by Willow Rose
I shrugged. "He's gone."
"That's not good with all he has seen," Amy said.
I bit my lip. "Do you think he'll tell anyone?"
"Do I think he will tell anyone…are you kidding me? He's gonna tell everyone he meets."
"That's what I was afraid of."
"But they won't believe him," she said. "Think about it. Would you believe a story like that?"
"Probably not." I chuckled as we walked toward Melanie the wolf. We crawled onto her back, and she started to run back with us toward Shadow Hills.
"Thanks, by the way," I said addressed to them both. "How did you know I needed help?"
"You think you can run a huge blood drive bus down our quiet street with huge screaming vampires rushing after it without us knowing something was wrong?" Amy said. "You should know us better than that by now."
"I guess," I said with a chuckle. "I guess so."
Chapter Forty-Eight
Sam was shaking as he walked through the streets. He wanted to run but didn't have the strength. His heart was throbbing in his chest, and images of vampires, dragons, and wolves rushed before his eyes, terrifying him to the core. There had been so much blood. So incredibly much blood.
He didn't know where he was going and, so far, he didn't care. All he knew was that he needed to get away, to get as far away as possible from what he had just witnessed and, after days strapped to a chair, he just wanted to be moving, to keep his legs moving even though he didn't have much strength. He had lost a lot of blood and felt dizzy, but still, he moved on.
He wondered about his parents. They had to be devastated with worry about him. He knew his mother had to be crushed. She was the worrying type, the one to lie awake all night thinking about all the ways Sam could get hurt or get himself in trouble, whereas Sam's father was the one to sleep through it all, telling her the boy will be all right.
It would even sometimes turn into an argument where his mother would yell at his dad for not caring enough, while he told her she needed to relax. And that wasn't a remark Sam's mother usually took well. That was usually when the yelling began.
Sam panted and leaned against a fence. He looked at the house behind it. The windows were dark. Whoever lived in there was probably sound asleep. Did he dare to knock? To ask for help?
Maybe someone can call your mom for you? Maybe you can borrow the phone?
Sam stared at the house, then shook his head. He didn't dare to. His clothes were soaked in blood from the crash. No one would let him in. He realized that he knew this neighborhood. He wasn't that far from his home. If he kept walking, he might be able to make it back to his house.
If he could walk that far.
Sam took in a deep breath and continued down the street, every now and then stopping and holding onto a fence or a mailbox while regaining his strength to keep going. It wasn't easy, and he felt dizzy and so extremely thirsty as he pressed on, stumbling down the street and into another one. He stayed close to the streetlamps to not be in the darkness. He had become terrified of the darkness. So many nights he had been in the back of that bus, strapped to that awful chair, and praying, hoping that someone would find him and help him get free. The terror of waiting for the next time they would come and drain his blood still lingered with him. He could even still hear their laughter in his mind.
Sam cried in pain and terror as he staggered toward yet another fence and held on to it before continuing. As he turned another corner, he realized he had made it. This was his street; his childhood home was within sight. This was the street where Lucy Miller fell on her bike and broke her tooth back in fifth grade. This was the street where his best friend Bill had played with homemade fireworks and blown off his finger when they were in eighth grade. This was the street where Sam had met Alice for the first time when he was in seventh grade. Alice, the girl he had loved since he first laid eyes on her and whom he still loved. Alice, the girl who never looked in his direction, not until the day when he had given her the jeans he had bought with the money he had won by gambling. After that, she had been all over him, and he had spent most of his earnings giving her presents before he lost it all again and she lost interest in him.
"Never again," he mumbled to himself as he pushed through and walked a few more steps toward his childhood home and the great magnolia tree in the front yard, where his dad had built a tree house for him in third grade.
"I am never gambling again."
He chuckled happily at the thought of his mother and the prospect of seeing her face again as he approached the driveway, when he spotted something or was it someone?
Sam squinted his eyes to see better as the figure approached him on the street.
At first, Sam felt fear rush through him once again, afraid it was the vampires once more when he exhaled relieved.
It was just a woman.
Once again at ease, Sam turned his head to look at his childhood home that he had thought he would never see again. While he was strapped down in that awful chair inside the bus, he would have even been willing to bet money that he never would.
When the woman's claws pierced through his skin and stabbed through his heart, her glaring red eyes staring into his, all Sam could think about was how sad it was that he would have won that bet.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The accident involving a Big Red Bus was all over the news the next morning. I watched it in my room, listening carefully to what was being said, especially by those calling themselves eyewitnesses. Since it all happened late, most people in the quiet neighborhood were asleep, but one woman told the reporter that she had been awakened by the crash and looked out the window. She had seen people coming out of it, but since she couldn't find her glasses, she wasn't sure what they looked like or even how many there were. The police then told the reporter they knew the bus had been stolen a couple of months ago and that they believed it was just boys being boys, stealing the bus and racing in it before crashing. The reporter then showed a number you could call if you had any information that could help with the case.
