by Karen Payton
“Hey you.” She called him back from his reverie. She smiled when his eyes met hers, but he saw concern lurking in their depths.
“Hey you, back,” he said, but his eyes wandered again, this time to the necklace of love bites staining her skin. None of them had broken the surface. He had not bitten, even though he wanted to. “Not a great start, you look like you’ve been in a prize-fight.”
“Tell me you’re not regretting it?” Rebekah’s tone was challenging, but her dread was hard to disguise.
She must know I love her, but the depth of my guilt? She cannot possibly understand. “What? You can’t think that.” He looked at her mutinous face. “I just regret the damage. I thought I’d been so careful.”
“Please, Connor, don’t spoil it. It was wonderful.” Rebekah waited, her eyes begging him to share her joy.
He finally grinned. “You’re right, I did okay; after all, you’re still in one piece.” But she could not know the effort that had taken.
He rolled back onto the grass and took her with him.
As the clouds of sated relief thinned, Connor said slowly, “Rebekah, once I get you home, you have stay there, for a while, at least. Okay? There are other vampires out there who are not the same as me.”
“What do you mean?”
Connor ground his teeth. “Crazed vampires, for want of a better word. Feral, whatever you want to call it.” He looked uncomfortable. “They tried to live on animal blood alone. It didn’t work.”
“So, they are demented?”
He nodded. “They don’t often come close to the hives, but I saw one today, so you, all of you, need to be careful.”
“Okay. I understand.”
They both struggled to hold onto the feeling of contentment. They were in their own separate Hells as they faced the fact that Station Four was just around the corner, and it signaled the end of their road together.
I have to leave her where she’ll be safe. He was determined to do that. I’ve Serge to deal with, and I’ll need to do some fast talking to escape being charged with ‘threatening the food supply’.
Councilor Serge was riddled with resentment and jealousy, and his raw material was clearly flawed. Because he was old in mortal years, for him, vampirism loomed as an eternity of old age. Connor guessed at seven decades. Serge long ago latched onto Connor as a vampire he envied to the point of obsession. This might have been amusing, except that the man had secured a place on the vampire council, and, as a councilor, his petty vendetta caused Connor more problems than it should.
Connor hugged Rebekah closer, disturbing her scent, and sighed. He had no fear for himself, although, until this moment, he had never cared enough about anything to flout vampire lore. Serge may have suspicion, but he needs proof, and once I leave her here, there will be none. Rebekah will be safe and I’ll gladly take whatever comes.
<><><>
Rebekah’s Hell was the dread of arriving at Station Four. I can’t let Douglas discover Connor. He glues himself to Uncle Harry, and he’s sure to be there to greet me.
She shifted in Connor’s arms at that thought. I’m different now, and even Douglas can’t take that away. Douglas’ glowering presence would be inescapable once she said goodbye to Connor. There were so few women of marriageable age in the eco-town. He knew he repulsed her, but he would not relinquish his claim easily. I know that. He might even enjoy the thought. Rebekah was only now beginning to realize what he was capable of. But she continued to hope. The last time she tried to talk to Uncle Harry, the desolation on his face made ice run through her veins. Douglas insisted their betrothal was a long-standing commitment and refused to budge.
I could run away. If there was only me to think of. She had never been afraid of taking on the harsh world in which they lived. She could forage for food and knew of dugouts where she could sleep. She could disappear and try going it alone, but it came back to being a close-knit community. Finding out about feral vampires makes getting away from Douglas impossible, for now, at least.
She couldn’t blame Harry. Uncle Harry’s a good man, and having a six-year-old to consider must have been a ‘damned if you do, damned if you don’t’ moment. He must have wished for an easier route to salvation. It had not been easy for any of them to leave everything behind and find a way to survive, and it had to be said, Douglas had been their savior. And then, there’s Leizle. Douglas will turn his attention to her if I reject him. She was seventeen, and the closest thing to a sister Rebekah would ever have. I can’t let that happen.
