I spent the next few hours navigating toward it. It was early morning by the time I arrived, just before the sun began peeking above the horizon.
I stopped the submarine half a mile before reaching the sand and left the control cabin. I grabbed the largest cloak I could find—with the longest sleeves and hood—and tucked it beneath my arm. Then, climbing through the hatch and locking it behind me, I slipped into the waters, careful to hold the map above the waves with one hand.
I breathed deeply as I exited the water and began walking along the sand. I looked up and down, relieved that there was no sign of human life. What appeared to be a dense forest lined the beach. I took a closer look at the map again. I’d have to be fast. I didn’t want to be caught out in the sun. But I was still getting used to the speed at which I could travel. I had to be careful to not propel forward too suddenly in case I rammed right into a tree.
It wasn’t long before I reached a main road. The problem was, this map was so ancient, it wasn’t like there were road markings. There was just a black cross, and next to it was written Pilabres. It could be an entire town for all I knew. But it didn’t matter right now. I was just enjoying having something to distract my mind with.
I looked up at the sign post. None of the names matched the one on the map. I ran a few miles up the highway until I reached another sign post. Still no sign of the name.
I couldn’t help but think I was wasting my time at this point. I should just return to the submarine before I bump into a human.
I was about to turn around when I caught sight of a building with a large signpost above it. “Pilabres Motel.” Depictions of mountains were painted onto the sides of the building.
Crossing the road, I approached it cautiously. With each step I took, the smell of human blood grew stronger. I stopped in my tracks, holding my breath, not daring to go a step further.
Inside this motel, I would find my answer to what Pilabres was exactly. I strained to see through the tinted glass doors. I managed to make out a reception desk. From here, I couldn’t see anyone inside. If I was quick, I might just be able to swipe a few leaflets.
I started approaching the doors again. Slowly at first, before I began to run. I flew up the steps and swung open the door, holding my nose in an attempt to take in less of the scent. Not even daring to stay long enough to look at what the leaflets were, I grabbed one from each of the holders and stumbled back outside, gasping for breath. I hurtled forward, back across the road and into the forest again. I didn’t stop until I reached a clearing several miles away where I finally felt distant enough from the smell of humans to stop again.
My chest heaving, I began to examine the leaflets one by one. They all seemed useless to me at first—ads for scuba-diving excursions and hikes—but the last one I laid my eyes on held the answer.
Cascada Pilabres.
I’d learnt enough Spanish to know that cascada meant waterfall. I looked back at Mona’s map once again. Then looked at the map on the back of the pamphlet. I began hurtling through the trees again toward it. I crossed road after road that cut through the forest, and soon, I could hear crashing water.
I quickened my pace. It felt like I was just half a mile away from it now.
“Surround the area.”
It was a whisper, perhaps a quarter mile away. I stopped running. I began to detect the smell of human blood through the trees.
Footsteps rushed through the undergrowth, moving in around me. The scent of blood grew closer. My eyes shot upward to the trees towering above me, and with one massive leap, I sprang up to the top of the nearest one to me. I climbed to the top, peeking out above the canopy of leaves. I scanned the area all around until my eyes fell on the tip of a cliff. A waterfall—about a mile away. Cascada Pilabres, no doubt.
I looked downward. The sounds of humans approaching were growing louder and louder, and now I could make out a faint beeping approaching along with them. Some sort of device. I couldn’t imagine what a group of humans would be doing in the jungle at such an early hour, or how they could have detected my movement from so far away. But I remained deathly still in that tree as I stared down at a group of seven men beginning to gather in the clearing down below. Peering through the gaps of the leaves, I saw that they were all holding black guns. It was hard to make out their faces. They wore hats that cast shadows over their faces, and some were wearing their collars zipped up high.
As they looked all around the clearing, their guns held up, I was expecting them to pass by and continue through the forest. But they didn’t. The beeping continued, and as they approached closer to my tree, it seemed to be getting louder.
Who are these people?
My breath hitched as all their eyes turned upward. I did my best to keep still, hoping I would merge with the darkness of the tree, but one of them pointed and hissed, “Up there.”
I had about a second to consider what to do next as all seven men raised their guns and began firing. I didn’t know who these people were, but something told me that I didn’t want one of those bullets hitting my skin.
Kicking with all my strength against the branch I was perched on, I leapt through the air and landed in the next tree about ten feet away. Bullets ripped through the leaves, following me as I landed. I had barely a few seconds to gain balance before I leapt onto the next tree. Whoever these people were, they were bent on catching me. They were following me on the ground. I hurried my movements, leaping from tree to tree faster and faster, until I hoped that I was nothing but a blur to them.
I kept leaping from branch to branch until eventually their sounds became distant and I finally felt it safe to slow my pace again. Wiping sweat from my brow, I stared up at the brightening sky. The sun’s rays were close to peeking out from the horizon now.