I sighed, relieved that no one had mentioned anything about vampires, dragons, or wolves and turned off the TV. I took a shower, grabbed a pair of jeans and a top, and got dressed. I looked at my reflection. I had been able to wash the blood away from my face where I hurt my head, and I could cover the wound with my hair if I pulled it down over my forehead. My leg was still hurting terribly after the crash, but I had to hide it from my family. I was supposed to run that half marathon with my mom next week, and I had to admit I wasn't sure I would be able to. I just needed to figure out what to tell my mom.
My mom called and told me that breakfast was ready, and I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where I found my three cousins sitting by the counter, eating.
I paused when I saw them. Louie had a deep wound across his cheek that I assumed he had gotten from the meeting with Melanie's claws. All three looked up at once, and they stared at me.
"Honey," my mom said. "Right on time. I baked. Kale and carrot whole-wheat flatbread. Your cousins love it."
I stared at the triplets, images of them approaching me with hunger in their eyes flickering before my eyes. My heart went crazy in my chest.
"Your cousins aren't having a good morning," my mother said. "Someone stole their bus last night." She paused and placed a plate with bread in front of me, next to Dewey.
"Say…you don't happen to know anything about that, do you?" she asked.
My eyes grew wide. "Know anything about what?"
"Robyn," my mom sighed. "Please try and pay attention when people are talking to you. There is nothing worse than having to repeat one’s self. I am talking about their bus being stolen. Do you know anything about it?"
I lifted my eyebrows. "And why would I?"
She didn't answer. She poured something into a cup for me that looked blobby and green. Then she served it for me, her eyes examining me closely. Anxiety was about to erupt inside of me as I felt th
at all eyes were scrutinizing me. Did she know? Had they told her? Was she waiting for me to come clean on my own? Or had they maybe kept what had happened to themselves? Because they were embarrassed? Because she would be mad at them for creating attention once again?
It was a possibility. And it was a chance I was willing to take.
I grabbed the chair and sat down, then drank the green stuff my mom had made without showing her how awful it tasted.
"Well, at least we're rid of that hideous monster in front of our house," she said and grabbed a drink for herself. "It was quite the eyesore."
Chapter Fifty
It was the weekend, and both of her parents were home. Usually, that would make Amy the happiest girl on earth since she thought weekends were the loneliest times of all, but this particular Friday afternoon, she wasn't feeling very joyful. Her father was still fighting for his life and had been down for several days in a row now. She feared he wasn't going to pull out of it.
Her mother was struggling too, and it made it tough for Amy to be at the house. Even though she had Melanie to keep her company, she needed a break every now and then from watching her mother sit there by her father's side, sobbing and waiting for him to get better.
So, Amy went for a walk. She needed a break. She needed to get away at least for a little bit. Melanie was sleeping as she often did during the day since she was so active at night. Plus, she was still getting her strength back from being held captive at Mr. Aran's house. Amy took Billie Jean with her for her walk and had her on a leash as she walked toward the lake behind their neighborhood. She felt a raindrop hit her cheek and wondered if she should have brought an umbrella but decided to pull her hoodie over her head instead. It was just a drizzle and would probably be over soon. Besides, walking in the rain kind of suited her mood. Billie Jean seemed thrilled to get out too, and Amy wondered if she enjoyed being away from the puppies, to get a little break too. Being a mother was a lot of work, even for a dog.
They walked up to the lake, then found the trail leading around it. Amy loved walking there and had done this ever since she was a child and they had moved to Shadow Hills. There were many stories about this lake, and Amy loved each and every one of them, but mostly she loved the story of how it was believed that the lake hadn't always been there, but it had been created by a wizard and used to drown his wife in because she had cheated on him. It was said she would be seen on moonlit nights, emerging from the lake in a thick mist. There was also another story claiming the lake had appeared when rain fell into the footprints of a giant.
Amy chuckled at the stories and kept walking when she saw something move in the lake and stopped. Then she heard singing, beautiful singing that she recognized, and as the person emerging from the water came closer, she could see it was Kipp. He was wearing swim shorts and shook his hair as he came out of the water.
"Hi there," he said. "Beautiful day, huh? Perfect for a swim."
Amy looked up at the sky, wherefrom raindrops were still falling on her face. "It's raining," she said.
He looked up and closed his eyes. "I love the rain."
"Of course, you do," she said.
Billie Jean was pulling hard on the leash and Amy tried to pull her back, but the dog seemed very interested in the bushes. Amy gave up fighting her and let the dog sniff the bushes.
Listen, I…I am sorry…we got off on the…" Kipp began, then stopped. The expression on his face changed. "W-what the heck?"
Amy turned to look too and saw Billie Jean. She had gotten ahold of something and was pulling it. Something big. Amy literally stopped breathing when she realized it was an arm.
Chapter Fifty-One
"Something is happening at the lake," I said and looked at my mother. I was doing the dishes after lunch when I spotted people from the entire neighborhood flocking toward the park. In the distance, I heard wailing sirens and saw the blue and red lights hit the leaves on the trees.
