“Listen to me,” Franklin said, stepping closer. “There has been a shift and you can be that inside edge against this blight. You’re strong and willful, that’s why The Council chose you to be an Enforcer.”
Abrupt laughter shot from the sheriff and ricocheted off the walls.
“Bud and I helped you because you’re different than the others. Aren’t you?” Inhaling deeply, the old man continued in a fatherly tone. “You owe it to the human race to do the right thing here, son. You owe it to yourself and you owe it to me. If these miscreants start running wild, it’s only a matter of time before they extinguish supply. Think about it, Bobby! They’re getting sloppier by the day, multiplying like cockroaches. It’s not going to end well for anyone.”
“He’s right.” Huck tucked Ramona’s handgun into the small of his back. “You have to help stop these bastards before you lose control.”
“I… I can’t.”
“Why not, Bob?” DeSean pulled his daughter against him. “If I can do it, you can too.”
“The Council!”
“Forget The Council,” Franklin shouted back. “They know what’s coming. This country will wage a war you cannot win and it’s time to pick a side.”
Taylor scanned the pale faces staring back, the silver star rising and falling on his chest.
“Bob,” DeSean started, “you and I have never seen eye to eye on a goddamn thing, but we can push these things back if we work together.” He looked down at his little girl. “For her and everyone like her. Just show us how.”
Huck followed DeSean’s lead. He knew characters like the sheriff because he wrote characters like the sheriff. The kind who wear one face in public and another behind closed doors. If they could appeal to whatever humanity he had left in the tank, they could buy enough time to get out of this alive. Huck could go home to his daughter and put this shit in the rearview mirror with his old life. “Listen to the voice inside your head, Bob, because I know you can hear it. I see it in your eyes.” He glanced at Nina. “What happened to us goes against everything you stand for. If it didn’t, you never would’ve pinned that star to your chest.” He stepped closer, drawing Taylor’s aim. “Don’t take any more people from their families. Don’t take me from mine. Don’t be a monster.”
Aiming at Huck’s chest, Taylor searched his face in the graveyard quiet buzzing in their ears. “If you talk about this, they will come.”
Heart jumping, Huck nodded his understanding with hope blooming in his eyes.
“If you talk about this, they will come for me, too.”
Everyone nodded.
Sighing, Taylor lowered the heavy revolver and cringed at the hurt welling in his deputy’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Scott,” he whispered, stuffing the gun in its holster and hanging his head. “This isn’t what I wanted.”
Andrews cautiously lowered the Flintlock. “If Franklin hadn’t shown up you would’ve killed us.”
Taylor looked up, face as white as a ghost. “When you see what we’re up against, you’ll wish I had.”
“Then show us.”
Looking over at DeSean, his eyes fell to Cassandra standing by his side. “Okay.”
Franklin slapped Taylor on the back. “Good man,” he said, pulling an IV bag of blood from his parka. “Now, drink. You look like ten pounds of shit stuffed in a five-pound bag.”
Johnny shot to his feet and retrieved the silver cross, making the sheriff tense. “Can I see that blue thing again? What is that? Can you fly too? Where do you store your wings? And how high can you go?”
Chapter Seventeen
Ten Months Later
Huck put the ’68 Camaro in park and shut off the engine, squinting against the sunshine gleaming off the racing stripes running across the blood-colored hood. The Z/28 was even better than the black SS Ambrose used to lure him to that farmhouse back in December, but – in the end – the glorious splurge did little to lift his spirits. He studied an orange maple glowing brightly next to a yellow aspen outside the front doors, throat itchy and dry. Pulling the keys from the ignition, his tight gaze drew to a spooky witch on a broom dangling from the wraparound porch, cobwebs and spiders strewn about the bannisters. A postcard moment contrasting sharply with the heavy reality sitting on his chest. “You don’t have to go in.”
Nina set a warm hand on his wrist. “I know.”
His eyes jumped from a grinning jack-o’-lantern to the rearview mirror, an uneasy feeling washing over him like a cold, black wind. “You ready kiddo?”
