by Bera, Ilia
Next to Connor’s hospital bed was a small bag with all of his things—his wallet, some change and his phone. His phone was lit up with a message. Connor slowly rolled onto his side and reached for the plastic bag. A sharp pain surged through his body and lingered in his fresh cut—a reminder of just how bad his wound was. After a moment of pain, Connor managed to get his fingers on the edge of the bag. He pulled it closer to him, and then grabbed it, rolling back onto his backside. He opened the bag and pulled out his phone.
The message was from Hanna: “Text me when you get this,” the message read.
Connor quickly replied to the message. “Hey. Are you okay?”
It didn’t take more than ten seconds for Hanna to reply. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better, but I’ll be okay.”
“I miss you,” Hanna wrote.
“I miss you too,” Connor replied. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”
A warm sensation of relief fell over Connor as he let himself sink back down into his hospital bed.
Bzzz!
Hanna sent another message. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you… I didn’t mean to hurt you.” she wrote.
Connor thought about it for a moment. “I don’t care about that. I just want to be with you,” Connor replied.
“I just want to be with you too,” Hanna wrote.
Connor couldn’t fight the big goofy love-struck smile from his face.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWO
FOLLOW YOUR HEART
“Just this way,” Ava said to Michael as she led him towards the hospital room of Connor’s mother, Charlotte Knight. They stopped at the door and Ava knocked gently. “Mrs. Knight,” Ava said.
“Come in!”
Ava gently pushed the door open. “I have a visitor here to see you,” she said.
Charlotte’s hospital bed was propped upright, and Charlotte was sitting with a smile on her face. The television was turned off, as was the radio.
Ava scanned the room. “Is your TV broken?” Ava asked.
“No, no. I just don’t feel like watching it,” Charlotte replied in her thick French accent.
“Can I get you anything? A book? The paper?”
“No, thank you,” Charlotte said.
Michael stepped into the room. “Mrs. Knight?”
Charlotte stared at Michael for a moment as she slowly recognized him. “Is that… Michael—Michael Fenner?” she asked.
Ava smiled as she stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
“You remember me?” Michael asked.
“You look exactly the same as you did ten years ago,” Charlotte smiled. “Just ten feet taller.”
Michael laughed. “You look well, Mrs. Knight,” he said.
Charlotte looked around herself at all of the beeping hospital equipment, and the IV tubes that were all over her body. She laughed. “Are you sure?” she said.
“Well—Considering the circumstances,” Michael said. “You’re glowing, as they say.”
“How’s your family doing?” Charlotte asked obliviously.
Michael tried to maintain his smile. “They’re good,” he lied.
“Does your mom still make it out to all of your games?”
“She certainly tries.”
“I miss your mom—she was always so lively—so je ne sais pas.”
“She still is,” Michael said.
“That’s good. It’s such a shame you and Connor went you different ways—I mean, it was good for you. I’m glad you did so well for yourself. I just wish we could have stayed closer with your family.”
“Well—It’s not too late,” Michael said. “I’m sure my mom would be happy to see you again.”
Charlotte looked over at the window. The vibrant yellow Christmas lights outside cast a warm glow onto Charlotte’s face. “Maybe in another life,” she said.
Michael was suddenly felt an awkward lump in his gut. Something was wrong—Charlotte’s response was strangely out of character. “Connor felt bad—he hasn’t had a chance to come and see you in a few days. He’s been worried. I had a spare moment, so I thought I would just come in and check up on his behalf—Give you both some peace of mind.”
“That’s very kind of you. When you see him again, tell him not to worry so much. He’s a sweet boy, but he worries way too much.”
Michael laughed. “I’ll tell him that.”
“Really—Tell him not to worry. Tell him it’s all okay.”
Michael smiled. “I will,” he said. The lump in his gut was growing, turning. Something was definitely wrong. A chill stung Michael’s bones. After an awkward moment of silence, Michael forced another smile. “You’re looking well—They’ll probably be releasing you soon, right? Maybe we could all get together for a dinner soon.”
Charlotte smiled, but didn’t reply. She had nothing to say—nothing that Michael wanted to hear. “It’s so nice to see you, Mikey,” she said.
Michael stood awkwardly in silence for a moment. The whole hospital was unusually silent in that very moment. “Can I get you anything?”
“No—I’m more than alright. Thank you for the offer.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad to see you’re well,” Michael said. “I’ll let you get some rest.” Michael turned to the door and reached for the handle.
“Michael?” Charlotte said, stopping Michael from leaving.
Michael turned around. “Yeah?”
“Tell Connor that I love him.”
Michael stared at Charlotte for a moment. “Sure—Absolutely,” he said.
“And tell him to stop worrying—just follow his heart.”
“Follow his heart?” Michael said.
Charlotte smiled. “Tell him to forget what I said before, and to just follow his heart.”
“Bye, Mrs. Knight,” Michael said as he opened the door. He smiled at Charlotte one final time before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
“Bonne nuit,” Charlotte said.
Another shiver buzzed through his spine, making the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He stood still for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
“Coffee,” he muttered to himself, returning to the present.
