by Amy Patrick
The icy blue eyes were almost otherworldly looking now, the combination of the moonlight and the bonfire in the distance making them glow in a way that was mesmerizing.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
His breath on my face was hot, scented with mint chewing gum and a hint of cherry cola, and I was possessed by a sudden wild thought.
What would it be like to kiss him?
“Abigail?” A new voice entered the conversation. Josiah’s voice. “Abigail, is that you?”
Moving quickly, I slid from the hood of Reece’s car, my boots stumbling on the uneven ground. For no reason at all, I straightened the top of my dress and smoothed the skirts.
“Hi. Yes. It’s me. What are you doing?”
Josiah’s penetrating stare moved from me to Reece then back to me. “Looking for you. What are you doing?”
“Nothing. Talking. To Reece. Reece, this is my friend Josiah. Josiah, this is Reece...” My face heated in mortification. “I don’t actually know your last name.”
Reece got off the car and planted his feet on the ground, rising to his full height—which was considerably more than Josiah’s. He stretched out a hand toward my friend, though his facial expression didn’t match the friendly gesture.
“Reece Hendrix. Nice to meet you Josiah.”
Josiah gripped his hand for the briefest moment then turned to me. “It’s time to go. Hannah and Aaron are already at the buggy.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I looked back at Reece, feeling suddenly bereft. This was it. The unexpected magical night was ending.
“Well, goodbye then. It was... nice meeting you.”
And then I fell into step with Josiah, heading for the buggy where Aaron and Hannah stood waiting. She’d already changed back into her dress and apron, the picture of Amish propriety.
“Wait.”
I turned around to see Reece had followed us.
“Do you want to maybe go for a ride or something?” He held his hands out in front of him. “Just drive around—that’s all, I promise. I just... I’m not ready to say goodnight.”
My heart leapt then sank just as quickly. I stepped away from Josiah and spoke quietly to Reece.
“I can’t. I... have to go. My friends... you understand. And I’m sure it’s late. I don’t even know what time it is. My parents will be worried.”
Reece’s hopeful expression fell. He nodded. “Of course. Okay, well, can I call you?”
“I don’t have a phone.” I giggled, embarrassed.
“Oh. Right.” He snapped his fingers and twisted his mouth to the side. “You know what? That’s okay.”
“It is?”
“Yeah. You know why?”
“Why?” I asked, baffled at the abrupt change in his demeanor.
“Destiny. Do you believe in destiny, Abbi?”
Slowly, I shook my head back and forth. “Not really.”
“Well, I do. And I believe we’ll see each other again.” He took my hand in his. “You wait and see. I believe things happen for a reason, and I think the reason I came here tonight... was to meet you.”
I had no idea what to say. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. Frankly it sort of scared me.
There was no room in my life for someone like Reece, and I highly doubted I’d fit into his very well.
“Okay,” I said, like an idiot, and extracted my hand from his.
Then like a bigger fool, I turned and walked away as fast as my securely tied shoes could carry me.
4
Unholy Creatures
The eerily beautiful woman stared at my face for a long moment before lowering me to the blood-soaked pavement again.
“You want me to spare his life, even after he’s taken yours? You surprise me, little one... which isn’t an easy thing to do. What is your name?”
“Abi... Abigail,” I whispered.
“How would you like to come with us, Abigail?”
I had no idea what she was talking about. I wouldn’t be going anywhere with anyone ever again. The life was ebbing from my body faster with each passing second. In fact, I didn’t have the energy to even respond to her odd question.
The woman bent her head and placed a kiss on my palm that I could not feel.
Rising, she walked over to the ruined car and squatted to peer inside at Reece. “Looks like this is your lucky night. You can thank the little good Samaritan over there that you didn’t wind up cooked alive.”
Then she lifted his hand and brought it to her mouth as well.
“Hey,” he yelled out. “Why’d you do that?”
She didn’t answer him but stood and addressed her unseen companions. “I’ve claimed these two. All the others you can drink.”
What? What was happening? Claimed? Drink?
There was movement all around me. Apparently she had not two companions but many. People were filtering through the accident site, laughing and chatting as if they were at a church social instead of at the scene of a tragic accident.
Where had they all come from? And what were they doing?
From my position flat on my back, I couldn’t see the buggy or my friends. I could see Reece’s car. Which suddenly flipped and landed right-side-up on its tires.
I stared in disbelief as he opened the driver’s side door and got out. He looked as shocked as I was.
The woman moved toward him but stopped in her tracks at the wail of a siren. The intermittent flashing of colored lights pierced the darkness, and the others froze in place as well.
“Police?” one of the men asked.
“Ambulance,” the beautiful woman said. “Dammit. It’s close. Leave them. Let’s go.”
“What a waste,” a girl’s voice said, the disappointment clear in her tone. “And I was hungry too.”
There was a gasp from Reece’s direction. He turned and ran, leaving the highway and cutting across a pasture.
