Someone loomed very close to her. Shifting her gaze, she stared up in awe at the strangest eyes. Golden honey mixed with orange flames. The pupils narrowed like a cats, his face pale, like there was no blood in him at all. His lips were pale as well. A strong jaw and high cheekbones structured his hard, calculating face; his Roman nose crafted as fine as the statue of David. His hair gleamed a pure white. As alien as he looked, the attraction was instantaneous. Scanning the other men in the room, she couldn’t see their eyes, but they too had the same white hair and skin.
“You in there?” The man spoke in a hard voice. He had a small contact case in his hand. Snapping the case shut he shoved it into one of his pockets.
She didn’t answer, transfixed by his eyes. Glowing with an inner light they probed her, searching for something. She should have been afraid, but he was too handsome to be scared of.
“Hey. Anybody home?”
Still she didn’t speak.
His gaze traveled over her face taking in every inch. He drank her in. His pupils relaxed, becoming rounder and softer.
“I don’t think this one came all the way back, Aron,” he said to the man on the floor.
The man who had been scanning the dead doctor walked over to her bed. He peered into her eyes, looked at her hands, her arms, and then picked the sheet up, inspecting her legs. Quickly he unbuckled the restraints on her ankles. When he began to pull up her hospital gown she’d had enough. Planting her foot in the middle of his chest, she thrust forward and caused him to stumble over the body and fall to his knees. Her weak legs felt a bit stiff, but her aim was good.
The man who had put the lenses in her eyes let out a small growl and crouched as if anticipating he might be next. She lay her leg on the bed and didn’t make a move against him.
“I could be wrong though.”
“Yeah, I’d say so, Luca.” Aron coughed and gasped for air, finally getting up from his knees. “We really should learn some manners. I think we should have started with the fact that we’re here to help you. But I guess we’re a little too late for that.”
She blinked mutely. He was young, maybe twenty or twenty-one.
“This has to be weird for you.” He gestured toward her. “You can hear and see and smell more than you ever have before. You’re chained to a bed and can’t even remember your own name. But we’re here to get you out.”
Shorter and thinner than Luca, Aron had white skin, orange eyes, and white, spiky hair. He smiled at her. She tried to wrap her mind around his words. Maybe they belonged to some kind of new cult.
Hurried footsteps sounded in the hallway, not even trying to disguise the fact that they were coming. All eyes in the room shifted to the door.
“Victor,” Luca yelled to the man on the phone. Victor stopped talking.
“Five of them, coming up the stairwell. Heavily armed.” Victor’s voice was low. Luca locked eyes with him, and Victor gave a slight nod.
“Where the hell did they come from?” Aron asked. Both he and Luca looked at the two bodies on the floor at the same time.
But there weren’t two bodies lying on the floor. One of the lab coats crawled on his belly toward the corner of the room, a cell phone in his hand.
“Aron, get her out of here,” ordered Luca.
“Luca—”
“There’s no time, you have to get her out of here. Now!” Luca’s eyes had gone back to slits.
“You don’t know me,” Aron spoke to her again, “but right now we don’t have time and you just have to trust me. OK?” Aron turned. “Luca wait—”
She glanced over and heard a crack and a pop as Luca twisted the neck of the doctor with the cell phone. When Luca turned around she’d never seen anything more deadly. His eyes burned, but the rest of his face was as blank as if he had killed a bug on the wall. Desire coursed through her at the sight of him. She felt her cheeks flush at the thought and she turned her gaze from him.
“Did you have to kill him? We could have used him for information.” Aron let out a sigh of frustration.
Luca said nothing, pushing the body out of the way.
Aron released her wrists from their leather imprisonments. They were red and raw. She hadn’t realized how much the pressure of the cuffs had bothered her until they were off. How long had she been here? Aron slid her legs out of bed and pulled some pants on her in one fluid movement. Her legs wobbled, like old, warped tires on a bicycle. He pulled a shirt out of a black bag on the floor.
“Can you get that on?” he asked.
She stared at him, unblinking.
“Fine, have it your way.” He reached to untie her hospital gown, but she shoved him away.
“Good.” He forced the shirt into her hand.
With a small attempt at modesty, she spun toward the corner, whipped off the gown, and pulled on the long-sleeve black shirt. The smooth feel of the weave caressed her bare skin. She pulled the large shirt down over her stomach, noticing for the first time that her skin was white as milk. Had she always been this pale? Her neck prickled, and she glanced up to see Luca, his eyes like fire, staring at her now covered breasts. He looked away.
Whomever was on his way had come out of the stairwell. Their pace quickened.
Luca was at her side in an instant. Taking her by the arm, he dragged her toward the open door. “Aron. Out. Now.” He yelled in her ear, making her shrink away from the booming sound.
Aron put the last few things into his bag. The guy sitting at the computer tossed Aron a jump drive.
“Get ready,” Luca said to the young guy at the computer.
“Already on it boss.” He began to set up what looked like a small explosive device on the PC.
Victor turned, as if Luca had called to him, though Luca hadn’t made a sound. Victor nodded and closed his eyes.
Aron grabbed her by the arm. “Sorry, sister, time to go.”