If what those men had was a tracking device, it wouldn’t be long before they chased me down again. I had to keep moving. I also had to abandon plans of trying to get to the gate, at least for now. I climbed down from the tree and, as soon as my feet hit the ground, I began racing through the trees, stopping every now and then to listen and reorient myself in case I heard the men again. I was faster running on foot than swinging through the trees. I tried to make a wide circle around the men, so that I could get back to the road, make my way back to the beach and reenter the sub before dawn broke.
As the trees began to thin, I breathed out in relief. I was almost at the first road now. I was about to make the last steps up to the concrete when the smell of fresh blood consumed me. It came on so suddenly, so unexpectedly, it hit me like a punch to the gut. I’d thought I was still satisfied from my previous victim’s blood, but now I doubled over with hunger again.
What is wrong with me? I didn’t even feed that long ago.
I cast my eyes about the forest, straining to hear any sounds of humans approaching. I heard nothing for at least a mile, where I could hear the distant crunching of leaves and that same monotonous beeping.
The smell was beginning to drive me delirious. It seemed that each second that passed, it became more and more intense. And then I heard it. The creaking of a floorboard.
My eyes shot upward to see, high up in the trees, a treehouse of sorts. I didn’t need to be a genius to guess that whatever this was, it was the base of those men who’d been chasing me. Holding my breath, trying to not make a sound, I lurched forward again, trying to get away from the treehouse before my darkness took over and I climbed up there and murdered the first human in sight.
But before I could reach the road, a sharp pain hit the back of my right shoulder. A needle-like object stuck right into it. Behind me, a man in black clothes and a balaclava watched, the needle gun still raised as he observed me.
I stumbled, reaching for it and yanking it out of my shoulder. Grunting, I staggered forward again toward the road before he could aim another at me. But I barely even made it across the concrete before my legs began to feel heavy, my eyelids weighed down.
I forced myself into t
he shadow of the trees, but about ten feet later, my legs gave way beneath me. My head hit a rock and darkness finally claimed me.
Chapter 3: Ben
Fluorescent light blinded me when my eyelids lifted again. As my eyes adjusted to the brightness, my vision came into focus. I was staring at a man with cropped hair and a rugged, pockmarked face. He was sitting in a chair, about five feet away from me.
His smell filled my nostrils. I could practically feel the beating of his heart, the rush of his blood through his veins. I tried to stand up, but thick chains held me back. I was fastened to a wall. Using all my strength, I pulled against them. They didn’t budge in the slightest.
I cast my eyes about the room. Other than the man sitting in front of me, it was completely empty. The lighting was made only harsher by the white walls. Opposite me was a tinted glass window, and next to it in the corner was a door.
“Who are you?” I spat, clenching my fists. It was all I could do to even speak. The hunger I felt for this human was consuming me.
He maintained a poker face as he looked at me steadily. Slowly, he brushed aside the cuff of his right sleeve and raised his forearm to me. Etched into his tan skin was a brand I recognized. It was the same brand that my father had imprinted on his back. The brand of a hawk. The brand of the hunters…
My eyes must have registered surprise, because he nodded slowly, giving me a knowing smile.
“You seem to recognize this,” he said in a nasally voice, brandishing his forearm. “Which coven do you belong to?”
I bit down on my lower lip. If these people were hunters, the last thing they needed to find out was my identity. They’d try to use me to break into The Shade, or worse.
I kept my lips sealed, staring at him defiantly. He pulled out a gun from beneath his jacket and closed the distance between us, holding it up against my temple. “You might want to answer when spoken to, vampire. Believe me when I say the only thing keeping you from death is my curiosity, which will be quickly spent.”
If he was going to kill me anyway, there was no point in me cooperating. When I still refused to answer, he raised the gun and brought its metal edge smashing down against my skull. The pain seared through my head, blinding me momentarily.
He knelt down in front of me and gripped my jaw, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“Answer me,” he growled.
Despite the pain in my skull, I tried to force myself to think straight. Clearly, my identity was more interesting to him than he was letting on. Otherwise why didn’t he just kill me already?
“One bullet from this gun, and it will burn you up inside. Do you really want to risk that?” A female had just entered the room. She appeared to be in her late twenties, ash-blonde hair tied up in a bun. She looked down at me with cold grey eyes as she placed a hand on the shoulder of the man.
I glared at her, refusing to flinch beneath her gaze.
“It seems we need to try a different approach,” she muttered to the man beneath her breath.
The man’s eyes remained glued on me until they both opened the door and exited the room. I breathed out heavily, rubbing my injured head with my hands.
It was clear that they wanted something from me, and they wanted it enough to not kill me yet. It was in my best interest to take my time in answering them.
I sank back against the wall, staring at the tinted glass, through which they were likely now staring at me. Hunters. My grandfather had gone on a mission almost two decades ago to shut down the order of the hunters. But so many human kidnappings had happened since, I supposed that it was only a matter of time before they started up their cause again.
But why would they be set up in the middle of this forest? Could they be aware of the gate nearby? If so, how would they have found out?
