Staked!

by Candace Wondrak

  Privacy?

  Now I was the one blinking stupidly. Why would Kass need privacy with Gabriel? They were like siblings. They shared too much with each other. They grew up with each other. They were just kids.

  What did they know about anything?

  Chapter Twelve – Kass

  The look on Crixis’s face yesterday when I marched to his door and practically sucker-punched him as I simply said “Tomorrow” was a look I wouldn’t forget. It was also a look that stayed on my mind, all throughout the night, and it remained in my head, even as I stood there, in the hospital room, staring down at Gabriel.

  Guilt.

  Guilt swept over me, flooded my insides. Gabriel looked so harmless, peaceful, almost, laying there in the bed. I glanced to Liz, wanting to leave even though we’d only just got here, and she mistook it as a sign that I wanted to be alone with him.

  Alone, with the blonde boy. Alone, with my best friend in a coma.

  Why would I want to be alone with him?

  Liz shuffled out with the two guys in tow, closing the door behind her. Maybe she thought I needed alone time because this was my first time visiting, other than day one, when I ran out of here.

  I looked back to Gabriel, slowly sitting on the chair beside the bed. I tentatively reached for the hand closest to me, the one that wasn’t hooked up to tubes and machines. People held hands with friends in comas, right?

  His hand was strong and pale in mine, and I traced his knuckles, gazing steadily at the tattoos on the same hand.

  “I miss you,” I whispered, at first, feeling odd talking to someone who wasn’t there. It was like I was talking to myself. “I miss you so much. It’s just not the same without you, you know. You’re my best friend Gabriel.” I closed my eyes. “God. If this is what you felt when I…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Because it was just so horrible. I felt awful. I felt dead.

  “I need you to wake up,” I softly spoke, squeezing his hand as I opened my eyes to his vacant, relaxed face. “I’m not doing so well without you here. I know I’m not one for smart decisions, but I think I’m crossing a line that I never would’ve crossed if you were here to slap some sense into me.” I referenced my deal with Crixis, knowing that that’s where I was headed after this trip.

  Gabriel would’ve yelled at me the moment I brought it up to him. He wouldn’t have let me. There were some lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Crixis was our enemy from the beginning, before we even knew his name or his backstory. He’d killed so many people in his life, some of them very important to me. I had no business training with him or seeing him or spending any time with him.

  “You’re my rock,” I told him. “You keep me sane. I wouldn’t have lasted in that stupid school without you. I wouldn’t know what a big deal Star Wars and Harry Potter were without you.” I smiled, my emotions too much to bare. “I miss you and I need you, so wake up.”

  The blonde boy on the bed remained still, his vitals steady.

  “Without you, I’m lost. Without you, I’m just a girl making bad decisions. Just a girl who’s lost everything. Don’t make me lose you, too.” I set his hand on the bed, resting it beside him, above the blanket. I stood and leaned over him, my hair falling onto his face. “I can’t lose you, so come back to me.” With that, I set a careful, precise kiss on his cheek. I wasn’t like him; I couldn’t plant one on his unresponsive lips like he did to me.

  Stealing my first kiss, the jerk.

  This wasn’t a Disney movie. Gabriel didn’t awaken with the touch of my lips. He stayed still, motionless even as I left the room. I spotted Michael and Liz and Max in the cafeteria, and told them I didn’t feel good, that I was going to walk home. Liz offered to drive, but I shook my head no. Michael nodded once, letting me go. He must’ve known I needed space.

  I didn’t want to steel myself for the worst, but it was so hard to look at his face and believe that he’d get better. I wasn’t an eternal optimist. I was a pessimist. I was stupid. And, finally, I was tired of it. I was tired of it all.

  Did being a Purifier mean that I was fated to lose everything?

  Gabriel was the only thing I had left, in the scheme of things. He was my one steady, my one constant. I never knew how much I looked forward to his sarcastic quips and his deadpanning. I never realized how much I loved his quirky habits and the way he called me a racoon in the morning.

