HORROR THRILLERS-A Box Set of Horror Novels

by Billie Sue Mosiman

  Nevertheless, inside the body the cells aged, like those of the cloned sheep, Dolly—who looked younger than her clone, but was actually aging quickly. In each vampiric cell the march of time continued and wore the youthful-looking body completely out. The heart tired of working, the kidneys failed, the liver and lungs and stomach all surrendered in the end to the march of time.

  Eddie would be sent to live with relatives in another state. Her parents would make trips to see him, but for all practical purposes, Eddie would be lost to them. He would become a wanderer, moving from clan to clan, from family to family, in order to keep secret the fact he never aged. One day the trips her parents made to see him would grow less frequent until finally Eddie would be entirely on his own in the world. It was hardest on the ones who changed when so young. They couldn't really have a normal life with humans unless they kept on the move.

  Since the change came on now when she was seventeen, almost eighteen, she would be able to remain at home for some time, aging her face over the years with skillfully applied makeup and disguising her young body with more mature choices in clothes.

  "Dell?" Eddie's voice was soft and young, his voice having never changed. In the dark room, without seeing him, he could be any age, from five to twelve.

  "She can't talk yet," Celia said.

  "I know, but she can talk to me in here." Eddie pointed to his head.

  "Do you want me to leave?"

  "You don't have to."

  Celia gave Dell a kiss and stood, disengaging her hand from Dell's. "I'll see about your mother. I'll be back, Dell."

  Once Celia had left the room, Eddie again called Dell's name. She wanted to answer him, but still couldn't control her vocal cords. She sent out her thoughts to him instead. Hi, Eddie. This is a terrible thing, isn't it? I never knew it was so bad for you.

  "Aww, you couldn't know. No one knows until you go through it."

  She kept silent, not knowing what thought to project.

  "Dell? Maybe I can help. It just takes practice to do everything again, that's all. I know how hard it is. It's kind of like . . . well, like relaxation techniques, only turned on their heads. You know how you can hypnotize yourself?"

  No, I don't.

  "Well, you lie down and begin at your feet, relaxing your toes first, then the arch of your foot, then the ankle, and on up the body all the way to your brain. It relaxes people who get all stressed out." He grinned, and she loved him so much at that moment she wanted to leap from the bed and hug him tight. He looked so young, but he'd already lived two successful years in his new life. He was just a kid. A boy. Her little brother. And a very wise vampire already.

  "Anyway, what you do is send thoughts down to your toes, just as if you were going into relaxation, but instead of telling your toes to relax, you tell them to wake up. Get it? Wake up, Toes!"

  If she could have laughed, it would have been a big, openmouthed true laugh. She laughed instead in her mind at how seriously her brother had said, "Wake up, Toes!"

  "Once you have the toes awake, you move up the foot to the ankle, to the calves of your legs, to your knees, thighs, abdomen, chest, arms, and finally to your neck and head. If you'll try, I know you can do it. That's how Mentor taught me how to move again.

  Mentor had to go away.

  "I know. That's why I'm here telling you stuff. Just concentrate on your toes, okay? Tell them they belong to you and you mean for them to work right again. You just can't get anywhere without toes."

  She saws grin widen and knew he was trying for humor to urge her along in an easy way. Never mind that this was the most serious of endeavors. Never mind that it would determine whether or not she could ever return to the world again.

  "Go ahead," he said, leaning over the bed to throw back the hem of her gown. He stared at her toes like a surgeon waiting to see if his operation had left her paralyzed or if she would recover feeling in her extremities. "Go on, move them. Think, Dell, put your spine into it. Think about moving your toes, then we'll get your feet moving. You've got to do this. It's the only way."

  She knew he would not leave her alone unless she showed some sign of progress. She focused on her feet. She narrowed in on just the tips of her toes, imagining where they were, the dark copper nail polish she had used on them the day before, the way her second toe was longer than her big toe. There, she could visualize them now. Not bad feet, as feet went. Not too large, the skin smooth and tan from a summer swimming at the area pool.