The click of the door interrupted my thoughts. Three men entered the room, including the man I’d woken up to. One of them carried a ladder. He positioned it in the center of the room and began climbing upward. I stared up at the ceiling for the first time. The man loosened several hatches at all four corners of the square ceiling, then pushed a button on the side of the wall. The lights flickered off and the ceiling began to lift. Sun spilled down into the room as the roof lifted higher and higher. Eventually it folded out of sight completely, leaving the room completely submerged in sunshine. The forest sounds that filled the chamber told me that we were still among the trees, likely in the giant tree house I’d spotted.
My skin erupted in agony, as though someone had thrown boiling oil over me. I felt my skin begin to blister and crackle.
I could barely even see through the brightness. I squinted, trying to make out the three figures approaching me.
“Perhaps now you’ll be more amenable,” the pockmarked man said, resuming his seat opposite me.
I groaned and thrashed in my seat, trying to position myself so that the sun hit as little of me as possible. But it was impossible.
“Two simple questions to start with. Your name, and your coven.”
I was in so much pain it was a struggle to even pay attention to his words. I was about to hiss out a made-up name and place when half a dozen hooded figures leapt through the top of the roof.
And everything that happened next was a blur.
All three hunters leapt back from me and whipped out guns. They pointed them at the figures, who were moving with speed far too great for humans. Bullets erupted, ricocheting off the walls. I had to duck as one came hurtling toward my head, and one only narrowly missed my shoulder. I knew now what would happen if even one of those bullets hit me. I’d burn alive within seconds.
I stared as claws shot out from the hooded figures and slashed all three men through the throat, leaving them bleeding on the ground. Hot blood spilled from their necks, soaking the floor. There were shouts outside the room as more people attempted to enter. The hooded figures leapt on them as soon as they approached. I couldn’t see what was happening on the other side of the glass window, but there were yells, cries of pain, guns going off. There was a deafening crack as a bullet broke through the tinted window. Had I been even a few seconds late in ducking, the bullet would have gone right through my brain. Whoever was on the other side of the wall had attempted to end me.
The gunshots began to get less frequent, and soon the six hooded figures were marching back into the room, three unconscious men in their clutches. They turned their gaze toward me, and in the blink of an eye, five leapt up to the roof. I was expecting the sixth to follow, but his masked face remained turned to me.
“Who are you?” I choked, trying to steady my voice amidst the pain.
Ignoring my question, he approached my chair and bent down, staring into my eyes. Then he backed away again, and I was sure he was about to leave me here to die when, instead of jumping upward, he moved back out through the door. I heard the sound of rummaging and then the clinking of keys. He returned and, sliding the key into the locks on either side of my wrists, gripped me by the collar and pulled me to a standing position. He placed an arm around my waist for support. I gripped his shoulder as he leapt upward with me. Even in my weakened state, it wasn’t hard for my body to make the jump.
We found ourselves on the roof of the treehouse, overlooking a dense mass of trees. He paused, pointing down at the ground where his five companions waited with the three hunters.
We leapt down and I was relieved when we began running forward. The sun was much less vivid down here, the dense leaves blocking out almost everything but a small trickle of sunshine. We all kept stride with one another as we rushed through the trees.
These must be vampires.
I tried not to look at the blood dripping from the human being carried by the vampire directly in front of me. It was all I could do to not stop and start licking it off the ground.
It wasn’t long until we neared the shore. We stopped just as the ocean came into view, so as to remain in the shade of the trees lining the beach.
As we all pull
ed to a stop, I stared at the six masked men again and repeated my question. “Who are you?”
The vampire nearest to me removed his mask. He had long brown hair tied up in a bun at the back of his head, a square jaw and sharp blue eyes.
“Jeramiah Stone.” He looked me over with suspicion. “Who are you?”
“Joseph Brunson,” I replied, lying with as little hesitation as I could manage. It was the first name that popped into my head—the name of a friend I’d met through summer camp a few years ago.
The vampire standing to my left removed his mask, revealing cropped blond hair and brown eyes.
“Michael Gallow,” he said. “Where are you from, Joseph? What got you caught up with the hunters?”
As Michael removed his disguise, the other five followed suit. That was when I realized that two of them were female.
“I escaped from an island governed by the black witches,” I lied. “I was part of Caleb Achilles’ clan.”
Jeramiah’s and Michael’s eyes narrowed on me.
“How could you escape?” Jeramiah asked. “Wasn’t a binding spell cast upon you like the rest of them?”
“Indeed, one was. But I was to be transferred from Caleb’s to Stellan’s island. It was lifted temporarily. I took the chance to escape during transit. Because once I reached the island I’d never have another chance.”
“How did you get here?”
“I leapt into the waters, managed eventually to get pulled up onto a boat, and ended up here. I got picked up by the hunters.”
“So you’re a rogue,” Jeramiah concluded, looking at me steadily, a look of interest in his eyes.
“Yes,” I replied.
“This forest,” a black-haired female muttered. “Why here of all places? You know about the gate?”
A Turn of Tides Page 2