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by Glenn Rolfe


  He shoved the door open, grateful to find another empty room. His gaze landed on his father’s crate of records sitting atop the bureau. He was tempted to walk in and pick them up. Go through them. Sit with them. Instead, he bowed his head and shut off the light.

  Walking toward his room, he thought the place felt too quiet. He suddenly wished he’d turned the TV on, even if just for background noise.

  He stopped at the bathroom door and gave it a knock. “Julie?”

  She didn’t answer, but there was no way he was opening it and looking in on her.

  His bedroom door was open just a crack. He went in. The summer breeze was making his half-open shade dance. The window behind it was wide open.

  I left that open, he thought, uncertain whether it was true or not.

  The light coming in from the streetlights outside gave him a good look around.

  No beasties or bloodthirsty fiends in here.

  It wasn’t until he flicked his light on that he saw the note on his bed.

  His legs were like two wet noodles trying to hold up an air conditioner. Wobbly and sick to his stomach, Rocky stepped to the bed and gazed down upon the white lined paper. There was a message written in blood.

  Want to see your mother and sister again?

  Meet us at 2 a.m.

  Beneath the two lines was a crude drawing of the Ferris wheel.

  He looked at the alarm clock by his bed. It was only 9:02.

  He dropped to his knees and swatted the bloody note to the floor.

  It was his fault. All of it. They’d all be alive and well if he hadn’t fallen head over heels for November. All because he fell in love with a monster.

  His eyes welled up with tears. He was ready to throw himself to the lions. He deserved it. He’d gotten his uncle and his father killed. Now, Mom and Julie were next if they weren’t dead already.

  No.

  They were all right, but probably not for long.

  Climbing to his feet, he pulled out his holy jackknife.

  Uncle Arthur’s Blade of the Gods, he thought.

  He wanted this to be like a movie. He wanted the steel blade to glow with the power of the Lord, but it didn’t. Still, it felt good and right in his hand.

  “You can’t fight him alone.”

  Rocky jumped, dropping the knife as he spun to find November standing in the doorway dressed in the Twisted Sister t-shirt he’d first seen her in and a pair of ripped jeans. Her black hair was drawn back in a ponytail. He’d never hated her beauty so much in his life. He was angry with himself for being attracted to her even now.

  It was probably some vampire trick, a spell. She’d said they weren’t like the creatures depicted in movies. She never said they didn’t have some of their powers. He’d seen her fly, for god’s sake.

  He bit back the urge to cast her out again; he might actually need her.

  “He’s got them,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “Did you help him? Tell me the truth.”

  “No, but if you want them back, you’re going to have to let me help you stop him.”

  “How do you propose we do that?”

  “I told you, we’re not like the movie monsters. We can….” She looked away, fidgeting with her fingernails. “We can kill him.”

  “You’d do that? You’d kill your brother?”

  “I told you what he is. I told you what he’s become. He killed my mother right in front of me. I won’t let him do that to you or to anyone else.”

  He believed her. He saw it in her eyes. There was a simmering sadness and rage working inside her, just like it was inside him.

  November stepped toward him.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Rocky. You’re thinking this is because of us. Because of what we did. Because we fell in love.”

  Maybe she could read minds, too.

  “It’s not,” she said. “This all happened because Gabriel is sick.”

  “You mean like your mother?”

  “No. He’s in the grip of this thing, this…addiction. A vampire can’t indulge in human blood day after day. It increases our abilities, but that sensation, that draw can also become too strong to escape. The cravings can become all we think about. The high is so good, it very quickly becomes far more powerful than anything else in our lives.”

  “So, it’s like, a drug…but you said it boosts your powers?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But if he’s been doing this since you guys got here, he must be like the Incredible Hulk by now. How the heck are we supposed to stop him?”

  “We do it together.”

  She reached out and took his hand.

  “I know you hate me,” she said. “But what we had was real. And I wouldn’t take back a minute of it.”

  He pulled his hand from hers.

  He didn’t know how it was possible, but he wanted her. He wanted to kiss her here and now. But he wouldn’t allow it. Not after everything.

  “He left me a note. I don’t know where he took them, but the note said to meet him at the Ferris wheel tonight at two a.m.”

  “That makes sense,” she said. “He’s been out in the daylight. He probably wants to rest up. The Ferris wheel fits his style too. He’s always had a flair for theatrics.”

  “You don’t know where he might have taken them?”

  “No,” she said. “He’s been gone every night since we got here. Now we know what he’s been doing, but I don’t know where he’s been putting the bodies.”

  Rocky threw his hands up. “Well, what the hell are we supposed to do for four hours? Just wait?”

  “We rest.”

  “Are you kidding me? Rest? While he’s got my mom and Julie, doing who knows what to them?”

  “Yes.”

  He was flabbergasted, pacing around the room.

  “He won’t kill them, he wants you.”