  She could move them if she wanted, that's what Eddie was saying. If she really wanted to move them, she could. It was all within reach. She had to exert her will for the first time in her life. She'd do it, she knew she could.

  Move, she commanded.

  She visualized first stretching and then clenching her toes. If they would move, she could consider herself on the road back to life. She must make them obey.

  Move.

  "That's it!" Eddie yelled, "it's working, you're doing it, I knew you could do it!"

  MOVE.

  Stretch. Clench.

  MOVE!

  Wriggle. She wanted them to wriggle, she wanted her toes to go crazy, she wanted them to dance like individual ballet stars. She wanted to do so well that Eddie would jump right out of his skin he'd be so happy for her.

  She thought she could feel them moving now.

  "Your ankles, concentrate, Dell. Twist your feet around from the ankle. You can do it. You have to do it, it's just a little more effort, a little more."

  Dell saw her parents come into the room. They quietly approached the bed, and Eddie turned to them, grinning like a monkey. "She's coming back," he fairly shouted. "Dell's moving her feet."

  Her mother brushed a hand across her cold brow. Dell could not yet blink, so she was able to see the fine lines in her mother's palm. It struck her now for the first time that her mother had borne both her children before the disease struck. Neither her mother nor her father had been a vampire yet. They'd taken an awful chance having children, knowing that later they might fall ill and both their offspring after them. How could her mother have had the courage to have a family? How had they ever made that decision?

  Dell's father knelt beside the bed and took her lax hand into his own. "Come on, baby. Eddie's right. You have to move, or there will be marks on your skin where the blood has settled. They'll last a long time. You won't be able to go anywhere people can see you for a very long time. You have life. Now you have to animate the body before it's too late."

  Dell tried, Lord have mercy, she was trying. She let go of all thoughts except those centered on her feet and legs. She visualized moving up her body, commanding it to respond, just as Eddie had told her to do. She felt her calves clench then relax. She felt her thighs tighten and loosen. She felt her stomach contract then expand, as if she'd taken a breath all the way down to her belly. She felt her chest walls push apart, and then her throat opened by only the will of her thought processes. Next she concentrated on her lips, her tongue, her vocal cords. Finally, her nose, ears, eyes, eyebrows. She could sense every individual hair on her head, from root to hair end.

  She blinked. The sensation was so strange that she thought she might cry. She was not dead! She was no more dead than a baby just born kicking and screaming from the womb. She might have been dead, but no more.

  She lived!

  Her mother grabbed her around the shoulders and hugged her and kissed her cheeks. Her father held tight to her hand. Eddie was all over the room, walking up the wall like a spider, doing flips off the ceiling, whooping like a crane.

  Out of reflex, Dell sucked in a breath. She knew she didn't need it, not really, though it would keep her blood fresher longer. That first breath burned like lava pouring into her Arctic lungs. She coughed and hacked, pushing herself up on one elbow to lean over the side of the bed, feeling sick.

  If Eddie would stop laughing and clapping long enough, she'd send him one last thought communication. But he was celebrating too hard to pay
attention to her. Instead, after a couple of false starts, she said in a hoarse voice she did not recognize, "Thanks, Ed . . . Eddie, could . . . couldn't have done it . . . without you."

  6

  Dell had now moved her limbs and gained control once again of her body. She thought she felt different since her heart had stopped beating and she was now officially vampire. She felt, for the most part, cold. She could not keep her teeth from chattering.

  Her mother had wrapped her in a blanket and sat beside her on the bed.

  "When will I warm up, Mom?"

  "Honey, the blood will make you warm."

  Dell's father had gone to the kitchen to retrieve a blood bag for his daughter. The taking of the blood was the next step in her change, they had told her. Without it, she would eventually fall back into unconsciousness.

  "I'm not sure I can do it," she said. "I don't think I can . . . drink blood, Mom."

