Young Blood: The Nightbreed Saga: Book 1

by Phillip Tomasso²

  “You can make us dinner, then we can discuss if you’re going out,” he said.

  She fingered the gold pendant from her grandmother that she wore around her neck. It sometimes gave her courage. That was silly of course, she never really knew her grandmother, but she still touched it now and then when she needed an extra push of strength.

  He didn’t make the rules, but thought he did. Living here a year, and he thought he was more than her mother’s boyfriend, he acted like he was her father. She did her best to pretend she’d listened to everything said, and then did whatever she wanted. It just made everything easier as long as no one found out.

  Like now, she saw no point arguing. He wasn’t rational when he was sober and was simply stupid when drunk. It was how he always pushed her that frayed her nerves. It was the mental pushing that sometimes prevented her from keeping quiet. “I don’t have time to make you dinner, and I am going out with my friends. And you might not like this, Ollie,” he hated being called Ollie, “but you’re a loaf. You think my mother doesn’t realize she’s working doubles every night so you can sit around on her couch and in her house like a fat freeloading loaf? It’s coming, Ollie. Your end here is near.”

  The door banged open.

  She slipped out the window.

  “Get back in here, Madison!”

  He sounded pissed. Maybe she’d gone too far this time. She took off across the roof, but walked more carefully on the awning over the patio. She always pictured the aluminum cracking and her falling through, getting stuck at the waist. She lowered herself onto the grill and jumped the remaining few feet.

  She could hear Ollie tromping around, banging cupboard doors and swearing. He was too lazy to come out and chase her. Instead, he stayed inside calling Madison and her mother’s names. If she ever told her mother everything, Ollie would be gone for sure. The only thing that stopped her was interfering with her mother’s alleged happiness.

  Opening the wooden gate on the side of the house, Madison walked to the front, down the driveway, and onto the sidewalk.

  She’d forgotten a jacket. No, she didn’t forget one. She’d been forced to leave without one. She blamed her mother for this. There was no reason her mother couldn’t date men, but why did she have to move them into the house? Ollie wasn’t the first guy they’ve had live with them since the divorce, and probably wouldn’t be the last. Hopefully wouldn’t be the last.

  Her father never moved in any of his girlfriends. In the ten years they’d been divorced, he had only introduced her to two different women. She knew, of course, that he’d had plenty of other girlfriends. Somehow he understood that not all of them needed to be included in his daughter’s life.

  She crossed her arms. It was nearly seven and was getting darker earlier every night. In early October, any sign of summer was gone. Most of the leaves were still green, still on tree branches, but many had yellowed and were turning orange and red. In another week they would completely change color and drop. Piles would accumulate on lawns and in the streets, a clear premonition of snow to follow.

  Autumn was her favorite time of year. She loved the smell of wood burning in fireplaces and the curling gray smoke that rose into the sky from chimneys. Winter was two months away, but judging by the chill in the air, it was anxious to take hold of its seasonal reign.

  She sent Neal a text, Bring a hoodie 4 me?

  Madison knew she’d have to stay out past eleven. She wasn’t coming back until she was sure her mother was home from work or was positive Ollie had passed out drunk.

  Neal’s powder blue minivan came around the corner. She heard music through the rolled up windows. She smiled and waved as he brought the vehicle to a stop alongside her.

  “Climb aboard, madam,” he said. With a name like Neal Eckard most people expected a blond-haired German, not a skinny black kid, unless they knew Neal was adopted. He kept his hair close shaved and wore glasses with black frames.

  Madison sat in the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt, and then turned down the volume on the radio. “You’re going to go deaf if you keep listening to music that loud.”

  “What?” he said.

  She laughed.

  “Yes, mom,” he said.

  Chapter 2

  Madison’s eyelids fluttered. Above her was blurred light and moving shapes.

  “She’s coming to,” someone said.

  Mom. She thought it, or said it. She wasn’t sure. Her body felt like it was on fire. Her throat was dry. It was difficult to swallow, and she couldn’t move her head.

