by Sia Wales
“See you tomorrow,” I say with a wave of my hand. Jeff has to give me a ride to the campus parking lot, so I can pick up my ride. What a car! It’s so beautiful, I love the fact that it’s mine, all mine. I put on the jacket hanging off the back of the seat and put it on to fight off the chill night air. But I’m still shivering. I think that the invitation to Scott’s place in Cape Cod must be making me more anxious than I care to admit.
The sky is overcast, but it’s not raining. I fall onto my bed and select a song on Vuk’s CD to listen to. I press play on the stereo remote control and turn up the bass. The scenery outside the window is dark and mysterious.
I let myself get carried away by the music, those moving, intense rhythms wash away all other thoughts, just as I hoped. As soon as the initial harmonic impact of the guitar wanes, I concentrate on each individual note. I sing along to the chorus of my song, realizing just now that I have every word, every note etched in my memory.
I lean back against the headrest of the bed, my laptop on my knees. I take a deep breath; I have to get ready for the economics and statistics exams, and I organize my notes to my satisfaction. But I can’t find the right amount of concentration to even open up one of the textbooks. I feel like I’m going crazy. All I can do is think about Vuk’s words, about meeting Drake, Tyler’s invitation, Jason…
One thing at a time, I think to myself.
Ok, since the school work isn’t being absorbed by my distracted mind, I may as well do something else. I open Google, my favorite search engine. The amount of information on Vampires is huge, but I realize that certain aspects are repeated on most of the sites: immortality, speed, strength, charm, cold pale skin, eyes that change color. Obviously that they drink blood, and are feared demons. Only a few mentions of the existence of good vampires.
I read that vampires can fall in love as a kind of punishment for their condition. They fall under the spell of mortality, but their very being destroys any chance of a relationship and maintaining this love. Love is a losing game for a vampire. How dumb! How can they say this? I’m absolutely sure that they are able to feel a certain kind of love.
On impulse, I type in “vampire-wolf” and there are far less search results; they talk of a much-feared figure possessing the terrifying qualities of both creatures, sharing their dark nature.
The phenomenon of the red moon is scientifically explained by the simple analysis of light refraction in the atmosphere. According to legend, during transformation the red moon can make them stronger, faster, intensifying their violence, their thirst for blood. And this is even greater if the creature being affected by the red moon is also a vampire.
I’m exhausted and I push the laptop off my legs. I throw my head back onto the pillow, trying to block out what I have just read. I’m not only seriously confused, I’m also drained. I close my eyes and try to fall asleep despite the drumming sound of the rain and the soft whistling caused by drafts throughout the house. I cover my head with the blanket given to me by Scott and Tyler, then add a pillow to block out the sounds. But I only manage to drop off when the rainfall turns to a light shower, now falling silently.
I open my eyes and I’m in a familiar place. I am in the clearing of the forest surrounding Vuk’s house in Wolfeboro. I know that if I can find the right path I’ll be able to see the lake, obscured by the trees. My consciousness tells me I’m dreaming. I hear a howl coming from the dark heart of the forest, and some footsteps crackling on the dried leaves coming from the same direction. But I see no wolf. Suddenly Vuk turns up and takes my hand, pulling me towards him with all his might.
“Run, Stella!” He drags me towards the darkened house, but I don’t want to go inside. I’m scared, as tense as the string of a violin.
“Come on, let’s go, this way!” He points the way ahead, but I see a white silhouette which, in the half-darkness, comes toward me. I decide not to run away. I wriggle out of Vuk’s grasp, impatient to return to the light.
“No, Stella, come back to me!” he cries, then from the dense vegetation steps Jason, his red eyes glowing like fire. His skin radiates purity.
“Trust me,” he says in a molten voice, as he holds out his hand for me to take.
I take a step forward towards him, and he smiles. His canine teeth are long and pointed. At this point, Vuk begins to tremble violently and he collapses to the ground. An enormous werewolf appears in his place, dark gray with shining yellow eyes, his fur standing upright along his back. He narrows his eyes at Jason and his snarling mouth emits a thunderous roar.
