by Blou Bryant
Teri gripped him a bit tighter at the threat and Wyatt tensed, fully expecting to hear footsteps behind them at any moment but instead, dirt bikes took off and none came in their direction.
Eventually, it got quiet and there was no movement, no conversation, so he cautiously stepped out from behind the tree and scanned the area. They were alone again, and the two moved forward, this time with more speed and less caution. Two quick looks back made him happy; if he couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see him.
He looked back a third time. Screw this, he thought, straightened up and darted towards the deeper woods where the trees were closer together and where bushes obscured the forest and would hide them from their pursuers.
As he ran, Wyatt took one last glance back at the wrong time and didn’t notice a root that stuck up out of the ground. He stumbled, tried to catch himself but then tumbled forward, and fell heavily to the ground.
He could have softened the landing if he’d rolled, but with Teri on his back, he fell straight, and only managed to cushion part of the blow by throwing a hand out at the last second. If the ground had been harder, he’d have broken his wrist, but they landed in leaves and soft grass.
Wyatt quickly got up and grabbed Teri’s behind, and pushed her up high on his back, just as someone yelled out, “There, I see them.”
He cursed and sprinted for the woods. Teri wasn’t fully on and swung back and forth, making his center of gravity higher than he was used to and he almost fell again. She got her legs around him, tight like she was on a horse, and he lengthened his stride. He heard shouts from behind, but he didn’t bother to look back.
It was only steps until he broke into the woods, his thighs ploughing through brush which didn’t slow his pace at all. This was his wheelhouse; here was a world he was comfortable with. It wasn’t a track at a local school, the only spectators were the people racing after him, and his only prize would be his freedom. It was perfect.
The ground sloped upwards to a sparse hill to his right, so he turned left into the thicker woods, where they’d be harder to spot. He vaulted over fallen trees and stumps, no longer hindered by a need to see what was going on behind him. What others did wasn’t important in a race, all that mattered was you and how hard you pushed. And push he did. There were occasional shouts from behind them, but they were faint now and he ignored them as they continued in the opposite direction.
Teri clutched at him as he ran through the woods. The brush was mostly gone once they were a hundred yards in and the running was easy. With her legs wrapped tight around his waist and her arms across his chest, Wyatt imagined that he could run forever and had no fears that the house-bound freaks who styled themselves vampires would catch him.
They continued on for another twenty minutes or so, until his thighs began to ache and his breath became quick. The surge of adrenaline was fading and he discovered that running in the woods wasn’t the same as on a track. He had to constantly shift to avoid fallen trees and occasional puddles, using muscles that weren’t normally required. He slowed to a walk and finally looked around. He was not surprised to find that they were alone.
They walked in silence for a while and he thought about what Jessica had yelled. To Teri, he said, “Don’t worry, I’m sure everyone is fine. She was lying.”
“No,” replied Teri. “Daddy.”
“He’s fine.”
“No,” she said. Language was too new to her, he couldn’t tell in her tone if she was guessing, or if she was sad or angry.
“We’ll see.”
“No,” she repeated.
He didn’t know what to say, he’d seen Vasca fall, and perhaps she had too. So he kept walking, his hands holding her up now, letting her rest her arms. He considered setting her down, but even at a walk, she’d slow their progress. As well, he wasn’t sure what her condition was, “You’re changing,” he said, somewhat pointlessly.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Just your voice?”
“No.”
They came to a small pond, a puddle almost and walked around it, avoiding the muddy patches. He said, “You’re not a great conversationalist yet.”
“Pan,” she said after a pause.
Wyatt thought about that, “Pain?” he asked,
She clicked in reply.
If her body was changing, talking might well cause her discomfort. “How about clicking once for no and twice for yes?” he asked.
Two clicks.
“Do you know what the changes will be, other than your voice?”
One click. Then two clicks after a pause.
Wyatt paused, and said, “Yes and no?”
Two clicks.