  “She’s awake,” someone said. Dad? “Doctor? Doctor, she’s opening her eyes. I think she’s waking up.”

  She was so thirsty. Her tongue felt so swollen she thought it had ballooned to fill her mouth.

  “Hey, baby.” Mom.

  “We’re getting the doctor, honey. Hold on. It’s okay.” Dad.

  “Go, hurry him up.” Mom.

  She closed her eyes. She heard a pipe organ and saw an angry clown. There was thunder and lightning.

  Forcing her eyes open, she thought she might scream.

  Or had screamed.

  She needed water, something to wet her lips.

  Pressure seemed to continually build inside her brain. It felt as if her brain was growing from it. She worried her skull would shatter.

  “Doctor?” Dad.

  The clouded vision didn’t clear. Every time she blinked, her eyes opened less and less, as if her eyelids were weighted down. She didn’t want to close her eyes. She didn’t trust the nightmare waiting for her.

  Every time she closed her eyes she saw images like a movie reel run on the back of her lids.

  The mall parking lot was transformed into a carnival midway. Red, white and blue lights oscillated up and down the legs of the Ferris wheel, and more ran in a circle around the wheel’s edges. Game and food tents were lined up across from each other.

  Brightly lit signs advertised popcorn, cold drinks and pretzels, cotton candy, french fries and fried dough. The sweet smells hung amid vendors as if daring marks to walk by and not salivate. Giant stuffed animals, teen heartthrob posters, and framed mirror art were displayed as potential prizes used to draw attention to tents that boasted games like tip the cat, balloon darts, and fishbowl toss.

  Disparate music from the different rides blared from speakers. There was heavy metal, rock, classical, and country songs all playing at the same time. People let out fearful screams, burst of relieved laughter, and random shouts. The sounds didn’t mesh. It didn’t matter. Little competed against the barkers.

  “Want me to guess your weight, your age, or the month you were born? If I’m wrong, you can win–”

  “You look like you have some skill with a basketball. Make just two baskets out of three tries–”

  “Race the ponies against your friends. Roll the ball into the holes to move your horse. Winner every time, friends. Winner every–”

  She felt fingers on her eyeballs as her eyelids were parted. A brilliant beam of light played over her them.

  “They are dilating nicely,” a man said. It was not her father’s voice.

  The light disappeared. She tried to stay awake, alert. She wanted to hear what was going on.

  She knew she must be in a hospital. Madison couldn’t recall much of anything. She had no idea what had happened. The dreams that overtook her when her eyes closed could be real, memories. They might hold answers.

  “Are you okay, honey?” her father said. She could just make out the shape of his head. His face was close to hers. She couldn’t see features clearly; in fact, he was so close he blocked most of the light in the room.

  She smelled urine and antiseptic.

  The first thing she wanted to say was that she was okay. She didn’t know if she was or not. Madison just didn’t want her father to worry.

  Her eyes rolled and closed.

  “We should ride the Ali Baba,” Madison said. The ride resembled a pendulum. The horizontal gondo
la sat eight across, four deep. Its gondola swung back and forth, building momentum until eventually it rotated a full three-hundred and sixty degrees.

  “It’s freezing out.” Neal hugged himself and shivered.

  “I say we ride it!” Katie slapped his arm. She had thick, wavy blond hair, chocolate brown eyes, and big breasts she loved to flaunt. Her full lips were accented with bright red lipstick. She wore tight jeans and boots with a small heel.

  “Two against one,” Madison said.

  “You’ve got to be so cold,” Neal said.

  “If you would have brought me a hoodie,” she said.

  “I didn’t see your text until you were in the car,” he said. “Do you want to wear my coat?”

  “You’d give her your coat?” Katie said.

  Neal took off a glove with his teeth, and lowered the coat’s zipper.

  “I’m fine,” Madison said. “But thank you.”

  “You can wear it. I think my fever’s gotten worse. I’m sweating,” he said.

