by Cara Coe
A thought suddenly struck me.
“Go to your childhood home!” I demanded.
He casted a bewildered look in my direction. “What?”
“I’ve been there. Several times. There’s something I need to get from there. Please.”
“Vince might know about it. We were friends for years. He might think to check there.”
“We have enough time. Vince is busy playing turf wars with those other vamps. It won’t take long, I promise. Please. Please.” The painting I made for him was still in his childhood home, patiently waiting for his birthday to roll around. It was likely we wouldn’t be anywhere near Houston by then. I couldn’t bear to leave Kisa and his mom’s portrait hanging there, forever frozen in obscurity. Not like the others. Not when it didn’t have to be that way.
He looked hesitant but I could tell by the way his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel that he was relenting. The car jerked suddenly towards the next exit and we headed towards Highway 290.
“What were you doing there anyway?” Alex asked after several silent minutes of driving. He narrowed his eyes. “I never told you where I grew up.”
“I’m a snoop. That’s learned in Tasha 101, Alex.”
He drove quickly through the roads. I’d never driven to his home at this pace. I had always savored the drive, trying to look at the landmarks as he would’ve seen them.
One time when I’d asked him about his neighborhood growing up, he’d been vague. He shrugged and continued plopping drops onto microscope slides as he responded to me.
“It was typical. Typical streets. Typical school. Typical neighbors. My mom was always freaked out about me getting exposed so we were the normal-est of the normal families. We lived in one of those cookie cutter developments where every house is the same shape with different color shutters. We drove a Honda. We bought sliced wheat bread and hung up a tasteful amount of Christmas lights and cut our lawn every week and my mom refused to teach us to speak Korean. Even though my grandma moved here from Korea while pregnant with her and spoke very little English. We couldn’t talk to our grandmother.”
I had rubbed his back and he’d sighed but continued with his work. I never uttered a word about the little white house with blue shutters that I had spent my afternoons digging around in. I conjured the image up in my mind as he spoke, enjoying the layers his words dripped over the memories I had of laying in his old bed and staring at his Beastie Boys poster.
He slowed the vehicle to a crawl and pulled the moving truck up to the curb in front of the house before turning off the engine. He faced me expectantly.
“Five minutes,” I breathed to him with a small smile before sliding out of the passenger door. He shook his head but followed me.
“Did you break in?” he asked as I pulled a key out from under a dead plant on the porch.
“The first time,” I admitted. “But I found the spare key-”
“-in the mail drawer by the sink,” he finished for me. “That’s like, level four snooping if you came across that.”
I didn’t answer, just pushed into the front door with Alex close on my heels. My heart was pounding. Harder than when we had bullets aimed in our direction. I’d never shown my work to anyone. Obviously. That my first reveal would be the one person I’d want to please most in the world...that scared the shit out of me.
He stood in the entrance way with me so I closed the door and walked in further since he was taking my lead.
I walked around to all the large windows in the living room and opened the curtains to let in the afternoon sunshine. Alex had been shuffling around behind me, picking up the remote, poking at some magazines, pulling in details he’d probably forgotten about but I sensed the moment he went absolutely still.
My opening the last curtain slowed down in response and I couldn’t bear to turn around and read his face. My fist tightened in the fabric and my pulse wreaked havoc on my system. He was still quiet. This was a terrible idea.
I sunk to my knees and stared out the window to the street Alex grew up on. A bike still leaned against a tree, all rusted and brown and forgotten. The leaves were still green and bright despite it being fall in the rest of the world. It was quiet, like a siesta quiet, like the neighbors were all just napping. On the outside, this street looked untouched.
Still no sound from Alex.
I leaned my chin on the window sill and let the sun warm my face. My stomach knotted, loosened, knotted again. If he didn’t like it, I knew I would never paint again. I never considered that a loved one may come across one of my works and hate it. How vain was I? Maybe seeing their images and tokens and snatches of life brushed across a canvas would just rip open old wounds. I thought I’d been helping but maybe it would make the lonely seem lonelier. The empty seem emptier. I would need to find something else meaningful to do with my time.
I felt him rip me away from the window. His hands were strong and firm on my arms. He stood me up and turned me to face him. Tears stained tracks down his cheeks.
His voice came out raspy. “I love you for this.”
And then his arms squeezed me and his tears wet my shoulder and I brought my hands up to run my fingers through his short, dark hair.
“Happy early birthday,” I whispered.
Chapter 39
Her
We didn’t go straight to Washington. Alex needed more juice. He had a store of it in Portland but he was nervous about going without for that long. We opted instead to make a pit stop in Oklahoma City. It would mean going the opposite way for a bit but truthfully, I loved the idea. Ever since Ike told me about the settlement, my skin tingled with the thought of living life among people again, but at the same time Alex had become very important to me. I was headed towards a crossroads and I wanted to fend off that intersection as long as possible.
We made love outside the Dr. Pepper museum in Waco. We had driven well into the night and we both needed to get off the road for a couple hours. Alex told me about the one and only soft drink he loved.
