When we got to the door, Rumor stopped. She looked at Jamie. “Thank you for trying to help my friend,” she said and then went inside leaving Jamie and I to stand looking at each other not knowing what to think. I told Jamie what she had said.
“That woman had no pulse when I knelt down. She was as dead as a corpse. But after she turned, I felt her blood. She had a pulse. It was like her heart had started again.”
“The blood,” I said, “the undead blood revived her?”
Jamie shook his head. “I don’t know, but . . .”
I looked back at the boat.
“What does it mean?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
The rest of the night passed uneventfully. I don’t know if Rumor decided I was too dangerous to mess with, had another plan waiting for me, was expressing true gratitude toward Jamie, or had just taken the night off, but neither I nor Frenchie were disturbed that night. I knew I should stay awake. I knew I should try to figure out what to do next, but my body could bear no more. Adrenaline can only take you so far. After all, I was human. I lay down that night in Jamie’s arms and slept soundly.
Chapter 29
Early the next morning there was a sharp rap on the door. “Layla,” I head Tom call. “Layla . . . Jamie,” he called again, knocking hard.
I jumped out of bed and unbarred the door, flinging it open.
Tom, looking frantic, was on the other side. “You need to come quickly,” he said.
Jamie was just rolling out of bed. “Is it Ian?”
Tom shook his head, and then noticing our state of undress, looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry, guys,” he said, “but it’s urgent.”
Jamie and I slid our clothes on and grabbed our weapons. Rushing outside, the three of us crossed the nicely manicured lawns of the HarpWind Grand to the lakeside. There, the HarpWind was poised at the edge of a cliff 40 feet above the water. Several people leaned against a fence and looked below. I noticed that Dusty and Buddie were there; they both looked very upset.
As I walked toward the fence, my blood began to cool. Jamie and I looked over. There, far down on the rocks below, lay the body of Pastor Frank.
“I was out walking,” Buddie said, “when I saw him there.”
Just then a group of five people from the hotel ran across the lawn and joined us.
“What is it?” a woman with wild curly red hair asked. She looked over the side.
“Another accident,” a bystander said. She had been standing by Dusty and Buddie when Jamie, Tom, and I had arrived. I looked at her. She was an older woman, about seventy or so, with curly gray hair.
The red-haired woman instructed the two men with her to go down and get the body.
“I’m coming too,” I said, joining them. The others from Hamletville were fast on my heels.
“Oh, it’s okay, we can take care of it,” she replied.
“I said I’m going. We all are,” I told her sternly, and we followed the two men as they wound down a narrow flight of stairs on the cliff-side. When we got to the bottom, we jogged over to Pastor Frank’s body. The cold lake waves were breaking on his feet. He lay face down.
Buddie leaned down and turned him over. His face was frozen in the grimace of death. He was pale white, his skin tinged blue around the edges. His eyes, a sort of light golden brown color, were alarmingly wide open.
I heard Dusty inhale sharply.
Jamie leaned down and closed the Pastor’s eyes. He turned and looked up at me.
“What happened?” Tom wondered aloud.
One of the two men looked back up at the others standing by the fence. “Must have slipped. Ground is still wet. If you’re not careful, it’s really easy to fall.”
I looked at the man. Did he really think we were that stupid?
“That’s why you have a fence though, isn’t it?” Buddie asked, and I watched his eyes work. He was calculating: distance, trajectory, broken vegetation, injuries. When he was done, he looked at me. Buddie shook his head.
I nodded.
The two men bent to pick up Pastor Frank’s body.
“Here, let us,” Dusty said, grabbing the Pastor’s shoulders. Jamie took his legs and Buddie, Tom, and I followed behind. The two men led us back up the stairs. At the top, Jamie and Dusty, each out of breath, lay the body down.
The red-haired woman kneeled and looked over the pastor. “I’m sorry,” she told us. “There is a garden in the back of the hotel. We’ve been interring people there as needed.”
