by J. J. Bonds
“The Bloodstone has some very interesting lore behind it,” she says thoughtfully.
I know what she’s driving at. I’ve researched it myself. Known as the Martyr’s Stone, there are those that believe the blood of Christ has fallen on the rock giving it healing properties. It’s also been used for blood purification, strength, and has come to symbolize justice. I don’t really believe in any of that though. To me it’s significant only because of the value Aldo has placed upon it.
“I don’t put much stock in magic,” I say firmly. “I prefer to put my confidence into science, into things that can be proven logically.”
“I see. Like our existence?” she challenges. “You prefer to focus on the biological explanations of our species as opposed to the mythical?”
“Shouldn’t I? I haven’t met anyone that can morph into a bat or disintegrate into smoke,” I reply flippantly chewing on my fingernails. It’s a dirty habit, but I don’t care at the moment.
“That’s for you to decide, Katia. Certainly science has explained much about the evolution of our species, and there are theories galore to cover that which hasn’t been proven. What about your… gift?” she asks.
“What about it?” I ask defensively dropping my hand from my mouth to grip the sturdy arms of the leather chair. Anya’s ability to get past my defenses is disconcerting. She has an uncanny knack for finding an opening and picking until she gets what she wants.
“How do you explain the exceptionally high number of gifted individuals in our species?” she asks innocently.
“Evolution. Humans only use ten percent of their brain. It’s natural that our brains would become more advanced over time, as we live longer and have more time to develop. It would be a tragedy if we weren’t more sophisticated mentally, just as we are physically. We’re faster, stronger, more resilient, and have better control of our bodies in every possible way. Why should mental capacity be any different?”
“That would certainly explain some things,” she says smoothly. “But what about psychic talents like yours? There are definitely some unknown factors at play there.” Anya stares at me, the challenge blatant. I break eye contact first and turn my eyes to the far side of the room.
As I study the accolades on the wall I try to think of a good reply, but she’s got me and she knows it. Not all gifts manifest themselves psychically, but there’s no doubt mine is beyond scientific explanation. Since I don’t have a rational response, I decide to go with irrational. I get up and walk out of the room, leaving Anya alone with her prying questions.
**********
I wake with a throbbing headache. The ground beneath me is cold and hard. Cement. My head is pounding. Can smoke do that? I crack my eyes and stare up at the ceiling. I can only see patches of the mottled paint through the smoke. It swirls around me, polluting my lungs and piercing my eyes. Smoke assaults me from all sides, blurring my vision, the acrid stench clinging to my clothes and hair. I roll to my left and grab the corner of a metal table. Using the leg for support, I drag myself into a sitting position and climb to my feet.
For the first time I notice the flames. They crackle all around me. The clinic is engulfed. But why am I inside? And where is everyone else? What the hell is going on? This isn’t right. I’m not supposed to be here. It’s not supposed to be me!
Panic stirs my gut, threatening to burst forth. The beginning of a scream makes its way through me, coiling up from my stomach and into my throat. If I don’t let it out, it will consume me. I imagine the fear ripping me to pieces from the inside out, leaving nothing but an unrecognizable and bloody mess. Not today. I slam my hand over my mouth, clamping it shut. I swallow my fear. I have to stay calm. I have to get out of here.
The overhead lights surge with power and short out. The bulbs explode, leaving a deluge of sparks to rain down on me. I smell singed hair and pat my sleeve where the fabric has burned through. Time is running out.
I stride across the room and slam my hands against the nearest window. The glass does not give under the force of my blow. I strike it again; this time with my fist. And again. Still, nothing. I am not meant to get out. I’m meant to burn as they did. As they always do in my nightmares.
In an act of desperation I grab a stool and smash it futilely against the unyielding glass. It clatters to the floor and is quickly swallowed by the flames. I fight the urge to cry. I will be strong. I will be brave. I watch the flames, as they creep across the floor, inching closer to me.
