No Shelter from Darkness

by Evans, Mark D.

  “But then what?”

  “He couldn't get back up. There was nothing to climb on. So me and Dave, we tried to dangle some wood over the edge for him to grab, but we got too close. The floor started to move. Me and Dave jumped out of the way just in time, but it fell down on Ollie. Most of it missed him, but his arm's trapped and now he can't move. He said he thinks it's broken or something.”

  A light drizzle had started. Beth had led the boy—with Mary still trailing—to the last of the houses that had fallen on Gawber Street. When Charlie had mentioned the hole, she knew exactly where they'd been. Her gut twisted at the thought of the hazard that had taken the vampire by surprise. But Oliver was alive, and she had to be thankful for that.

  On the roadside sat Dave—she presumed. He stood up as she approached. “Why aren't you with my brother?” Beth asked.

  “It got dark,” he complained. “I could hardly find my way out.”

  Beth shoved her dampening hair from her face. Mary had caught up but still lingered a step behind her. She was about to shout at Dave for leaving Oliver alone when the air raid sirens drowned out any and all noise.

  “We gotta go!” shouted Dave over the infernal racket to Charlie.

  “What about Ollie?” Charlie shouted back. Both boys looked up through the rain at Beth.

  There was no way she could ask them to stay out in a raid. She wasn't sure what use they'd be anyway. She still wanted to give them a piece of her mind, but now wasn't the time or the place, so she huffed, “Piss off, then.”

  The two boys ran away up the dark, glistening street.

  The closest siren began to wind down from its first oscillation, just as Mary raised her voice over the din. “Where is he?”

  “In there.” Beth pointed over the mound of rubble. It looked different than the last time she was here. The Heavy Rescue Service had pushed up much of what had been on the road, adding to the debris already piled up where houses used to stand. She could only guess that they'd inadvertently hidden the vampire's makeshift basement with loose rubble. They probably didn't even know it was there. And then it became an accident waiting to happen.

  The siren whirred back up to its ear-splitting volume as Beth placed a foot on the first sturdy looking bit of rubble. The light rain had already covered everything; she knew the way would be more treacherous because of it. The last shade of gray faded from the sky. The moon was nothing more than a thin crescent in a corner of the sky, lighting only the thin clouds that covered it. Yet Beth could see where she was going. The pain in her eyes wasn't half as bad as it usually was, and if it hadn't been for the urgency of the situation she might have stopped to marvel at how things seemed to be washed in a very faint shade of green.

  Even with the obtrusive sirens, she still heard Mary's footing slip behind her.

  “Ow!”

  “You okay?” yelled Beth, glancing back.

  Mary's foot had disappeared up to the ankle through a small hole in the rubble. She bent over and blindly groped with her hands to steady herself. Beth hadn't realized just how dark it must be for everyone else. Mary steadied herself, took her foot out, but then hesitated to put it back down.

  “To your left,” yelled Beth.

  Mary finally found solid ground. “How the hell can you … see?” Her question seemed to fade, almost as if she realized how stupid it was.

  “Go back and stay on the road,” replied Beth, ignoring the question.

  “What?” Mary shouted.

  “Go back.” shouted Beth.

  “What if … you need my help?” yelled Mary, trying to force an excuse to come along.

  “I'll shout to you if I need you, but at this rate there'll be two of you needing rescue.” Unbeknownst to Mary, Beth could see the hesitation and concern in her expression. She had a feeling it wasn't for her own welfare. Mary obeyed regardless, her desperate curiosity smothered by self-preservation.

  Beth continued and traced with her eyes what looked to be the safest route over to the dividing wall that still stuck up slightly from the rubble. She jumped from a lump of mortar to a few bricks. They were loose, but she managed to direct her weight so they wouldn't topple, before hopping over to some sturdy wood. She wanted to get to her brother as quickly as she could and was thankful for her sure footing. But a niggling question popped into her head. Why is Mary so protective of Ollie all of a sudden?

  Beth glanced back but stepped forward, onto a brick that wasn't there. Her silhouette against the night sky must have disappeared, for as she quickly caught herself on a pile of rubble Mary shouted.