The next thing she knew she was being dragged down the hall. Five men burst through a set of double doors. Victor stepped out of the doorway and thrust his hands in front of him. A large, clear arc of energy burst forth from his body and plowed into the men, knocking them to the ground. The energy burst dissipated and spread out, disappearing behind them. She opened her mouth in silent surprise. Luca exploded from the room, rushing the stunned men.
Aron pulled her around a corner and through a squeaky swinging door. They ran past carts of old medical supplies, dusty gurneys, and empty hospital rooms. The lights flickered, and she wondered if Victor was drawing on some of their electrical energy for power. Everything blurred together as Aron forced her forward. Scents filled her nostrils: old urine, musty linens, metal, and lemon floor wax. The lingering smells coated her tongue and made her head spin. Aron banged through an emergency door straight into a narrow stairwell. Her legs buckled, and she wrenched her arm free in time to catch herself before she hit the cold cement floor.
“We have to keep moving.” Aron crouched in front of her. “I know you’ve just rebirthed, and you haven’t fed yet, but you need to get up.”
What the heck was he talking about? Aron pulled her to her feet and dragged her up the stairs. Suddenly dizzy, her vision blurred; her skin was slick with sweat. She stumbled, almost falling backward down the stairs. Her stomach gave a lurch. Maybe something to eat wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Whoa…easy. You don’t want to do that. Fixing a broken bone is not a fun process for us.” Aron reached out to steady her.
Us? What us? Her mind whirled.
Moonlight streamed in from a metal-covered window high on the wall.
“We’re almost there.” His voice was encouraging, his urgency to get outside palpable. They had nearly reached the door when she heard people waiting on the other side. She hadn’t been able to hear them before over the sound of her own panting.
Aron pushed open the door, and the brisk night air slapped her in the face.
“Wait!” she screamed, too late.
Two large men waited for them. The first
one grabbed Aron by the shirt, pulled him through, and flung him to the ground. Aron’s messenger bag flew across the blacktop of the broken-up parking lot and skidded to a stop a few feet away. A second arm reached in and grabbed her by the waist, pinning her to the outer wall of the building quicker than she could react.
The wind knocked out of her chest. She gasped for air as the large man pinned her in place. In the cold, clear night, moisture from the side of the cement building seeped through her shirt, causing her to chill. Everything around her sharpened in focus; all her senses were on fire. She heard crickets chirping over the sound of Aron and his assailant grappling on the ground. Bright stars dotted the skyline over the shoulder of the man holding her. They twinkled and sparkled with a clarity she had never noticed before. She knew she should be frightened by the situation, but her brain fired too fast to for her to catch it all.
Aron crouched low, and the man he fought circled, trying to find a way to end their standoff. Aron’s skin prickled and snapped with little darts of energy. The sparks gave him a slightly blue glow.
A man appeared out of a large sedan. He had something in his hand. Her eyes focused easily, though he was over thirty feet away. An eight-inch-long glass tube with metal at both ends. With the cap off, the needle glistened in the moonlight. If she didn’t do something fast, that needle was going to find its way into her body—she knew it.
Her mind shot into overdrive, and she felt an urgency to get away. She twisted and churned underneath the large man’s now increasing grip. He groaned and pressed into her harder.
The man yelled over his shoulder. “Hurry up! She’s comin’ alive.” The syringe started to jog a bit faster. Pinching the man’s chest with her right hand she made him wince enough to get her left arm free. Reaching up she found the nearest exposed pieces of his skin, his face and neck. To her surprise her nails made a deeper wound than she would have thought possible. He howled in pain and struck her across the face. Her head rocked into the wall, her lip splitting open on one side. She shook her head to clear the daze, then the smell hit her. Something sweet and tangy, rich and moist. Her stomach roared.
The man smelled better than a hamburger and fries, shake and apple pie all mixed into one. When she opened her eyes, she found that her vision focused a hundred times clearer than before. She felt the crevasses in the concrete blocks pressing into her skin, heard the static of Aron’s skin. But the smell overpowered her. She locked eyes on the man who had hit her, now a few steps away, holding his neck.
Hunger overcame her, and she became blind to everything else. Blind to the syringe, blind to Aron, blind to the stars, consumed with the need for food. In one quick movement she was on him. The force of her body knocked him to the ground, her mouth latched onto his exposed neck. Biting, ripping, tearing. It was soft and tender in her mouth like a perfectly prepared steak tartar. Butter melting on warm toast. She bit harder, his screams barely pierced through the veil of hunger. The sounds stabbed her eardrums and reverberated in her head, but didn’t matter. He tried in vain to push her off of him. She was so hungry. Her body woke up from its weary slumber as sustenance flowed from her stomach to her legs, arms, fingers and toes. A feeling she had never experienced before.
Her vision lit on the man with the syringe. He was only a step away. “Get Away!” The man flew through the air and hit the ground hard next to his car. Her brain flooded with hunger again and she lowered her mouth to the awaiting neck. Strong hands ripped her away.