  “How do you know?” he asked.

  “Look, we don’t know where he is, but he’ll be at Palace Playland when he said he would. We’re going to need all our strength to take him on.”

  He hated the thought of just sitting here while they were out there somewhere, but he really didn’t have a clue where to find them. He just hoped they were okay.

  “Okay, we rest,” he said.

  He didn’t think he’d be able to, but after lying on his bed for half an hour the weight of this entire summer crashed down on him. All the rage, the sorrow, the betrayal, the anxiety. His eyes grew heavy, and he closed them.

  He was shocked when November shook him awake.

  “It’s time,” she said.

  * * *

  They were on their way toward the square. Glancing at all the buildings, he’d never been out this late at night, long after all the hellraisers on Harleys or cruising in muscle cars had gone home for the night. Even the hotels, motels, and crappy little roadside inns were quiet. It was calm, and he did not trust it.

  “We’re not immortal,” November said, breaking the silence. “We die just like you, but Gabriel is riding a storm that I don’t think he can handle.”

  “What do you mean?” Rocky asked.

  “When we’re in control, I mean, like, total control, we can stay looking like this, looking normal.”

  “What do you look like when you’re not normal?”

  “It’s…it’s ugly. I hate it,” she said. “But right now, Gabriel is not in control. This bloodlust has done something to him. I saw it when he had my mother, he kept changing back and forth. And a few nights ago, he couldn’t even turn back to normal. Something’s wrong. I’m hoping whatever it is, it gives us a shot at him.”

  “We have to make it work,” Rocky said.

  “We will.”

  They stopped when the darkened Ferris wheel wit
hin the gates of Palace Playland came into view. Its outline in the moonlit sky sent a chill down Rocky’s spine.

  As they got closer, he could make out two shapes in a bucket at the tippy-top.

  He pointed.

  “I see them,” she said. “But I don’t see my brother.”

  “I don’t think I can get to them,” Rocky said. His stomach was doing somersaults. The mere thought of—

  “You might have to climb up there,” November said.

  His body went numb when he imagined making the ascent.

  “You can’t fight Gabriel one on one,” she said. “He’ll kill you, but I can maybe at least keep him distracted while you get them free.”

  “There’s got to be another way.”

  “If we can get in there without Gabriel jumping us, we’ll look for the controls and see if we can get the machine to operate.”

  “Oh god, I hope so.”

  They reached the gate to the amusement park.

  “Here we go,” November said.

  “Victory or death,” Rocky muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “It’s locked,” he said, tugging at the chain on the amusement park’s fence.

  “Let me,” November said.

  Rocky stepped back in awe as she grasped the lock and broke it off in her hand.

  She tossed it to the side and let the chain slip free. Rocky flinched at the sound of the heavy metal links clinking to the tar like the intestines of a Transformer spilling to the ground.

  November turned to him. “He already knows we’re here.”

  “Yeah, but maybe we can at least get inside before we alert him to our exact position.”

  “Come on,” she said.

  Rocky pulled the holy knife from his pocket and flicked it open. He imagined it glowing again and wondered what would happen if he touched November’s arm with it.

  He reached out and placed the blade up to her skin.

  “Hey,” she said, pulling her arm away. “What are you doing?”

  “Did it burn?” he asked.

  “Did it burn? What? No. Why, what’d you do, bless it or something?”

  Rocky felt like an idiot.

  “Something like that, yeah,” he said.

  “Well,” she said, holding her arm up to show him there was no damage. “I told you, this isn’t a movie. Now, come on.”

  He scanned the closed vendor booth, waiting for Gabriel to attack at any moment.

  When they reached the base of the Ferris wheel, Rocky gulped, following its metal jungle gym of arms all the way up. His skin felt too hot, too tight.

  “Over there,” November said, pointing to the control podium.

  “They haven’t even tried to call out,” Rocky said. “Do you think they’re still…alive?”

  She hesitated. “I’m not going to lie. He probably hurt them. They might be bound or gagged, but I don’t think he’d have killed them without….”

  “Without what?”

  She looked him in the eyes and said, “Without you watching.”

  He glanced back up. If that monster had hurt them….

  “Let me see,” he said, charging past her and walking around to the side of the podium with the controls. His heart dropped. The wires leading into the control board were hanging out and shredded.

  “Shit,” he said.

  “If it isn’t my two favourite lovebirds.” Gabriel’s voice came from a distance somewhere behind them.

  November grabbed Rocky’s forearm. “Look at me,” she said, a fierceness in her eyes that made him focus solely upon her.

  “You need to get up there and free them. There should be handles to climb in the middle. Get up there—”

  Rocky chewed his lip, turning to gaze up at the height of the damn thing.

  “Look at me. Listen.”

  He did.

  “We’re not going to get any second chances. You have to do this.”

  “Wha-what about you?”

  “I’ll try to keep my brother busy.”

