Blood Memory: The Complete Season One (Books 1-5)

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Blood Memory: The Complete Season One (Books 1-5) Page 24

by Perrin Briar


  “We’ve been on the land less than a day and we’ve already discovered more about your past than I did in a year of treatment. This will be good for you. If it wasn’t for Queenie, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Anne became interested in a valance hanging over the curtain. Jordan stepped up close to her.

  “Anne?” he said. “What do you mean?

  Anne sighed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think he wants you, Jordan. He tasted my blood, and then spat it out. But when he tasted yours… There was a look on his face like a kid with his favourite toy. There’s something about your blood he wants.”

  “I must taste good, I guess,” Jordan said. He smiled without any mirth. “With any luck we’ll be long gone before he finds us again. Get some rest, Anne. It’ll be a long journey back and we might not be able to rest for long.”

  Anne headed up the stairs. She paused halfway up. “You’re not coming?”

  “I’m okay here.”

  “You can’t stay up all night, Jordan.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Make sure you don’t.” Anne’s footsteps disappeared up the stairs.

  Jordan climbed into the overstuffed armchair and put his feet up on the equally decrepit ottoman. Through the window Jordan could see houses line the stream on either side. The flowing water made soft soothing noises. Somewhere a duck quacked. His arm hit the armrest, sending up a small puff of dust. Jordan’s chin rested on his chest, and he slept.

  107.

  Anne started awake.

  She looked through sleepy slitted eyes at Selena, who snored lightly in the single bed beside her own. Selena’s hand was outstretched, grasping for something, but found only air.

  Anne rolled over and snuggled deeper into the blankets. She sank into it, and immediately began to drift off again.

  She heard a sound.

  A voice. It sounded like it was coming from downstairs. She swung her feet onto the floor, crept out of the room, and onto the landing. She held onto the old worn knob at the top of the stairs with one hand and leaned over the bannister. She listened, but the house was silent, save for the gentle tinkling of the stream outside. She turned back to the bedroom.

  The voice came again. She crept down the stairs, placing her feet to make as little noise as possible. The voice was muffled by the living room door. She pushed it open.

  Sunlight spilled through the large bay window and caught the niches and crevices of the armchair, casting a shell-shaped shadow across the floor and bookshelf on the back wall. Anne rounded the armchair and found Jordan asleep. His brow was knitted together with deep creases and dimpled with sweat. Jordan grunted again, the word unintelligible with the thickness of sleep.

  Anne leaned in close. “Jordan, wake up.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Jordan. Wake up.”

  He tossed and turned on the armchair.

  “Jordan!”

  Jordan flew up, eyes wide open. “Run!” he screamed.

  His breath came in heavy pants. He peered around at his surroundings and didn’t notice Anne. He held his head in his hands, body shaking.

  “Jordan, it’s okay.”

  Jordan started. Anne flinched back, then with hesitancy laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re okay.”

  “Anne…” He took a deep calming breath. “It was the dream.”

  “Was it the same dream?”

  Jordan nodded, eyes distant.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Jordan looked at Anne. “I think… maybe Mary and Stacey were in the dream.”

  “Was the dream different from last time?”

  “No, it was the same.”

  “Then Mary and Stacey were there the first time?”

  “I’m not sure. There were two people standing at the window. A young girl – about Stacey’s age – pressing her hand against the window, and a woman standing beside her.”

  “You think it might be them?”

  “Maybe.” Jordan’s face contorted at the memory of it. “The house was on fire, and I couldn’t move. I think there were Lurchers in the house, too. All I could do was shout.”

  Anne wrapped her arms around him. “It was just a nightmare, Jordan.”

  “I thought you said it was a memory?”

  “If Mary and Stacey were there, it can’t be, can it?”

  “It was so real, though. So real. I could feel the flames, and I was so scared…”

  “It’s common to dream about lost ones. With time these nightmares will go.”

  Jordan was quiet a moment, relaxed in her arms. “There was one thing that wasn’t in the dream the first time.”

  “Oh?”