The room is getting unbearably hot. The soles of my shoes grow warm and the rubber begins to melt. I wonder if I too could melt. It beats the alternative of burning. It’s a fitting death I suppose. I’ve long suspected there’s a ring of hell for those like me.
As the flames take hold of my pant leg, searing nerve endings and destroying flesh, my brave façade crumbles. I fling myself against the window and pound on it with every ounce of strength I have left. I hardly recognize the deafening scream that reverberates through the night as my own.
I wake up screaming. My heart is pounding so hard I wonder if it will beat right out of my chest. I sit up slowly and look around, reminding myself that I am safe in my dorm and that nothing can touch me here.
“It’s just a dream. Get a grip,” I tell myself contemptuously. The feeling of helplessness, of fear, that comes with the nightmares is infuriating. But they’re so real. They’re always so real. I glance at the clock knowing I won’t get back to sleep tonight. It’s only twelve thirty. I didn’t get much rest. It’s going to be a long night and an even longer day tomorrow. I contemplate blood from the fridge but find I can’t stomach the thought of it right now. Instead, I grab my laptop and pull up the digital photo album stored on the hard drive. I know how I will spend the remainder of the night: remembering the past.
Chapter Seven
The next morning it’s all I can do to keep my head up in Anatomy. Professor Hooke is droning on and on about genetic makeup, and, even though it’s important, I can’t seem to stay awake. I’m exhausted. His lecture is going in one ear and out the other.
“Our genetic makeup is not so different from the human species, although we do have our differences,” Professor Hooke reminds us. “Much is known about both our species, although we certainly have the advantage of being more knowledgeable than the humans.”
I feel my eyes drooping and jerk upright in my seat. For the love of God, will this class never end?
“Humans endure a life of constant aging, physical ailments, and disease. We are virtually impervious to all of these things. Who did the reading last night? In layman’s terms, I’d like a volunteer to summarize the assignment.”
I feel his hand settle on my shoulder, as he steps up behind me. “Katia.”
Hell’s bells! Hooke has a funny take on volunteerism. I’m drawing a blank. What is he talking about? I rack my brain and still come up empty. The other girls may think he’s sexy as hell with his penetrating brown eyes, muscular physique, and English accent, but right now all I see is a sadist bent on humiliating inattentive students.
“With the onset of puberty and the thirst, vampires experience a dramatic slowing in age. There is no scientific name for the phenomenon. It’s as natural as birth for a vampire,” interrupts Shaye. “It’s the exact opposite of Werner’s Syndrome in a human. In the afflicted human there is a rapid progression of age whereby the life span is dramatically shorter than average. For a vampire the aging process is so slow that we’ve managed to appear immortal to the human world. Most of our own live so long that death becomes a conscious choice instead of an inevitable demise.”
“Miss Walker. If I want you to answer, I’ll call on you. I was speaking to Miss Lescinka,” Hooke reprimands her sternly.
“Sorry, Professor. It’s just so fascinating. I couldn’t help myself. It won’t happen again,” Shaye apologizes with mock contrition, throwing me a wink when Hooke turns around.
“Thanks,” I mouth silently. I knew I liked this girl.
> “Longevity is a blessing and a curse for some,” Hooke continues, picking up where Shaye left off.
“I’d never choose death,” calls out a boy in the back. I don’t bother looking to see who it is. I’m too tired to care.
“You say that now, but what might you say in a thousand years? Or even two?” inquires Hooke. “Once, there were only three ways for a vampire to die. Beheading, destroying the heart, and the sun. Now we have four.”
“The blood disease!” It’s the boy in the back again. There’s not a student in the room who doesn’t know this, so it grates on my nerves that he shouts it out like an epiphany.
“Well then, let’s don’t forget how important it is to burn the remains,” I mutter under my breath. A few people around me snicker, and I draw a harsh look from Professor Hooke. I duck my head and decide it’s best to keep my mouth shut for the remainder of the class. I’m on thin ice already.