RaeAnn kicked a sneaker against the back of Nina’s seat. “I’m hungry.”
Huck blew out a calming breath because RaeAnn didn’t know what was about to happen. She thought this was just another routine visit and he wished it was. He didn’t want to go in there but Nina was right. It was time.
“You okay?”
He turned to her and tried on a smile that didn’t fit. “Yeah,” he said, opening the car door.
Inside, the smell of urine and disinfectant rushed to greet them. No matter how much they used of one, they couldn’t get rid of the other.
“Mr. Law!” Natalie scrambled out from behind a moon-shaped desk, a pretty black button down and slacks setting off her green eyes. “I stayed up all night finishing your book and oh my God!” Woefully, she shook her head. “I couldn’t put it down and now I’m sad it’s over.”
Slipping his shades into an inside pocket of a new leather jacket, Huck forced a tightlipped smile. “Well, thanks for reading it, Nat. I think.”
“It was the perfect Halloween read! Where did you get the idea for it? From a dream or in the shower or something?”
“Yes, and yes.”
Smiling widely, she handed him a hardcover edition and a silver Sharpie. “Can you sign it for me, please?”
“Sure.”
“To your biggest fan!”
His eyes snapped to her and thinned, blood pounding thickly in his temples. He never found out who his biggest fan really was and just knowing they were still out there kept him looking over his shoulder. Something that would plague him for the rest of his life.
Uncapping the marker, he thanked Natalie for looking after his wife before signing his name in a metallic flourish. He meant it too. Natalie was one of the good ones and they were lucky to have her. Apparently, a female patient nearly killed her with a screwdriver at the institution she worked at before coming to Chrissy’s long-term care center and Huck thought there was a story in there somewhere. “There ya go.”
“Thank you so much,” she smiled, taking the book back. “And congratulations again, you deserve it. When’s the next one coming out?”
“I’m not sure,” he replied, trading an uncertain look with Nina. “Mainly because I’m not sure what happens next.” He could tell Nina wanted to take his hand but not in front of RaeAnn. Not yet. It wasn’t right. As far as she knew, Nina was just a good friend. Someone to help pick her up from school or take her to the park. He was glad she moved from Omaha to Boulder three months ago. A candy store in a college town with legalized marijuana was a no-brainer, just as Huck predicted. They had a bond they could never share with another and it brought them closer together. That, and they were afraid to be alone. Afraid it would happen again.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be another New York Times bestseller.” The phone rang behind the desk, pulling Natalie into motion. She held up the autographed copy of The Vampire Code in an appreciative manner. “Thanks again,” she said, snatching up the receiver. “Good morning, Wesley Village.”
Painting a thin smile across his face, Huck put a hand on the back of RaeAnn’s neck and escorted her down the long, carpeted hallway. Everything was clean and modern with shafts of sunlight sifting through the large windows overlooking the patio and pond. The place didn’t look like a long-term care center but it sure smelled like one. Still, it was nothing like the shithole Chrissy was in before. The runaway success of his new novel afforded an upgrade in her living (or unliving) accommodations a
nd that made him feel better.
For a while.
The door to her room grew closer and Huck’s heart fluttered in his chest like a bird trapped in a cage. He could hear the EKG before reaching the doorway and despised that sound with a passion. That repetitious beep with no sense of urgency and no sign of giving up. Inside the spacious room, he cringed. Someone put makeup on her again and he wished they wouldn’t do that, especially today. Chrissy wasn’t someone who wore makeup anymore because there was no hiding the truth. The ventilator stuck down her throat saw to that. She was brain dead and barely clinging to life, so what was the point? Chrissy loved her makeup and it only reminded Huck of all the things she’d never do again. Of all the time she lost and the forever yet to come.