Luca pulled her close to his chest. Screaming, she kicked and struggled. The touch of his body tingled and electrified her. A look of surprise crossed his face, and he pushed her away from the physical contact. Letting his hands slack for a moment was all it took. Completely out of control and in want for more sustenance she lunged forward, grabbed his arm and ripped into his flesh. She had just torn into him when she heard Luca scream, into her head.
“Stop!”
His words were meaningless chatter. At the same time she noticed that his arm tasted different. There was no smell, no flavor, nothing—like eating tofu. One second later a blast of energy rammed her, knocking her down. She lay on the ground dazed and confused. Victor stood in the stairwell doorway, holding up the barely conscious computer kid with one arm. He had blasted her. Luca cradled his mangled forearm to his chest a foot away. Aron, who had finished the fight with his assailant, ran toward Luca. Luca stared at her silently, his eyes ablaze with fury.
The dead man she had been feeding on lay at Luca’s feet. She could smell him, the richness of him wearing off like leftovers.
“No!”
Luca stepped forward and glared at her. She growled. He narrowed his eyes, growling back. Letting go of his injured arm he crouched in the same defensive stance she had seen Aron assume.
She tried to move forward, but heard him in her head again.
“Stop it! He won’t taste the same now anyway. Don’t try.”
Her gaze drifted to the body but she didn’t move. Her body craved the dead food on the ground. She stared at the blazing orange eyes of the beautiful Luca standing between her and the dead man. Minutes passed and neither backed down; he watched her like a living statue. An owl hooted in the distance, a breeze blew past her face.
“We’ve got to get out of here, Luca,” Victor called from the driver’s side of the SUV. “More will show up when no one reports in.”
Luca nodded, but kept his eyes trained on her.
Finally Aron broke the stand-off. “I need to take care of that arm, Luca.”
She went limp, falling onto the ground. What was she? Her head buzzed, her body tingled and pulsed with an energy not her own. She stared at the stars again, trying to process everything around her. The vividness of their light dancing in the sky enthralled her. Luca could speak in her mind. Victor and Aron had some kind of electric abilities. What the hell was going on?
Victor grabbed her by the arms and pulled her over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes, and dumped her into the large black vehicle.
The car smelled of piña colada air freshener and raw meat. The computer guy lay behind her, his coloring very blue. Peering out the window she saw the man she had killed. She hadn’t meant to, but something had taken over, a hunger she had been unable to control. An all-consuming need for food.
The front passenger door opened and Aron hopped in. The radio played hard rock music she didn’t recognize. Cool air whistled through the vents. Dashboard lights blared into the night.
Luca slid into the seat next to her, his arm now wrapped in gauze; anger radiated off of him in waves. She quickly turned to stare out of her window, but the dead man lay gaping at her. She felt trapped between the two of them.
Her hyper eyesight began to dim; the stars weren’t as bright as they had been.
“What am I?” She whispered to no one in particular.
Luca looked over at her. Victor put the SUV into gear and they pulled out onto a road as cracked and broken as the parking lot. They bumped along for several minutes when Aron finally answered her.
“You are reanimated dead human tissue. Your physical body is dead, but your spirit lives on inside. Your tissues have reanimated due to a virus of sorts.”
She didn’t understand a word he said. “Huh?”
“You died.” Luca stared ahead. “Someone brought you back.”
“I died?” She tried to comprehend the words. “I died, and someone brought me back?”
“Yes.”
“So I’m alive?”
“No.”
Not helpful. “But how? And why?”
“That’s exactly what we want to know.” He stared ahead again.
“So I was dead, and now I am back, but not alive. I’m something else.”
“Yes.”
“Is that what you all are?”
“Yes.”
“So…what do you consider yourself then?”
Luca’s eyes met hers. “A Deader.”
Chapter Three
* * *
She sat, nervously waiting to audition for the school’s High Excellence Choir, the Nevada State Champion singing group. Tristan Atwater stood on stage singing “If I Loved You.” He would have been great, but for the fact he couldn’t sing. Didn’t matter though. Tristan was so popular that everyone cheered and hooted for him anyway. He looked around as though he were trying to spot someone, hopped down from the stage, jogged up the aisle and out the theater entrance.
She was up.
After she finished, bowing to a stunned and silent crowd, she walked out into the hallway from the auditorium. Tristan lounged on the floor bouncing a ball against the wall. His russet-colored curly hair had fallen into his eyes. Beach-tanned vacation skin, a warm golden glow beneath. She gave him a weak smile and hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder as she walked by.
“So, you think I’ll get in?” He bounced the ball in front of her, making her stop short.
She pulled her hair out of her face. “Well, maybe if they have a non-singing part.” She tried to hide a smile.
He stood staring at her for a minute and then burst out laughing. “Yeah, you’re right. But you’re fantastic. You’ll definitely get in.”
“You heard me, from out here?”
“I snuck back in to see you.”
“There’s lots of great girls in there.”
“Not to me.”
She felt herself flush and let her hair fall so he couldn’t see her go two shades deeper pink.
“Sorry, where are my manners. I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Tristan Atwater.” He walked forward to shake her hand.
She brushed her hair aside and looked him in the eyes. “Evaine Michaels.”
“I know.” He laughed. “You’re the reason that I tried out today.”
Dead Awakenings Page 2