They walked in silence for a while, his body aching at every step. He touched the back of his head to check if the bleeding had stopped. It had, but there was one heck of a bump and cut, deep enough that he could feel it. “I don’t suppose you’re able to heal me?”
One click.
“You know, this ability I have to change people, it’d be nice if I could do it to myself. I could use a bit of healing, like Hannah,” he said, choking up with worry at the friend he’d left behind, “I’d like to be special,” he said.
One click.
He stopped in his tracks at that and turned his head to look into her starburst eyes. “What do you mean by that?” he said.
Teri didn’t reply.
“I wish she was here to interpret for us. I guess I’ll just have to wait until you’ve finished with your transformation, then you can tell me everything, right?”
Two clicks.
A half hour later, Wyatt was starting to worry they had travelled too deep into the forest. Civilization was dangerous for him, for them, but that didn’t mean he wanted – or could - live in the woods for life. He remembered getting lost years before, on a camping trip with his family before his father had disappeared, how he’d followed what he’d figured would be a small shortcut.
The tents had been a short distance from the tuck shop and his dad had given him two dollars to buy marshmallows for the night fire. He’d taken the path to get there but decided it wasn’t direct enough for him on the way back and he’d cut through a wooded area at the edge of the campground.
Half an hour later, he was panicked, lost in the woods but too stubborn to turn back. He’d pushed forward, only to find the forest deeper and darker than expected, to the point where he could see nothing of the campground or the lake.
Walking in the woods with Teri on his back, he felt the same sense of hopelessness envelop him. He’d cried out, yelled for his parents, for anyone, to find him, but had heard only the sounds of the forest. What had been pleasant became menacing and terrifying. It was two hours later when he stumbled back into the campground. A park ranger picked him up and brought him back to his family, who had mobilized the entire camp.
His father and mother took turns yelling at him, hugging him and crying. He’d not been the only one panicked. Nobody ever asked about the marshmallows which was good, he’d eaten them in the woods.
It seemed as if Teri sensed his rising anxiety, perhaps listening to the sound of his breathing, which was coming quick and shallow. She hugged him tight, arms and legs tight around him, and one hand patted him on the chest. He stopped for a moment and took one deep breath and then another. “Thanks,” he said.
Two clicks. Yes, or perhaps it meant, ‘You’re welcome.’
It was at least another twenty minutes before they saw a broad, open field through the trees. Wyatt assumed that a mowed meadow had to be close to a road, and the pair headed towards it. Dusk was close, the sun disappearing further and further behind the trees, and he was glad to have returned to civilization. This posed a new, different challenge, now he had to figure out where he was, where to go and how to get there.
The grass and flowers of the field were around knee height, ready for another cutting. As they crested a small hill, they saw a road less than a half-mile away and turned to meet it, fo
llowing an ancient hedgerow overgrown with trees and moss-covered stones. “So, Teri, you may not know it, but I’ve got a plan,” he said. “I need a safe place to leave you, cause I can’t bring you with me. You wouldn’t happen to have any relatives in Kentucky?” he asked, half joking.
One click. No surprise, he thought and continued to walk towards the road and then stopped at the sound of vehicles. He sat down on a large stone, watched and wasn’t surprised when three dirt bikes raced into view. He bent further down to make a smaller profile, but they’d seen him and the front one turned immediately towards them, the other two followed.
Wyatt gave up on the idea of escape, they were too far out in the open, the field was wider than several football fields laid end to end. The bikers would catch him in minutes.
“Teri, get on the other side of the stones. Try to hide,” he said and let her down onto the top of the hedgerow. She followed his directions, and he stood up, waiting for the vampires to arrive. There was no point in hiding anymore, so he looked for a weapon, needing something, anything to reduce the advantage of their pursuers.
He grabbed two rocks from the hedgerow, each roundish and about the size of a shotput. He held one in his left hand and hefted the other once, twice, three times. It was just the right weight and shape. The bikes were closing in but he didn’t panic. His body was no longer pumping adrenaline, and he didn’t feel any danger, even though he knew he should. With his right shoulder down, he cupped the stone against his neck, just under his ear and watched them approach.
