by Joe Humphrey
- 7 -
Caroline was looking at Charlie when the woman screamed. She didn’t look at the woman, and that was a mistake. Instead, she smiled at Charlie and nodded to the skinny man sitting on the floor with a broken wrist. Charlie shook her head emphatically, and Caroline nodded again, sternly and with authority.
That was when the woman who’d screamed ran for the bar. Caroline turned and made to grab her, but only managed to get ahold of the breeze the woman generated. Caroline hopped over the bar, surprisingly deft for a woman in big boots and a dress, and landed in front of the woman, who turned around holding a sawn-off shotgun. Caroline got her hand around the short barrel, dropping her razor and covering the end of the gun with her gloved hand.
The gun went off with a thundering boom, and Caroline’s right hand disappeared in a red cloud.
- 8 -
Charlie screamed and ran for the bar, finding a speed she didn’t know she had. To the other patrons, it happened in a fraction of a second. First Charlie was standing by the bathrooms, then she was behind Andrea. She kicked the woman squarely in the back, snapping her spine and sending her sprawling to the floor. Caroline, who was dumbly standing there looking at where her vaporized hand once was, jumped back, out of the way of Andrea’s now broken body. Charlie stomped on the woman’s neck, shattering it and killing her instantly, before going to Caroline. Caroline shook her head and looked to the back of the bar, where Dexter was running. Fresh anger washed over Charlie as she remembered how the man had thrown a beer bottle at them. He hated them because Charlie had kissed Caroline. Because Charlie loved Caroline, he hated them and wanted to hurt them.
Charlie picked up an unopened bottle of beer and threw it. The bottle went end over end and hit Dexter in the back of the head, sending him, and the bottle, to the floor. Charlie ran across the room and picked up a barstool. Dexter turned and looked up at her in time to get the legs of Charlie’s stool jammed into his face. Charlie pushed with all her strength and the stool shattered, caving in Dexter’s head in the process.
More yelling came from behind the jukebox, where Gary had dragged himself with his broken wrist. He screamed again when Charlie picked up the beer bottle, which had miraculously not broken yet. Charlie held the bottle by the neck and showed it to him. He screamed again and cringed away from her. Gary started crying and whimpering. Charlie stood there for a moment, just watching him cry, and felt the adrenaline pumping through her body. Suddenly the will to take this man’s life drained out of her. Seeing Dexter running away had triggered a reaction in her and she’d done what needed to be done. She’d acted on her feelings in a way she never had before, and standing there over the crying man, she realized she didn’t feel bad about killing Dexter, or the woman who’d shot Caroline. She didn’t feel anything about it. The only thing she felt was a relief, as though she’d finally let go of some burden.
A hand fell on her shoulder, and she knew it was Caroline. She felt the leather of her glove and turned. Caroline had a dishrag wrapped around what was left of her hand and the shotgun tucked under her arm.
“I love you,” she said. Charlie felt relief wash over her. She was still conflicted about having her kiss rejected. That’s when Caroline leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. Her lips were soft and cool, and for just a moment Charlie thought she tasted vanilla, and the years fell away, and Caroline was her guardian angel again. Charlie looked up at Caroline, a question in her eyes. Was this really happening? Caroline nodded, and Charlie hugged her, long and hard.
The sound of the shotgun barely registered as Caroline stretched her good arm over Charlie’s back and shot Gary in the face, flinging him back against the wall. Charlie didn’t care. For the first time in months, even years, she felt like she had a future. That they had a future.
- 9 -
The Cadillac sailed down the highway at a respectable fifty-five miles an hour. Charlie drove carefully and deliberately, not wanting to draw any attention to herself, just as Caroline would have done. The anxiety that was building in her regarding the people they’d just murdered was offset by her excitement about the way her relationship with Caroline was developing. A million thoughts ran through her head at once, all of them colored with the warm feelings of overwhelming love she felt for Caroline.
They didn’t talk much on the drive. Caroline cradled her hand against her chest, wrapping and rewrapping the dishtowel around it. The shotgun took the top half of her hand and all her fingers, leaving her with half a palm and a thumb, still wrapped in the remains of a now shredded white leather glove. It was already healing, but it would take a few days to completely regenerate.
When the Caddy drove past the sign welcoming them to Flagstaff, Charlie relaxed just a bit. They hadn’t seen any police or emergency response vehicles and the drive home was uneventful, but that didn’t stop Charlie’s fingers from hurting, gripped tightly around the steering wheel.
As they pulled into the garage, Caroline turned to Charlie and touched her on the shoulder with her good hand.
“Do you want to sleep in the bed tonight? With me, I mean?”
Charlie put the car into park and looked at Caroline, her mouth hanging open, trying to find the right words.
“I think so, yes. I don’t know what I can do, but I’d very much like to sleep next to you,” Charlie looked at Caroline carefully, gauging her expression. Caroline smiled, warm and kind.
“Good. I’d like that.”
“Can we snuggle?” Charlie asked. Caroline smiled and held up her wounded hand.
“I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise anything,” she said. Charlie smiled.
