How did parents do it? How did they manage to say the one thing that got under your skin so badly it made you say the most hateful, hurtful thing you could think of in return? “We could use yours,” I bit out, “if you didn’t drink yourself into a stupor and forget to charge it before the power went out.”
His face paled, then flooded with color. He didn’t say anything, though. How could he? I was only speaking the truth. The awful, pitiful, ugly truth. “We’ll go down the hall and ask to use Sue’s phone. Maybe she and Olivia know what’s going on.”
“You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re dead.”
His gaze darted sideways. I could tell he was uncertain, not sure if I was telling the truth. Not wanting me to be telling the truth. But he’d looked out the window. He knew what was outside. He rubbed his face. “Someone will come. Someone has to come.”
“Dad,” I said quietly, “there isn’t anyone left.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Crash and Burn
On our way out of the apartment I gave Dad the cliff notes version of everything I knew. I told him about Angelique, although I left out the part about where she used my hand as a chew toy. I don’t know why. Partly because it was a little embarrassing, I guess. But mostly because I was afraid of what Dad would do if he found out I was now connected to one of the monsters in a way even I didn’t completely understand.
I’d watched a movie once about four friends on the run in a post-apocalyptic world. They’d been overrun by zombies instead of vampires, but it pretty much amounted to the same thing. Lots of dead people and screaming and blood.
In the movie the main character’s girlfriend gets infected, but she doesn’t tell anyone in the group because she knows they’ll leave her behind. Long story short the boyfriend sees the rash on her stomach and even though he loves her, even though she’s the most important person in his entire life, he still (spoiler alert) kicks her ass out of the car and leaves her at an abandoned gas station in the middle of nowhere.
I really didn’t want to end up stranded at a gas station in the middle of nowhere.
Dad asked a lot of questions about Maximus. Where he had come from, what he was doing, how he knew so much. I didn’t have any answers. When Dad persisted I dropped my duffel bag on the floor of the lobby, threw my hands up in the air, and said, “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know anything else! He said vampires were attacking the town, he told me to head for the Poconos in the morning, and he gave me a gun. That’s it. THAT’S IT!”
I guess you could say the stress of the situation was getting to me. There were only so many things I could handle, and my father asking me question after question wasn’t one of them.
Dead bodies, yes.
Parental interference, no.
And there were plenty of dead bodies. The moment we stepped outside of the apartment complex we were surrounded by them.
I averted my eyes the best I could as I followed my dad down the middle of the street, but it was impossible to miss the woman laying face down on the sidewalk, her arms stretched out towards the body of a young child. And I couldn’t help but stare at a boy who very well could have gone to my high school. If he still had a face I probably would have recognized him.
It really had been a massacre, in every sense of the word. And I had no idea why – or how – my dad and I managed to survive. It gave me the slightest feeling of hope, though. If a drunk and a reckless teenager had made it through the night, surely other people had as well. Maybe they were in hiding like we had been, or maybe they’d already hit the road. Either way, I didn’t really believe what I’d told my dad. We weren’t the only ones left. We couldn’t be.
And yet it certainly felt that way. The sun was out, shining brightly in a sky so clear and blue it looked like something straight out of a painting. Yet not a single bird chirped. No dogs barked. No car horns blared. We’d stepped out of the apartment and straight into a ghost town so still and silent it set my teeth on edge.
“This one!” Dad called out suddenly, his voice cutting through the unnatural quiet like a knife, and I hurried over to the sleek silver Audi he was standing in front of. Since his car knowledge far exceeded mine he’d placed himself in charge of finding our getaway vehicle, but as I looked at the tiny two-door sports car I couldn’t help but feel a little dubious.
“Are you sure? It’s kind of… small.”
But Dad was already opening the trunk and motioning for me to pass over my bag. “It has a full tank of gas, the keys are still in the ignition, and it’s fast. We don’t have time to be picky, Lola. Get in.”
Translation: I could never afford one of these cars in a million years and if I’m going to die in the next twenty-four hours – which is highly likely – I want to drive this one.
I tossed my duffel bag at him and slid inside the passenger seat. The interior was black leather with mahogany trim. It smelled faintly of cologne and as I waited for Dad to finish cramming our stuff inside the tiny trunk I wondered about the man who had owned it.
Had he been a lawyer? A stockbroker? A business owner? Did he have a wife? Kids? A family dog? I imagined a guy in his forties. Well dressed. Perfect hair. A loud, booming voice. He drank scotch instead of beer and if he was home late it was because he was working in the office, not buying two for ones at the local dive bar.
And yet despite all that, despite all the hard work he’d done and all the sacrifices he’d made to be able to afford a car that could have paid for our rent for the next five years, he was dead and my dad was alive.
Go figure.
“Ready?” Slightly out of breath, Dad folded himself into the driver’s seat and started the car by simply pushing a button. It purred to life and he gripped the leather wheel with both hands. His knuckles were white, betraying the tension that didn’t show on his face. I had to give him some credit. He’d pulled himself together, and even though I knew he had to have a raging headache he didn’t complain. For once he was acting like the parent, and it was a relief to be the kid.
“I’m ready, but we have to make a quick stop first.”