  “Mary shouted something at me – from the window.”

  “What did she say?”

  Jordan pulled back from her embrace, expression haunted. “She said, ‘Jordy. Don’t go.’”

  108.

  Stan and Selena emptied the cupboards of any viable food and packed it into shopping bags. The birds were out in full force. They flitted past the window, chasing one another. A saucepan of water boiled on the gas stove.

  “So, what’s the plan today?” Selena asked Jordan.

  “Stan and I thought we’d go out looking for a car. You babysit the food and Jess. Everybody okay with that?”

  They were.

  They left the food outside the back gate. Jordan and Stan walked down the quiet country road that ran along the back of the houses and disappeared round the corner.

  Jessie sat on the front lawn, fingers plucking at the grass. The flowers and plants, though unkempt and overgrown, still grew within their landscape-designed confines. Selena plucked a few thick-stemmed plants, beheaded them, and began to braid them.

  Selena was a brown-skinned beauty. Tall and statuesque, she dominated any room she walked into. Her hair hung in short curls down to her eyes, which were a deep chestnut brown and twinkled whenever she smiled. The cuts in the corners of her mouth were barely visible.

  Anne leaned against the white picket gatepost. She shut her eyes and breathed in the powerful scents and fresh air. She smiled.

  “What are you smiling at?” Selena asked.

  “It’s so clean and quiet here.”

  “Every where’s quiet these days.”

  “But not clean.”

  “That’s true.” Selena concentrated on braiding. “He likes you, you know.”

  Anne opened her eyes. “Who?”

  Selena gave Anne a flat stare. “Stan. Jordan, of course. Though I’m sure, if you’re into older men…”

  Anne slapped Selena’s arm.

  “You haven’t made a move yet?”

  Anne shifted, uncomfortable. “No.”

  “I’m not going to make a move – just so you know. Not that he would be interested in me anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He never looks at me. He likes you.”

  Anne’s cheeks burned red.

  “Let me put it this way. That day we escaped from Terry? There’s never been a man who could not remember my name before.”

  Anne smiled. “Thanks.”

  “So, why haven’t you two got together yet?”

  “It’s… complicated.”

  Selena shook her head. “The Old World was complicated. The New World is simple. If you like him, you should tell him.”

  “I will,” Anne said, not looking at Selena. “So, uh, what did you do before all this?”

  “Change the topic all you want, but it’s the truth.” She looked up, staring into the distance. “I was a dancer.”

  “Really? What style?”

  “Bump and grind. Stripping.”

  “Oh.”

  “It was good money, and I enjoyed it. Having all those men – and women – wanting me, but not able to have me. I like to tease. That was how I met Stephen – at the club. But he looked at me differen
tly, not like most men. I felt like it was really me looking at him. That made him special.”

  “He wasn’t so special at the end, selling you to Terry like that.”

  Selena shrugged. “He is still special to me. Most days when I wake up I find my hand reaching out, reaching for something not there. I’m reaching for him – for Stephen. I wake up from dark dreams of men on top of me, their sweat on my skin, their weight pinning me down. I could hardly breathe. Black spots came in my vision and I begged the darkness to take me, but it never did. So I thought of my Stephen and I reached for him.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I am free now. Thanks to you. Stephen betrayed me, but there’s not a second goes by that I don’t wish I could see him again. Despite everything, I hope he’s still alive and well.” She looked away. “That must sound stupid.”

  “No. You love him.”

  “Stupidity and love. Surprising how often those co-in… coincident?”

  “Coincide.”

  “Right. Coincide.” Selena tied a knot in the end of the braid and made it into a circle. She sat it on Jessie’s head like a crown. “You should get in with Jordan quick. There’s no time to be shy. Not these days.”

  The birds stopped singing. A strong wind howled through the trees, scattering leaves and curling Anne’s hair about her face. Anne’s hand tightened around the picket fence. Selena reached into the shopping bags and came out with a butcher knife.

  There was a tinny sound like a lion growling in a tunnel. It grew louder, and resolved into a whirring engine.