- 10 -
Caroline’s body was cool and soft against Charlie’s skinny frame. By the time they’d gotten in the house, showered, and properly bandaged Caroline’s hand, it was nearly time for the sun to come up. Caroline changed into a silk nightgown and Charlie stripped down to her underwear and they lay under the cotton sheet in Caroline’s bed. Charlie rested her head against Caroline’s breast and Caroline stroked her hair with her good hand.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, Charlie felt like she had a purpose. For four long years, Charlie had tried hard to be what Caroline needed her to be and often felt as though she’d come up short. Caroline wanted her to be a killer, and Charlie just wasn’t that. Or, she didn’t think she was. Now she wasn't sure. Charlie crushed that man’s head in the bar, and it barely registered in her mind. It wasn’t just that he deserved it, it was that she felt justified in doing it. He’d insulted and attacked them, and how dare he? She and Caroline were, for all intents and purposes, immortal, and that disgusting little troll had the audacity to try and tell them where they could and couldn’t be? Just thinking about it made Charlie angry again. They weren’t hurting anyone, dancing together and trying to have a moment, and he’d not only interrupted them but insulted them. No, that simply could not stand. Something was liberating about killing the two people she’d killed in the bar. Charlie finally understood what Caroline had been trying to teach her. The fact was that they were superior to the people they hunted. It wasn’t arrogance but simply true. It was more than their lifespan, and it was more than their ability to heal from wounds that would be fatal to a living person – it was that they understood their place in the universe. They could see the bigger picture, and participate in the game in a way that the living simply couldn’t. They functioned on a different level.
Charlie was getting a headache thinking about it, so she turned her attention to Caroline and how their relationship had shifted that night. She hadn’t planned on kissing Caroline, and while she’d thought about it before, she’d never really considered the possibility of taking their relationship into that place. It just hadn’t been an option.
They were partners, forever. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together, however many hundreds, or thousands of years that was. Charlie had a person. She finally had a person. Someone that loved her and wouldn’t
leave. She’d finally earned that.
Lying there under the sheet, feeling Caroline’s fingers flitting through her hair, Charlie fell asleep thinking about the adventures she and Caroline were going to share, together, as partners.
- 11 -
Their relationship had taken an unexpected turn, and Caroline was still processing it. Making abrupt changes like that was something Caroline was not at all used to. She liked to plan and strategize. She didn’t fly by the seat of her pants. So when the girl had kissed her, really kissed her, it caught Caroline off guard. They’d never been that way before. Hell, Caroline hadn’t been that way with anyone since the turn of the century. Even with Jack, who she’d trusted and partnered with, there was nothing romantic about their relationship.
Caroline hadn’t expected to find herself doing this dance again with anyone, much less with a teenaged girl she’d plucked out of the Utah desert. Their relationship had been strictly that of a master and apprentice, or so she’d thought. She knew that the girl was emotional and was looking for something from her, and while she hadn’t considered that it could be a romantic relationship, the idea didn’t surprise her once it’d been presented. It made sense, knowing Charlie and knowing the way she viewed the world and the people in it. Charlie was a romantic, and that was why it had taken her so damned long to get to the place she needed to be to start really hunting. Charlie had feelings for the people they hunted, and she steadfastly refused to evolve in those feelings. Or so Caroline had thought, until tonight.
Charlie surprised her a second time by killing, not one, but two people, seemingly without batting an eye. All it took was a kiss. Caroline thought that if that’s what it took, then she’d be willing to be that for Charlie. As far as she was concerned, it didn’t change their relationship much. Caroline was still the master and Charlie was still the apprentice. They were still just as devoted to each other as they had been before, though she supposed that for Charlie, the devotion may have increased, and that was just fine by Caroline.
After Las Vegas, Caroline decided to double down on her relationship with Charlie. Not in the way that Charlie had apparently done, but in that Caroline was devoted to protecting and preserving Charlie for as long as she needed to. Her California peers weren’t going to take her back, and she’d lost that opportunity. It was gone. She understood that now and was done trying. But that didn’t mean that she was stuck in the life she’d built for herself. Charlie was brand-new to this life, and Caroline was a free agent, capable of going almost anywhere and doing anything. Sure, there were certain rules about what she could and couldn’t do, and at some point, she may have to answer to a higher authority, but for the time being, she was free to go and do pretty much what she pleased. And she had someone to do that with. Someone she cared for and wanted to spend time with.
Sure, Charlie drove her crazy from time to time, but a lot of that came from the fact that they spent almost all of their time cooped up in Caroline’s house. She knew that was something that Charlie struggled with, and it was the reason they’d started going to bars and expanding their hunting grounds to further locales. Two years ago, they never would have gone to The Roadhouse. It was too unpredictable and too far from their home to risk. But Caroline was forcing herself to relax and try new things. For Charlie's sake and her own.