  "It's not drinking," her mother said. "You'll see, be patient."

  Eddie sat in the chair Mentor had occupied earlier. He seemed happy just to see his sister talking and moving. Dell noticed he hadn't any advice about what she faced in the next few minutes.

  Dell's father came into the room, carefully transporting the transparent plastic bag of human hemoglobin. Each bag cost the Cambians a dear price. They worked hard to afford the blood and treated it with great respect. For as long as Dell could remember they had never dropped a bag or punctured it accidentally. Blood had never been spilled in their home.

  She had always assumed that her parents and Eddie partook of the blood late in the night because she rarely saw one of them taking a bag from the fridge. She had also assumed that they drank it, so it was a mild surprise to her to learn they did not.

  "All right," her father said, holding the bag at the height of his chest. "Stand up, Dell. I'll show you how."

  She stood, but averted her gaze from the blood bag. The bags had always seemed horrible to her. How could anyone think of touching them? They sat in a covered white cardboard box on the top shelf of the refrigerator. The box was always there and always contained at least a few bags, but more often it was crammed full. She had thought of the blood as insulin for diabetics. Now it was medicine to keep her family healthy.

  "Look at me, Dell."

  She forced her eyes to his. "I don't think I can do this, Daddy."

  "Baby, you have to. The thirst hasn't come on you yet, but after this it will, and it'll be easier for you. But if we don't get this into you soon, you won't be able to move around and talk to us much longer."

  Dell sighed. She again glanced away from her father and into the corners of the room as if she could find an alternative there. She had no urge to taste blood, could not bring herself to imagine it in her mouth or on her tongue. The very thought made her want to gag. But her father was waiting, they were all waiting. She looked at her father again and found her resolve. "Okay, what should I do?"

  "You see that there's a pocket of air here at the top of the bag? That's the area you're going to pierce. The rest will happen naturally. I'll hold this for you and help you position it so it will drain. Next time you'll be able to do it alone."

  "But how do I . . . ?"

  "Put your mouth here," he said, indicating a spot at the top of the blood bag. "When you do, close your eyes. Don't think of anything. It'll be all right, trust me."

  She approached closer and eyed the bag. He held it out to her carefully, and she moved her lips toward it. Don't think about it, she told herself. They say you must do this, so just screw up your courage and do it.

  Her lips came into contact with the cold plastic. She tasted condensed water drops that warmed in her mouth. She had her teeth around the top corner of the bag and dosed her eyes. She'd never be able to do this. She'd never be able to rip through the thick plastic to get at the dark ruby liquid inside.

  Suddenly her body spasmed and she felt her father's hand holding onto her shoulder to keep her in place. She heard, as at a distance, her mother's soothing voice, but she didn't know what she was saying. She heard Eddie urging her on, saying what he'd said to get her to concentrate on moving her toes. "You can do it," he was saying again. "C'mon, Dell, you can do it."

  There was a sensation of movement behind her top lip, as if hard sticks had been shoved against her incisors and straight into her gums. It didn't hurt very much, but she reacted against it, trying to pull away from contact with the bag. She heard her father's voice command her to. "Be still, stay."

  The strange sensation grew, and she moved her tongue away from the side of the bag to feel her top teeth. She felt her incisors, now long and pointed, like miniature daggers. Her tongue flicked away swiftly and fear filled her. Fangs! They had grown of their own accord, without her intervention or thought. How had it happened?

  As soon as the sensation of growth in her mouth ceased, the fear fled, and a deep feeling of desire overwhelmed her. Her olfactory senses sharpened, and she could smell the scent of the blood right through the plastic. Now it was like the scent of delicate perfume.

  She was about to open her eyes and pull back when something inside her forced her teeth down around the top of the bag, her fangs easily piercing the plastic. She knew her father was lifting the bag now, tipping the contents up so that her fangs could get at it.