  Gabriel, I willed, wake up.

  Chapter Thirteen – Gabriel

  My eyes opened.

  I stared at the ceiling, at the white square tiles, at the grey speckles in each square. My cheek tingled, and I reached a hand to it, touching my face. The skin underneath my fingers—my skin—felt hot. I wanted to touch the other side of my face, to see if all of me felt so warm, but when my other hand rose, I found tubes connecting me to machines, needles sunken into me. I used my free hand to yank them out as I struggled to sit.

  Why did my bones feel so tired? My teeth ached. My head hurt. I couldn’t remember how I got here. I couldn’t remember anything.

  Not my name. Not my past. Not anything. I never felt more alone.

  Well, maybe I had, but I didn’t remember it.

  I glanced to my arm. The needles didn’t even draw blood as I tore them out. They hung onto me limply, half-heartedly. My skin was spotless, faultless, without a blemish or any markings. Just skin.

  Why did the sight of my bare skin cause me so much uneasiness?

  I tossed the blanket off me and swung my legs off the bed. It was more than clear I was in a hospital, but for what? No sooner had I wondered when I stood, and practically fell right over. My legs were like stone, my muscles not wanting to work. How long was I out? I didn’t know why I bothered to ask myself that question, because I had no answer.

  After holding onto the edge of the bed for a minute, I shuffled my way to the door. The metal knob was extremely cool, almost jarring, as I pushed it down and opened it. I had to blink multiple times for my eyes to get used to the utterly white hall that I stepped into. My legs, at least, were stronger, recovering fast.

  The other rooms near me were shut off, their doors each holding a numbered plague beside them, and a window with its curtains drawn. I spotted a desk station down the hall and made my way to it. The nurses and doctors would know who I was. They had to.

  I stood at the desk station for at least five minutes. No one came. The computer screens were black. Now that I thought about it, I didn’t hear anything. No commotion, no alarms ringing. There were no beeping machines or hustling doctors. I looked at the round clock above the desk.

  The second hand was frozen.

  My stare did not move from the clock, my expression intensifying. This was weird, right? Normally, those things moved. Constantly. My fingers gripped the edges of the counter, and for a moment, I swore the clock was about to jump back to life—so sure that my grip on the laminate hardened. It hardened so much that the laminate counter snapped in my grip.

  What?

  I jerked back, moving my stare from the clock to my hands. In front of me, a piece of the countertop fell to the floor, and still, no nurses came to my aid. Not a single sound in the hall, except for my erratic breathing.

  “Okay. I’m sure there’s an explanation for that,” I spoke aloud, startled at the sound of my own voice. Did I always sound like that? “Is anyone here?” I shouted once I overcame the disgust that went hand in hand with hearing your own voice and nothing else. “Hello? Any doctors? Nurses? Any medically-trained personnel in the building?”

  The hallway remained, unfortunately, empty.

  I started walking down the hall, away from the room I came from. Within ten steps, I was power-walking. In twenty, I was jogging, my hospital gown flapping in the wind from my movement. My backside felt pretty bare.

  Hall after hall, station after station—there was no one. It was like I was alone in the hospital, which was ridiculous. Hospitals were always full of sick and dying people, and the workers tryin
g to save them—wait a second. Did that mean that I was sick and dying? I couldn’t remember who I was, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t like that too much.

  Eventually, somehow, I made it to a large, open space that had to have been a cafeteria. Gift shops decorated its one side, bears and balloons on full display, and its other side held dozens of round, circular tables in front of a wall of windows. So much light from the outside world, it was blinding. At least four chairs were tucked into each table, and there was not a single thing out of place.

  Everything was shiny and new. Everything was clean. I knew this was a hospital, but come on. No place on earth looked like this, even a hospital.

  I had to get out. It was the only way. Maybe once I got out into the real world, I’d be able to find someone who could tell me just what was going on here. I could honestly say that I was not a fan of being kept in the dark.

