K: The Awakening (The Shadow Chronicles Book 1)

by K. R. Fajardo

  “All right then. Follow me and lock the door.”

  The two of them descended back into the clinic and into the lobby. Dirik unlocked the door, but before stepping outside he turned, grabbed her, and embraced her in hug. “You and your father are the world to me, I just wanted you to know, in case one day I can’t tell you.” He then released her as rapidly as he grabbed her and was halfway down the street before she had a chance to react. The suddenness and sincerity of the embrace had taken her off guard as she stood in shock, watching him as he disappeared down the street. And for the first time in over a week a smile crept to her face as she returned inside and locked the door.

  To help pass the day, Citera decided to do some much needed cleaning in the clinic. With her father’s condition and her complete focus on his care, the clinic and the apartment had fallen into quite a disheveled state. She swept both floors, did the dishes, dusted the lobby area, and threw a couple of loads of clothes into the wash, all the while continuing to check in on her father every hour or two. By the time Dirik returned home around late afternoon, she had managed to get the place back into some resemblance of what it used to look like.

  Once back, Dirik helped Citera finish up a few odds and ends before the two of them settled down for a very quiet dinner in the lobby of the clinic, neither of them wanting to bring up the embrace from earlier that morning. After dinner they made their way back to Mikel’s room where Citera began to mix together the herbs for the paste while Dirik sat in a corner and watched her studiously.

  “Have you done this before?”

  “No, but I have watched Janil make it a million times. She used this stuff to treat almost anything that came through the door, from something as small as a minor cut to major infections that risked the limb being lost.”

  Dumping the last herb into her mortar, Citera worked diligently to grind the ingredients together until she had at last reached the texture she was looking for. Lifting the bowel up to her nose, she gently waved the smell of the mixture toward her. It gave off a strong, pungent odor that left a bitter taste in her mouth. Confident she had the right combination, she turned to Dirik and asked, “Would you help me?”

  “Of course,” he answered, jumping off the stool.

  The pair went to work unwrapping Mikel’s head so they could get a better look at the wound. Unfortunately, it showed no signs of healing whatsoever and looked exactly the same as it did the day they found him. With a disappointed sigh, she went to work. “Let’s give it a shot,” she said as she took a small amount of the paste and rubbed it into the edges of the laceration; taking great care to cover every inch of the opening. After it was completely coated to her satisfaction, the pair covered and bandaged the wound to hold everything in place.

  Rigar stormed into the room just as they were finishing up. “I thought I asked the two of you to keep the front door locked,” he snapped, then catching sight of them finishing up with Mikel he added, “What are you doing?”

  “Sorry, I must have left it open when I got back from the market,” Dirik jumped in, taking the blame. Citera turned her head to hide her grin. Dirik hadn’t left the door unlocked and they both knew it. Grateful for his kindness, and thinking of his earlier words, Citera found herself flushing as she finished taping the last of the wrapping in place. Thankfully the two of them were oblivious to her embarrassment and continued with their conversation. “Citera made some medicine for Mikel and we just finished applying some to the gash on his head.”

  Rigar looked at the freshly wrapped dressing. “Your turning into quite a good doctor, young lady, and your father would be very proud.”

  Citera smiled at him as she covered the rest of the paste and placed it in the cabinet. “Just doing what needs to be done.”

  “Now you really sound like your father,” Rigar said chuckling. After taking a moment to settle himself, he added, “Well, I think I found a place to stash the girl. It will be tricky getting her out of town, but it’s away from the road site and it’s far enough out that it should be a long time before anyone finds her again.”

  “That’s great,” Dirik said excitedly, turning to Citera. “Now we can be rid of her for good.”

  Citera was suddenly hit by a wave of mixed emotions.

  “What’s wrong, Citera?” Rigar asked. He knew her well enough to know when something was troubling her.

