A Time To Survive (Verge of Extinction): A Magical & Monstrous / Supernatural Urban Fantasy.

by J. Axbridge

  “Wait . . . so you two figured out a way to kill the vamps and the werewolves along the way?” Arthur asked skeptically. “That’s pretty impressive.”

  “Kill vampires — not really kid. Kill wolves — sure did . . . Kill WEREWOLVES? What in the world are you talking about? Did jya bang your head on that boat when we flipped it?” Earl said in a high pitched tone. “My brother didn’t say werewolves; he said wolves, we were attacked by big fucking wolves. There’s no such thing as, WEREWOLVES!”

  “You two believe in vampires but not werewolves? Sorry, but you were attacked by werewolves,” I spoke surprisingly casual, regaining control of my frayed emotions.

  “Those three boys that helped save your lives were not only our friends, they were werewolves . . . they were good people too,” I said, my heart now aching for Jax. “And before you ask . . . We are not mutant werewolves, we’re one hundred percent humans head to toe.”

  “That’s good to know.” Dillon cracked a disingenuous smile, “So how many other humans did you meet on your way east?” He asked curiously while stroking his grimy wet speckled beard.

  “Humans? You mean People?” I quizzically replied so quick that I thought the two strangers picked up on my instinctive reaction.

  “Yeah, how many people have you run into?” Dillon corrected, not missing a beat.

  “Well, I hate to break this to you guys, but as far as those werewolves knew and from what we’ve seen, we are the only five humans known to be alive in this whole area. But I guess there are seven of us now. Almost enough for a softball team,” I joked, but no one laughed.

  Caelyn, Victoria and Ethan continued to sit quietly just listening to the conversation between me and the brothers. Every so often they’d look towards Arthur, surely hoping he’d jump in and ask the brothers a question or two because they’d definitely noticed exactly what I had; the look on Arthur’s face had changed from one of curiousness to one of mistrust.

  “Vampires and werewolves, that’s fantastic . . . what the hell are next, zombies?” Earl sadistically smiled and I couldn’t help but feel that something was really off with these two guys.

  “So how did you manage to kill those werewolves again?” Arthur stared dubiously at Earl, and I was relieved to know that I wasn’t the only one to believe these guys weren’t who they were pretending to be.

  As the two men began to recount their encounter with the werewolves once more, Arthur took notes. His journal was quickly turning into a guide on how to kill monsters and he already came up with a catchy name he was proud of. Opening his journal, written on top of the first page in capital block style letters he’d outlined numerous times in black ink, was written: “CON’S: KILL THEM – DEFEAT THEM - SURVIVE!”

  Dillon and Earl walked nearer and stood over Arthur’s shoulder observing as he wrote down how they supposedly killed the werewolves that attacked them. When he’d finished writing, Arthur then sketched pictures to go along with the descriptions and instructions. He had done this for all his journal entries, saying that sometimes pictures are easier to understand than words and in a hurry they may be a life saver.

  Although Dillon and Earl were giving Arthur what seemed rather good information for his journal, he still had that look of mistrust in his eyes as they narrowed sharply. “So the werewolves only die with a direct stab between the eyes, you have to be precise, quick, and make it a hard blow to get through their dense/thick skull. No poison was used, (but may work), just a stab between the eyes, swift and strong.” Arthur stared at his journal continuing to take notes and sketch.

  “That’s quite a book you have kid. If we remember any other important details we’ll let you know so you can jot them down in there. Just one thing,” Earl enquired. “What does CON’S stand for? You’ve written ‘CON’S’ on top of your first page I’ve noticed, in giant letters.”

  “Oh, that’s just what I call the werewolves and vamps, C.O.N.’s. It stands for ‘Creatures of the Night.’ So far I only have these two written down but the way things are going, who knows how many pages I’ll fill, I may end up with an award winning book on the subject someday.” Arthur chuckled to himself. “If only my Creative Writing teacher could see me now. It took a world ending experience for me to actually write in a daily journal,” he said smiling.