Buddie had moved away from the group and was examining the cliff edge.
“You have that need a lot?” I asked.
She looked sharply at me. “People have come with injuries, diseases, as I am sure you can guess. You were out there. You know what it was like. Unfortunately, some guests have not made it.”
She motioned to the men to take Pastor Frank. “We’ll see to him,” she said.
They left then, taking the body with them.
I went to the older woman who was standing with the other bystanders. She had teared up. “Such bad luck,” she said, setting her hand on my arm. “He was a priest, wasn’t he? That is so unfortunate. We didn’t have any men of the holy cloth here until he arrived.”
The holy cloth. “You said, another accident?”
She nodded. “I was here on vacation when the outbreak began. I’ve seen so many newcomers found—it’s wonderful—but there have been a few unfortunate accidents. It’s so sad, to endure so much and then die in a fall or the like. Truly a shame. I’m sorry for your loss,” she told me and patted my arm. She turned, and with a small group of others, headed back to the hotel.
I joined Tom, Jamie, and Dusty. Buddie joined us a moment later. “He definitely did not slip and fall,” Buddie told us.
I gazed out at the lake. Beautiful pink and purple clouds, the last of the shimmering sunrise, were just dissipating.
“What do you mean?” Tom asked Buddie.
“I mean, however he died, it wasn’t like they said it was.”
They looked at me. I shook my head, not knowing what to say. I guess Rumor got her payback after all.
Jamie looked worried. “I need to check on Ian.”
I nodded. “Let’s make sure everyone else is accounted for,” I said, pulling the list of room numbers from my pocket.
“We’ll get it,” Dusty said, nodding to Buddie and taking the list from my hands.
“Who is with Frenchie? Tom, can you go check on her and the girls? I’m going after Pastor Frank’s body,” I said.
Tom nodded, and he, Buddie, and Dusty headed back to the hotel.
Jamie took me by the arm. “Wait for me.”
“Ian is so vulnerable. He needs you with him,” I replied. “I’ll be fine. I’ll come as soon as I get some answers. Besides, it’s daytime,” I said.
Jamie pulled me into a quick kiss, and we headed off in opposite directions. I went east, following the direction they had taken Pastor Frank. They’d went around the side of the hotel toward the back.
As I rounded the side of the island, I kept one watchful eye on the HarpWind and another on the nearby grounds. It was still very early, and the mist was just clearing. In some places it was still quite foggy. I had been walking past rows of small ponds when the mist got thick. The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I felt the familiar buzz of the supernatural in the air. Carefully, I sought for the cliff-side to orient myself. As I neared it, the mist cleared. I could see very thick vegetation growing in a sloping angle toward the water, not a drop-off like the front of the hotel. And then, in the distance, for just a moment, I spotted tall trees that seemed to emerge from the misty side of the lake. Then, the brush rustled.
I pulled my sword.
A moment later a red fox appeared before me. She sat and looked expectantly at me. I knew at once the creature was not what she seemed. “Go ahead. I’ll follow,” I told her.
She trotted into the brush. At first it looked like I would need to slash a path through
the thicket, but then I noticed some very old, eroded wooden stairs embedded in the slopping earth.
Pushing the thicket aside, I followed her.
Low to the ground, the fox bolted easily through the thickets. I, on the other hand, pushed my way through. Scratched from head to toe and covered in cobwebs, I finally emerged in a swampy area. High cattails grew there. I looked back. Only the roof of the HarpWind was visible.
Sitting on a grassy tuft, the fox waited. Once I’d turned to her, she led me across the wet terrain. Moments later we emerged on the rocky shoreline. In the distance were the tall trees I had spotted. They were on a small island that was, perhaps, fifty feet from the shore of Enita Island.
The fox bounced across the rocky shoreline to an old row-boat that sat on the rocks. She crawled inside and sat on the bench.