  “Don't hurt him.”

  Beth slowly stood up and looked back over the way she'd come, into Mary's eyes filled with fear.

  She knows.

  Mary would be able to see nothing more than Beth's silhouette rise, yet the revelation filled the air between them. But it would have to wait. Beth had a mission.

  She turned, leapt and planted a foot on plaster, mindful of the steel rods poking out. She jumped down and steadied herself on the remains of the internal wall. Around her, the sirens wound down all the way to leave her in a darkened landscape with nothing but the soft pitter patter of rain. She heard a sniff and looked ahead of her. There was a break in the rubble in front where there was nothing but black. It was the pit. She was near its edge.

  “Ollie?”

  “Who's that? Beth?”

  The sound of his voice brought a smile to Beth's lips, but it was soon stolen. With the ceasing of the sirens, Beth thought the faint ring in her ears was some kind of aftereffect, but now she recognized it as the low, far-off buzz that accompanied bombers.

  Beth edged up to the black hole in the ground. The hum in the sky above was faint, but there was no reason to take her time. She tested the floor; it bowed slightly under her weight but seemed stable enough for now. She got down to her knees and squinted, trying to make anything out in the pit. From the absence of light, it took her a few moments to make heads or tails of what she was looking at. Something moved. It helped her form the picture.

  Her brother was lying on his back, on top of some broken floorboards and other debris. His left arm vanished under a large lump of something; Beth made it out to be the familiar pattern of bricks. It was a small section of wall, almost a yard square if she had to guess. Above him, a few inches away from his shoulder, Beth spotted the steel leg of the bed frame that had taken the vampire's life by chance. A few inches …

  Beth shuddered at the thought.

  “Hey, Ollie,” said Beth. “Hold on a second, okay? I'm gonna come down.”

  “Is Mum there? Dad?” His voice was close to cracking. He'd already been crying.

  “Afraid not, but I'm gonna get you out. Just hold on.” Beth looked to the right where she'd swung down from a joist during her previous visit, but the way was now blocked and the joist was snapped off at the wall. The steps were still hard to get to, and with her greater sense of urgency, Beth was resigned to jumping down. It was risky, with the darkness posing a problem even for her, but it was a risk worth taking.

  The rain still fell, making reflective surfaces out of everything around. It helped Beth pick out what looked to be a relatively safe spot to land. It also served as a warning of the slippery hazard. She dangled a leg over the side, balancing on one foot, and held onto an anchored protrusion. She was about to let go, but her gut jumped instead. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself through the motions again. She kept her focus on what she hoped was the ground below, let go of her anchor, and hopped from the ledge.

  Her left foot landed first, on a solid surface. But the ground gave way under her right foot. It was a wooden plank and it pivoted on something underneath. Caught off guard, Beth fell forward onto her hands, and a nail drove through her palm. She yelped, ripping her hand away immediately and putting it back down by her side to steady her balance. She stood up and shook her hand before looking at her palm, seeing the darkness of a wound. She doubted it had gone through, but the pain was
almost unbearable. Her brother's dire need made her work through it.

  “Beth? What's happening?” asked Oliver, his voice quivering.

  “Nothing,” said Beth, sucking in air. “Just … a scratch.” The searing pain wouldn't let up, but the hum coming from above was getting nearer. Beth had to move.

  She turned and climbed carefully toward her brother, inspecting his situation as best she could. It was too dark to see most details, but the lump of wall and Oliver's arm disappearing up to the elbow underneath it were clear. It seemed to be the only thing pinning him down. “Is it just your arm?” Beth asked, just to be sure.

  “Think so,” he whimpered, looking in her general direction but not into her eyes; Beth could only tell from the whites of his. His aimless staring reminded her of a blind man.

  “How bad does it hurt?”

  “Really bad. I think it's broken,” he sobbed.

  Without thinking it through, Beth crouched by her brother, put her hands on the side of the hunk of rubble, and pushed. Oliver erupted in a wail of pain.