  An old Vauxhall Cavalier turned the corner. It was eighty per cent rust, twenty per cent bird poo. It pulled up with screaming brakes. Anne released the fence, and Selena returned the butcher knife.

  “Come on, Jess,” Anne said, helping her into the car.

  Selena and Anne loaded the boot with their supplies.

  “You couldn’t find anything newer?” Selena said.

  “Blame Stan,” Jordan said. “Said he wanted a car at least as old as he is.”

  “No I never!” Stan said.

  Anne looked back at the country house with sad eyes. Selena climbed into the car with Jessie. As Anne reached for the door, Jordan pulled forward a few feet. Anne reached for the door again, and he pulled out of reach.

  “I swear I’ll kill you!” Anne said.

  “Better you than Queenie,’ Jordan said.

  Jordan let her get in, and they drove away.

  109.

  Jordan weaved his way through as best he could. The brakes screeched as he came to a stop. In the right-hand lane, cars were packed bumper-to-bumper, their contents spewed out over the road like someone had used an explosive. On the left there was a Land Rover Discovery. Stretching out before it was empty road.

  The road descended into a steep embankment on either side and petered out to a flat expanse that gave way to heavy woodland. The sun was at its highest apex in the sky and yet the rays could not penetrate the foliage. A crow cawed overhead.

  Selena looked at each of the others in the car. “What are we waiting for?” she asked. “We have to move the car out of the way.”

  “Don’t you sense it?” Anne asked.

  “Sense what?”

  “A trap.”

  Selena looked out at the area. A wind picked up, and the dense foliage clapped with a thousand hands. A bird swung down and landed on a signpost that said, REEDHAM: 1 MILE.

  Selena shrugged. “It’s just a car.”

  “We’ll find another way,” Jordan said, reaching for the gearstick.

  “There is no other way. We’ve been down every road. This is the last one.”

  “Wait,” Jordan said, putting the car into first and edging the car forward. “I have an idea.” He nudged the car in front. He pushed down the accelerator. The engine roared, the wheels spun, and smoke billowed.

  “Jordan!” Stan said. “Jordan! Stop!”

  Jordan let up. The car in front hadn’t budged an inch. “It must have its handbrake on.”

  Selena opened her door and climbed out.

  “Selena, wait!” Anne unbuckled her seatbelt. “Selena, don’t. Come back.”

  “Anne, stay there,” Jordan said.

  “You guys,” Selena said, rolling her eyes and strutting toward the Land Rover. “You can’t be suspicious of everything all the time. We got lucky. After we move the car, we will be free.”

  Anne reached for the door handle.

  “Anne, don’t!” Stan said.

  Jordan wound down his window. “Selena, come back. We’ll find another way.”

  Selena peered inside the Land Rover. Confident it was empty, she opened the front passenger door, leaned over, disengaged the handbrake and stood up. She turned and smiled back at the others. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

  She slammed the door closed.

  There was a rustle in the underbrush. Dark figures hurtled out of it.

  110.

  A big Lurcher burst out of the foliage at full limping sprint, a dozen others hot on his heels. He was topless, his ribcage jutting from his skin like a birdcage. His Levi jeans were torn at the knees and frayed at the ankles. His bottom lip had been ripped off and what remained of his teeth were brown and rotten.

  “Selena!” Jordan honked the horn and flashed the headlights. “Get back in the car! Quick!”

  Selena looked over her shoulder, and when she turned back, her eyes were wide with panic. The distance to the Vauxhall Cavalier in front of her seemed impossibly far, the speed the Lurchers ran behind her up the embankment, impossibly fast.

  Jordan shouted and gestured at the Land Rover. “Get in the car! Get in the car!”

  Selena ran on legs made of jelly toward their beaten up Vauxhall Cavalier.

  Jordan put the car into gear. “She’s not going to make it.”

  He hit the accelerator and rammed the Land Rover. It hopped forward and sailed down the embankment, picking up speed.