“Want me to go after him?” a large man asked. “His size would make for a good soldier.”
The woman, who appeared to be in authority over the others, stared into the dark field. “No. Let him go. He might fight back and get loud about it. The first responders will be here any moment. I don’t want there to be any witnesses. We’re leaving before they spot us.”
Now the man came to stand directly over me, looking down at my helpless form.
Long pale locks of hair fell forward, nearly hiding his face. His leather-clad shoulders were so wide they blocked out the moon.
“What about this one? I thought you wanted her.”
“We’re still two hundred miles from the Bastion. It’s too far to carry her without being seen,” the beautiful woman said. “Even for you.”
There was a pause as she appeared to think. Finally, she swept one arm to the side in an authoritative gesture.
“Move her off the road—hide the body. We’ll send someone back for her. As for the boy... he’ll find his way home eventually. They always do.”
I woke the next morning. At least I thought it was morning. Maybe it was afternoon. The sun was up, and it was exceptionally bright.
I wasn’t directly exposed to it but lying just inside of some sort of large pipe—a culvert maybe? A trickle of water ran down the center of it from one open end to the other.
How had I gotten here? Had I taken a bump to the head and wandered away from the accident scene?
The accident.
A double-punch of alarm and grief jolted me as my senses returned to me fully.
Josiah. And Aaron and Hannah.
And Reece. Were they okay? Where were they?
Getting to my feet, I ran toward one of the openings, shielding my eyes with both hands against the contrast between the interior of the cool, shaded pipe and the bright sunshine outside.
The minute I stepped into the light, my skin began to sting and then to sizzle. I plunged my hands into the pockets of my skirt and instinctively ducked so my bonnet would shade my face.
&nbs
p; But my bonnet was gone. Where was it? I’d taken it off for the party but had put it back on for the ride home.
Whirling around, I ran back into the culvert, searching its murky floor. A puff of soiled black fabric caught my eye, and I bent to retrieve it.
The bonnet was certainly the worse for wear, stained with dirt and dried blood.
No matter. I needed to find my friends. Draping the hand-sewn garment over my head, I stuffed my long, heavy locks beneath it and tied the strings under my chin before setting out again.
The sun was still uncomfortably hot, but I no longer felt the sting of sunburn. Keeping my head down and following my ears, I made my way to the highway and searched for wreckage.
There was none. Maybe I was farther away from the crash site than I realized?
Maybe it had never happened at all. I seemed to remember in the aftermath of the crash being unable to walk or even move, but here I was moving freely, in perfect health, in no pain whatsoever.
That made no sense. It must have been a nightmare.
But wait—there, off to one side of the road... a black, wide-brimmed hat lay abandoned in a ditch.
Josiah’s hat.
Naturally, it wasn’t distinctive in any way. It could have blown off the head of any man from our community—or from any other Amish community for that matter. The whole point of our plain dress was to not stand out, not draw attention to our outward appearances.
But I knew it was his.
And how did I know that?
Picking it up, I brought the brim to my nose and inhaled. Yes, I was right. It smelled like him.
It was weird—I’d never even noticed how Josiah smelled before or whether he even had a particular scent at all, but now I realized he and every person I’d ever known had possessed their own distinctive essence.
The accident had happened just as I remembered it. Both vehicles had been cleared, obviously. My friends had most likely been taken to the hospital. I must have been thrown too far from the scene for the rescue workers to notice me.
My parents had to be frantic with worry by now.
And then it occurred to me... what if Josiah and the others were injured so badly they hadn’t been able to speak? My parents might think I’d chosen to leave the bonfire with someone. They might not even realize I’d been in the buggy accident.
What if no one was even looking for me?
A sudden pain in my chest stole my breath, and I had to suppress the strong temptation to burst into tears.
Instead, I tightened my shoelaces again and started the long walk home.
By the time I reached our village, it was dark. I went directly to my family’s home, opening the door and stepping into the kitchen.
My father, three brothers, and two sisters were seated at the table for dinner. My mother was spooning some cooked beets onto my youngest brother Daniel’s plate.
All of them set their forks down and stared at me.
When Mamm looked up and saw me, she dropped the heavy cooking pot onto the tabletop, breaking Daniel’s plate in half. The sight and smell of the food turned my stomach.
I must have a concussion. Mamm will know what to do.
“Abigail. You’re home,” she said before darting a glance at my father.
He gave me a stern look but didn’t scold me for staying out all night or ask where I’d been or with whom.
“We worried for you. Come and sit and have dinner.”
“You’ll need a fresh bonnet first,” Mamm said, walking toward me. “Run up to your room and—”
Her words cut off abruptly as she reached me, and her eyes went wide. “What has happened to you?”
“I didn’t run off on some lark,” I explained. “I was in a car accident. Actually, I wasn’t in the car, I was in a buggy with Josiah and—”
She gripped my shoulder, turning me toward the gas lap that burned in a holder on the wall. “No, I mean your eyes. They’ve changed color.”