I walked over to the boat. There were oars inside.
“Are you sure?” I asked her.
She laid down.
I pushed the boat into the water and hopped in, expecting the old thing to sink at any minute. It didn’t. I pulled out the oars and rowed toward the neighboring island.
Within ten minutes, the prow of the row boat slid onto the gravel shoreline.
The fox hopped out and waited for me.
I jumped out and dragged the boat ashore. The island was very small but was dotted with exceptionally tall pine trees. The shoreline where we had landed was pebble, slopping upward to a very high bank.
The fox turned and headed up the bank into the woodsy area. I followed. The grass at my feet mixed with rocks and pine needles. A fresh, earthy smell filled the early spring air. We walked clockwise around the island until we reached the side furthest from the hotel. There the fox turned toward the center of the island. After a few moments, we came to a clearing.
I was standing at the top of some earthen steps that loomed about eight feet above a circular pit at the island’s center. The tall pine trees grew in a circle around the pit. From this vantage, I found myself looking down on a labyrinth. Stones had been set into the ground in a circular pattern that looked like a coiled snake. At the center was the head. A long, snaky tongue extended from its mouth, spiraling with increasing smaller stones. The entrance to the labyrinth was at the bottom of the stairs. There, round rocks, resembling a snake’s rattle, were piled.
The fox looked back at me and headed into the labyrinth.
I took a deep breath and followed.
As I wove around the circle, I could feel the energy rising. It was that same strange feeling I’d had before but something about it seemed more intense, wilder. A pulsing feeling of electricity made my ears ring almost painfully. The chaotic energy made my skin itch. With each step I took I felt it even more.
As I neared the center, my heart started racing. The island’s tall trees loomed overhead. Moments later, I stood close to the center. I stopped before I reached the head of the snake. The fox trotted into the space in front of me and then, before my eyes, shifted into the guise of a human woman. She wore leather pants and boots and blousy cotton shirt. Her hair was dark, but the sun’s ray breaking through the trees gave her hair a reddish hue. She wore a bow strapped across her chest and a dagger hung from her belt. Her face was painted on one cheek; three lines blended into a circular solar image. She stood very near the center of the spiral.
“Welcome to Ëde-ka Island,” she said.
I nodded in respect.
“Ëde-ka means sun. Here,” she said, motioning to the labyrinth, “you stand at the heart of the sun, at the head of the snake.”
“The other island, Enita, that is the moon?”
She nodded. “The moon, the crescent. That is why the usurpers have taken the island; they are creatures of darkness. But they have bastardized that sacred lunar space,” she said angrily. “Here, however, they can touch nothing. The sun is their enemy.”
“They are vampires?” I said.
“That is what you call them. They are not from this land. They came from abroad and took over this holy space.”
I looked back toward the HarpWind. It was a shadow in the distance.
“You must leave this place,” she told me.
“They won’t let us just walk off.”
“No sooner than a hunter lets the rabbit off the spit. It will be necessary for you to destroy them. This place, however,” she said, motioning to the labyrinth, “is a doorway. We have long kept such doors secret, locked to your kind. But we are in a new world now. Destroy them, and our doors will be unlocked to you. Complete the spiral,” she said, motioning to the snake’s tongue, “and you will pass through the door.”
“Did Peryn send you?”
She cocked her head and looked at me. “Peryn?”
“Peryn, the forest spirit. She’s like you, right?”
The woman simply looked at me.
“Why are you helping us?” I asked.
“You are now on the fringe just as we are, just as those dark creatures are,” she said, motioning back to the HarpWind. “But the outcome is still unclear. Your kind has finally gone entirely windigo. Yet some of you still remain. We are not sure why,” she said.
“The gateway, where does it lead?” I asked.
She half smiled then. “We shall meet again, I think,” she said, then turned, morphing back into a fox. She trotted to the center of the spiral and then disappeared.
The unanswered question hung in the air.