Plus, she was finding that she simply didn’t care much anymore about the rules and dogma of their kind. No one was watching them, and they answered to no one. Perhaps if they moved to a bigger city with a social structure in place then they’d have to be a little more responsible, but for the time being, they were on their own. And if they were, what did it hurt for them to love each other in whatever way made Charlie happy? It’s not like Caroline was incapable of affection. At least, she wasn’t incapable of going through those motions. And she did care for the girl. There was no denying that. She was rooting for the girl to make it.
Caroline remembered lying on the hood of the Cadillac, waiting for the sun to come up, and she shuddered. She’d almost gone through with it and left Charlie alone in the world. That was unacceptable. She thought about how she’d broken and rebroken her fingers while she’d waited for the sun, and had to actively resist the urge to flex fingers that were no longer there.
It wasn’t that she felt bad for Charlie, but that she felt a sense of duty that had been instilled in her over the years by her own masters, long before she’d been sent east. She respected what she was too much to insult the master/apprentice relationship. That was sacred to her. One of the few sacred things. No, she was in it for the long haul, and now that she had fully accepted that she was no longer going to be allowed back home, she was ready to invest all of herself into Charlie and creating a life for herself that she could feel good about.
Because what they’d been doing didn’t feel good. It was stagnant and boring. Besides, maybe adding a romantic component to their relationship could be fun. While Caroline hadn’t felt anything sexual towards anyone since she’d been flipped, she had to admit that kissing felt nice. She’d forgotten how nice it could be. No, there was nothing wrong with kissing.
Suddenly she wanted to be kissing the girl again, and she stroked Charlie’s hair a little more firmly and whispered to her.
“Charlie? Are you awake?”
Charlie didn’t respond. She didn’t move. She was asleep. That was okay. Caroline closed her eyes and let sleep take her as well.
- 12 -
Charlie moaned in her sleep. Her dreams, which had been muddled and vaguely ominous, suddenly solidified into visions of a carousel. The flavor of popcorn filled her mouth and she moaned again, remembering what it felt like to eat the salty, buttery snack. She could feel the sticky, sweet feeling of cotton candy melting in her mouth. Something was touching her lips and she opened her mouth, hoping for more flavors.
As she slowly rose to consciousness, she suspected that she was being fed blood, but wasn't sure. Something was touching her mouth and triggering those old Disneyland memories. Charlie tried not to question it and held onto those memories as tightly as she could.
- 13 -
Caroline let her blood-covered fingers slip between Charlie's parted lips. She ran the tip of her middle finger along the smooth front of the girl's teeth. Her lips were dark red with Caroline's blood. Charlie's mouth closed around her finger and she sucked gently, her tongue brushing against her fingertip. Caroline plucked her finger out of Charlie's mouth dipped it into the coffee cup that contained her blood. She rubbed the blood across Charlie's lips and again, the girl's lips parted and she let out a soft moan. Caroline allowed blood to drip from her finger into Charlie's mouth.
Charlie's eyes fluttered open and focused on her face. The girl's face lit up and she smiled.
"What are you doing?" Charlie asked, sitting up and rubbing her face. Her hand came away bloody from the errant drops that missed her mouth.
"An experiment. I think it worked. Did you find your old memories?"
Charlie smiled, her eyes were moist with tears, her mouth bloody.
"Yes, thank you," she said, looking at the coffee cup. Caroline held it out to her and she took a sip. Her eyes fell closed as she dropped back into her memory.
- 14 -
Caroline did her best to hide the pain in her face as she extended her fingers and then closed them into a fist. It was the fourth evening since the incident in the bar, and Caroline's hand was mostly restored, though it ached and she could feel that the delicate bones inside were still weak. She would have to be careful with it. She looked at Charlie and tried to smile, though she felt nauseated.
Charlie opened the cardboard box that contained a new pair of white leather driving gloves. When Caroline was noticeably struggling to get them on, Charlie scooted closer and helped. The leather was stiff and unyielding. They would need to be broken in. She'd had her previous pair for nearly twenty years and they were like a second skin to her. These new gloves would take some getting used to.
"T
hey look good," Charlie said, as Caroline held her hand out and examined the glove. Unlike her previous pair, these had a strap and snap around the wrist, and Caroline wasn't sure if she liked the look of it or not.
"I'm not convinced," Caroline said. Charlie smiled.
"I think they're cool," Charlie said, sitting back and picking up a magazine. Caroline wondered if Charlie actually did like them or if she was just being kind. Caroline had never explained her need for the gloves, and Charlie had never asked. It was as though the girl instinctively understood why she wore them.
Once the gloves were secure and snapped, she immediately felt better. The nervousness that had been crawling around inside her for the last few nights disappeared and she finally felt mostly whole again.
"Charlie?" Caroline asked, a hint of caution in her voice. Charlie spoke without looking up from her magazine.
"Yeah?"
"We should talk," Caroline said. Charlie looked at her.
"Okay," she said, putting down the issue of Rolling Stone she was reading. "What's up?"
"Where do you want this to go? I mean, what exactly do you need from what we're doing?"
"That's a big fucking question," Charlie said, her eyebrows furrowed.
"I know, but I think it's something worth discussing. I guess I just want to check in because things have been moving pretty fast recently and I'd like to know where you want this to go."