  “I can’t help but feel this is the wrong thing to do, it’s not what Dad would want and both of you know that. Heck, if he knew we had left her restrained in that room for this long without care, much less formula, he would go berserk.”

  Rigar was taken aback by the sudden abruptness in which she spoke, but remained sympathetic. “Citera, she attacked your father and left him in a coma. What would you have me do?”

  Citera turned to look at her dad over her shoulder. “It’s just … well, I can’t get over the feeling that she might be able to help him, and I’m scared that without her, we will never know how to wake him up.”

  Rigar sighed as he turned his attention to his close friend, lying unmoving in the bed. “Child, he hit his head, and then she drained him of what little blood he had left. There is nothing she or any of us can do to help him. He will either heal or he won’t, we just have to wait and see.” He walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. “But what we can do is ensure that you and Dirik are safe by getting her out of here.”

  Citera sighed as well, allowing her shoulders to sag. There was no point in arguing with him, his stubbornness was one of his best and worst traits. “I know, but this whole thing has me second guessing what is right and what is wrong.”

  “Then let me handle it. Tomorrow evening me and Dirik will load her into the cart and I will hide her somewhere no one will find her for a very long time. I would do it tonight, but I can feel a storm coming and it is already late.”

  She nodded slightly in agreement, but something deep in her conscious was telling her this was all wrong.

  “Me and Dirik will go and gather the things we will need. All I will need for you to do is tell me which drug I should use to knock her out for the trip there. But you can do that tomorrow. Come on, Dirik, let’s go and give her some space.”

  Once they had both left the room and left her alone, she found herself not thinking about helping Rigar, but instead found her mind wandering back into the room with K again. She knew she should hate her for what she did to her father, but she didn’t. Everything about this felt wrong; she needed to talk to K one more time and tonight would be her last chance before Rigar hauled her away to who knows where.

  As she sat there thinking, she reached over and picked up her father’s hand like so many times before, but this wasn’t like the other times, this time instead of the comforting warmth she had grown used to, her touch was greeted by the feel of clammy, ice-cold skin. Panicked, she screamed as she grabbed her father’s wrist desperately searching for a pulse, “Rigar! Rigar! Come here, hurry please.” To her relief she felt a pulse, though it was much weaker and slower than before.

  Rigar came running back into the room with Dirik close behind him. “What happened?”

  Gasping between the tears, Citera was finally able to form the words. “He’s cold … his skin is cold to touch … I-I think his pulse is getting weak. What do I do?”

  Rigar’s face was solemn as he approached the bed and lifted one of Mikel’s wrists. She watched as he closed his eyes for a moment, and when he reopened there was a sad look to his expression that was undeniable. “Citera—”

  “No,” she yelled, cutting him off, “don’t you say it, he’s going to be fine. He is strong, he is a fighter, and he will make it through this. I will not be left alone. I won’t, do you hear me?” she cried. Grabbing ahold of her father’s shoulders, she began shaking him roughly. “Dad, I know you hear me, come back, I need you, please.”

  “Citera, listen to me.” Rigar comforted, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder, “you’ve done your best, he is just too weak.
”

  Angrily, she turned on him. “You may want to give up on him, but I’m not.” And with that she turned and stormed toward the door only to have Dirik step in, blocking her path. “You get out of my way, it’s not like he’s your father, what do you care.” She regretted saying it instantly, especially after seeing the hurt on Dirik’s face, but she didn’t have time to be nice or for apologies as she pushed her way past him.

  She rounded the corner and headed straight for K’s door, Rigar right on her heels. “Where do you think you are going?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  “I’m going to talk with K, maybe she can tell me how to save him.”

  A sharp pain radiated down her arm as he grabbed her and spun her around. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me,” she answered, eyes on the floor avoiding his intimidating gaze. He was squeezing her arm hard, but she refused to cry out and admit that he was hurting her.

  “You have been in there and you talked to her?” His voice was strangely calm, but his grip on her arm had not eased. “What did you tell her?”