I take another step, and the werewolf launches himself into the gap between Jason and me. Jason suddenly transforms into a black wolf with red eyes, his jaws snapping at the dark gray werewolf. I look at them both, terrified, my body racked with spasms. I abruptly sit up on my bed, screaming in the dead of night. Somewhere deep inside me, doubts are eating away. Something’s not right in my head. Anxiety plagues me and I begin to hyperventilate.
The window is wide open, and for an instant I think I see Donn’s outline in the dark shadows of the room. But Jeff comes in, and I hastily drop the notes off my bed on the floor.
I turn on the bedside lamp and turn to the window, and see no sign of Donn. But I don’t care. It must have been one of my many delusions. I gather my notes from the floor and throw myself face down onto my pillow.
Jeff sits down gently on the bed next to me.
“It was just a nightmare, Ella May,” he reassures me, wiping the sweat from my brow. The images I have just seen are replayed in quick succession in my head.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I confess in a whisper.
He smiles at me, embarrassed. Then he goes to close the window, leaving the light on as he leaves the room.
I turn onto my side, hoping and praying to put off sleep for as long as possible, but I drop off, only waking at the first light of dawn. I sit up on my bed, my head still spinning. I analyze my dream; Jason represents the fear I have of what Donn told me in the Council Tower. And I screamed like that when the werewolf attacked, not for fear of my own life, but for his. I knew and I was sure Vuk would hurt him.
I can’t tell if Jeff is still at home or not. I look out the window and the Corvette isn’t there. I have enough time to go down to the kitchen and drink a cup of coffee when the doorbell rings.
It’s Friday, the day Tess is supposed to be coming over to help me go over the classes I missed! I open the door, a big, fictitious smile plastered on my face as I invite her in. She follows me to my room upstairs, laying down the various pages of notes on the desk. We get down to work without wasting too much time on chit-chat. We take a quick coffee break at ten o’clock and then get back to studying again.
When Jeff comes home from golf in the early afternoon, Tess and I are coming to the end of our study session. As we pack away the notes, I feel accomplished, responsible. In the space of a few hours, I have managed to catch up on a week’s worth of classes. We take some down time, watching videos of cougars on Google to see if we can find the creature she and Seth mentioned.
“Hey, girls,” shouts my dad as he walks in the door. The mouthwatering smell of the lasagna I prepared under Tess’ watchful eye fills the house.
Jeff finds it hard to relate to kids my age, but one exception is Tess. She stays over for lunch and even takes home a portion of lasagna for Seth and Ronald. I feel doubly virtuous. Not only have I spent the morning studying, but the healthy, nutritious lunch has made up for the junk food I ate on Monday night.
Jeff knows about my invitation to go to Cape Cod, and he has no intention of stopping my rusty cogs from getting back into working order. He’s confident enough now about my state of mental health to leave me alone and spend the afternoon at The Pats. He has the task of running the place on the quiet day of the working week.
There’s not a breath of wind, the air is stagnant. You still can’t tell if the sun, buried behind the clouds, will manage to wash away the gray. After such a long morning s
pent studying, I feel out of sorts.
I don’t even know what the hell I am doing here.
For an interminable minute, I just stare out the windshield, enraptured by a low hum that I can’t quite decipher, masked by the sound of the engine and the constant thud of the rain. I snatch the car keys out the dashboard, the engine surely grateful after revving away pointlessly. I step out of the car into the storm.
My hair gets soaked, rivulets of cold water running down my face like tears. The coolness helps bring me back to life. I blink to rid my eyes of the rain, and look hopelessly up and down the road.
I realize Scott is calling my name; his Jeep is blocking the alley behind the bar. I am on the other side of the road, standing still under the pouring rain. Jeff has just gone into the bar to start his shift and let Scott go home. The most sensible thing for me to do right now would be to jump right back in my car and head home again.