When we’re finally dismissed I find myself walking side by side with Shaye. Today she’s wearing black leggings and a green fatigue jacket. I’m starting to think she does all of her shopping at thrift stores. What I can’t figure out is if it’s self-expression or rebellion that drives her fashion choices. Either way, they’re pretty outrageous.
“You look like hell,” she says.
“It’s that obvious, huh?” I don’t bother trying to stifle a yawn. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. Better double up on the O-neg at lunch. It’ll get me through the afternoon at least.” It’s my favorite blood type. Just the thought of it is enough to make my stomach rumble.
“I haven’t seen you out at the stables lately. Did you talk to Keegan about those lessons?”
“Not yet. I’ve been a little busy with school. I’d still like to ask him about it though. I really do want to learn. Maybe I’ll try to get down there this weekend.”
“I’d wait until next week if I were you. The staff’s pretty busy getting ready for the big night,” she replies wistfully.
“Ah, the big Halloween bash.” What is with everyone around here? It’s just a stupid dance.
“Yeah. It’s a pretty big deal since most of us don’t get out much,” Shaye replies, rolling her eyes. “It’s totally fun, but people go a little crazy. Seriously. You’ll see.”
“So, you’ll be going?” I ask, curious. Shaye seems to be as much of an outcast as I am. Why would she bother?
“You sound surprised. Why wouldn’t I go?”
“Oh, let me count the reasons. Or not,” I finish rudely, stopping to adjust the strap on my bag.
“Listen, I know you’re skeptical, but trust me. It’s out of this world. You should check it out,” she says. “Maybe I’ll see you there?”
“I’ll think about it.” We both laugh. She knows as well as I do that I’m not even going to consider it.
**********
Halloween arrives and brings with it the deep chill of fall in New England. Having spent most of the day practicing in the training center, I find myself in a rush to get changed and catch the bus to Holloway Farm. The cold doesn’t bother me, but I need to dress for the weather anyway. It’s part of the trick to blending in with the humans. Best not to attract unnecessary attention by showing up in short sleeves when it’s freezing outside.
I strip off my sweat pants and grab a pair of tattered jeans, a heavy cotton sweater and my knee high boots. I top off the outfit with a black leather jacket that zips up the front and glance in the mirror. Only Lissette would choose such a girly jacket for me. I can’t deny that it’s stylish, but with ruffles running down the front, it’s not something I would have picked out myself. I don’t bother to brush my hair since I’m running late. I wipe a few errant strands from my forehead, tucking them neatly behind my ear, and decide that it will have to do for now.
I’m the last one to arrive at the bus, and Jade makes no effort to hide her irritation, complaining loudly.
“Who does she think she is to keep us waiting?” she whines indignantly.
“I know, right?” chimes in Lexie. “Some of us have big plans for this evening. The sooner we get this hoedown over with, the sooner we can get back and party!” They break into a fit of giggles. Their laughter is no less offensive than a pack of hyenas and further validates my disinterest in attending the Masquerade.
I ignore them and scan the bus for empty seats. There aren’t any empty rows. I’ll have to find someone to sit with. I’m relieved when I see Shaye waiving from the back.
“Saved you a spot!” she calls, patting the empty seat next to her.
I hurry down the aisle, pleased that Shaye thought of me. If I have to make small talk with someone, Shaye would definitely be my first choice.
“Thanks,” I tell her appreciatively, as I slide into the empty seat.
“It’s whatever,” she says, waving me off. “No big deal. Kind of figured you might need a friendly face.”
“What gave it away? The welcome committee up front?” I snort. While the interest in my lineage has died down, Jade never misses any opportunity to make her dislike of me known. I pretend she doesn’t exist most of the time. I find it’s the best way to keep my temper in check.
“Please! You should have heard what she said about the guy before you!” Shaye laughs. “As if anyone really cares what she thinks. She’s a hideous beast.”
“You think?” I mutter. Actually, I was thinking she looks a lot like a big slutty Barbie, but maybe that goes without saying.
We sit quietly for a moment. I’m not sure what to say, but Shaye eventually breaks the silence. It’s clear her social skills are better than my own. At least we won’t have to talk awkwardly about the weather.
