The Blood In Between
By
Randall Gardner Ailes
Copyright © 2016 Randall Gardner Ailes
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 6705254
ISBN-13: 978-1540302809
DEDICATION
Through the late nights
And the cancelled plans
The missed movies and TV
Someone was always there for me
Thank you, Susan E.
Other books by Randall G Ailes
The Door (being edited)
The Last Hope (being edited)
Asylum Lake
Sand & Glass
The Safe Haven Trilogy
Book one Water & Dust
Book two Ravages of the Sun
Book three The Blood in Between
Dust in the Wind (series)
The Bishop Dig: Light at the End of the Tunnel (novella series)
Follow me online: Http://www.randallgailes.com
Facebook author page at Randall Gardner Ailes, Author
This is an interactive book. You have a say in its life or death. If you would like the characters and the story to go on living, please tell someone else who might take an interest. I would appreciate it and I suspect that many of the characters within would as well. It is only through your words and appreciation that these stories and characters breathe.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you, Kara Stanton and Kyle Ailes, Ruthann and Robert, Joyce, Nancy, Nick, April, Michelle, Lois, Jessie, Megan, Tiffany, Kari, DeeAnne, And McCartney, Max and Luka
Part One
Lords of the night, fade from the light
Living years upon years in a shadow-less flight.
Over land or marine, always feared, seldom seen
But from dusk until dawn flows the blood in between.
The phone Misty had in her zipped pocket bounced and jerked with every bound she took. It was safe while the zipper contained it but it was asking for trouble to try to move the tab along and fish the phone out. She wished she could but didn’t dare. The problem was that she was running and one misstep could cause a tumble. The problem was that she needed to call her mother and father to warn them of what she had happened onto. The problem was that her phone was ringing and the reverberations of that noise brought her under the notice of those she had nearly run into while jogging along one of the trails at Haven in the Pines.
Misty had seen them and miraculously had remained undetected for several long moments, as she came to understand these were trespassers who meant bodily harm of the fatal kind. This was a group dressed in camouflage black, and the equipment they were towing looked every bit as serious and deadly as those who were intent on using it. There were men and women in this assemblage but also something else, a couple of somethings quick and canine but they weren’t dogs. They stood as humans do and noiselessly clung to the early evening shadows. As disconcerting as this was, there was something far worse standing with them. Betrayal; her boyfriend Dustin was among them and in fact had dialed Misty’s phone and sent it ringing in the darkening woods. When her cell broke its silence, Misty had stared across trees and spaces directly into the camp, and all eyes, but especially Dustin’s were focusing on her. Misty turned and tried to increase one of the two advantages she had: distance which wasn’t much, but her other advantage was that she knew the land and the trail infinitely better than they did.
A blood-chilling howl came from behind her almost causing her to falter but Misty managed to get speed and coordination into a shaky rhythm back down the trail she had been traveling. It didn’t matter that she’d been running for twelve minutes before her reverse in direction. There was now intense motivation for flat-out full speed as far as her twenty-one years and sure-footedness could take her.
The party Misty had run into was not set up; they were still carrying equipment toward an unknown destination. They had been prepared for much but not to have someone discover them as they were first entering the coastal forest, moving supplies and weapons. She hoped their confusion allowed her many seconds before they responded.
“Toc, tec, pop:” something was hitting tree trunks near her or whistling by through the brush. She wasn’t hearing gunfire but those seemed like bullets to her. Misty did not want to look back but she had to know what kind of lead she had. This would be a good place to see as the next few steps took a turn which allowed a simple head swivel to the side. Now facing forward again Misty tried to recall what she had seen. Her view had been dark, as night was falling first in the wooded bluffs above the majestic Lake Michigan shoreline. Still she had seen them scrambling to shrug off backpacks and stooping to open up boxes they had in tow. And then, oh, my god, those dark things loping after her at a terrifying speed. They were on to her but good, coming through the low vegetation like hounds on the hunt. Only these weren’t hounds. What were they? If she continued down the path they would have her within a half a minute, and she’d only have that long if her dark pursuers continued tracing her route along the top of the bluff. Hopefully the tangled growth would keep them on that course so they wouldn’t short cut her. Misty on the other hand, would leave the trail because to stay on it was to inevitably be caught. When she did jump the tracks she had to make it count, and she had the inkling of an idea how to buy a little precious time.
Misty continued her run for several more quick strides and then did the terrifying thing; she ran back down the trail toward her dogged pursuers. Turning a quick right, trying not to leave obvious scuff marks from her jump, she leapt off the trail, carrying herself off the tree covered bluff. Now it would be a dangerous drop several times her height before the steep climb of the terrain met the shear drop of her fall. If the landing were to be onto a sandy dune, which would be about the only way to survive the fall unhurt, her landing would be soft. But on this bluff, the ground would be hard and craggy, not quite rock but not so different from it either. There was brush and trees, and if she were lucky she wouldn’t impale herself coming down into one or rolling into it if it was lying on the ground.