A nurse walked by.
“Excuse me,” Michael said.
“Yes?”
“Where can I find coffee?” Michael asked.
“Just at the end of the hall, and to the left,” the nurse said.
“Thank you.” Michael began to walk down the hallway. He reached the end and turned towards the coffee machine. The whole time, that lump continued to turn as it lingered in the pit of his stomach. The anxiety grew and grew with every moment. It was so overwhelming that, once Michael had plugged his change into the coffee machine, he forgot what he was doing. He stared blankly at the coffee machine. After a moment, he took a breath and recollected himself. He pressed the right set of buttons and then picked up the cheap dispensed coffee.
He started to walk back down the hallway.
A flurry of nurses suddenly ran past Michael, towards Charlotte’s room. Michael moved aside and stopped against the wall. The lump was rising up from his gut, into his throat. His head began to spin—he didn’t want to believe it.
He slowly started to walk towards the room. The door was wide open as two nurses and a doctor rushed in. Michael took a deep breath—it couldn’t be.
Michael stopped walking as soon as he could see into the room. The nurses and the doctor were all huddled around Charlotte’s motionless body. Her vitals monitor was emitting a solid tone—her heart rate flat lined. Her eyes were shut.
A paramedic ran into the room. The doctor was shouting commands to all of the flustered nurses as he performed CPR. The doctor pushed down hard into Charlotte’s chest. “Where’s that defibrillator?” he shouted.
“It’s warming up,” the paramedic shouted back.
“I need it now.”
“It isn’t ready.”
&nb
sp; “We’re going to lose her!”
“Stay with us, Mrs. Knight!” Ava said. “Try to stay with us!”
“There’s no pulse.”
“Ten seconds!” the paramedic yelled.
“We don’t have ten seconds! Just bring it here!”
The paramedic grabbed the defibrillator unit and rushed over. The nurses moved aside while the paramedic lined up the handles. “Clear!” he yelled.
Zap!
Charlotte’s lifeless body jolted for a moment before settling into place again. The paramedic started to recharge the defibrillator, and the doctor resumed CPR. Nothing worked.
“It needs another twenty seconds,” the paramedic said.
The doctor pushed harder and harder with every revolution—hope was quickly being lost.
The nurses remained by the sidelines—there was nothing they could do, no way they could contribute. The room was cold and silent between the doctor’s commands.
“Ten seconds!” the paramedic called out.
The doctor was quickly tiring. Each slowing push was accompanied by a grunt. The paramedic stepped in again. “Clear!” he called out.
Zap!
The swift shock was once again unsuccessful. The paramedic looked to the doctor for further instruction. The room was completely solemn.
Ava, standing near the wall, wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Time of death: Fifteen hours, forty three minutes, December twenty-second,” the doctor said in defeat. “Cover her up, please.”
One of the nurses pulled the sheet over Charlotte’s head, and then walked to the door. She looked at Michael briefly, and then closed out the world.
Michael, with a cooling coffee in his trembling hand, was completely flustered. A beautiful soul just died.
Michael stepped back into Connor’s room, closing the door behind him.
“Coffee!” Connor said with a smile as he carefully propped himself up in his hospital bed. “Thank you so much.”
Michael walked over and handed his friend the coffee. “Yeah—Sorry it got kind of cold.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
Michael forced a smile. Connor had no idea.
Connor took a sip of his coffee. “It may be the worst coffee in the world, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
“Yeah,” Michael said, forcing a laugh.
“You okay?” Connor asked.
Michael looked into Connor’s eyes, and then looked away quickly. He couldn’t bare the thought of telling Connor. “Huh? Yeah.”
“You didn’t get one for yourself?” Connor asked.
“No—I’ve had plenty.”
“Suit yourself.” Connor continued to drink his coffee.
Michael awkwardly walked through the room.
“Did you see my mom?” Connor asked.
Michael stopped and looked towards Connor. He thought for a moment. “Yeah.”
“How is she?” Connor asked.
“Um,” Michael said. “She seemed good,” he said. “I was surprised that she recognized me.”
“She did? Yeah—She never forgets anyone. I think it’s a French thing.”
Michael bit his tongue.
“Did she say when she would be released?” Connor asked.
Michael was silent once again. He wanted to just tell Connor—he knew that he had to, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “She didn’t mention it.”
“You didn’t tell her about me—did you?”
“No,” Michael said.
“Thank God. She would die.”
Michael’s heart sank into his stomach. He felt sick. “Connor…”
“Yeah?”
Michael took a breath and considered his words carefully. “Your mom—Your mom…”
Connor’s smile began to sink.
“She said that she loves you,” Michael said.
Connor was silent for a moment. The cruel lump that burned a hole in Michael’s gut found its way inside of Connor. He stared blankly at Michael.
“Connor—I’m sorry—I don’t know how to tell you…”
“She’s okay, right? My mom is okay.”
“Connor, I’m so sorry. I—I’m so sorry.”