  Fists clenching, I stormed to the emergency exit in the cafeteria. Heaving a breath, I exited the hospital…

  …and wound right back in the first hallway, like I’d stepped out of my room instead of out of the cafeteria.

  “What the…” I whispered under my breath, not so much a question as it was an exclamation. So I was alone, in a hospital? A hospital that had no exits? A labyrinth hospital? Seemed kind of far-fetched. Something had to be going on here, something I had no clue about.

  A carnival was in town, and the staff took all the patients.

  The next World War happened, and everyone was in their secret underground bunkers.

  Or, maybe…just maybe, this was a dream. Maybe this wasn’t real at all. I could be stuck inside of my own head, like in those movies. What movies, you asked? I didn’t know, but it seemed like a good thing to compare this to.

  I found a unisex bathroom and barged in without a worry that I’d catch someone squatting or aiming. I was completely alone here, so at least I was safe from that. I headed straight for the faucet and turned on the water, leaning over the porcelain as I watched. Believe it or not, no water came out.

  Mouth agape, I glanced up to the mirror, nearly jumping out of my skin when I saw my reflection. Black eyes—and not just the irises. The entire eye, both of them, all black and smoky. My skin: chock full of thin tattoos, even my face and neck. Through my reflection’s open mouth, I saw sharpened teeth. Dark hair.

  I glanced down to my arms, found that they were still free of markings and tattoos. No sharp claws there, either. It was so odd, though, because every move I made, the mirror-me mimicked it perfectly.

  “Nope. Can’t do it,” I said simply, throwing my hands up and walking away, my devilish image doing the same. I pushed out of the bathroom and sat in one of the chairs in the hall, hanging my head down.

  What was going on?

  “Good. You’re finally here,” a voice oozed into the quiet space, shattering the silence.

  I looked up, finding a man leaning against the opposite wall, his black cloak a startling contrast to the white walls and flowery picture near him. My reflection from the bathroom—minus the eerie black eyes and sharp teeth. He did have the tattoos, though.

  “I’ve been waiting,” he added grumpily, sending a frown my way.

  “Uh,” I muttered, straightening in the chair. “Who are you?”

  The man who looked like me rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. I see you’re a bright one. Not sure what that says about me.” His head gestured to the empty cafeteria. “Let’s start this thing and get it over with. I’m sure you’re just as tired of being here as I am.” And with that, the other me—the very rude and insulting one—walked away, leaving me wide-eyed and confused.

  The other me was arrogant, wasn’t he?

  Chapter Fourteen – Kass

  This was such a bad idea.

  Really, it was probably the worst I ever had.

  Who knew what other crap this idea would bring with it?

  Training with Crixis. I needed a slap in the head. The Daywalker was conniving, evil, cruel and ruthless—not to mention the fact that he could invite himself into my dreams whenever he wanted. Kissing Crixis again was not on my bucket list—but beating the living daylights out of him was.

  Needless to say, I didn’t go home after leaving the hospital, after pleading with an unconscious Gabriel to wake his butt up. Sure, the house might sit right across the street, but it wasn’t home. It wasn’t even Crixis’s home. It belonged to a guy named Maurice.

  I hit the doorbell, shifting my weight from one foot to another.

  It wasn’t Crixis’s cruel face that answered; an old man, bone-thin and covered in grey hair and wrinkles, swung the door open with a smile of teeth that couldn’t be natural. He wore a mismatch of colors on his short-sleeved, Hawaiian shirt, and I realized where Crixis got his clothes lately.

  Maurice’s fashion sense wasn’t so good.

  Recognition dawned on Maurice’s face, and he motioned for me to head inside, saying, “Eve. Come in, come in. How was your flight? David tells me you’re really busy with your new job—what did he call it?”

  I followed Maurice inside, immediately surveying my surroundings. Everything in this house felt older than mine. Original woodwork, untouched by paint, decorated the arches from the entry area to the kitchen and living room. The staircase was a winding, curled structure, elegant in a way most houses couldn’t say that they had nowadays. It was a nice house, though a little dusty.