She came straight down hitting only the final outstretches of the branches and receiving scratches along her arms as they protected her face. Dropping through canopy, Misty wanted to slide feet first like a baseball player going into second, but the inertia of her landing propelled her forward so it was a face-first plunge and tumble. She hit, skidded, bounced, rolled and sprawled, and as she did Misty was cut, abraded, bashed, pummeled and gored, coming to rest on a soft bed of pine needles. Much as she wanted to just lay there and cry, Misty would have to do that later, if she was fortunate enough to have a later.
Going off the trail would be a noisier undertaking than sounds made on the path, so for the moment she would sit up, cringe from pain, assess her injuries and plot her next course to the open beach. Above, she could hear the approach of her dark pursuers whining and panting, tearing down the trail. Misty guessed they would go maybe a hundred yards more before they would begin to wonder why they hadn’t caught up with her. She would need to move now because they would be coming back, retracing their steps. Who knew what surprises the rest, the nighttime camouflaged group, might have with them- night vision glasses? Somewhere back there they were coming.
The water sounded close by but the bluff caught and passed along the sound of the surf with almost perfect clarity, so Misty couldn’t rely on what she heard. Now that she was on the ground she saw that she could make better time and a more direct path to the beach by crawling, which was okay with her. The pine needles hushed her movements and she crawled along on all fours, occasionally
hugging the ground. She weaved her way around thickets and steep grades as quickly as she could, paying little attention to her comfort. She was already messed over, but was carefully picking her way through so she wouldn’t give herself away with a snapped twig or broken branch.
Back up the bluff where she had first jumped off, came the rhythmic panting of her menacing chasers. The waves on the beach made it all the more difficult to hear due to the nearness of the gentle shore. Misty dropped onto the beach and nearly yelped in pain. There was something funky going on with her ankle. It was painful to walk on and wouldn’t support her weight. Okay plan “A” was to run down the unencumbered beach and get back home as soon as possible and she could still do that, but she wouldn’t be running. Maybe Misty could find something along the way to use as a crutch.
A howl pierced the night with a second in answer. To hear them was pulse quickening.
“Okay, plan ‘B’; across the beach to the water.” Misty said to herself. “It won’t be as fast but the water will give me better support.”
Above she heard the signs of descent with brush crackling and sticks snapping. Those in pursuit didn’t care to be quiet, the trail was hot.
“Go!” Misty spoke to no one but was trying to rally herself for the dash across the beach, and she was off. Limping and dragging her foot, lunging in a strange gallop. By the time she was half across, the dog-things were nearly all the way down the cliffs. Their excitement grew as they could see her through the tangle of vegetation they needed to get through before running on to the open beach. Misty stuck to the task at hand. Maybe those things didn’t like the water, she hoped. She could hear the first of them finally getting to the beach when something slammed into her back. She nearly stumbled from the impact. It was hot and cold at the same time. A bullet, she thought.
A second one hit her in the shoulder and a third went through her hand. Misty was on the wet part of the shore now becoming disoriented. Her breath was becoming ragged. It was hard to breathe and it felt icy inside.
I have to make it into the water. She thought.
Those dark creatures were dashing across the beach in direct lines to her. She launched herself into the water and swam as many strokes as she could before she submerged into darkness.
2
At the Great House, four people split two ways: Sanford Long and Millie Cummings went out the back door in case Misty returned from that direction and Misty’s parents, John and Persephone Skye left through the front. Something was amiss. They all felt it, and this is why it was decided that they would not venture out in one group. Perhaps it was better to spread out, as opposed to being in a small easily capture-able group. Sanford and Millie would be along but would check out the grounds first. Persephone was watchful, but left that mostly for her husband’s concerns. She was a worried mother sensing irregularity in her daughter’s routine and hoping it was nothing to worry about. That feeling was weighed against knowing that Misty and all four of those who were now searching for her were being hunted and methodically exterminated. Parents’ guide their children through all kinds of challenges and catastrophes, giving them advice and helping them cope. What Misty had grown up learning was a little more than learning how to share or the lessons learned after falling off a bicycle. Her training and protection was more than surviving heart breaks or guarding her virtue. As with all of them, she had learned to be watchful, proactive and able to defend herself. Beyond that there was a certain ability to view into others’ minds and send messages.