Connor’s head was spinning. He suddenly felt ill. His eyes quickly filled up with tears. Michael didn’t have the courage to deliver the message.
There was a knock at the door. It was the doctor—Charlotte’s doctor.
“Mr. Knight?”
Connor looked at the doctor, his eyes wide.
“Can I have a word with you—alone—for minute?”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THREE
SUSPICIONS CONFIRMED
Once the town of Snowbrooke had gone to sleep and the glowing living room lights turned black, Kane found himself back on the street. With his headlights turned off, he carefully drove down the snowy streets, looking for a very specific address—an address that he found in the hidden university records.
Just a few blocks from the campus, he found the address he was looking for—the house of Eric Daniels. He slowly rolled up to the house and stared at it for a moment. The lights were out and there was no sound, except for that of the howling wind.
Kane counted the number of houses on the block—the house was the fourth from the corner. Kane put his car back into first gear and continued to roll down the street, and around the corner. Out of sight and away from the glow of the streetlights, he parked his car. He waited a moment as he scanned his surroundings—making sure there were no witnesses. Then, he stepped out of his car and made his way to his trunk. He equipped himself with his usual gear—stakes, holy water, a small emergency pistol and his trusty automatic crossbow. He hid everything in his coat, and then he made his way down the alleyway, counting the houses.
Finally, he came upon the fourth house—Eric’s house. He looked around carefully and then he pulled himself up, over the fence. He snuck up to the backdoor and gently tried the handle. The door was unlocked.
Kane opened it with extreme caution. He stepped in slowly and looked around. The house was dark, still and silent. Lightly, Kane closed the door behind him, making no noise.
He walked down the hallway of the small house, towards the little living room area. The blinds were open, and there were no markings on the wall, no jars of rats’ blood, no occult bookshelf. The house was messy—just like any bachelor pad, but there was no sign of a vampire.
Kane stopped in the center of the living room and looked around. Near the television was a small picture frame—It was a photo of Eric and Andrew together, out in the sunshine, dressed in formal suits—Eric’s wedding day.
If Eric was the vampire, he did a great job of hiding it.
Creak!
A gust of wind caused the house to settle, startling Kane. Acting on instinct Kane quickly pulled out his crossbow and turned towards the sound.
It was a false alarm.
As Kane lowered his weapon, he noticed something—on the coffee table was the red glowing sunstone. Letting his armed hand fall to his side, Kane walked over to the pendant. He put the crossbow down on the table and then he picked the sunstone up and looked at it.
It glowed with a red pulse, just like the same stones he’d seen in the possession of vampires.
“What are you doing?”
Kane quickly spun around. Eric had a pistol in his hand—pointed directly at Kane’s chest. Kane was caught off guard—without his weapon. He froze in his place, considering his options. He tried to slowly move his hand towards his crossbow.
“Stop!” Eric yelled. “I’ll shoot you—I swear to God, I will shoot you.”
Kane froze completely.
“Who are you?” Eric asked.
Kane didn’t reply.
“Tell me, God damnit,” Eric said. His hand was trembling. He’d never pointed a gun at anyone before.
“I—I’m just trying to find the killer.”
“Why are you in my house?” Eric asked. “Step a
way from that.”
Kane took a step away from the crossbow. “I—I saw your pendant at the bar. I’ve seen it before.”
“So?”
“Where did you get it?” Kane asked.
“Answer my question.”
Kane stood silently.
“Who are you?” Eric shouted.
“My name is Kane. I—I was in your brother’s class. I—I’ve been looking for the killer. I’m undercover.”
“I don’t believe you,” Eric said. The palms of his hands were beginning to sweat as the trembling became more overwhelming.
“It’s true.”
“I don’t believe you,” Eric said again.
“He’s still out there—The killer. They caught the wrong guy.”
“To the wall…” Eric demanded. “Put your back to the wall.”
Kane stepped further back—further away from his weapon. Eric walked over to the table and looked down at the unfamiliar firearm.
“What is this?” Eric asked.
“It—It’s a gun.”
“I can see that. Why does it look like that?”
“It’s a special gun…” Kane said. He took a deep breath. “For—For vampires.”
There was a long silence in the room. “What did you say?” Eric asked.
“I hunt vampires. The killer out there is a vampire.”
“You’re full of shit,” Eric said.
“No—You’ve heard the news. They call him the Vampire Killer for a reason.”
Eric looked back down at the gun. The ammunition: stakes. A stake killed Andrew.
“Where did you get that pendant?” Kane asked.
Eric was silent as he looked back up at Kane—at his brother’s murderer. “I got it from Andrew…” he muttered. The shaking in his hand stopped as he lined the barrel up with Kane’s chest. “Andrew had it when you killed him.”
“W—What?” Kane said.
“You killed him. You killed my brother. Why?”
“I didn’t,” Kane said.
“Don’t lie to me,” Eric shouted.
“I—I didn’t mean to. I mean—It was an accident.”
“You killed my brother—my best friend…” Eric said as he looked down at the crossbow again. “You killed him with that thing—”
Bang!
A piercing gunshot rang through the small house.