  Maurice carried on, “David’s upstairs.” Before I managed to reach the staircase, I felt a callous hand grip my wrist. As I turned to look back at him, he said, “The boy loves you, even if he doesn’t show it.” There was a pause, and a shadow passed over his gaze, like he remembered something sad from his past. “He takes after his father, for that.” And then the old man gave me a wink as he released my wrist. “Go easy on him.” He wandered to the living room, whistling.

  If I wasn’t already depressed with the Gabriel-coma thing, that encounter would’ve pushed me over the edge. Why did Crixis choose this house? Why not let him be? Why not choose another house in the neighborhood? Just to be cruel, I guessed.

  I stomped up the stairs, tossing glances in each room I passed. Most had their furniture covered in white clothes, as if they weren’t even used. What would an old man need with a house this big?

  I heard the shower going, and as I waited, I wandered into the closest bedroom. I couldn’t tell if this was Maurice’s room or the one Crixis took over. The pictures hanging on the wall held the faces of Maurice, and a couple I chose to assume was David and Eve. David was a regular-looking, middle-aged man—nothing remarkable about him at all. Same with Eve. A blonde, happy, middle-aged woman who’d raised kids and worked every day in her life.

  Jealousy swept over me. I’d never get that old. I’d never have kids, not that I wanted them.

  “I trust Maurice was good to you? Let me guess: he thought you were Evelyn.” A snickering voice came from behind me, and I spun to glare at him. Crixis stood, leaning on the doorframe, toweling his wet hair and wearing nothing but jeans. Jeans whose buttons were undone. The tanned, muscular body of a warrior, a fighter, called my attention.

  Gabriel’s body, nowhere near as tan, looked kind of like that.

  I averted my eyes from his impressive abdomen, glaring at him. “What you are doing to Maurice is cruel.”

  Tossing the towel on the bed, he cocked his head. “Is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, in case you’ve forgotten, I am a cruel person.” Crixis went to get a shirt from the dresser. This time it was a camouflage, green and brown t-shirt. “So very cruel. A mass-murdering sadist.” His bright green eyes turned to me as he slipped the shirt on. “Tell me, Kass, are you here to train with a mass-murdering sadist? You might not like my methods.” He took a step towards me, eyeing me up like I was meat.

  I crossed my arms, not liking where his eyes were. “You should choose another house, if you’re really going to stick around here.”

  Crixis let out a har
sh sigh. “That again?” He seemed irritated. With a flash, the bedroom door was closed. There might’ve been a point in my life where I would’ve been anxious to be in a room with him. Now, I was past that point. Being alone with Crixis didn’t faze me. I already died, and he had many chances before and after to kill me. Worrying about dying seemed so overrated.

  He moved in front of me. “What if I told you that David died five years ago? What if I told you that a few months ago, his insurance no longer would pay for an aide? What if I told you that I’ve been paying his bills and straightening out his finances so that he can stay in his house of thirty years until he dies?”

  I wasn’t having it. He’d done too much to me to merit acceptance. “I’d tell you that I couldn’t hear you because there was too much bullshit in the room.”

  He smirked. “I suppose I deserve that.”

  “You suppose right.”

  “Well, then shall we cut the—” He used my word. “—bullshit and begin?” Crixis sized me up. “You look like you’ve gained some weight in your lethargy after the battle with Serphira.”

  My fists clenched. It hadn’t been that long since then—and I certainly hadn’t gained weight.

  He chuckled. “Come. We’ll train in the attic.”

  I held back as he led me through the hall and to a second set of stairs hidden behind an oddly-placed door. We emerged into a dusty attic, and he flashed to the dangling string, pulling it, shedding a bit of light on us.

  “I don’t know how Raphael trained you, or your training beforehand, but let me say this: all those times you and your boyfriend beat my plots—that was pure luck. I assure you, not once in my life, other than when dealing with you, have my plots never not gone to plan.”