Those of Misty’s and Persephone’s kind were known as Havens; beings who loved to commune, find a companion be it plant or animal (rocks just weren’t much fun), and be an unknown guest; a positive parasite if there is such a thing. They tended to pair their lives with a companion and watch their host’s lives unfold. Be it spider, mosquito, boxwood, cactus or redwood, each life enriched theirs and they in turn repaired, cleaned up and lovingly healed those with whom they shared existence. But many lives strive toward complexity and the thirst for knowledge pushed Havens to desire more multifaceted lives to share. Some Havens gravitated towards human lives as their theatre of choice. When not attached to anything, Havens are small clouds of mist drifting at the whim of the breeze or clustered in low lying areas…vapor that could condense to the size of a small ball or expand what semblance of body they possess to the size of a house. They left their island in the great sea attaching themselves to those who were passing through. A great remainder of Havens perished when their little spot in the universe was destroyed through the designs of an enemy they didn’t know they had, making those few who had left before this tragedy the precious few.
The enemy was, as is so often the case, very similar to them only instead of a watery mist they existed as a cloud of dry dust. The Lorn, that’s what they called themselves, came from a past obscured now by time but they had traveled much through the black starlit sea. Through similar processes to Havens, the Lorn found others to live within but when a Lorn enters a host, they use them as we might one time have used a horse; as beasts of burden to do our work and help us achieve our purposes usually to the point of being used up and discarded. The Lorn immediately understood a critical difference between themselves and the Havens; mobility. Because they consisted mainly of dry particles, Lorn became adhered to the moisture of those they attached to unless passed through bodily fluids from host to another. Havens could leave their companions through all of the ways life takes in or disburses water. Lorn had to remain with their hosts until the life they inhabited turned to dust making them free to ride the currents of the wind.
Because of their differences, because they were so much the same, because in their history none had ever known that they existed until Havens discovered them, the Lorn pursued a path to remove what they felt was a threat and competition.
John and Persephone Skye were fast walking down the well-worn path from the where the housing commons were, toward the beach of Lake Michigan. John took longer and quicker strides to catch Persephone before she was too far ahead. Her concern regarding Misty’s tardiness might propel Persephone to plunge ahead with caution thrown to the wind. He caught up with her and reached for her hand. When he took it she broke from whatever her trail of thoughts and said, “I know. I’m getting my second wind. You’ve got my back, I’ve got yours. I’m back with you. Thanks.”
John, for his part said nothing. That said it best for the moment. Light from the nearly complete sunset lent hope that it was still day but when John turned toward the trees and the bluff it was already night time there.
“I’m not picking her up, John.” Persephone said. “I…I keep trying…I don’t feel her.”
“Lots of reasons for that, my love.” John returned. “We’ve taught her well. I….”
From down the beach came a series of excited barks and howls causing concerned looks and quickened paces. They did not turn away from the menacing cries but rather gathered themselves as each step brought their approach closer. They were exposed as they traced the shore but though the forest trees comprised dark shadows which would easily hide them as they made their way their progress would have been slowed and as it was they were nearly invisible with the lake as a backdrop. Finally they slowed until they both knew to go no further. Persephone spread her arms out wide, palms out and fingers apart. John stood motionless in sudden deep contemplation.
“She’s been here, Seph. A trail of footsteps marks her journey from the woods. She is hurt and followed by others.”
Persephone held her hand over the tracks as if they were a fire and she was trying to warm her fingers. “She has gone to the water in hope that those after her would not continue the chase.”
Turning from where she was, Persephone felt her way into the water, wading, gliding and finally submerging. John scanned the beach for information, wary of the tall vegetation blackening the bluff yet wanting to go there for further investigation. Though he couldn’t see them he knew that Sanford and Millie were m
ore than likely on the beach by now and headed in their direction. What he knew thus far was that his daughter had been followed…no not followed; chased into the water and that she was hurt. Signs of a foot dragging conveyed that. There was danger here but not now so close by. When Persephone surfaced in a few minutes they would compare notes.
Millie came along the beach, warily. “Sanford’s watching them. They’re in the trees along the bluff, moving away from shore. They’re headed toward the housing commons but I’m not sure that’s their destination. Misty happened on them?”
“She was dragging a leg as she crossed the beach. The tracks of others are here. They came after her. See where their tracks destroy hers? Seph is searching now.” He nodded towards the water.
“I’ll help her.”
“I’ll see what the trees can tell us.
Millie entered into the water with her clothes on, never stopping until she disappeared beneath the surface. John searched the beach as he crossed to the trees blanketing the bluff. Gently he waved his hands through the low growing vegetation before finally bringing tree branch leaves and needles to his face. The surface of the water was unbroken for ten minutes until Persephone and Millie stood in the shallows, dripping from their underwater search. John retraced his steps and talked with them at the shore.
“I feel her faintly but I cannot find her.” Persephone said.
“She was pulled from the water. They’ve taken her with them.” John added.
“They can’t have. I also feel her.” Millie said. “We must remain here and search.”
“Then we have two different tales. They pulled her from the sea. Even now they are carrying her away.” John’s need to do something more than talk was urgent. “I’ll go after them. Find her if she’s here. Don’t lose track of your safety. Who knows the depths of this attack?”
The Blood In Between (The Safe Haven Trilogy Book 3) Page 1