Douglas was a predator driven by greed. I’ve managed to keep him at arm’s length so far, I’ll just have to keep on doing that. He would not handle rejection well. I’ll find a way out, somehow. A lump lodged in her throat. Even if I never see Connor again, Douglas is not going to touch me.
She closed her eyes and summoned Connor’s face, focusing on the details she wanted to store inside. I don’t even know his full name. Suddenly, it seemed important, a thread of intimacy to hang on to. “What’s your name?” she whispered. At his quizzical glance, she said, “Not Connor, the rest, Connor who?”
His shoulder shrugged beneath her cheek. “My name was Sanderson. But, of course, we don’t use surnames, they are for families.” He turned to look at her, his smile soft. “We don’t have families, only the one who binds us.” His hand pressed on her hip, and she suppressed the ‘ouch’ inside her head.
Rebekah digested this silently. Would I have to be a vampire to be his ‘one’? Too embarrassed and fearful of the answer to ask, she sighed.
Misunderstanding, he said, “I don’t mind being just Connor. What’s your name, Rebekah...?”
She grinned against his chest. “Rebekah Wylde, with a Y.”
“Rebekah Wylde. How fitting.” He chuckled. “Certainly wild, in the reckless sense, hmm?” He sighed in his turn. “There’s every chance, if I weren’t dead already, you’d be the death of me.”
Chapter 9
The late afternoon sun warmed her shoulders as Rebekah picked her way across the rough meadow. Concentrating on lifting her knees to avoid tripping over thick clumps of grass kept the regrets crowding her thoughts at bay, but tears still blurred her vision. Home. But it didn’t feel that way, not any more.
Two familiar figures appeared, as if by magic, emerging from a blackened fissure in the hillside. Walking forward, they closed the distance, and she shaded her eyes in a pretended squint, quickly wiping the tears away.
“Rebekah, thank goodness. We had a search party set to leave in the morning.” Uncle Harry embraced her, and Rebekah swallowed hard. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
She wanted to be glad too, but she had left her heart behind in the shaded woods, and her chest felt hollow. Looking over Harry’s shoulder as he released her, a chasm of dread cracked open, and she scrabbled for a foothold on the edge when Douglas approached.
“Harry was getting worried.” At a sharp look from Harry, Douglas smiled coldly. “But it’s done now, and you’re safe.”
“What happened?” asked Harry. “We waited at the safe house as long as we could.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Ignoring Douglas, Rebekah rubbed the tender spot on the back of her head. “But the good news is, you were right. The beta blockers work, Uncle Harry, although I wouldn’t recommend we try it again. I got caught out leaving the drugstore, but I managed to get into the park and stay still. The vampire passed me by.”
Douglas snorted, his expression judgemental as he said, “So where were you? You had time to get back. We have enough to worry about.”
“Uncle Harry?” Rebekah noticed the ashen cast to his complexion for the first time.
“Only half the away team have returned. Stan got bitten by a badger and they had to leave him. Greg went back while the rest headed for home. With Stan being injured, it could be a week before they make it back here.”
“I’m sorry, I guess you didn’t need me adding to it.”
Douglas muttered, “Too right.�
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Glaring at him, Rebekah said quietly, “What we didn’t bet on is that there’s a shockwave if they pass by close. The faster they are travelling, the more forceful the backdraft. I got knocked out.”
“Are you okay? How long were you out for?” Douglas abruptly oozed concern.
Thinking back to Connor’s words, Rebekah said, “Only a few minutes, I think. But there were too many vampires around for me to make it to the safe house. I had to lay low for a while. Too long, sorry.”
“But, you must have found transport to get across country this quick?” Douglas scoured Rebekah’s face until she blushed.
“I’m not useless. I checked out the valet parking at the big hotels by the river. I got lucky, until I ran out of gas.”
“You must be more careful. An abandoned car will be noticed.” Douglas’ hard features underlined his real feelings.
“There’s no pleasing some people,” she muttered. “I pulled over in a village, it would be fine once the engine’s cold. I even threw dirt on it.” Rebekah bit her tongue as her mind shrieked ‘keep it simple’. Liars always trip themselves up, her mother used to say, and she was beginning to see why.