  “He’ll kill you. You said he’s been feeding for weeks.”

  “We don’t have any other choice.”

  “What if….”

  An idea came to him.

  “What if you drank some of my blood?”

  “No. For one, I don’t know that I could stop.”

  He gulped.

  “Plus, if I did there’s no way you’d get to them. You’d be too weak.”

  “I’m going to have to suck it up,” he said.

  She nodded. “You better go.”

  “Yeah,” he said.

  Gabriel still hadn’t shown himself.

  Rocky slinked away into the shadows, staying low to the ground as he moved toward the edge of the Ferris wheel.

  * * *

  She strode to the open space between the Ferris wheel and the vendor booths.

  “Gabriel, you don’t need to do this,” November said. “Let’s just leave. We can go home. No one will ever find us.”

  He snickered from somewhere to her left, deeper into the park.

  She tried to see him but couldn’t.

  “I’m the one you’re angry with,” she continued. “Rocky didn’t do anything.”

  “So romantic,” Gabriel hissed from the shadows. “So pathetic.”

  He stepped from the centre of the carrousel, winding his way around the painted horses and stroking each as he passed until he reached the edge.

  “You should have listened,” he said.

  “I should have listened?” she said. “What about you? You ignored everything our father taught us. You betrayed every oath, every rule he set to keep us safe.”

  His vampiric face was on full display.

  She could see the rage settling in. She was getting to him.

  “Little sister, you don’t have a clue,” he said. “Do you know why our father died? Do you know how weak he was when he passed?”

  “I know he died a good man.”

  “You know nothing,” Gabriel seethed.

  “He was a kind and gentle man. You’re…you’re a monster.”

  He stopped ten feet from her and laughed. Cold, reptilian laughter. “Finally you understand. You’re already smarter than either of our parents. This,” he said, moving closer still, “is what we are. Dark, glorious creatures so powerful, and without equal.”

  November saw the madness in his dark eyes. Total and unchangeable.

  What small amount of hope she’d held inside for him was snuffed out.

  This night could only end one way.

  She flew at him.

  * * *

  Rocky discovered the twin metal A-frames, one on either side of the ride that peaked at the giant wheel’s centre. Service ladders climbed up the side of each frame. The real anxiety waited at the top of this ladder where the steps discontinued.

  He inhaled the cooling night air between his teeth, listening to the gentle crashing of waves from the ocean just on the other side of the fence and across the sand, the heartbeat of the sea.

  It’s now or never, he thought. Victory or death.

  He began his ascent, and was nearly at the top when he heard the battle cry from below.

  He hoped November lasted long enough for him to help.

  Rocky was halfway up when a wave of nausea rolled in. He closed his eyes, clinging to the rungs, and waited for the awful feeling to pass. He thought of his mother and sister, of November putting herself in harm’s way standing up to her murderous brother. The least he could do was climb.

  He urged himself forward, taking it one step at a time, not looking down, not looking anywhere but to the next one.

&nbs
p; All was well until he reached the end of the ladder. His resolve fell to pieces when he realised he’d have to climb the fifteen feet to the bucket holding his mother and sister.

  Just move, he told himself. Just get it over with.

  He reached up and his fingers slipped.

  He saw himself falling to his death; cold sweat broke through his pores as he regained his balance and reached around the ride’s metal arms, trembling and clutching on for dear life.

  “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he murmured.

  “Hello?”

  “J- J-Julie?” he said.

  “Rocky? Oh my god, Rocky. Where…where are you?”

  “Ah…I’m below you.”

  “It got you too?”

  “No, I’m re-re-rescuing you.”

  “What?”

  “Is Mom okay?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. He took her someplace else. My hands and feet are tied.”

  “What do you mean Mom’s not up there? I, I thought I saw someone next to you?”

  “It’s a cop, but he’s…he’s dead. Oh god, Rocky please get me out of here.”

  Officer Nelson. It had to be. He’d told him about Gabriel and now he’d gotten him killed, too.

  He had to get himself together. What’s done was done. He could add it to the pile of guilt trying to crush him later. If he didn’t move now, he and Julie were both going to die up here.

  “Are you injured?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. And he heard her start to cry.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “That thing…it…it touched me.”

  Rocky gripped the rungs, this time with anger instead of fear.

  “Did he…did he….”

  “I can still feel its hands on me.”

  “Listen to me, Julie. I’m coming up. I have a knife with me. I’m going to cut you free and then we’re going to have to climb down.”

  “What?”

  He wished he was half as confident as he was trying to sound.

  “Once we get down the arm under the basket, there’s a ladder built into the frame. The workers use it to climb when they have to fix parts, or like, if it gets stuck, like now.”

  He could hear her getting hysterical.

  “Julie, I’m coming.”

  Victory or death. Victory or death. He repeated the mantra in his head as he loosened up enough to move.

 

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