  One Lurcher caught the car full in the chest and disappeared beneath it. After a moment it was back on its feet. The other Lurchers weaved around it. Selena ran around the side of the Vauxhall Cavalier, slipping on stray gravel, hitting the tarmac with a weighty slap. She scrambled to her feet and reached out. Anne caught one hand. Selena’s other hand found the seatbelt.

  “Go! Go! Go!” Anne shouted.

  Jordan hit the accelerator, and the car pulled away. Selena ran alongside the car. The seatbelt didn’t catch, and kept unspooling. Anne lost Selena’s hand. The big Lurcher was almost on her as Selena jumped into the car, legs dangling outside. Anne grabbed Selena by the armpits and pulled at her.

  “Come on! Get in!” Anne screamed.

  Up ahead, a car was parked diagonally across the road, pinching the space between it and another car in the right-hand lane. It wasn’t wide enough for them to pass through unimpeded.

  “Hold on!” Jordan shouted.

  Stan braced himself on the dashboard. Anne pulled harder at Selena, but couldn’t get her through the door.

  The front panel on the driver’s side screeched along the parked car, sending up sparks through Jordan’s open window. He raised an arm to shield himself. Jordan shifted down a gear, the revs riding high. The front left corner smashed into the other parked car, knocking it aside. The Vauxhall Cavalier powered through, the speedometer needle dipping, and then picking up speed.

  Selena’s door slammed shut, smashing her in the ribs. She grunted. Her mouth flapped open, unable to draw breath.

  The road ahead was clearer, a few stray vehicles had been left, their doors flung wide open. Jordan swerved around them.

  “Is everyone all right?” Jordan said, darting a quick look into the backseat. “Is everyone okay?”

  Selena gasped for breath, oxygen sawing in and out of her throat. Her eyes were wide with fear. Tears ran down her cheeks. She pointed back to her leg. Anne pulled Selena’s arm, but Selena resisted.

  “Come on, Selena!” Anne
said. “Quick!”

  Selena squirmed in Anne’s grip.

  “Selena, what are you-?” Anne’s eyes widened. “No!”

  There was a sickening crunch like biting into an overly ripe apple. Selena’s face twisted with pain. The big Lurcher seized Selena by the hair and pulled himself into the car. It spat a chunk of Selena’s leg out. Blood ran over its gums and between its teeth. It grinned.

  Jordan looked back and saw the Lurcher’s face. His blue eyes shone bright, limp strands of hair hanging over his burnt face.

  Selena kicked at him while Anne pried at the monster’s fingers griping Selena’s hair.

  “Get it off me!” Selena cried. “Get it off!”

  Anne beat at the beast with her fists, but it made no difference. Jordan swung the car left and right to dislodge Queenie, but his grip was too strong.

  Something rolled about on the floor, knocking against Anne’s leg. She reached for it.

  Selena screamed as Queenie pulled harder on her hair, pulling himself further up her back.

  Jessie hummed to herself, rocking, eyes closed.

  Anne’s fingers came across the thing on the floor. She brought it up. A half-empty bottle of antifreeze.

  Queenie, teeth stained red, grinned and opened its mouth for another taste. Selena screamed. There was a snap as Queenie pried something white from Selena’s back – Selena’s shoulder blade. The air smelled thick and clotted.

  Selena cried out, her scream a mix of fear, rage and resignation.

  Anne brought the bottle around and smacked the Lurcher in the face. She pummelled him again and again. Queenie raised his one arm over his face, releasing Selena’s hair. He caught the bottle. Anne unscrewed the cap. The blue liquid spilled over the Lurcher’s face, stinging his eyes, and running down his throat.

  Anne punched Queenie in the face. It tumbled back, but gripped the doorframe with its hand, body dragging along the road. He never screamed nor made a sound.

  The exposed tendons in Queenie’s arm tensed as he pulled himself up. Anne slammed the door on his fingers, which jerked up straight like they were attached to an invisible pulley.

  Queenie’s body rolled and slid to a stop on the tarmac. Anne opened the door and prodded Queenie’s quivering fingers outside.

 

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