“So, how are you at puzzles?”
“Puzzles? Okay, I guess. Why?” I ask, confused by her question.
“Come on, Katia. Surely you know what this trip is about? Holloway Farm? Moonlight Madness? Largest corn maze in Vermont?” She stares at me dubiously. Apparently she can’t believe I’m this clueless. “It’s epic,” she moans.
“And?”
“And getting through the maze first without cheating is a big deal! Since it’s your first time we’ll do it together,” she says decidedly.
I can’t fault her for being excited. There was a time when I would have loved this kind of challenge. Now, it’s just the sort of thing that’s there to fill my time.
“Alright. Lay it on me. How does it work?” I ask begrudgingly. If I have to participate, I want to know the rules.
“They’ll break us into groups and stagger the starting times. Each group goes into the maze, and the clock doesn’t stop until you emerge on the other side. It’s simple as long as you have a half decent sense of direction. The winner will be recognized tonight at the Masquerade. The prize is different every year, but it’s usually something quirky. The students like it for the notoriety. It’s mostly about bragging rights. Nikolai won last year.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I ask, shaking my head.
“He’s got really good instincts,” Shaye replies, ignoring my sarcasm. “I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t win again.”
“It’s good to know you have such confidence in our abilities,” I tease her.
We sit quietly for the remainder of the ride. I can’t speak for Shaye, but I find the silence comfortable amidst the bustle of our peers talking and carrying on. I guess it’s safe to say that Shaye is growing on me.
**********
We file off the bus and stand around in clusters waiting for Professor Lynch and the other chaperones to break us into groups. The younger vamps, the ones who don’t have regular off campus privileges, have to stay with the chaperones in case they get thirsty and are tempted to break the rules. Older students like Shaye and me will be free to roam as we please.
I’m disturbed to learn that Shaye forgot to mention the maze covers twelve acres of fields. This might not be quite as easy as she made it sound. The corn stalks tower over us, and I begin to understand the attraction f
or humans. They love to be scared on Halloween, especially in a controlled environment like this where there’s no real danger. We hear squeals of delight and terror, as one rambunctious group after another enters the maze, flashlights in hand.
Professor Lynch herds us into the maze with a half dozen or so of our classmates. Shaye and I quickly pocket our flashlights. The moon shines brightly on the maze tonight, not that it matters much. We’d be able to see the path regardless.
“It’s best not to stay with the group,” Shaye advises in a hushed tone as we approach the first fork in the maze.
“You’re the expert,” I return, stepping aside so that she can take the lead. It’s uncomfortable following, but I’m no fool. I’ve never done this before, and I don’t always have the best sense of direction when it comes to things like this. Besides, I’m hoping she has a strategy.
We stay left as the rest of our group goes right. It seems intuitive to go right, and I wonder if we’re making a mistake already. I have to remind myself that I’ve agreed to let Shaye lead.
“Just be sure to stay alert,” she instructs me. “If we hit a dead end, we’ll have to back track, and that’s when it’s easy to get turned around.”
“I think you mean lost.”
“Semantics,” she giggles, smiling at me over her shoulder.
“Hell’s bells. This could be a long night,” I joke, rolling my eyes. The gesture is wasted on Shaye, who’s already returned her attention to scouting the path ahead. Her enthusiasm is infectious and I find myself getting swept up in the excitement despite my best efforts to remain cool and detached.
We walk for about fifteen minutes before hitting our first dead end, which I think is pretty good although I have no basis for comparison. The silence between us is good. It allows us to focus on our surroundings, making it easy to retrace our steps when we do hit a dead end. We are not alone in the maze and occasionally pass other groups, some human, and some vampire. We seem to be making good time, but I’m a little unnerved as the maze has gotten eerily quiet around us. I hear the shouts and screams in the distance, but it all seems so far away now. Perhaps it’s a trick of the maze. I’ve certainly never spent any time on a farm and have no idea what to expect.