the fact that she was thinking about how to kill a vampire, but that it wasn’t meant to be a joke. Never in her life had she ever contemplated any of this – which in itself was a ridiculous thought, after all, who would have?
The first and maybe most obvious way of killing a vampire that came to her mind was by driving a wooden stake through his heart. Then there was beheading, which almost made her gag. Most movies also listed sunlight as one of their weaknesses. Try as she might, Quinn couldn’t remember ever seeing Arnaud during the day. In a weird way, that eased her mind a little, offering evidence that he indeed was what she thought him to be. Plus, he had even told her he was having UV resistant windows installed.
From an old movie she had seen with her grandpa, she remembered people hanging up garlic braids over their beds and around doorways. There was also holy water and crucifixes. For a moment she thought of silver bullets but then remembered that those were only used for werewolves.
Suddenly Quinn wondered when exactly she had made up her mind to kill Arnaud. She couldn’t remember. It hadn’t been a conscious thought but she knew she didn’t want to be afraid any more. He could show up any time he liked, terrorizing her, and she refused to be a victim. Thinking of how Coach Grainer had convinced Julia to take action and not be intimidated, Quinn drew new courage from her decision.
“Quinn? Quinn?”
“What?”
Julia looked at her with a worried frown on her face. “Maybe you should go home,” she suggested. “You look kinda out of it.”
Taking a deep breath, Quinn tried to look relaxed. “I’m fine. Really.”
“But you’re not coming to training tonight, are you?” she asked while waiting for Mr. Sanders to make his appearance.
Quinn nodded. “Actually, I am.” And before Julia could object, she added, “But I won’t train with you. I’ll sit this one out. There, happy now?”
Julia smiled. “Who got you to back down?”
“Coach Grainer and my mother,” she responded. “They happen to agree on this.”
“Aha,” Julia said. “Who would have thought?”
“It is highly annoying,” Quinn went on. “Especially since my mother snatched up the opportunity to have me help out with—” She slapped a hand to her forehead. “Damn it, I completely forgot!”
“What?”
Sounding defeated, Quinn said, “I promised my mother to deliver food to the Patterson’s tonight.” She put on a fake grin. “You know, since I’m not well enough to train I might as well carry heavy loads. That won’t stress me at all.”
Mr. Sanders chose that moment to walk in and call everyone to attention, cutting off Quinn’s ranting. Unable to deal with her own issues, Quinn felt incredibly annoyed when class was finally over. That feeling didn’t dissipate over lunch b
ecause Amanda was in a particularly chatty mood. Not even getting her blood sucked out could shut her up.
After what had happened to her, Quinn had felt sorry for Amanda. Now she was back to simply being fed up with the girl though, and when an idea struck, Quinn didn’t hesitate.
It didn’t take any convincing on her part to get Amanda to take care of the food delivery for her. On the contrary, Amanda seemed to be honored to have been chosen. So after class, Quinn handed Amanda her keys and made her promise to drive carefully. The jeep was old and didn’t take to reckless driving. Heading to the gym with the rest of her team, Quinn watched Amanda pull out of the parking lot, not feeling the least bit guilty.
Seeing their routine from an outside perspective gave Quinn a deeper insight into how each move was perceived by the audience. Most of the two hour training she spent not far from Coach Grainer’s side, debating the pros and cons of integrating another lift into their routine. However, with her not participating and Amanda out on an errand, they had to rearrange other positions to make up for that. But in the end everything worked out. They even came up with a few new moves inspired by the whole team and everyone was happy – those who had voted for a new routine and those who had wanted to stick to the old one. Sometimes a compromise was a beautiful thing.
“You look better,” Julia commented as they walked down the grassy slope leading from the gym to the parking lot. “Not so pale any more. And kinda happy, I have to say.” Quinn nodded. “I am. It feels good to laugh and just be … me,” she ended. “I’ve been so freaked out lately. But who knows? Maybe it isn’t as bad as it seems.”
“What is?” Julia asked.
Quinn hesitated, her pre-training life slowly catching up with her. “Eh…”
“Is it Amanda?” Julia offered.
To avoid lying completely, she said, “Partly. There’s just so much craziness going on in my life right now. It’s nothing big though. I just need to figure out a way how to deal with it.” That was maybe a white lie.
“Need any help?”
Stopping to look at her friend, Quinn said, “I’d like to try this on my own, but I promise I’ll say something if I need you.” She desperately hoped she wouldn’t need to.
Quinn wanted this craziness to be over and besides, if there was nothing she could do, what were the chances that Julia could.
A low buzzing from inside her purse drew their attention.
“That’s yours,” Julia said when Quinn was already fishing for her cell phone.
Putting it to her ear, she said, “Mom? What’s up?”
“Quinn, are you alright?” Her mother’s voice held barely contained panic.
Frowning she answered, “Sure. Why are you asking?”
“Where are you?” her mother asked instead of answering her question.
“At school,” Quinn said feebly. She knew her mother had to be mad about her getting Amanda to deliver the food in her stead. Her mother was big on taking care of your own responsibilities. “Mom, listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’ll be home in a few minutes and then you can yell at me all you want. How’s that sound? I’m just waiting for Amanda to get back with my car.”
For a moment her mother didn’t say anything.
“Mom?”
“Listen, can you get someone else to drive you home?” her mother asked, a strange pitch in her voice as though she was holding back tears.
“Mom, are you alright? What’s going on?” Quinn asked, getting worried.
“Just get home,” her mother said.