  “Shit! Sorry, Ollie.”

  She took her hands away and Oliver calmed back down to his gentle sobbing. From way over, Mary's voice floated through the rain.

  “Oliver?” There was a hesitation. “Beth?”

  “It's okay, Mary,” Beth shouted back. “He's stuck, but I'm gonna get him out.”

  “Please, don't push it again,” sobbed Oliver in her ear.

  “I won't.” But now what? she wondered. It looked like it was a heavy clump, and though it had only been brief, her push didn't feel like it had any effect. But she could see nothing else to do. She began climbing over her brother, getting her feet into suitable positions.

  “Ow.”

  “Sorry,” Beth had to say again after stepping on his leg. “Right, Ollie. You've gotta be really brave for me now, okay? I'm gonna try and lift it, and as soon as you think you can, you need to pull your arm out.”

  “What if it's broken?” he sobbed.

  “Then Mum'll fix it. But we need to get it out first. Don't worry, it won't be left behind.”

  “Is it going to hurt?”

  Beth smiled sympathetically before remembering he wouldn't be able to see it. “Yes,” she said. “But no matter how bad it gets, you've got to pull it out. It'll be a lot worse if you don't.”

  Oliver sniffed and nodded. Beth's heart almost broke.

  “Okay,” he said.

  Beth wrapped her fingers under the edge of the clump of bricks and mortar, either side of Oliver's arm. The nail wound in her right palm stung, but she carried on. She thought it a good sign that there was a gap under the bricks; it meant his arm hadn't been flattened. If it had, she was sure he'd be in a lot more pain. The sound of planes still approached, but she hadn't heard any booms or whistles. She didn't have time to ponder if that was good or not. “Okay, here we go.” Beth took a deep breath. The wound in her hand throbbed. She heaved.

  Oliver whimpered, bravely keeping his mouth closed to keep his yell muffled. Beth felt the section of wall pivot slightly at the far end. Her side of it was rising slightly, and feeling it move spurred her on. She needed to stop and breathe, but she continued to put in every last ounce of effort she could muster. Lifting it an inch or two, her strength was fading quickly.

  “Pull,” she strained to say under held breath.

  Oliver yelled freely, and Beth felt his arm brush her fingers. She looked down, straining her eyes, and saw the dark shape of an arm come free—complete with hand and fingers. She let go, letting out all the breath she'd held in. The rough brickwork scraped down her fingers and made them sting, but nowhere near as badly as the nail wound. There was a deep boom as the wall landed from its two-inch drop and cracked under its own weight.

  Beth breathed furiously. She was exhausted, but the air she breathed had a new scent to it. It stopped her short. Her insides jumped in excitement at the rusty metallic scent. Her jaw twitched and her body flinched. She spun her head around, toward the aroma. Oliver had felt his way back to the uneven wall and leant against it cradling his arm. He sobbed and whimpered, while looking aimlessly at it. Beth could see what he couldn't: a jagged edge of bone poking out from his forearm. He was slightly sheltered under the broken floorboards above him, and the rain wasn't washing away the blood that now oozed freely. Beth didn't need to see everything. She could smell it.

  Beautiful, delicious, unparalleled and unbeatable human blood.

  Her head tipped forward. Her nose flared involuntarily and her lips snarled into a sadistic smile. She felt the four pointed canines being pushed out; unsheathed. The tip of her tongue curled under one of the two fangs that slid down. Her heart deafened the rain and the approaching bombers. Almost subconsciously, she lowered herself into a half-crouch, ready to pounce, and though her nails were trimmed short, her fingers curled into claws. She couldn't even feel the hole in her palm any more. She felt nothing at all except raging bloodlust. Her brother leant there sobbing, oblivious to the bloodthirsty creature no more than a yard away that wanted nothing more than to cover everything with his precious life force. To swim in his blood.

  Beth could almost taste it.

  Oliver slid down the wall, sobbing, and rested his arm on his knee. Putting the fingers of his working hand on the wrist of his wounded arm, he slowly patted the skin toward the bone. Beth wanted to leap forward, grab that arm with both hands, lift it to her mouth and dig her teeth into it. She'd rip the flesh from the bone and hot blood would surge out. She could already feel it running through her own veins and breathing new life into her.