As they neared, Wyatt counted out the timing for a shot, five, four, no, they were coming too fast. He skipped three and rushed the last part of the count. Two, one, he finished, twisted on his right foot, spun around and pushed off hard, his arm thrusting the stone straight out. He released the heavy rock at the last possible second and before it reached its apogee, he switched the second stone to his right hand and spun again.
The second rock flew from his hand, just as the first hit his target hard in the chest. The rider flew backwards off her bike, which continued in the opposite direction, flopping over yards later. The rider didn’t get up.
He only had a moment to admire what had to be a fifty-foot shot, one of his best, when the second stone missed as the following bikers swerved to avoid their fallen partner. Two against one, not great odds.
Wyatt thought back to his Judo classes and the wise old Sensei who had told him what great promise he had. In that instant, he remembered those early lessons about how to block blows and turn an opponent’s strength against them. He wished he’d not quit after the third class. Ah well, rocks it was, rocks against swords and motorcycles.
He picked up another two, smaller ones, as the bikers closed the last twenty feet. One slowed, but the other revved his engine and put his sword straight out like a lance. Wyatt gave up on the form throw and pitched a stone overhand at the approaching man. The throw missed, flying several feet wide. Baseball, like Judo, wasn’t his thing. He turned and ran.
He jumped up on the hedgerow to avoid them, but, seeing Teri down below, didn’t cross over into the other side of the field. Instead he ran along the top to draw the bikers away from her.
The first biker passed by him, sword out and Wyatt leaped in the air, hurdling the slice that would have cut through his thighs. Using the momentum of the jump, he sped up and watched the next one come along beside him.
To the surprise of the rider, this time he jumped right at his opponent, his shoulder making hard contact. This knocked both of them to the ground. As they rolled, Wyatt ended up on top and managed to get both knees on the bikers’ shoulders. He brought his stone down on the guy’s helmet, hard, once, twice and then a third time. The biker stopped moving, his helmet half off, a trickle of blood visible.
As the last vampire biker approached, Wyatt stood behind the bike that he’d knocked down, using it as a shield. There wasn’t any way the other would ride over it. Or at least, so he thought, and had to jump out of the way at the last second as his opponent pulled his front wheel up and roared past him and over the bike.
The rider spun around for a return pass and Wyatt considered running for it, but he wasn’t going to outpace a motorcycle in an open field. He could jump the hedgerow but that would put Teri at risk and she couldn’t defend against a nut-job with a sword. He could get on the downed motorcycle, but he’d never driven one before and this wasn’t the time to learn.
Fine, he thought, and stood up straight, shoulders back. When there is no hope, there was no fear. “Teri, run to the road,” he yelled, “flag down a car and call the police.”
Without bothering to see if she’d listened, he charged at the biker who had turned around and was revving his engine for a return pass. As he ran, he let out a primal roar and picked up speed. The biker didn’t move at first, likely confused. Time appeared to slow, moments became like seconds and seconds came to feel like hours as he ran forward, thrilled at the freedom that came from this level of stupidity.
They had been twenty, perhaps thirty feet apart when he’d started and he closed the gap before the biker even let go of the throttle. With ten or more feet left, he propelled himself into the air, the long jump of his life. His record was twenty feet, the world record twenty-nine. If he’d not landed on the biker, it would have been his personal best. The biker didn’t even have time to get his blade up when Wyatt’s feet struck him in the chest.
They rolled together on the ground to the sound of the motorcycles dying engine. Wyatt ended up on top again and pummeled the other man in the chest, the sides and then struck him hard, in the neck. The vampire biker stopped moving and Wyatt thrust his arms in the air and howled.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he shouted, still on his knees over his opponent. “In your face!” He bent over, he wanted to scream with joy and cry with exhaustion. A sound behind him brought him out of his moment of joy. “Teri, we have to go,” he said and turned just as the blade of a sword nicked him in the shoulder. The turn likely saved his life.