  “I’d give you an A+ kid. Gold Star all the way!” Dillon patted him on the shoulder.

  “Enough of the English Lesson; we need to decide what to do?” I looked to my siblings who were now crowded around Arthur going through his journal with him page by page, uh-ing and ah-ing at his intricately drawn pictures. “Listen! With Andrew, Charles and Jax gone we’ve lost our guides and protection. We need to make a decision on what we should do before its dark again, so . . . any ideas?”

  “Let’s go home,” the twins said eerily in unison, glancing up from Arthur’s notebook as if they’d been waiting for that question all along.

  “We can find our way Addie,” Caelyn added assuredly.

  “It would be great to get cleaned up again and eat something from a can.” Victory said, “Come on Addie, we need to go home. Maybe Mom and Dad landed safely and came back looking for us and are waiting at home right now?” She finished with a glimmer of hope shining in her emerald eyes.

  I had been quick with my decision making earlier, especially under duress when Jax was close by my side, but this was different, I was now their lone leader again and I didn’t know what to do, my ‘so called’ confidence was waning under my self imposed pressure.

  “Ethan, what do you think?” Arthur asked our little brother, taking the attention and stress off of me for a moment, which was appreciated, giving me time to gather my thoughts.

  “Umm . . . I think we stay as far away from those vampires as we can. So whichever direction is safest, let’s go that way,” Ethan said earnestly. He was always the one you could count on for a direct, unbiased, honest answer.

  “OK, we go back to Jax’s parents place for help first and then back to our home for a quick look around and more supplies,” Arthur stood. “But remember what Jax told all of us, it’s not safe at our home, so we can’t move back in, just a quick stop to see if mom and dad showed up and then we’re outta there.”

  “ARTHUR’S RIGHT, IT’S NOT SAFE THERE!” A voice shouted out from behind a group of trees just feet off the shoreline.

  “Holy Crap — IT’S JAX!” I yelled, my heart pumping like a race horse. A wave of joy and relief rolled over me like I’d never felt before, my body warming as I ran to him crashing into his hard muscular upper body wrapping my arms around him tightly, forgetting about any pain he may have been in.

  At first I could feel Jax’s embarrassment receiving such an emotional hug from me. But slowly his tense muscles relaxed and he smiled softly, gradually hugging me tightly in return, causing me to squeeze him even more. I didn’t want to let go of him or that moment. He was back, he was mine and we were together again.

  When I finally released my grip and stood back, I found Jax had looked better; he seemed deathly exhausted, cold, and soaked from head to foot with deep gouges on his face and arms. Blood covered most of his shirt on front and back, and his snug jeans were torn to mere rags exposing his solid leg muscles.

  I so fiercely wanted to kiss Jax, to take all his pain away with my warmth, the animal like attraction to him was at a high as I breathed in his wild nature, pine like scent. Reluctantly I fought back my feelings. I really didn’t know him that well yet but in this moment felt closer to him than anyone I’d ever felt for in my life.

  He was willing to give up his life to save me, to save us all. I thought, a tear forming in the corner of my eye, knowing at that instant I was falling in love with Jax Morgan, wondering if he was magically falling for me also.

  That’s when my doubts inevitably entered. Why didn’t he hug me as tight as I hugged him? Is it because I’m not a werewolf? I don’t mind that he’s a werewolf. My mind wandered before I let those thoughts evaporate, giving J
ax an awkward, relieved smile.

  “We’re happy you’re alive, Jax,” I gently placed my hand on his arm.

  “Where are Charles and Andrew?” Arthur asked, hoping for more good news. “Did they make it? Are they scouting the area already?”

  Jax, for the first time since we’d met him on our street, looked as if he might break down and cry, staring somberly at the ground. “They fought hard and took more than a couple vamps down with them but there were too many. Once they both fell, our fight was over and it was time to run, I was hoping they were somehow behind me but feared the worst. I was just able to get back to shore while fending a barrage of vampires off in the dark waters, but once on shore it was a foot race, werewolf versus vampire, and as you can see, I won. . .” Jax looked up with pure anger replacing his somber face. “Anyway enough about that, there’s no time to grieve, we need to move on and we have less than six hours of daylight left.”