  “I didn’t tell her anything, and all she told me was her name.” Citera mumbled, “And I have the feeling that wasn’t even true.”

  He knelt down in front of her, lifting her head with his free hand. “So why go back in? If you think she would lie to you about something as simple as a name, why talk to her again?”

  Tears were rolling down her cheek as she met his gaze. “Because I need to know I tried everything I could to save him. How could I possibly go on if I allowed him to die, when the one person who could have helped him was laying in the room only a few doors down?”

  Rigar stared into her determined eyes, and seeing the pain she was struggling with, he slowly released her arm. “Fine, but I’m coming in with you.”

  Hesitating outside the door, Citera took a deep breath, turned the knob, and stepped inside. The room was eerily silent as she walked carefully toward the bed, this time on the side of K where she could be seen. K’s eyes were closed as she slowly moved closer, but when she was only a few steps from the bed, her uninjured eye shot open, and looked in her direction. Rigar instinctively reached out to pull her away, but she put up her hand signaling to him that she was all right.

  “You came back,” K said in the same hauntingly calm tone from the night before, then looking in Rigar’s direction added, “and you’ve brought your friend.”

  Citera quickly changed the subject; she didn’t want to anger K, but she didn’t have time for this small talk. “K, I need to ask you some—”

  However, before she could get started K quickly cut her off, “Your father isn’t doing well, I know. He has held on longer than I thought, much longer than most Terrians would have. You should be quite proud of him, he is very strong.”

  Rigar, infuriated by the callousness of the words, stampeded toward the bed, only to be stopped by Citera. “It’s all right,” she said, before turning back to K. “Please, is there anything I can do to save him? He is all I have left and I will do anything. Just tell me, I beg of you.”

  K, not even bothering to acknowledge anything she had said, continued to speak, “Take this thing off my head and sit me up.”

  Citera looked to Rigar, who was already shaking his head. “Citera, this isn’t a good idea.”

  But she was desperate and K knew it. Knowing she would most likely never get any answers from her unless she gave her something in return, Citera relented. “I will take the brace off your head and sit you up, but we are not taking the restraints off your arms and legs.”

  K’s lips curled up at the sides. “That was all I asked.”

  Slowly Citera walked to the head of the bed and removed the brace holding K’s head in place. Relieved by the newfound freedom, K twisted her neck and arched her back in an effort to relieve some of the stiffness she had acquired over the nearly two weeks of confinement.

  Citera then turned to Rigar. “Help me.”

  Reluctantly he walked to the other side of the bed, and the two of them grabbed ahold of the handles on either side and raised the head of it to a sitting position. The sudden movement must have caused K a considerable amount of discomfort, and though she tried to conceal it from the two of them, it was more than apparent as every muscle in her body tensed and she let out a small groan. But she quickly adjusted to the new position, and the two of them watched as she stretched and moved in the bed as much as the remaining restraints would allow.

  “Please, K, tell me what I need to do.”

  An eerie silence filled the room. She could tell K was thinking, contemplating on whether or not to tell her what she wanted to know. Finally, after a moment of silence, K turned seriously to Citera. “What are you willing to do to save him? Would you risk your own life to bring him back?”

  “Yes.” Citera answered confidently and without hesitation.

  “Citera—” Rigar started, only to be cut off by K.

  “You can’t help him child.”

  “But you said—”

  Citera was beside herself, but again K interrupted, “You can’t help him, but I can. However it will require a decision and sacrifice on your part and it needs to be done quickly, his time is running out and I fear mine is as well.”

  “Whatever you want,” Citera replied, hope beaming on her face.

  Rigar, however, was not so inclined to listen. “No, Citera. I don’t like this, she is luring you into something.”

  Deep down Citera knew he was right, but she had no other choice, she had to at least hear what K had to offer. “Tell me.”