He fell to the side as a second slash missed his neck by inches. The first biker hadn’t been knocked out by the stone. She stood over him, helmet off and smile on her face. “Stupid men,” she said and stepped forward, the blade pointing down at his chest. He considered kicking out or rolling, but she had him and there was no way he’d avoid the sword another time. He lay back and waited to be skewered.
“Just so you know, my name is Suzie, and I’m the last person you’ll ever see, lucky boy,” she said, with a grin. “I’ve been told that your blood is special. I look forward to tasting it, meat.”
“You talk too much. Get it over with,” he replied, not feeling as brave as he sounded.
She stepped forward, ready to thrust when the smile left her face. A crackling sound filled the air and blue electricity surrounded her. Her body jerked and spasmed and then lifted from the ground. She hung with her arms spread out, like a marionette with the blue glow surrounding her.
A moment later she fell, limp, to the ground. A slight figure appeared behind her, surrounded by the same sparkling blue electricity which lasted only moments more before it faded. Wyatt was left to wonder – yet again - if what he’d seen had been real. “Teri?” he asked but received no reply as she fell to her knees.
He shrugged off the surprise and the pain, came to his senses and got to his feet, knowing that the bikers might be dead, but it was possible that they were only unconscious, and he wasn’t going to wait around to find out. He picked Teri up, pulled her over his shoulder and ran for the road. They needed to stay close to it, their guide to civilization, whatever it might hold for them.
When they reached the road, he kept running, on into the woods, perhaps thirty yards, close enough that the street was still in view, far enough that they’d not be seen. He ran parallel to the road for ten minutes, twenty, harder and faster than he’d ever ran before. Neither spoke as they darted between branches and over fallen trees, her holding on, him pumping his legs, ta
king them as far from the scene of the battle as he possibly could.
Eventually, the adrenaline wore off and his body remembered that it had limits, ones forgotten as deeper parts of his mind controlled his fight for life and flight from danger. When he felt he could move no more, he found a small gully and lay down, covered them in leaves and wrapped his arms around Teri. They fell asleep without words.
Chapter 22
They slept straight through the dawn, not waking until the sun was at least a quarter of the way across the sky. Wyatt woke first at the feel of a spider crawling across his cheek, and his sudden jump jostled Teri out of her slumber. He brushed rotting leaves off of them and gauged their situation.
“How are you?” he asked her, and wondered if she’d suffered any ill effects from her electrical display, if it’d really happened at all. He gave up on that line of thought. The pain he felt through his body and the dirt and mud covering them told him it hadn’t been a dream.
Teri cleared her throat twice and shook her head. She made a sound and cleared her throat again. Finally, she gave up on using her vocal cords and clicked twice.
Wyatt stood up and stretched after checking out their surroundings. “Two clicks, you’re doing ok?” he asked.
Two clicks again and she stood up, ready to continue their journey. He marveled at her composure, there was no wariness to her, she appeared to be enjoying being in the woods. She pointed up at a tree and made a small gurgle of joy. Wyatt looked up, there was a bright red bird on a branch, singing away. “Pretty, yes,” he said and took her hand.
The strange pair walked through the woods, shadowing the road. Wyatt knew they needed to get a ride into town, but he wanted to watch traffic for a while, wary of more vampire bikers on the hunt for them. At the thought, he broke out in laughter, startling two squirrels arguing on a downed tree. As they darted out of sight, Teri looked at him questioningly.
He sat down and allowed himself the moment, laughing until tears rolled down his cheeks. Teri stood, quiet and just watched him. He searched her eyes for clues to her condition and was surprised to find her calm and relaxed. “I remembered,” he said, “that we’re being followed by Vampire Bikers, and it’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever had. Vampire Bikers From Hell,” he yelled out into the woods. “Wes Craven should make the movie,” he said.