  “Where are you kids heading?” Asked Dillon a little too eagerly, but I dismissed his tone figuring I was still being over cautious and that the brothers probably didn’t want to be alone again, especially so soon.

  “Back to my parent’s house,” Jax replied sternly, “We need to tell them what happened, and regroup; it’s the only thing to do considering the circumstances. You two of course are welcome to join but there is something you need to know about my family. That is if you haven’t put two and two together already.”

  “Yeah, we know. These kids were kind enough to tell us all about werewolves,” Dillon sarcastically smiled.

  Chapter 13 - The Loves We Remember

  Adelaide

  Even in our exhausted state, the return trip to Jax’s house was faster than when we headed to the waters only a day earlier, which now seemed like a lifetime ago. On the return trip we took shorter breaks and used the main roads and paths throwing caution to the wind leaving us open to possible rogue werewolf and vampire attacks. We even jogged through areas where there was minimal destruction with few places to hide. It probably wasn’t the smartest move, but we felt the need to get back to Jax’s home quickly.

  Tired, thirsty, hungry, and still soggy from our ordeal on the waters, we finally approached the thin tree line near Jax’s home finding the area uncharacteristically silent.

  We began sweeping for vampires or unwanted guests before approaching the house for safety. Only half finished, Jax mouthed to me that he noticed the front door was cracked open an inch and I knew he couldn’t wait any longer; he sprinted through the clearing kicking up dust and ash before racing inside calling for his parents.

  “They’re gone, something is wrong!” He popped his head out the front door and yelled to the rest of us who were still huddled by the tree line.

  I ordered the others to stay put until I knew it was safe and then ran up to join Jax in his home.

  “No, this can’t happen, not now,” he was saying as I walked through the front door. He began taking deep breaths to regain his composure, barely staving off a werewolf change I assumed. Calming down he looked around as I did the same and together realization hit that a serious struggle had occurred. Scratch marks were everywhere; fresh blood stains were on the floor and ceiling, furniture was knocked down and torn apart, dresser drawers had been pulled out and thrown onto the ground, and large holes had been punched and torn into the walls.

  “This was not a random attack; whoever did this was searching for something. Something important,” Jax said quietly as he stared at the bookcase. “They’re after information . . . Look at the books, they’re scattered everywhere! No one rips through books like that just for fun.”

  The rest of my family, apparently not listening to my orders to stay away until I gave the all clear, caught up with Jax and me, entering his family home cautiously. Dillon and Earl remained on the front porch; they said they’d be lookouts in case anyone tried to sneak up on us.

  “What’s going on Jax, where are your parents?” I asked, studying the scene, careful not to touch anything.

  “They’re gone . . . Looks like vamps may have done this . . . but I don’t believe they killed my parents otherwise their bodies would probably be lying here dead like poor Sampson. No . . . The vamps were searching for something that my parents did not give them, and I believe I know what it was.”

  “What is so valuable that they’d destroy your entire house searching for it?” Arthur asked, walking across the room straightening the knocked over photos and furniture, picking up papers and glancing over torn up books.

  “My family has a long history here in Lyall and nearby cities; my relatives were some of the first settlers to this area. Stories of the great battles between the werewolves and vampires have been passed down through generations. Think thousands of years, not hundreds. Again as a young boy I was told a few of those stories and some I still remember vividly. But what’s important is that the Elders mentioned that these stories were not only passed down by mouth, but there was also a great book that existed which contained them in detail.”

  “So basically you’re talking about a history book, what’s so important about that?” Arthur asked as he continued to clean.