“The taste is so peppery sweet,” he said, flicking the hair around my ears. We were stretched out on the bed of a Ford F-150. We’d ditched the moving truck in a small town outside of Houston where the people were more trusting and keys to vehicles were in obvious places. Alex chose the truck because he hated sharing a van with the dogs.
“I get it. I love those three buffoons, but they’re doggie breath can kill,” he’d complained.
Right now Mowgli, Bagheera, and Baloo were stretched out around the truck on the ground, dusting their coats with dirt and nipping at grass.
Alex took a swig of the cold soda. Someone had hooked up a fridge of the stuff to a k-cell generator. Nothing else. Just the fridge. It was like Christmas for Alex.
“I used to drink one everyday,” he said. “After school in the main hallway. There was this soda machine and my friends and I would hang out there waiting for the bus. I felt normal.”
“You were normal.”
He pulled a face. “I was the weird vampy kid. Just, no one knew that except me and Kisa.”
“I would have liked Kisa.”
“You would have. And she would have liked you.”
“I’m sorry I’ll never have the chance to know her.”
Alex kissed me then, slow and soft. As he drew away, he smiled. “You did know her. In the way that you discover people. That picture-” he nodded towards the cab of the truck. “You saw things I’d forgotten.” He paused for a moment and his eyes got that faraway look that I knew so well. He was about to tell me something. “Kisa didn’t die in The Sweep.”
I raised my eyebrows. He didn’t talk much about his family’s death. I’d always just assumed the virus got them.
“She died in a car accident. While I was in med school. During the time when The Sweep first began and it was just vampires and vamps dying off. It was just an ordinary accident. I was so beside myself with grief. I had gone deeper undercover, contacting them only once a month
. One month when I called, my mom told me about it. She had to wait three weeks to let me know my twin sister died.” He shook his head. “I felt like the worst brother in the world.”
I rubbed his shoulder while he shared, hurting for him. The grief lightened from his eyes as he pulled himself from the memory. “In a way, I guess it was for the best. She didn’t have to see what became of this world. My mother’s death was a far more painful way to go. Like your dad’s.”
“Worst months of my life,” I stated.
“Yeah. Mine, too.”
And then he reached a hand around me, placing it on the small of my back and pulling me flush against him. He didn’t say anything else, just claimed me silently in the bed of the truck underneath the large Dr. Pepper Museum sign. Our clothing was discarded. He tasted me, bringing me to finish more than once and I tasted him, providing him with sweet torture.
“Okay,” he’d said breathlessly when I’d gone down for his turn. “We need to change course. I want to be inside you when I come.”
Afterward, we slept that way, naked under the stars. I had my head on his shoulder which reminded him to sleepily murmur promises to stamp it with a property of me tattoo.
In the morning he made campfire biscuits out of flour, sugar, and powdered milk that he brought back to life with some water. They were pretty gritty and had an overly starchy taste without butter but we hadn’t had time to scrounge up much else in our hasty getaway.
The Oklahoma City stash turned out to be a bust. We arrived in the city in good spirits. Alex had been there briefly on a Clearance mission and had hidden a stash in a Circle K gas station. He tended to do that. Hide stashes around in case he ever needed quick access.
However, he found it was raided. He came out of the station looking grim. I tried to smile and joke about his poor hiding talents but that didn’t shake the seriousness from his face.
“Where’s the next stash?” I asked. I didn’t mind taking another detour. Just the thought of a human settlement was enough to make me buoyant. I could put off actually arriving on that thought alone. Buy more time with Alex.
He pursed his lips. “The next closest is Portland.” He turned the ignition. “Tasha, we need to drive fast.”
Some of the playfulness left my voice. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“Three days ago. I haven’t eaten since before Vince and his crew showed up. I’m sorry. This stash has always been here. I check it every time I drive back through this way home. For years.” He cursed under his breath. “I was careless. We shouldn’t have stopped for the night.”
I gulped nervously. “How long can you go?”
He pulled onto the highway and accelerated, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He didn’t look at me when he answered. “Three days.”
Chapter 40
Her
He deteriorated quickly. Halfway to Portland, he couldn’t drive anymore. It was dark out and I hadn’t slept much either so I told him to pull into the first house that looked decent.
We chose an apartment in a small complex on the second floor a little ways outside of Salt Lake City. Alex staggered into the room and collapsed on the couch.
“You were fine a couple hours ago,” I said, removing his shoes. I did a quick inventory of the room and found a few candles and a box of matches. I lit them, sending a swirl of vanilla cinnamon scent through the air.
He closed his eyes slowly. “I’m sorry.”
He kept saying that. Kept apologizing. Those two words were starting to drive me mad.
“You didn’t know,” I bit out, more sharply than I intended. The need to alleviate his guilt was taking a toll on me. I was exhausted and hungry and increasingly irritable with how quiet and brooding he was becoming. I sighed. “I need to find food or we’ll both be useless,” I said, picking up my sack. “Wait here. I’ll be back.”