He caught a reassuring smile from Nina that gave him strength. Even though they took the past ten months slow, it still went fast. It seemed like just yesterday they were sitting before Sheriff Taylor’s desk at the station, wondering if he was going to change his mind and kill them after all. But he didn’t. He stuck to his word and got them the hell out of Cottage Grove. Then he shipped Ramona’s body back to her family in Lawrence, Kansas where they buried the brave trucker beneath a bed of freshly fallen snow. Johnny safely returned to his panic-stricken parents in Des Moines, Iowa and the last Huck knew – courtesy of a recent text message from Deputy Andrews – DeSean, Franklin, Sheriff Taylor, and the young deputy were working with a handful of churches in a veiled battle growing larger by the day. Huck figured they must be doing something right because he hadn’t seen any signs of the undead around his neck of the woods and that was a good thing. He had a daughter to raise and didn’t need the trouble. Just the same, the new Glock 22 hidden beneath his jacket was packed with silver hollow points – compliments of the sheriff. A small consolation in the face of great terror.
“Daddy?”
Blinking himself back into Chrissy’s room, Huck looked down.
“I left Lambie in the car.”
Kneeling before RaeAnn, he spoke in a soft voice belying the dread tightening his chest. “Say hi to your mommy, and then Nina will take you to get Lambie and a candy bar. Okay?”
Nervously, as if she knew something was afoot (she was too smart for her own good and only six years old!) she nodded her understanding and took her place on the stepstool next to the bed. The EKG fed Huck’s headache one beep at a time.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Interwoven with the sucking sound of the ventilator, Chrissy’s chest rose and fell beneath the thousand count bedsheet and it was enough to drive a person mad. He wanted out of there. He wanted this to be over. It killed him watching RaeAnn kiss her mother on the cheek because Chrissy loved her so damn much and she got cheated. Cheated out of watching her baby girl grow up. Cheated out of a thousand hugs. Cheated out of a beautiful life.
“Hi Mommy, I love you.”
Huck forced his fists to relax and discreetly swiped at a tear.
Nina squeezed his hand when RaeAnn was busy climbing down the stepstool and this was it. This was goodbye.
“Come on, sweetie,” she said, taking RaeAnn’s hand.
Huck caught one last heartwarming glance from Nina and then they were gone, leaving him alone with his wife and racing thoughts. Though he wanted them to, his feet wouldn’t take him closer to the bed. Nothing seemed to work except the machines in the room.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The doctor entered, a small bony man with a receding hairline and gentle disposition. “Are you certain about this, Mr. Law?” he asked, clutching a tablet to his chest and getting right down to business.
Huck barely smiled because he knew what the doctor was really asking. He was really asking: are you sure you want to stop paying us $7,500 a month?
“I’m sure.”
Straightening a slate gray lab coat, Doctor Packard approached the bed and studied Chrissy with a fond look softening his eyes. Huck wondered if he ordered the makeup job, as if eyeshadow and rouge would make this any easier. “This switch right here,” he said, pointing to a red switch, “will deactivate the ventilator. But you must press this gray button at the same time or it will not disengage.” He brushed a thin strand of dirty blond hair from Chrissy’s cheek and stared at her through faraway eyes. Huck shifted in his stance and the doctor looked up at him. “After that, it will be in God’s hands.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Huck replied, ready to dispense with the formalities.
Spreading a comforting smile, he gave Huck’s shoulder a soft squeeze and quietly left the room. The door swung shut behind him and Huck could hear his pulse thudding in the hollow of his throat. He felt lightheaded and his wife’s rosy cheeks were getting under his skin. He stepped closer to the bed. Closer to the red switch on the ventilator.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Wiping his palms on his jeans, he blurred Chrissy into the beautiful woman he married on a snowcapped Copper Mountain where the sunshine turned her long blond hair to gold, her warm smile and ocean blue eyes brilliant against the slopes. She was breathtaking and when he blinked some tears out, the shriveled woman he barely recognized anymore came back into focus. Taking her cold hand in his, he pressed it to his lips and breathed her in. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for everything, but I will take care of her. I promise you that.” Bending, he kissed her forehead. Teardrops landed on her rosy fucking cheeks and slid to the pillow. “Thank you for picking me” he whispered softly. “Thank you for sharing your life and giving us our amazing daughter.”