"They found a body," Adrian said. "I just heard it on TV."
I turned to look at him. He wasn't high anymore and seemed more like himself.
"A body?"
He nodded. "It was your friend Amy who found it. She was just interviewed and was crying and all that."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked and threw the dishtowel down.
My mother protested loudly, but I didn't care. I put on my sneakers and sprang for the door. I rushed through the cul-de-sac, where I met Jayden and Jazmine.
"You heard?" I asked.
They both nodded. We rushed toward the park where hundreds of people had gathered. We pushed through the crowd and made it to the front of the row to better see.
Then I froze. My heart stopped beating.
"What's wrong?" Jayden asked when he saw the look on my face.
I was hyperventilating. "Th-the boy. I-it's Sam."
I turned away to not look at Sam's body. It was ripped open.
"Who the heck is Sam?" Jayden asked.
I spotted Amy somewhere between the police cars, talking to two officers who were writing down every word she said. Some other boy was there too that I hadn't seen before. Amy was crying, her mom holding her in her arms. I felt like crying myself.
Poor Sam. Poor, poor Sam.
"Are you okay, Robyn?" Jayden asked.
"I…I just…knew him," I said.
"They think it's the wolf again," Jazmine said, coming up to us. "I heard people talking about it in the back.”
I felt my heart race in my chest, remembering my own encounter with this wolf a few weeks ago.
Jayden bit his lip. He had that worried look on his face.
"It can't be your brother," I said and grabbed his hand in mine. He looked at me. "We saw him, remember? He was there and so was the wolf when it attacked me. It can't be him."
"Then who the heck is it?" Jayden asked. "There aren't that many wolves in this area."
"Could it be someone from Ruelle's family?" I asked.
"Don't…” he said. "Don't even go there."
"Why not?"
"Because it's not them. I know them."
I sensed I should have stopped there, yet I continued. "I just think it won't hurt keeping an eye on them. That's all."
"I am not listening to this," Jayden said, as he turned his back on me and left. I stood there, baffled. Jazmine came up to me.
"Trouble in Paradise?"
I exhaled. "Nothing we can't handle."
Chapter Fifty-Two
Amy's mom held an arm around her shoulder and handed her the hot chocolate. Amy was still shaking as she grabbed it between her hands. She was sitting in the recliner in the living room, her dad still fighting for his life on the couch in front of her. Billie Jean was lying by her feet, sleeping, while the puppies were crawling on top of her.
"What an awful thing to go through," her mother said and sat down next to her. "On top of everything else going on."
Amy had spent the entire afternoon talking to the police and reporters, and she was exhausted, to put it mildly. The police had called her mom, and she had been there with her through it all. Amy was so thrilled she was there; she wasn't sure she could have gone through all this alone. It was just too much for one person.
She had known as soon as she saw his face, but she hadn't told anyone that she knew who the boy was. She didn't dare to. How could she explain how she knew? They would only start to ask questions, and they wouldn't even believe the answers. They would think she had lost it. No, it was better to keep her crazy story to herself. Well, between her, Melanie, and Robyn, of course.
Her dad was moaning, and her mom was attended to him, putting a cold cloth on his face.
"How is he?" Amy asked.
"He's fighting," her mom answered. "But is he winning the fight? Only time will tell."
Amy sipped her hot chocolate. Her hands were shaking so badly as she lifted the cup, it spilled slightly on her pants. She rubbed the stain on her jeans, but that only made it worse.
"Can I g
et you anything else? Something to eat?" Melanie said. She had just walked in from the kitchen and had a plate in her hands with a big juicy steak on it. It was still sizzling.
"I'm not hungry, but thanks," Amy said.
"Now there's a sentence I don't often hear from my daughter."
The voice saying the words was barely a whisper, but still, they all heard it. Amy gasped and turned her head. Her eyes stared into those of her father's.
"Dad!"
"Jim!" her mother exclaimed.
He chuckled, then coughed. He stared at Amy intently and smiled while whispering:
"Amy-bo-bamy. You remember how I used to call you that?"
She chuckled and nodded, tears shaping in the corners of her eyes. She wiped one away that had escaped and rolled down her cheek.
"I used to hate it."
"But now you don't?" he said, his voice hoarse, reaching out his hand toward her.
She shook her head while giving in to her tears and letting them go. She sniffled and grabbed his hand in hers.
"Not anymore. I think it is the sweetest thing anyone has ever called me."
Chapter Fifty-Three
Adrian came in through the window again and startled Jazmine when he suddenly appeared in her room.
"You've got to stop doing that," she said.
Then she looked at him, looked into his eyes to see if he was still high. He wasn't. It made her smile.
He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into a kiss. It felt the way it was supposed to, the way it used to. It felt right.
"So, have those cousins of yours left?" she asked when he let her go. He stared at her like he wanted more. She pulled away. Not because she didn't want to kiss him again; she did. No, she wanted to keep him that way, constantly wanting more. Keep him hungry for her and not let him think he could get her whenever he wanted.