Alex nodded but didn’t open his eyes. I strode over to him and quickly kissed his forehead before heading out so he wouldn’t think I was truly angry. I just needed some space. The other apartments in the complex were bare of cans or anything else edible so I had to travel further than I liked to find something.
I finally found sustenance in the form of canned beets and Ramen noodle packets at a gas station several blocks away. I stuffed my bag with all that could fit so I wouldn’t have to make another run before we reached the colony.
My chest tightened when I thought about the colony. I still hadn’t been able to figure out how to see Alex after I’d arrived. We needed to work out some form of communication. Maybe after he got some more juice and he was less grumpy, we could brainstorm together.
When I arrived back at the apartment, Alex was sleeping. I let him be. I set to work heating up the Ramen over several candles pushed together to make a stronger source of heat. The water didn’t boil. The flames were too weak. My effort resulted in soggy noodles in salty, tepid water but I was starving so I slurped it down. I wasn’t up to eating lukewarm beats, so I left them in my pack for later when we had enough to time make a real fire.
Alex moaned as I spread the candles back out around the room to maximize the light they gave off. I frowned as I went to him and kneeled down.
His breathing was shallow and there were dark circles under his eyes. I felt his forehead but he had no fever.
“Alex,” I whispered. “It’s happening so fast.”
He coughed. “Blood depletion is a quick process. A vamp’s body uses every drop and then it just stops.” He groaned painfully. “We are natural hunters. We are alert until the end so we can have the strength to eat. So when the end comes, there’s not much time.”
“End?” I asked in a frightened voice. He didn’t respond, just laid there with his eyes closed.
“Just a few more moments to rest,” he murmured finally. “Then we’ll make it to Portland.”
I wasn’t stupid. I could see with each passing minute he was getting further from me.
He opened his eyes, squinting as if the low candle light in the apartment hurt them. A ragged sigh expelled from him slowly.
“Do you need water?” I asked worriedly.
He shook his head. “No.”
I pursed my lips. “You need blood.”
He shook his head slightly harder. “No.” His weak voice didn’t convince me.
Glaring at him, I began to roll up my sleeve but he lifted himself up and grabbed my forearm forcefully. The strength of that action surprised me and I could tell he was using most of his energy to make his point because his arm trembled as his eyes misted. It was absolutely heartbreaking.
“No,” he repeated before releasing me and collapsed back onto the blankets.
Well, he wasn’t the only stubborn ass in the room.
I yanked off my sweater and grabbed the army knife from the Stone house I still kept in my sack. I held it over my wrist and shot him a hard look.
“This blood is coming out of me either way. Whether or not you put it to use is up to you.”
“Damn it, Tasha!” Alex growled.
I sliced the knife into my skin, wincing at the pain. I didn’t go too deep, just enough to make a point.
Alex sat up and grabbed my arm again, but I kept a firm hold on the knife. My eyes didn’t leave his. “You’d do it for me,” I said softly but determination laced my voice. “Let me do it for you. Don’t die on me.”
He stared at me for what seemed like an eternity before his fangs lengthened over his lips. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry out as he bit down. It was excruciating pain. Every time he sucked in blood, I felt the sharp points of his teeth aggravate the sensitive wound.
I didn’t know how much he needed but after a couple of minutes, blackness started to enter my vision. I was feeling woozy. How much had he had? I struggled to stay conscious. I needed him to get enough to make it through this.
Against my will, my eyes closed and I slumped against his side. The pain stopped suddenly. I could feel his hand cradling my head.
I forced my eyes open even though my body was screaming at me to go to sleep. “I’m fine,” I slurred. “Are you…”
“It’s already helping,” he said. He used his sleeve to wipe the remnants of my blood off his lip and his fangs slipped back inside his mouth. He did look better. He had a deeper color in his cheeks and his eyes were brightened.
He slid off the couch and switched places with me, helping me onto the cushions.
He kissed my cheek, my forehead, my lips. They were nervous, fluttering kisses. “God, are you okay?” he asked, running his large hands over my shoulders.
I leaned back and sighed. “Did you get enough?”
“Shut up.” He sounded frustrated. “The truth. Please. How do you feel?”
“I’m just tired now.”
“Lack of blood,” he said quietly. “You sleep. I’m already feeling better.”
I smiled with my eyes closed. “I’m glad.”
“Well don’t be. We are not doing that again.” His voice sharpened. “An hour here to rest, and no more. Then we’re leaving. And if my stores are gone in Portland, you go on without me.”
“Okay. Whatever you say,” I agreed half-heartedly. I was too tired to argue.
“You hard-headed woman,” he muttered.
“You stubborn jackass,” I replied, yawning.
“I don’t even know how to thank you. What you just did.”
I smiled sleepily. “You just did.”
Chapter 41
Her
The ride to Portland was dramatically different from the ride to Oklahoma City. I slept through several hours of it in the back. When I was awake finally and in the front seat, Alex’s communication to me was clipped and given in as few words as possible. It was as if he spent the whole time I slept cursing himself over what happened in that apartment and then decided the best course of action was to be a silent asshole.