  Madison hooked an arm through his. “Keep it on. If I start to freeze, then I’ll let you give me your coat.”

  “Or we can go home,” he said.

  “We’re not going home,” Katie said, and hooked her arm through Neal’s other arm. “Why would you want to leave? You’ve got to the two hottest girls in town with you.”

  They approached side-by-side kiosk booths where carnies sat behind glass windows. A square sign read: Buy Wristbands Here, and under it, another that read: Tickets.

  “I got this,” Madison said. She slid money under the glass. “Three tickets for the Ali Baba, please.”

  “It’s four tickets per person for the ride,” the woman behind the glass said.

  “Okay,” Madison said.

  “So you want twelve tickets?”

  “If that’s what we need to ride the Ali Baba.”

  “Would you like a packet of twenty,” the woman said. “It’s a better value for the price.”

  “Sure, why not,” she said, and took the tickets.

  “I’ve never been on this before,” Neal said.

  “You’re not going to get sick on us, are you?” Katie said. “Because I’ll sit on the other side of Maddy.”

  “My stomach has been a bit–”

  “He’ll be fine,” Madison said, and ran ahead. “Come on, guys. There’s no line!”

  “That’s because it’s freezing out,” Neal said.

  “Twelve tickets.” Madison handed the tickets to the ride operator, a too thin man with dark tattoos over otherwise pasty skin. He wore a horseshoe nose ring, making him look like an anorexic bull.

  “Sit wherever you’d like,” he said, staring at Madison.

  She felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold running down her spine. She walked through the thigh-high gate, anxious to get away from the carny.

  Madison took a seat between her friends in the center of the ride, middle row. “That guy just gave me the creeps.”

  “Worse than Ollie?” Katie said.

  “A bit, yeah,” she said.

  “Raise your arms,” the carny said.

  They did.

  A safety bar lowered over their waists.

  Madison wrapped her hands on the bar. “This is going to be fun.”

  “That’s funny,” Neal said.

  “What is?”

  “I was just going to say, this can’t be safe.”

  Katie knocked shoulders with Neal. “Sure it is. Relax, and enjoy the ride.”

  “You see that guy Maddy handed our tickets to?”

  Katie and Madison nodded.

  “He put this ride together. I’m sure the other people who travel with the carnival helped.” Neal pointed to the fat man sitting on a metal folding chair by the Ferris wheel. His red t-shirt attempted, but failed, to cover an ample and hairy belly. Facial hair and acne fought to cover most of the skin on his face. Teeth didn’t need to compete for gum space, and the lit end of a dangling cigarette looked dangerously close to nicotine stained fingers. If he were half-awake, he might prevent a nasty burn. “How safe do you feel now?”

  The girls sat quiet for a moment.

  There was a loud exhaling hiss of hydraulics as the pendulum began to swing. First left, then right.

  “I’m not liking this. I’m not liking this.”

  Madison laughed.

  Katie had her arms in the air.

  It started raining.

  “They going to stop the ride if it starts lightning? If I see lightning, I’m telling them to stop the ride,” Neal said.

  Madison grabbed onto one of Neal’s hands.

  He looked at her.

  She smiled. “Relax.”

  He acted like a pregnant woman in labor, huffing out short, shallow breaths.

  Madison gave his hand a little squeeze as the gondola reached the top, hesitated, and then completed the rotation. Her stomach dropped, and she screamed. The ride whipped ‘round and ‘round like hands on a time warp clock. Madison felt like she was flying. She knew she continued to scream. Excitement and fear filled each eruption.

  Nothing beat being out with friends.

  She felt wild and free.

  “There she is, there’s my girl,” her father said.

  “I’m thirsty,” Madison said. Her hand touched her neckline. “Where’s my pendant? I lost my pendant.”

  “I have it. It’s here. The doctors in emergency took it off when they brought you in. It’s safe,” her father said. “I can get you some ice chips. Here, let me do this first.” He dipped a small sponge on a toothpick into water and moistened her lips. “How’s this?”