“What? That’s impossible.”
I pulled away from her and went quickly to the only mirror in the house—a small one attached to the inside of a kitchen cabinet door.
She was right.
My eyes, which had been green my entire life, like my father’s, looked... purple. It was a light purple, but it was distinctly not green.
Trembling, I turned back to my mother. “How can this be?”
Rising from the table, my father came to my mother’s side, assuming a stance that was almost protective. Now he did ask about my night away from home.
“Who were you with last night Abigail?” he demanded. “What have you done?”
“What have I done?” I could hardly believe my ears. Why were they acting so strangely? Dad sounded accusatory and even a little afraid. “I just told you I was in an accident. It was terrible. I think Hannah and Aaron and Josiah might be badly injured. I thought I was, too, but—”
“Hannah and Aaron are dead,” Mamm said. “Josiah is in the hospital in critical condition.”
“We didn’t know you were with them in the buggy. We thought you might have... gone off on your own,” my father explained.
He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t hug me and say how happy he was that I’d somehow made it through the experience unscathed. He just continued to stare at my eyes with growing fear evident in his own.
“They’re dead?” I repeated.
My head spun, making me stagger a little. After a moment I thought to ask which hospital Josiah was in.
“Lancaster General,” my father said. “A police officer came to his parents’ house last night and brought them there to be with him.”
“I want to go see him.”
“You’ve only just gotten here,” Mamm protested. “You must eat something before you go.”
Again my stomach rolled with nausea. “No thank you, Mamm. I just want to go to the hospital.”
My father grabbed his hat from a peg on the wall. “I’ll take you. Noah, hitch up the horses and buggy.” To me, he said, “Let’s go.”
It was a ten-mile trip to the hospital. When we got on the road, I thanked my father for understanding my eagerness to get to Josiah as soon as possible.
“I didn’t agree to this for your sake—I did it for your mother and brothers and sisters.”
My father had always spoken to me gently throughout my life, even when I was younger and just learning discipline and self-control. His harsh tone tonight brought tears to my eyes. I didn’t understand his apparent lack of concern for me.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You know what I mean. Your mother doesn’t understand what those eyes signify—she doesn’t know any English people. But I work with them every day on construction sites. I hear them talk about things in the world.”
I shook my head, the tears spilling over now. “What ‘things?’”
He flicked the reigns, urging the horses to move faster. “I know what lilac-colored eyes mean. You’ve given yourself to one of those unholy creatures. And I can’t risk letting you be around your mother and siblings. I will take you to the hospital, but you are not to come home.”
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t given myself to anyone, not Josiah or to any English boys.”
That had to be what he meant by “unholy creatures.” Though even if I had slept with someone outside of marriage, forbidding me from seeing my family ever again seemed like an overly harsh punishment.
From time to time in our community, a girl became pregnant before marriage, and there would be a quicker than usual wedding ceremony. Shunning wasn’t common.
“I’m not speaking of the English, and you know it,” my father spat out.
His beard quivered with emotion. “I’m speaking of vampires. You’ve been with a vampire.”
5
Final Farewell
You’ve been with a vampire.
The accusation reverberated through my body like a physical blow. Though he w
as wrong about the nature of our interaction, I knew my father was right.
That was who the strange group of people at the accident site had been.
And that was how I’d been able to walk and move freely today, without pain, when I remembered my body being broken and nearly lifeless in the aftermath of the crash.
The beautiful woman hadn’t kissed my hand before leaving me. She’d bitten me. I just hadn’t been able to feel it because my spinal cord had been severed.
Raising my hand to inspect it in the moonlight, I searched my palm for the evidence. There, at the fleshy base of my thumb, was a small scar.
It looked like the vestige of a long-ago entanglement with a barbed wire fence, or maybe a paring knife.
Though she’d bitten me only last night, there was no pain or even redness—it had fully healed.
“It was a woman,” I told my stoic father. “She was there after the crash. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was lying in the road. I couldn’t move. She was kind to me.”
Her words came back to me, along with a vision of her face. Would you like to come with us? she’d asked.
“I could feel myself dying. I think maybe she bit me to save my life.”
“Your old life is over now,” my father said bluntly. “Knowing your mother, she will have compassion and want to keep you with us, even with the danger. Neither do I blame you. I know if you’d had a choice, you’d have chosen to die on the road instead of being... preserved in this unnatural state. But I have heard the English men talk of creatures like you. It isn’t safe for you to live among our people anymore.”
Creatures?
My throat closed around a hard knot. “They’re my people, too, you know.”
It was the closest I’d ever come to talking back to my father, having been raised to show him ultimate respect.
He cleared his throat. “Not anymore. You have a new... community now. You should go and live among them and learn how to... how to carry on.”
The buggy stopped, and I looked away from his solemn face to see a red and white illuminated sign that read, “Emergency.”