But I run across the road to Scott. I should go into the bar or at least go home, but I want to see Tyler, and I know he’s not at the bar tonight. Somehow, I feel happy, healthier, when I’m with him. So I jump into Scott’s vehicle, settle into the passenger seat and don’t say a word as he drives southwards. I just stare out at the overcast sky as the road curves ahead of us towards the coast. On some parts of the journey, all you can see are small clusters of houses and trees. Then suddenly a wide swath of the Atlantic Ocean, stretching out into the horizon, dark and menacing, reflecting the gloomy sky above.
Scott slows down when we near the coastline, so we can breathe in the magnificent view of the infinite ocean, which stretches out as far as the eye can see. We are on the cliff road that runs above the slim sliver of beach.
When we pass the last house to the west of the state highway, Scott turns into a narrow, winding downhill road. A few miles down, peppered with a few houses here and there, we come to a faded gray house. There are windows on each side of the red door, and flower pots adorn the porch that winds round the house. The flowers are violet, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out they are Siberian irises.
We slow down and with a wave of his arm, Scott shows off the rocky cliffs that lead precipitously down to the ocean behind his house.
I stare at the view, mesmerized.
Then I notice four figures clinging to a rock spike, close to a steep crag. The climbers have already reached the peak. Their backs are to us. From this distance, I can’t tell how old they are, but I assume they’re adults. Despite the chill air, only one is wearing thin climbing gear, the others are dressed only in jeans and t-shirts.
As I watch, the most robust clambers onto the edge of the precipice. Then he almost throws himself into the void, gripping onto a rock half way down. I can barely believe what I just saw.
I open the car door and make to get out. Maybe I’m hoping that without the filter of the windscreen, I will realize that what I just saw was my imagination playing tricks on me again. Scott notices me opening the door and brakes sharply a few feet before the porch.
“What’s up?” he asks, wide-eyed.
“That guy just leapt from the cliff! And he caught onto the steep rock with his bare hands! The icy wind now blowing into the car makes me get goose bumps. I sink back onto the seat, disconcerted. “He’s just doing extreme rock climbing with no harnesses,” he points out, unruffled.
“Jeez, but that’s so high! It must have been at least 100 feet!” I exclaim, without tearing my eyes from the three that the leaper left behind.
“Maybe 125!” laughs Scott.
“They must be crazy.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “That’s how they get their kicks.”
“Do you know who the guy is that jumped?” I ask, still astounded. “It was Fergus. The second in command of the group of Siberian rangers that moved from Jackson, Wyoming with Tyler.”
Now I really am flabbergasted. “Fergus?!”
Scott nods, gazing at the climbers. “I told him not to jump, it makes Ronald nervous… But there’s not much else to do in Cape Cod.” I think he’s teasing me. How can he be so collected, indifferent? I can’t tear my eyes of the three climbers, standing in a line on the rocks on the edge of the precipice. I see the other guy, taller, slimmer, approach the edge of the descent. He stops, then leaps gracefully, effortlessly, into the void without a second thought. I’ve never seen such a risky undertaking in my whole life.
“No!” I cry out instinctively, and hastily try to scramble out of the car again to head to the rocks. But Scott reaches out an arm to stop me.
“Just watch,” he says. It’s not a request.
I roll down the window to get some fresh air. I can barely breathe. The fall seems to last an eternity. “Why didn’t they stop him?” I cry, alarmed.
“Just watch,” he says in a reassuring voice.
Halfway down, he opens his arms, and like an acrobatic parachute, the wings attached to his suit open up. He surfs the ocean air currents to fly, looking like a seagull, totally free. He heads towards the trees and goes out of sight. I can’t even see Fergus anymore. Then he comes back into view on the rock surface, from which he leaps again gracefully with a nosedive into the water.
That was Tyler, my nephew, the most unpredictable one of them all. A real force of nature, I’ve gotta admit it.”
”They probably want to show how tough they are.” I seem infuriated, but the words just come out like that for fear of them doing themselves harm.
“It’s freezing cold today, the water’s not very inviting. But it’s not as strange as it seems. They have fun and let off some steam. It’s risky, but thrilling. They need that. Amelia – that little one over there – she puts the fear of God in me each time I see her leap off that highest peak, I swear!”