“Well, let’s just hope you’re right. But you’re here, and that’s what counts.” Douglas smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes as he slipped an arm around Rebekah’s shoulders. The urge to shrug him off and run back up the hill to where she left Connor was hard to resist.
She glanced back towards the tree line, dragging her feet, but she couldn’t see him, and tears blurred her vision once more. She turned back, seeking out Uncle Harry.
“Rebekah?” Harry’s concern was genuine. “Are you all right?”
“It’s just the sun, Uncle Harry. Of course I’m all right. I’m home,” she said quietly and the lump in her throat threatened to choke her.
Douglas pulled her into step beside him and marched towards the eco-town. His suffocating presence settled over her like a mask, her lungs ached with the effort of breathing and suddenly she wished she was dead. Dead like Connor.
The walk across the gentle rise in the meadow ended abruptly at the foot of a sharp escarpment where part of the eroded hillside had fallen away. The avalanche had opened up a deep wound in the wall of rock and clay, creating the perfect site for the manmade entryway to Station Four. It artfully mimicked a natural fissure. The weeds trailing from the overgrown pasture up above added an extra layer to the disguise.
Douglas’ determined step did not falter when the thick grass underfoot gave way to the packed clumps of silt which were dumped on the threshold each time heavy rainfall washed topsoil down over the cliff.
Pausing before the gaping crevice, and without losing contact, Douglas maneuvered Rebekah ahead of him into the tunnel entrance. As she stepped from the meadow onto the polished earth floor inside the concealed cavern, Douglas followed so closely behind she could smell the cloud of stale sweat clinging to his flesh.
Douglas’ six foot tall bulky frame blocked the doorway and cast the reception cavern into darkness. Waiting for her eyes to adjust, Rebekah slipped back further into the gloom and leant against the wall. Her fingertips folding around the familiar lumps of tightly packed rocks, and the cold, rough masonry at her back chased the sun’s warmth from her heart.
Pulling a flashlight from his utility belt, Douglas flicked the switch, and played the dim beam deliberately over Rebekah’s face.
She stared defiantly ahead.
The dancing rays swept over the mud-covered chrome of the motorcycles parked in the alcove carved into one wall, and Rebekah had the urge to leap onto one, mow Douglas down, and race headlong back out over the rough meadow. But it’s too late now.
Douglas finally moved, making room for Uncle Harry at his side.
“Careful with the flashlight, Douglas. It may not be dark yet, but they’ll see it.”
“Hardly likely, Harry, although with the stunt Rebekah pulled, she might have been spotted. If they start the searches again, we’ll know who to blame.” Douglas threw a disgusted glance in her direction, before flicking the torch off and plunging them all into shadow.
Harry said firmly, “Let it go. At least we know the beta-blockers and suppressant spray work. Not a test we would have tried on purpose, but Rebekah pulled it off and that’s all that matters.” Harry reached out, fumbling in the half-light until he squeezed Rebekah’s fingers, and added quietly, “You kept your head. I’m proud of you.”
Rebekah’s cheeks burned as she pushed away from the wall and muttered, “Thanks Uncle Harry. But still, we need to take care. It might have been a fluke.”
Turning her back on the parked motorcycles, Rebekah headed for the access tunnel leading into the heart of the hillside, stepping over the gulley which took rainwater from the cavern back out into the meadow. The floor beyond was worn smooth, and when Douglas’ fingers closed on her arm, Rebekah recoiled and slipped on the slick surface. She could feel her pulse throbbing beneath his tight grip and her heart lodged in her throat.
“Mind out, we’ve got you back in one piece. It would be a pity if you took a tumble now,” he said as he propelled her forward into the descending darkness. “Let’s get you inside.”
There was no lighting in the first section, but Rebekah could almost see the spite on Douglas’ face, and the tunnel seemed darker and more oppressive than she remembered. The feeling of returning home, of being able to relax as the threat of the vampire world melted away, had flipped on an axis, and every muffled footfall tightened the knot in her stomach. Knowing Connor would already be miles away, filled her with panic. Guilt overwhelmed her as she admitted to herself that, given the time all over again, she would have chosen Connor.