  It was a tease. She opened her mouth wider, wanting more. “How fat is my tongue?”

  “What, honey?”

  She lifted a hand to her mouth, stuck her tongue out, and pinched the tip between her fingers. “My tongue,” she said.

  Her father laughed. “I can’t understand you.”

  She dropped her arm down. “My tongue feels swollen.”

  “I’ll get you those ice chips. No, you know what?” He reached for a tethered remote and depressed the red button to call a nurse to the room.

  “Can you lift me up a little?” Madison said.

  Her father stood up and used controls on the bed rail. A machine clunked and whined as the head of the mattress rose. “How’s that?”

  “It’s perfect,” she said. She looked around. It was a small private room. The lights were dim. It didn’t hide the flower bouquets, fruit baskets, and cookie grams. There were cards on the heat register by the window where sea-foam curtains were pulled open.

  It was dark outside. She could see the moon in a black sky. She squinted and turned away.

  “Do you remember anything?”

  She shook her head. Her neck felt funny. Itchy. She touched her hands to bandages around her throat. “What’s this?”

  “You were attacked,” he said. “Honey? Honey?”

  Neal fisted kettle corn into his mouth. “Okay, that ride was great. I thought I was going to puke–”

  “You looked like you were going to puke,” Katie said, and reached for kettle corn out of Neal’s bag. She popped it into her mouth. “This right here, this is delicious.”

  “You’re shivering,” Neal said.

  “I’m fine. What do we hit next?” Madison said. She wanted to hug herself and rub her arm; her skin had turned pink, and felt like it was being poked with pins, but then her friends would worry. “I thought I saw a fun house.”

  “I have no idea why they call them that. There’s nothing fun about them. They’re filled with devils and monsters and horrific and murderous scenes. How is that fun? Who would enjoy something like that?”

  Katie held up her hand. “I’m in.”

  Madison laughed. “Ditto.”

  Neal rocked his head from side to side. “Fine. Fine. But don’t think I’ve forgotten about the Coke you owe me.”

  “I’m not seeing one, though,” Kat
ie said. She looked left and right. “Are they closing up?”

  Madison pulled out her phone. “It’s not even eight.”

  “But it’s cold, and it looks like it’s going to rain,” Neal said.

  “They don’t shut a carnival down because it looks like rain,” Katie said, taking more kettle corn.

  Neal said, “But look at the midway, it’s thinned out. Bet they’re not making much money.”

  “Well, I’m getting us tickets for the funhouse,” Madison said. It was a walk-through, indoor ride. She craved the warmth. Her teeth chattered. She bit down to stop it.

  Armed with tickets and directions, the three made their way to the back of the midway. Across from the funhouse were the spinning teacups. The ride ran with no one on it. The music played for no one to hear. There was no operator by the entrance gate. Madison found that odd.

  “That looks scary,” Neal said.

  “That’s a baby’s ride,” Katie said.

  “Not the teacups.” Neal pointed. “That.”

  The funhouse was called The Devil’s Lair. It was lit with nothing but red light bulbs, which gave the area an ominous glow. Organ music was piped out of speakers on stands. The entrance, under the sign, The Devil’s Lair, was a clown’s face. Its mouth was open wide. Its teeth were sharp and jagged.

  “We have to walk into its mouth?” Neal said.

  Katie squealed. “I love getting scared.”

  “Did you know watching a ninety minute horror movie burns off one hundred and thirteen calories?” Neal said.

  “You calling me fat?” Katie said.

  He held up his hands. “No, no! I just meant, I was just giving, I was stating a fact. Something I’d read online.”

  A guy with dark grey tattoos up both arms and creeping up from his chest to cover his neck, was the operator. His arms were thick and muscular, and his hair red and unwashed. He held out his hand. “Tickets. It’s scary in there. Want me to go with you?”

  Madison walked past him without a comment, but looked back to make sure Katie and Neal were still behind her. “Guy was a creep,” she said.