“Alright, see you in a bit,” Quinn said, hanging up.
Julia looked at her with an equally confused expression on her face. “Something wrong?”
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t say. Listen, can I catch a ride with you?”
“Sure. But what about your car? Isn’t Amanda bringing it back?”
“I don’t know. My mom sounded really strange,” Quinn said. “Maybe she had an accident.”
“Your mom?”
“No, Amanda.” Quinn’s eyes opened wide. “Maybe she totaled my car.” Angry, she kicked the grass. “I’ll kill her.”
Julia’s mom was already waiting in the parking lot, baby Luke strapped in his car seat.
“Why did you bring him?” Julia asked, tickling her son joyfully. “Where is dad?”
There was a dark look on Mrs. Monroe’s face. “He was called away,” was all she said.
“I knew it,” Quinn exclaimed. “That freaky girl got my car totaled.”
Assuming the worst, Quinn slumped back in her seat and patiently waited until Mrs. Monroe stopped on her family’s driveway. Opening the door, she saw her parents rushing out to meet her.
“Thanks for bringing her home,” Quinn’s father said to Mrs. Monroe, who just nodded and without another word backed out of the driveway.
All the while, Quinn was being crushed in one of her mother’s life-threatening embraces. “What’s going on?” she asked, gasping for breath. “Where’s my car?”
“Come inside first,” her father said, gently loosening his wife’s arms from his daughter. “We’ll explain.”
Groaning, Quinn walked into the kitchen. “Just tell me how bad it is? Will I need to get a new one? Or is it fixable?”
Her parents sat down opposite her, both taking a deep breath.
Looking from one to the other, Quinn suddenly felt a shiver run over her. “C’mon, tell me already. You’re starting to freak me out.”
“It’s not the car, honey,” her mother said. But when a hint of relief started to show on Quinn’s face, she continued, “It’s worse.”
“What do you mean ‘worse’?” Quinn asked, frowning.
Wringing her hands as though unsure how to go on, her mother finally said, “It’s Amanda. She was attacked.”
Quinn’s eyes opened wide. “What?”
Her mother nodded. “I’m really sorry, sweetie, but … she’s dead.”
Chapter 13 – She Who Fails to Plan
Almost the whole town switched from bright, cheerful summer colors to the depressingly sad black of mourning. Only the sun shone as bright as ever, making the dark clothing even harder to bear. A grief counselor came to the high school that Friday, speaking to those who felt the need to communicate their grief and confusion. The teachers encouraged all students to speak their minds and not hold back. All normal classroom activities were abandoned to address what had happened the night before.
From her parents Quinn learned that Amanda had been attacked after returning to the diner to take back the cooling units that were used in this heat to preserve perishable food. But as much as she pried, they refused to give her details on what exactly had happened. They said it had been gruesome. That weekend when Quinn couldn’t bear being alone with her thoughts any longer and went over to Julia’s house, they overheard Sheriff Monroe and his wife address the case as well. Shaken to his core at what he had seen, a girl his daughter’s age lying dead in a dark alley, the sheriff confided in his wife, working through his own grief.
“I still can’t believe it,” he said, rubbing his temples. “She was just a little girl. Who would do something like that? I’ve been sheriff for more than twenty years and nothing like this has ever happened here.”
“I know,” his wife said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s hard to believe that someone in this town would do something like this.”
Sheriff Monroe stood up, shaking his head. “Don’t say that! I don’t even want to contemplate that! It could have been someone from out of town. Someone who just passed through. Someone new to the area. I do not want to believe that someone we’ve shared our lives with for years would do such a thing.” His voice was vehement but very emotional.
“Neither do I,” his wife said, taking his hand and pulling him next to her onto the couch. “But we need to keep an open mind. You need to. Or you might miss something that will tell you who did this.”
He nodded. “I know.
I won’t rule anything out. It’s just … you didn’t see her. There was so much blood. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that.”
Silently returning to Julia’s room, they just sat there for a while, not knowing what to say. There was nothing to say. They were sad. Amanda had been a friend. But they were not broken up because they hadn’t been close. What shocked them more was the cold-bloodedness with which she had been killed. If even the sheriff got choked up about it, it had to have been awful.
Luke was whiney that day, whimpering and crying a lot. Gone was the light that usually shone through his eyes.
“He knows that something’s wrong,” Julia said, gently rocking him from side to side. “He can feel it.”
Sensing that Julia needed time with her son, Quinn left, heading home on foot since her car was still parked behind her parents’ diner. She wasn’t sure if she would want to drive it again. What was really on her mind though, when she walked down Laurel Street was the question of who had killed Amanda.
If she was honest, she knew that her mind had already reached a conclusion. Amanda had been killed in the same back alley where only a night before Arnaud had drank her blood. Quinn didn’t really know what had been cause of death, but from what Sheriff Monroe had said it could have been blood loss. All of these thoughts pointed Quinn into one direction. Arnaud. It had to have been Arnaud. Plus, he was new to town. So it had to be him. There was no one else. The only question that remained was what she was going to do about it.
Only now did Quinn realize that the thoughts she’d entertained before of how she might go about killing Arnaud had only been just that. Thoughts. Like plans that you come up with one second and discard the next. Nothing you seriously see yourself doing. But now things had changed. Now that someone had actually died, Quinn knew that it was her responsibility to do something. Of course, she could tell someone. Someone who would be better equipped to handle this situation. The only problem was that no one would believe her. In the end Quinn knew that if someone was to do something, it would have to be her.