Chrissy laid there with her eyes shut and sinking into her head. He often wondered if she could hear him but refused to accept it. The thought of her lying trapped inside her own failing body made him want to kill the fucking bitch that put her in this place. The drunk one who recklessly ripped his family apart by the seams. He’d killed her a thousand different ways in his dreams and she deserved it each and every time.
Filling his chest with a heavy breath, he found the red switch, hand shaking from a barb of nerves. “Goodbye, Chrissy,” he whispered, tears painting his cheeks.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Pressing the gray button at the same time, the red switch made a clicking sound and the ventilator ceased its repetitious whooshing. Chrissy’s chest lowered and stopped moving. Everything got unnervingly quiet, a snapshot in time Huck would never forget. Then the beeps on the EKG turned urgent and the mood all changed. He watched her body for signs of distress. The last thing he wanted was to cause her anymore pain. She’d been through enough and it was time to end her suffering. To set her free. Her pulse flatlined into a solid beep, illustrated by a flat red line on the monitor next to the bed, a stinger in his ears. Then, without preamble, the sound went just as dead as Chrissy did. The lights in the room flickered and Natalie paged somebody out in the hallway. Huck pulled a sterile breath into his lungs and pushed it back out through his teeth.
“Goodbye.”
Turning from her lifeless body, he crossed the room on rubbery legs. His head was heavy and he couldn’t shake the feeling that the room was getting longer. Breathing hard, he imagined the door being locked when he finally reached it, sealing him inside with his dead wife for all of eternity. His hand found the cold lever and just before he turned it, the EKG spiked behind him.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Heart jumping, he turned to see Chrissy’s pulse spike on the screen. It picked up steam, the frequency increasing with the red in her cheeks.
“What the hell?” he muttered, shuffling closer to the bed. He stopped next to her and watched her chest rise and fall without help from the ventilator. Tilting his head to the side, he ran a finger down her cheek and held it up to the light. His heart raced faster and the room grew warmer. It wasn’t makeup on her cheek, it was…
Chrissy’s eyeli
ds peeled open and Huck backed into a table on wheels, knocking a vase of wilted flowers to the floor with a deafening crash.
She started choking and grabbed the ventilator tube running down her throat with both hands. Pressing up against a wall, Huck incredulously watched her pull the plastic tubing past her red lips, a pinkish liquid dripping from its end onto the bedsheet.
Doctor Packard barged back into the room with two nurses in tow, his lab coat fluttering around him just as nervously as the nurses.
Chrissy brought a clumsy hand to her face, pulling on the IV tube stuck in her wrist. “What haffened?” she slurred, rubbing her forehead as if she were experiencing the world’s worst hangover.
“You’re at the Wesley Village Care Center,” the doctor explained, shining a penlight in her eyes and making them dilate. “You were in a car accident.”
“Whath?” Her oily eyes tripped over her husband, drool running from the corner of her mouth. “Huck?”
A nurse pushed past him with a small glass of water as he watched the wrinkles leave his wife’s waxy skin and the volume return to her stringy hair. She sipped some water and coughed, her eyes slowly returning to their sockets. “What’s happening?” he heard himself ask.
“She’s breathing on her own is what’s happening,” Dr. Packard answered, trading the penlight for a tongue depressor.
“Huck?” Chrissy pushed the doctor away and sat up with a surprising burst of energy. “Where’s RaeAnn?”
Huck couldn’t believe his eyes. Redness continued creeping into Chrissy’s flesh and somebody laughed out loud in the hallway. The EKG beeped faster. The doctor said something about a miracle and the room turned cold and gray, as if Chrissy was sucking the place dry of its color.
“Huck,” she shouted, coughing into a fist. “Talk to me! Where’s our daughter?”
Staring blankly back, he barely shook his head, lips mouthing words he couldn’t bring himself to say. Our daughter? Spinning around, he wrapped the doctor’s lab coat in his fists and slammed him up against a wall, his heated breath fogging the doctor’s eyewear. “What did you do?” he screamed, tendons bulging in his neck.
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