by Platt, Sean
Abigail’s eyes widened as she leaped to her feet then nearly fell over in a dizzy heap, her body rebelling against the movement. Trying to figure out how she could fight back, Abigail realized she wouldn’t need to — the bandit’s hands were tied behind his back. And he was even younger than her, no older than ten.
Talani entered, smiling. “I got you some lunch.”
Abigail stared at the child, her eyes finding a bit more focus. He was filthy, like the others, wearing rags with God only knew how much dirt caked onto them. His hair was dark, long, and matted, reminding her of a neglected animal more than a child. He looked around with nervous glances, perhaps evaluating his odds of escape.
Abigail could feel an intense heat radiating off of his body, practically begging her to feed. Despite his condition, he was still full of energy that would make her feel better.
But when his eyes met hers, she flashed back to her time as a prisoner in Randy’s closet. A few months in. His girlfriend, Stacy, had been out of the house, and he had been feeling particularly monstrous. He came into the closet, grabbed Abigail — who had already learned that resistance was futile — picked her up, and carried her to his bed.
It was one of countless such abuses, but something about this particular time stayed with her. Abigail had been trying to decide if that would be the time she’d fight back, try and escape. She’d spent countless nights imagining how she might be able to get away, most of her ideas involving a pair of scissors on the dresser, a knife left on a plate, or something she could use as a weapon.
But Randy was a giant, way bigger and stronger than her. And even if she managed to gain a weapon, Abigail wasn’t sure if she could hurt him.
Yes, she had hate in her heart for the things he’d done to her, but she wasn’t sure if she could actually kill him.
Worse yet, what if she had failed to hurt him enough? What if the scissors didn’t puncture his skin? What if all she did was make him mad?
Surely, he’d grab her awkward weapon then show her how it was really used.
But as Randy was taking her to the bed on this particular night, she caught her reflection in the dresser mirror — the one with the scissors — and saw a look in her eyes that chilled her.
She was no longer human.
She was, like the kid before her now, a hopeless animal.
“What are you waiting for?” Talani asked.
“I … can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t? I saved him for you. You need to feed, Abigail.”
She looked at the boy, who was staring at her, maybe even feeling a bit of hope on the rise. His eyes were wet with tears, lips trembling, but he was too terrified to speak, or attempt escape.
“Let him go. He’s just a kid.”
Talani pushed past the boy, stepping up to Abigail, eyebrows furrowed. “We’re all kids!”
Abigail shook her head.
“He is the enemy. He and his group tried to kill us! They did kill Solomon! They almost killed me and Judith! And you!”
“He doesn’t know any better. Let him go.”
Talani got in Abigail’s face, lowering her voice to a whisper. “What’s going on, Abigail?”
Tears stung her eyes, but Abigail did her best to hold them in. “Nothing. I just … can’t. He’s not like them. He’s innocent.”
“None of us are innocent. You need to get that through your skull. It’s us against them. You let him go, and you’re handing them one more in their war against us. How long before he comes back, maybe kills me or you for your kindness?”
Maybe Talani was making a good point. But as Abigail eyed the scared, dirty boy, she couldn’t get past the truth that he was a child, hurled into a life he didn’t ask for, or choose.
“Let him go.”
“I’m not letting him go,” Talani said, a determined look in her eyes. “If you don’t eat him, I will.”
An idea came to Abigail. Possibly awful, but the only way she might save the child.
She threw her arms around Talani, hugging her tight.
At first, Abigail made it seem like the kind of hug you give someone when needing comfort, resting her head on Talani’s shoulder and closing her eyes.
Then she tightened her arms.
Without looking at the kid, she yelled, “Run!”
Talani pulled back, eyes wide in shock as she squirmed to break free.
Abigail held on as the boy’s footsteps bounced off the walls in retreat.
“Let go!” Talani shouted.
Abigail met her eyes and shook her head.
Talani’s face turned stone cold, serious and on the verge of an anger that Abigail never wanted to trigger.
“Let me go, Abigail!”
Abigail held tight.
On one hand, she didn’t want to alienate her only friend, but on the other, she couldn’t let Talani kill the boy.
“No.”
Talani stared into her eyes. “You’ll die to save your enemy?”
“He’s not my enemy.”
“Then you’re either dumb or blind.” Talani broke free, shoving Abigail to the ground.
She hit it so hard, the air was knocked from her lungs.
She could only watch helplessly as Talani raced after the boy, faster than any person should be able to run. Seconds later, while Abigail was still catching her breath, she heard the boy’s death cry.
The tears Abigail had been holding back finally broke free.
She sat in silence staring at the cave floor, shaking.
Talani returned, walking slowly.
Abigail couldn’t look at her.
“You know I had to do it.”
Abigail said nothing, staring at the ground, head down, not wanting Talani to see her tears.
Talani’s footsteps drew nearer.
Abigail refused to acknowledge her.
“Come on, Abigail. We only kept him alive to feed you.”
Still, Abigail said nothing.
Talani drew closer.