  She leant forward to pounce.

  Her stomach flipped.

  She leapt, but her feet never left the ground. Her body was frozen. Her mind was telling it what to do but it refused to obey, as if someone had disconnected one from the other.

  Oliver's fingers found broken skin and his face scrunched up like he was about to cry. He held it in though, continuing the examination of his arm by touch alone. His fingers touched tacky blood, and Beth tried again to lunge forward, the urge to do so out of her control. But again, frustratingly, she stayed glued to the ground.

  What keeps holding me back?

  Oliver gasped loudly as his little finger brushed the tip of the exposed bone. A shiver ran up Beth's stiff legs, up her spine and made her hair feel like it was standing on end.

  Oliver began to blubber, but felt once more where he now knew the damage was worse. About an inch of bone was exposed and the tips of his fingers touched the smooth surface. He howled. It was a scream, sob and gasp, all in one horrible statement of despair. Beth's snarl dropped and her fingers relaxed. A part of her still wanted the blood, but a stronger part felt sympathy; concern. Love. It was the part that had prevented her from attacking, and it was winning an internal conflict. Beth couldn't bear the pain her brother was in. She wanted to save him.

  “Ollie.” Her voice was no more than a whisper and wasn't heard over the rumble of the planes that had drowned out the rain in their proximity. She closed her eyes, swallowed her thirst, and tried again. “Ollie.”

  “Beth,” he cried. “My arm, Beth.”

  “I know, I know.” Her words were very slightly mispronounced while her fangs slowly slid back into her gums. “I'm gonna get you out of here.”

  The scent of blood still filled the air, still made her senses tingle. Her need and desire was strong, but her resolve was stronger. She looked around, trying to spot anything that would help them get out of the pit. On her own it would be easy; with a fit and able brother it would be a bit of a hassle. With Oliver wounded and unable to see where he was going, her challenge seemed impossible. The only way up Beth could think of was via the steps.

  “Stay there. I'm gonna try and make a way out.”

  “Beth, you're not going to leave me, are you?”

  Beth stepped close to her brother and tried not to smell the blood as she put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at her touch. “I would never do th
at. I said I was gonna get you out, and I will.”

  Beth clambered over to the steps and began clearing the lighter debris from them. The heavier stuff she tried to push further up against the wall, or if possible over the side. She worked as quickly as she could and worked up a sweat doing it with the bombers above bearing down. But still, there were no whistles or booms. They were definitely coming this way though, en route to the city by the sound of it.

  With the steps cleared as much as possible, leaving a path about a foot wide along the edge, she jumped back down, over the section of wall that Oliver's arm had been trapped under and back to her brother. She knew she should try and wrap the bad arm, but she wasn't going to press her luck.

  “I'm going to take your hand, okay? You need to follow me as closely as you can.”

  “I can't see anything.”

  “I'll be your eyes.”

  “How can you see?”

  “All the carrots, I guess.”

  She led her brother over the rubble, finding solid footholds and instructing him where to step as much as she could.

  Leading him slowly up the steps, blurting out instructions to mind sharp wood, she got Oliver to feel the outer edge so as not to fall off. Suddenly, he slipped, and in an instant Beth turned and put out her arm like a barrier. She saved him from a fall, but he hit his fragile arm and cried out in sobbing pain once more. It was the worst sound Beth could think of. It hurt her.

  They got to the top step with no further incident and on the way Beth was able to see more and more. It wasn't quite like coming into daylight, but it made a big difference.

  But while she could see everything, it meant that Oliver could see enough. His sobs increased, looking at the sharp edge of bone that shone in what little light the moon was sending through the clouds. Beth looked at the blood-covered arm and breathed deeply before bending down slightly.

  “Hey. I swear Mum will fix that, and then you can have one of those casts on your arm, and everyone'll be jealous. But for now, I need you to be brave just a little longer.”

  Oliver nodded with quivering lips.