After thirty yards, they slipped behind the heavy sackcloth curtain which prevented light traveling up the tunnel and being detected by keen vampire eyes.
The methods of lighting from here on in depended on the oxygen levels provided by ventilation holes, and were like milestones on a map. Dancing flames of wall-mounted torches burned in the first section, but deeper underground, they gave way to the weak glow of bulkhead lamps.
Along with her sight, Rebekah regained self-control and shrugged off Douglas’ hand.
The main access tunnel connected to each of the large communal caverns, and when they had reached the communal living quarters, Rebekah grabbed her opportunity of escape.
“I think I’ll take a bath,” she said firmly.
Douglas stared in silence, his narrowed gaze looking closer than Rebekah wanted.
She walked away with a considered unhurried stride, until she turned the corner and could heave a sigh of relief.
She took the descending tunnel path to the kitchen. The babbling lullaby of rushing water should have eased the knots from her shoulders, but it just made listening for following footsteps more of a strain.
As she walked into the laundry room, a large bear-like grip landed on her shoulder, and she gasped.
“Sorry, pet,” said a gruff voice, and Rebekah’s alarm was swallowed in a bear hug that matched the hand.
Rebekah wrapped her arms around Oscar’s solid torso and hugged him back. Laying her cheek on the soft padding of his chest, she squeezed her eyes shut. Tears ached in her throat as she said, “Hey, Oscar.”
His voice rumbled beneath her ear. “You had us all worried there for a bit. It’s good to have you back.”
Moving his hands to her shoulders, Oscar leaned back, looking down into her face. His graying hair was awry and his face, as always, looked as though he had just finished laughing, until he met her eyes and amusement melted.
Silence stretched until Rebekah shuffled under his intent gaze and said, “It’s okay, Oscar, I’m safe and sound.”
With his eyes still scouring her face, he said slowly, “I guess you’re here to hijack my laundry session, hmm?”
“It’s okay, I can wait.”
“You’ll do no such thing. Just add bubble bath instead of detergent and you’re g
ood to go.” He chuckled. “Go take that bath, lass. I’ll make sure you don’t get disturbed.”
She gave him a weak smile and nodded. She wanted to be alone, but she felt cold when his comforting bulk deserted her.
Rebekah turned away and walked the half dozen steps from the laundry room into the washroom, and the soft echoes of Oscar busying himself in his kitchen finally eased her tight muscles.
Grabbing a warm towel from where it draped over a hot water pipe, she ducked behind the heavy curtain, stripped off her clothes, and stepped gratefully down into the sunken Jacuzzi of warm water. A hot bath was a luxury reserved for foraging days. They were a reward to be earned. Douglas’ method heated the water in an inventive process involving the harnessing of the rushing tide of an underground spring. This powered a water wheel, which generated the electricity to warm tanks of water.
Rebekah sank below the surface and wished she could stay there.
She had lived in the eco-town for over a decade, and it was all she knew. Her memories of ‘normal’ human life were dreamlike sequences which might as well have happened to someone else.
Uncle Harry had moved into Rebekah’s family home in the early days, when the pandemic first started. With no memory of her father, who died when she was still a baby, her mother’s death left them both reeling. Harry had returned from the hospital, taken Rebekah into his arms, and held her until she had no more tears left. He had no idea how to cope with a ghostly-white six-year-old girl who followed him everywhere he went, in case he too died.
She woke up one morning and finally noticed the house had filled up with boxes. She didn’t know it then, but Uncle Harry already realized that things would never be the same, not just for them, but for any human being.
The Centre for Disease Control officially declared the pandemic a global event of catastrophic proportions, eight months later. By this time, in the City of London, too many of the sick died each day to plan individual funeral services; mass cremations became compulsory. Churches held weekly memorials where the names of the dead were read out, with the lists getting longer as each week passed. The services were held daily, near the end, and Uncle Harry stopped attending, concentrating instead on gathering the supplies needed to make their escape. The house eventually resembled a warehouse of supplies and equipment.