Chapter 30
By the time I got back to Enita Island it was nearly noon. I knew Jamie would be worried, but I could not let the issue of Pastor Frank’s death go.
I made my way to the back of the hotel and found the small garden they were using as a cemetery. I noticed right away that no graves were marked, there were no crosses, and there were at least thirty bodies buried there.
The two men who had taken Pastor Frank’s body were dropping the final shovels of dirt on a fresh grave. They looked up when I approached them.
“I want to see the Pastor’s body,” I told them.
One of them smiled sardonically and turned away. The other looked piercingly at me with steel gray eyes. “He is here,” he said, looking down.
“You buried him already?”
The man didn’t have to answer me.
I bit my tongue cutting off every sarcastic remark that wanted to leap from my mouth. The less they suspected I knew, the better. I turned and left, ignoring the low sounds of their chuckles. They would get theirs.
Back in the hotel, I wound my way through the halls toward the infirmary. I arrived at Ian’s room to find him sitting up. He looked really good, very healthy. His IV stand, however, was hung with two bags: one was clear, and the other looked like blood.
“What is this?” I asked him, staring at the IVs.
“One has chemo medicine. The other is a blood transfusion. They gave me one yesterday too. They said it would help me build up my white blood cells.”
My hands started tingling.
“Rumor came by to see me last night after you and Jamie left. She was really interested in you. Man, her tits are something else. She asked about you.”
I frowned. My head was spinning.
“Oh, come on, Layla. I didn’t tell her anything.”
I stared at Ian. Was my mind playing tricks on me? He already looked different. “No, I’m sure you didn’t, it’s just--”
“I can hear my blood thundering in my veins,” he interrupted. “Two days ago I felt like I was on death’s doorstep. Now I just want to . . . I don’t know what. My head is full of weird ideas.”
I clutched the frame of the door and inhaled deeply.
“Layla?”
I looked at Ian again. His sweet blue eyes had already started to lose some of their pigment. My words were lost. I did not know what to say to him. My head spun. I rushed out of the room.
“Layla?” I heard him call.
I ran down the hallway.
“Layla!”
I ran outside a
nd burst into a sob. After a few moments, I felt someone approach me.
“Are you alright?” the man asked. I noticed he was wearing a stethoscope.
“Are you Dr. Madala?” I asked, wiping away my tears.
He nodded.
“I’m Layla. I’m Ian’s . . . sister-in-law. Can we talk?”
The doctor suddenly looked uncomfortable. He looked around. “Not here,” he said and led me back inside. Just inside the door there was an office. The doctor unlocked the door, and we went in. He closed and locked the door behind him.
“You were the doctor who saw Ian the night we arrived?”
“Yes, I was.”
“And what was your prognosis at the time?”
The doctor looked at me. I could tell by the expression on his face he already knew what I was getting at. “He was in the advanced stages of cancer.”
“How have you been treating him?”
“Chemotherapy , mostly,” he said.
“Did you put him on the blood transfusions?”
The doctor looked at his hands and then back at me. “No, Dr. Rostov started that round of treatment yesterday.”
“Isn’t there a third doctor here? They told us there were three.”
The doctor rested his hand on his forehead. “She had an accident.”
“I see,” I said looking closely at him. “Let’s be frank.”
The doctor sat back in his chair.
“Is there any hope for Ian?”
The doctor shook his head. “He’ll become one of them.”
“Why are you helping them?”
“I am curing people. I am helping the sick who are brought here. It’s just, after they leave my hands . . . Look, either I help them or they kill me.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Almost five months.”
“What are they doing with these people? Eating them? Killing them?”
“Many here are pets. Rumor and the others drain them just a little, drink some of their blood, enjoy their bodies. In exchange, the pets get a little of the vampiric gift, a small dose of the blood. It gives them beauty, strength, health, longer lives. It is a deal many choose to make. Especially in these days.”
The Harvesting Page 17