“Lola…” There was an edge of annoyance in his voice, but under the annoyance was fear. He wanted to leave Revere behind as fast as humanly possible and I didn’t blame him, but there was one more thing I had to do before we could make a break for it.
“Travis. We can’t leave without Travis, Dad.”
His hands visibly relaxed on the steering wheel. Of all the things I’d done wrong in his eyes, Travis was the one thing I’d done right. He really liked my best friend, probably because he thought Travis was a good influence on me the same way that Travis’ mother thought I was a bad influence on him.
“We can do that,” he said. “Is he at his house?”
I liked how optimistic Dad was. How he naturally assumed Travis was still alive and just hanging out at home like it was any other regular day. Or maybe he was still in denial. Either way, he wasn’t going to like what I had to say next. In my cliff notes version of events I’d sort of skipped over the part where Travis was trapped inside a house with a vampire who could have doubled as WWE superstar.
As Dad pulled out onto the street, weaving into the left lane to avoid running over a body, I filled him in. The back of his head hit the headrest with an audible thump and he sighed.
“Lola…”
“I know, I know,” I said quickly. “But I have to check, Dad. I can’t leave without knowing if he’s alive or… you know.”
I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t even think it. Tucking one foot up on the edge of the leather seat, I hugged my knee tightly to my chest. “Go up here and turn left, then right on the next street. It’s the house all the way down on the end. The one with little garden gnomes out front.”
Had it really only been two days since Travis and I tried to hot wire a car? It felt like another lifetime, one where monsters didn’t exist and I’d never seen a dead body outside of a movi
e.
I really had to thank Hollywood, though. Without seeing so much violence onscreen I don’t think my mind would be able to handle all the death and destruction I was witnessing first hand as our car crept down the street. I felt like part of me was on autopilot, calmly accepting the sight of twisted, mutilated corpses and blood stained sidewalks as though it all really was part of a movie. A movie I could turn off as soon as we left Revere. A movie I never, ever wanted to see again.
“Lola, put your leg down.” Dad glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, a disapproving frown tucking his mouth in at the corners. “This is leather upholstery. You’ll scratch it.”
There was a woman draped across a mailbox with her eyes gouged out and my father was worried about ruining the interior of a car he’d just stolen? I snorted in disbelief and made a show of rolling my eyes, but I did as he asked. After all, without his cooperation there was no way I would be able to get to Travis and we were almost at the Livingston’s house.
“This one?” Dad asked, pointing over the dash.
“This one,” I confirmed. In the light of day the gnomes looked even freakier peering out from the petunias. Ugly little suckers. Why anyone would purposefully put fat ceramic elves in their garden was beyond me.
The Livingston’s black Toyota was still in the driveway. Dad pulled up behind it and we both got out.
“You can wait here. I’ll only be a second.” I pretended there wasn’t a tremble in my voice and avoided looking at the broken window where I’d fought and clawed for my life. There was a knot of anxiety in my stomach as big as my fist, and I knew if I hadn’t thrown up this morning I would be doubled over in the bushes right now.
“I’ll go with you.” Dad cupped the back of his neck, his expression strained. Before we left the apartment he had changed into a light blue t-shirt and khaki shorts. His sneakers were ratty, the laces unraveling and the sides peeling off, but they were the best pair he owned. I’d talked him out of sandals. You can’t run for your life in sandals.
We walked side by side up to the front door. My feet felt like they’d been dipped in cement and I almost tripped over the first step, but I caught myself on the railing.
So graceful.
Dad tipped his head back. “Nice house. Good lines. They did a great restoration. Do you think one of those things is in here?” His gaze settled apprehensively on the front door with its fancy gold nameplate.
“Probably. But I’m sure he’s sleeping. That’s what vampires do during the day.” At least, that’s what I hoped vampires did during the day.
“We don’t know what they are.”
“I have a pretty good idea.”
Dad raked a hand through his hair. “I know that’s what that boy told you, but I really don’t think—”
Before I could lose my nerve I pressed my thumb against the doorbell. The resulting chime seemed extra loud in the silence, and both Dad and I jumped.
I didn’t know what I expected. A vampire to leap out? The door to open and reveal Travis bound and gagged? The people from Publisher’s Clearing House to run up behind us and yell SURPRISE? Okay, maybe the last one was a bit far fetched, but I at least expected something to happen. Instead there was… nothing. Not a sound. Not a noise.
Nothing.
Zip.
Nada.
Dad touched my arm. “Lola, we should go.”
I shook my head, refusing to believe Travis wasn’t inside. That he wasn’t alive. “No. Not yet. Maybe if I ring it one more—”
The door opened suddenly. I stumbled back a step, Dad right beside me, his grip tightening until I winced and yanked my arm free.
“Hey Lola! Hey Mr. Sanchez. Good to see you again.”
My jaw dropped. “Travis?”
“Uh, yeah. Were you expecting someone else? A giant bicep bulging vampire, perhaps?”
“You… You know about the vampires?” I said stupidly.
Travis tapped his chin. “Well, let’s see... What gave it away? Could it be all the dead people, or the fact that the hulk tried to sink his fangs into my neck?”