“Will they be coming back here, to the beach, afterwards?” I ask, entranced as I watch the third figure, a female, taking a run-up to leap up even higher than the previous two; she looks like an angel taking flight.
“Yeah, this afternoon. But they live in a wooden pre-fab in a clearing under the cliff.”
I peer down and can make out the house amongst the trees. It looks too small to be the home of two men, two women and a big-boned kid. When I look back to the figures, the fourth one is stationary, measuring up the distance to the edge of the precipice.
I get out of the Jeep, a chill running down me as I head towards Scott’s house, trying to avoid looking back at the acrobatics of the last one left on the rocks. It must be Dora. This is the third time I have seen the strange gang of Siberian rangers, Tyler’s family.
“Impressed, huh?” asks Locke, who suddenly appears from the edge of the forest.
I smile at him. He looks unassuming as he approaches, but his sudden appearance takes me by surprise. How did he manage to creep up so silently across the coarse gravel?
“This is Locke Bradford, the youngest of the crew,” says Scott, who runs to the house to take cover from the rain that is now falling thick and fast. Locke and I keep walking.
He looks at me and I just stare back, unable to utter a word. As I look, I try to figure out what they have in common. His eyes are hazel in color, his cheeks are puffy. There’s no obvious grace in his movements.
“Come inside, it’s raining out there!” yells Scott from the porch.
“We’re coming,” we say in unison.
Scott hurries into the house.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Ella May,” I say, extending a hand and glancing over to the empty rocks.
“Yep, they’re leaping into the precipice,” says Locke, my introduction obviously not registering, as I follow him on a detour towards the beach.
I turn to look at him. “They sure are reckless, no fear at all.” I say; I still haven’t gotten over the shock of what I witnessed. As the rain turns into a mist, we make our way through the small rocks leading to the beach, avoiding the branches and logs that have been washed up by the high tide.
“You bet!” he exclaims cheerily. “They’re always going climbin
g, stuff like that.
“Myco,” I whisper to myself, barely audible over the icy wind that begins to whip our faces.
He nods. “Yeah, Tyler told me that you called him that.” Then he comes closer to me, as if to reveal a secret. “He’s like the head of the class, even outside the family.” I assume he’s referring to his role as a forest ranger. “He maintains balance, makes sure war doesn’t break out,” he says, emphasizing the word ‘balance’.
We walk along the beach to the cliff to the north of the house. The mist obscures the view of the islands dotted here and there in the choppy sea. The horizon is an endless gray of ocean and dark, cloudy skies.
We are on the rocks now, and only by straining my ears can I differentiate between the crash of the waves and his soft footfalls on the hard rock as we walk alongside each other.
The sound of my footsteps is quite another matter; my clumsy steps make it sound like I’m wearing prehistoric rock-breakers on my feet instead of soft-soled sneakers. I breathe in the salty ocean air.
“So you’re the youngest forest ranger in the family?” I ask after a few moments of comfortable silence.
“No, I’m still studying to become a ranger,” he replies.
Our detour has come back on itself and we are once again approaching Scott’s house. I study Locke; he looks worried, almost scornful about something, but I can’t make out what. I wait.
“Tyler always talks about ‘clan pride’ and ‘heritage’,” continues Locke. “He goes on about how our homeland is our bond, that ‘We are Siberian’.” He says this solemnly, making the speech marks in the air with his fingers. “The clan council takes Tyler very seriously. The others take part in all the meetings, too, but his voice counts more than the others”. I’ve never understood why people look up to him like this. I guess it’s got something to do with his great-grandfather, his great-great-grandfather, people like that. He was the last chief. He saved our people from the great winter, so Tyler’s word carries a lot of weight. In the clan they call them the protectors of balance,” he tells me, clearing his throat on the final words as if he shouldn’t be mentioning it. “All members of the council have equality in theory, but I think that Tyler is considered a kind of moral leader.”