  “Arthur, what’s important is that this ancient book contained not only battle history but also in depth information on vampires, werewolves, killing methods, weapons, medicines, poisons, moon positions, seasons and most importantly, locations of where werewolves past and present live. Imagine an almanac, encyclopedia and address book containing information over thousands of years mashed together, strictly focused on the supernatural. That’s one hell of a book to have in your possession!”

  “Yeah, I could see how that would be an important book to own . . . But have you or anyone you know ever seen this amazing book?” Arthur said as he lifted up an end table, placing it next to the sofa neatly. “And why would your parents have it?”

  “Not sure why they’d have the book? Maybe because we’re one of the older families?” Jax looked around the room. “All I know is that it would be a very powerful book to have and that could be exactly what those damn vamps were searching for . . . ?”

  “Too cool! So you really think that book has been here in your house while you were growing up?” asked Ethan as inquisitive as ever. His curiosity for the fantasy world of dinosaurs and dragons seemed to be gone and more appropriately replaced by real world vampires, werewolves and of course supernatural books.

  “That’s the question isn’t it Ethan? I’m not sure,” Jax said, still staring at the old bookcase thoughtfully where half the books were knocked down on the shelves, the other half strewn across the floor, ripped and torn pages scattered about. “Thing is, for werewolves on our eighteenth birthday, supposedly we’re allowed to read and study an ancient book for the first time. Problem is, I’m only seventeen, I haven’t read or seen that book yet, only heard stories to this point and I don’t even know if it’s the same book. . . But since I’m seventeen, it’s possible my parents may have acquired the book and hid it around here somewhere, waiting for my birthday to show it to me.”

  “Well I believe the book is here.” I said matter of factly, “And whomever was here was definitely looking for it, you said yourself Jax that it holds the key to a lot of information and the upper hand in conquering and ruling the whole world, not just in a war between vamps and werewolves,” I said as I picked up book after book looking for clues, flipping through them then stacking them neatly on the mostly empty shelves.

  “So where is this ancient book?” Dillon’s voice startled me and I stumbled back a step. “Do you have any ideas where your parents may have hid it for safe keeping?” He asked as he and Earl sauntered in through the screen door having obviously listened closely to our conversation.

  “I have no idea. As I’ve said, I’m only seventeen so I’m not let in on the big werewolf secrets yet,” Jax said, turning towards me with an apologetic look.

  “Everyone, it’s time to start searching for this so called special book, we can’t
just stand around here all day waiting for vampires to return and find us and it. Search for trap doors on the floor, safes in the walls, the attic, basement, the cookie jar if they have one, we need to find that book if it’s here, that is if the vamps haven’t got it already,” Earl said, as he began lifting carpets and moving tables without a care. Jax looked annoyed but he let the brothers search. I understood then how much that book really meant to him if he was going to let some strangers take control in his own home.

  “Addie, could we at least dry off first – please.” Caelyn glanced miserably down at her soaked and dirty clothes. But before I could answer Dillon shouted.

  “No—You ain’t changin’ right now, we don’t have time; we need to find the book before the vampires come back,” He barked causing Caelyn’s face to scrunch in fright.

  “It’s OK Cae, let’s do a little searching first, then we’ll get changed. I promise.” I said, and the worry creases on Caelyn’s face slowly disappeared.

  The twins were assigned the bedrooms. Together they lifted mattresses, looked in closets and checked dressers. Ethan began in the kitchen looking under the sink first, and then through all the cupboards and drawers, pulling everything out in search of the ancient book. Jax took Arthur with him to their large dirt floor basement full of boxes and storage rooms to go through while Dillon and Earl stayed upstairs checking out the main rooms of the home.

  I was on my own floating from room to room checking out places others may have overlooked. But once back in the main family room of the home I couldn’t help but be drawn to the large wooden bookshelf where books were still half strewn. Something was off, and I as approached closer I found something strange about one of the older, leather bound books still left standing upright. It wasn’t a special book by any means, besides maybe its rustic brown tinge and certain old age, and the title on the spine simply read, “A.W. Loves We Remember - Vade Mecum.”