  “Your father is a good man and that is the only reason I even give you this as an option. When I bit your father, it wasn’t to feed on him or to kill him,” K said, glaring at Rigar, “it was to stop his impending death. Right now he is suspended between the world of the living and that of the dead. I did this because he helped me, he risked his life to protect me from those that came and for that I owe him. Unfortunately he was not able to make the decision on whether or not to complete the process himself, so it is up to you to make it on his behalf. If you want him to live, then it can be done, but it would require that he be changed,” K paused, studying the two of them closely, “he would have to become a Full-blood.”

  “That’s impossible,” Citera yelled angrily, clenching her fists at her sides. “Rigar was right, you are playing games with me. You have no intentions of helping me, do you?”

  “Oh I assure you I don’t play games and I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  Rigar, suddenly interested in what K had to say, joined in, “How … how would you do it?” Citera quieted and looked at her guardian confused. Did he know something that she didn’t?

  “They truly have brainwashed the entire lot of you, haven’t they? Do none of you remember what you are and what you are capable of?” But seeing the confused expressions on their faces, she rolled her eye and continued, “When I bit him I gave him my virus, poison, venom, curse, whatever you want to call it, but until the process is finished it only puts him into limbo, eventually it will wear off and he will die. That is where the sacrifice on your part comes in. In order for me to finish the job, I need to feed, and I don’t mean that blue crap in a bottle.”

  Citera and Rigar were left with mouths gaping. This was a lot of information to take in at once. Could a Full-blood really turn a Terrian into another Full-blood? And even if it was possible, there was the issue of blood feeding being highly illegal. If they were caught, everyone in the clinic would be put to death for participating in the ancient practice.

  “Give us a moment,” Rigar said, motioning for Citera to follow him as he stepped into the hallway.

  She followed obediently, her movements almost mechanical. “Do you believe she can do it?” she asked as soon as the door closed behind them. “Or do you think she is trying to trick me into healing her?”

  For the first time in all her years, Citera saw Rigar was at a loss. “I don’t kno
w, I really don’t. But the question I have for you is this, if she can, do you think this is what your father would want? To live out the rest of his life as a Full-blood, risking prosecution, the labor camps, and having to be dependent on formula. Is that the kind of life he would want for himself?”

  She had already considered everything he was asking her. “Maybe not, and I may be selfish, but I don’t care. I need him Rigar, and I’m not ready for him to leave me, so if there is even a chance that this is possible, then I have to take it.”

  Rigar and Citera were both so wrapped up in their conversation that they neither one of them noticed Dirik coming up the hallway until a sudden loud crash caused Citera to jump into Rigar’s arms clutching her heart. Together they spun around to see Dirik standing as still as a statue and as white as a ghost, staring blankly past them. At his feet was a metal tray with all the items that had been once been on it scattered across the floor.

  “Dirik, you scared me!” Citera scolded her friend. “What is wrong with you, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

  As she spoke, Citera and Rigar both turned around to see what he was looking at. Panic struck as they realized that they were not alone in the clinic. In the darkness of the hallway they could make out two tall figures standing quietly at the other end. Rigar grabbed Citera by the arm and pulled her behind him without saying a word as they continued to stare down the intruders. One of the intruders none of them had ever seen before; he was a tall, well-built man wearing a dark gray coat with a hood pulled over his head, shielding his face. But even he waned in comparison to the man standing beside him dressed entirely in black, a man they all unfortunately recognized.

  “I need to speak to your father, girl,” the Enforcer ordered, his deep voice echoing in the emptiness of the hall. “I believe he is expecting me.”

  Chapter 8

  Uninvited Guests

  As she stared blankly into those horrid black eyes, Citera desperately tried to rationalize how, in less than a month, their luck had taken such an awful turn. Her father was lying in one room unconscious and barely clinging to life, in the other was the woman responsible for his condition, offering to turn her father into a Full-blood, and now, for the second time in less than a month, they were being paid a visit by the Enforcer. This made no sense; it was night time, raids were never done at night.