  She had to do nothing of her own will but obey the strong call spiraling through her to partake. At this point she knew she could not pull back from the thing her body yearned for most in all the world. The blood spilled over her incisors, chilling them, and she could feel the coldness sweep through tiny openings in her fangs. The blood swept through hollows and into small veins in the roof of her mouth, moved rapidly into larger veins at the back of her head, and coursed down through her neck into her blood system. It moved like cold snakes entering her body.

  She knew it as life. She sensed how alive the blood was, how new, fresh, and sustaining. She thought she could feel it mingling with her own pooled, coagulating dead blood, reviving it. Her brain exploded with ecstasy, and her body quivered with electric currents of pleasure. She lost herself in the rush of feeling that came on the heels of the commingling going on from her head to her feet.

  Without warning, someone placed a hand to her forehead and forced her back. Her mouth released the bag with a sucking noise that sounded as loud as timber falling and her eyelids flew open. She felt droplets of blood slide down from her upper lip and felt her incisors retract of their own volition, pushing back up into the recesses of her gums with a shriek of pain that caused her to bring her hands to her face.

  She wanted more! Why were they depriving her?

  She wasn't finished, though she could see the bag was emptied. She needed another one, and another.

  "There, there," her father said, lowering the empty blood bag to his side. "Sit down, Dell. Let it work the magic."

  Her mother led her back to the bed and she sat, stunned and mindless except for the desire for more. It was not blood, but life. She felt no revulsion toward it now. In fact, she wanted it as much as she'd ever wanted food or drink since the day she was born.

  It was as if tiny sparks had ignited in her brain and her neurons were firing off cannons. She felt invincible, able to conquer anyone and anything; she felt as if she might fly.

  "Stay calm," her mother said, brushing back the hair at her temple. "This will pass soon and you'll feel like yourself again."

  Oh, God, why hadn't they told her that becoming one of them would give her this much strength and vitality? Why hadn't they been happier for her when she had called to her mother to show her the sores that indicated she was going to become one of them? How had they kept this gift from her for so long, kept it all to themselves, leaving her weak and prone to death or accident in her frail human form?

  "It's pretty cool, huh, Dell?" Eddie asked. He jiggled around on the chair like a younger child unable to keep still.

  "Hush, Eddie," her mother said.

  "But Mom, it's i
mmortality. It's a great event. She'll have those feelings over and over again forever, and we ought to tell her."

  She blinked and gave herself over to the renewal taking place in her body. She'd never felt so alive, so healthy, so fine and wonderful as this ever in her life. And all it took was blood, sweet blood, blood with living cells that brought her to life with such force she knew if she were ever denied the sensation, she would roar like a lion and take down armies with her bare hands.

  "Oh, Jesus," she said softly. "I have to move about. Mom, let me go."

  She shook off her mother's touch and rose from the bed in one swift motion that a mortal wouldn't have been able to see. She sped to the door of her room, down the hall and into the kitchen. She felt her parents and grandparents gathering at her back. She saw Celia bending over at the sink, washing a cup and saucer, and her scent was strongly human and female. At the kitchen table sat Carolyn, looking up from a sandwich in her hands, startled to see her cousin out of bed.

  Dell could sense everything, every movement around her, every thought. There was a fly behind the curtain at the window, buzzing, seeking exit. The tiled floor protested mightily as her feet stepped across it. The compressor on the refrigerator hummed like an aircraft readying for takeoff. Outside the walls she could hear a dog snuffling along the sidewalk, birds taking wing or landing a flutter on tree limbs. In the house next door she sensed their neighbor as she searched for keys to the car, muttering below her breath at how memory always failed her.

  The world was open and furious with sound and sensation. Dust motes filled the sunny windows, twirling like universes. Water sang in the pipes below the sink. She could even hear the whine of electricity that whipped down the wire in the walls to the outlets, feeding the appliances. Life! Life everywhere, in every atom, all of it weaker and without a tenth of the power she knew she possessed.