“You’re alive!” I launched myself at him. Our bodies collided hard enough to have us bouncing off the door frame, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything other than the fact that my best friend was alive. He was alive and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry so I did both and when I felt him shudder my hold around his neck only tightened. “I’m sorry,” I whispered in his ear. “I’m so sorry, Trav. I tried to save you, but—”
“The big bad vampire scared you off?” he finished for me. “Don’t worry about it.”
I rocked back on my heels, but kept my hands firmly on his shoulders. I could feel the bones pushing through his wrinkled shirt. It made him seem frail, even though I knew he was the furthest thing from it. After all, you didn’t survive a night with a vampire by being weak. “You look exhausted,” I said, noting the dark purple smudges under his eyes.
“Didn’t get much sleep.”
I wanted to ask if he’d been bitten, but that would mean revealing I had been bitten and that still wasn’t something I was ready to do, at least not yet. So instead I pretended like everything was fine and there was nothing strange at all about Travis spending the night with a vampire and living to talk about it the next day. Smiling, I entwined my fingers with his and tugged him down the steps past the scary garden gnomes. “Come on. We have a car and supplies and we’re heading for the mountains until this whole thing blows over.”
And that’s it.
If you want to know my biggest regret in all of this, if you want to know what I would change, there you have it. I would ask Travis how he did it. How he survived. Such a simple question. By not asking it I damned us all.
We just didn’t know it yet.
“Glad to see you’re not dead, Mr. Sanchez,” Travis said, shifting his attention to my father.
Dad tried to smile. It came off as more of a grimace. He’d never understood Travis’ sense of humor. “Same to you.”
We made room for Travis between the duffel bags in the backseat. He squeezed in, his long legs and lanky arms stretching from window to window. I bumped my seat up so he wouldn’t have to sit with his knees under his chin and gave my dad a withering look as we pulled away from the curb.
“Good call on stealing the smallest car ever.”
“It’s fast,” he said defensively. “And I didn’t steal it. We’re borrowing it.”
I snorted under my breath. Yeah, right.
“I like the car, Mr. Sanchez.”
Dad met Travis’ gaze in the rear view mirror and they exchanged one of those guy-to-guy knowing looks. “Zero to eighty in six point five.”
“Sweet.”
I twisted around in my seat and hit Travis’s leg. “You don’t even know what that means.”
“Do too.” Suddenly his expression grew serious, his voice strained. “Mr. Sanchez, I hate to ask this but…” He trailed off and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
This time Dad didn’t look in the rear view mirror. He kept his eyes trained on the road and only I could see how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. “I’m sorry Travis, but I can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
“I understand,” Travis said, looking close to tears.
I remained silent. I knew what Travis was asking for and I knew why Dad had to say no. I perched my elbow on the edge of the window and stared blindly out at the passing houses, trying hard not to think about Travis’ mom. If I was in his position would I be able to leave my dad behind, not knowing for certain if he was dead or alive? The question pulled at my already stretched out nerves and I kicked it to a faraway corner of my mind. I knew the answer, but I didn’t like what it said about me… or my best friend.
The houses faded away as we got closer to the interstate. Now there were only trees blurred together in one long line of green. I glanced at the speedometer, noted the little needle was hovering at eighty, but didn’t say anything. Wh
o was going to pull us over, the police?
If only.
I felt a tug on my braid and turned to see Travis leaning forward, one hand gripping my armrest. There was dirt under his fingernails and his knuckles were skinned. “What happened?” he asked quietly. “How did you make it?”
“I met a guy. Maximus. He knew a lot about what was going on. We hid out in one of the old storage units by the baseball field. He gave me this.” I reached down under my seat and pulled out Maximus’ gun.
“Be careful.” Dad looked at me and frowned. “You shouldn’t have that out while we’re driving, Lola. Put it away, please.”
Get my dad away from his beer and he becomes parent of the year. I rolled my eyes at Travis who managed a tiny smile. “You can hold it when we get to the mountains.” I slid the gun back under my seat. “Maybe we can practice shooting it or something.”
“Maybe,” Travis said hollowly.
I wanted to say something to make him feel better, but what? Sorry your parents were most likely torn apart by vampires? Sorry your dad is dead and mine is alive? Sorry everyone we knew was gruesomely murdered? Yeah. That would make a great Hallmark card.
“Travis, maybe when we—”
It happened so fast I didn’t have time to react. One second the car was barreling down the road and the next the wheels were squealing and Dad was yelling and I caught only a fleeting glance of the crater in the middle of the earth where the road should have been.
I was thrown to the side as the car spun. My head cracked hard against the window. Dad’s airbag deployed with a whoosh of air. Travis shouted something unintelligible. I felt a sharp pull on my braid, but I couldn’t turn around. I was too busy scrambling to secure the seat belt I’d forgotten to buckle. My fingers slid clumsily over the metal clip, numbed by fear and desperation.
The car swung to the left, the tires spitting out gravel as it veered towards the ditch. Everything was a blur of color and sound. I heard someone screaming and only distantly recognized the voice as my own.
The Lola Chronicles (Book 1): A Night Without Stars Page 12