Suddenly Abigail felt Talani’s hand on her head, a gentle scalp massage. It felt good, but Abigail refused to acknowledge it. She kept her face down, tears flowing faster.
She hated how easily she cried.
Hated how emotionally unhinged she felt.
Hated this world.
Hated that she left John and Larry.
Hated everything.
“I did it because I love you, Abigail. You’re like a sister to me. And I don’t want to lose another sister.”
Suddenly, Talani’s hand gripped tighter on Abigail’s skull, followed by a white-hot flash.
At first, Abigail screamed, thinking that Talani was trying to feed off of her. Then she realized Talani was doing the opposite. She was feeding her the boy’s energy, along with his terrible memories.
Abigail had no choice but to suck it all in.
Judith returned just before dawn with news. A witch in the village of Kovar — on the way to Jonah — might be able to help Abigail.
They would sleep through the day and leave at nightfall.
Lying between Judith and Talani on the cave’s cold floor, Abigail couldn’t help but feel as if each day here was pulling her farther from her true family — John and Larry.
Seven
John
It had been morning on Earth when they crossed, but it was night in this other world, with two bright moons and a cold howling wind filled with sounds born from nightmares.
There were sixteen of them in total, all on horseback — the only means of reliable travel and carrying gear.
John was wearing a black Guardian uniform like the others, except he wore a helmet and dark visor, and his uniform was made to block the sun. His visor was up, the night allowing him to inhale the fresh air — sweet and unlike anything he’d ever smelled on Earth.
He looked back from his position beside Sanders and the Halfworlder, Emma Crowe, to see how Hope was doing.
If she was anxious, or scared by the sounds
of alien wildlife, he couldn’t tell — she was laughing at whatever stories Larry was telling. John was glad Larry came along. Not just because Larry was his best friend, but because he was good at things like this — easing Hope’s mind as they ventured into a dark and unfamiliar world.
“Got anything yet?” Sanders asked Emma, who had been trying to telepathically connect with her brother Logan.
“I’ve found him!”
The three of them stopped in their tracks, then the others followed, all eyes on Emma.
John watched the girl’s pupils racing beneath her eyelids as she communicated with her lost brother.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and suddenly her smile broke.
Eyes still closed she said, “He’s alive. Some of Jacob’s men attacked them, but they managed to escape.”
“Does he know where he is?” Sanders asked. “How many of them are still alive?”
She was quiet for a moment, likely relaying the questions to her brother.
John kept watching, heart racing, hoping for any information they could use to find Jacob.
Watching Emma, he couldn’t help but think of Abigail, also lost somewhere on this world. Part of him wanted to break off this search for Jacob and the crystals, go find Abigail, and secure her safety first. But that was a dumb idea. Sanders would never abandon their prime objective, not when the crystals posed a threat to Earth. And Abigail chose to leave. From the video of her crossing through the portal, she didn’t appear to be held against her will or in immediate danger. Abigail was probably sad, lonely, and confused. The other vampires found her, took advantage of her mental state, and convinced her to join them. But he had to assume she was safe, for now.
But of all the unknowns racing through his mind, there was one he couldn’t reconcile: Who were these other vampires, and how did they find her? Were they random Otherworlders she’d run into, or were they working for Jacob?
Emma finally spoke. “Two others are alive. They’re hiding in an burned down houses just outside of a place called The Citadel. They’re afraid to leave. We have to find them.”
“Can they tell us where Jacob is?” Sanders asked.
“They can help us once we find them.” Emma opened her eyes, tears falling. “The connection is gone.”
John asked, “Did he tell you how we can find them?”
She shook her head. “No, but I can feel him.”
John sat up straighter on his horse. “Where?”
“That way.” Emma pointed southeast.
“How far?” Sanders asked.
She shook her head. “I’m not sure.”
Sanders spoke loud enough for everyone in the party to hear. “We’ve got a location. Southeast. Not sure how far. We need to hurry.”
They set off in their new direction, eager to catch up.
As their horses trotted, John found himself beside Emma. He noticed her watching him from the corner of her eye. She caught him looking and turned back to the path, face flushing.
John wished she hadn’t been a Halfworlder, as their auras were never easy to read. They changed too quickly and were rarely accurate. Her colors were a roiling blend of grays and bright pink, two colors that were opposite in humans — sickness and health.
Finally Emma turned back to him, and clearly nervous, she spoke. “You’re John, right? A Valkoer?”
“Yes.”
She nodded then looked down, avoiding his eyes.
He figured one of two things was happening. Either she knew he’d been working for Omega and was responsible for capturing people she knew, or Emma, like many Halfworlders, didn’t care for the vampires among them. John couldn’t blame her either way.
He decided to pass the awkwardness with small talk. “How long have you been working with Omega?”
“This is the first time. My brother went to work for them so I wouldn’t have to. So I could have a normal life.”
“Sounds familiar,” John said, thinking of how they leveraged Hope’s and Abigail’s lives to force his cooperation.
“How’s that?”
“They did the same to me, to someone I care about.”
Her face warmed, ever so slightly. Maybe she was holding his former job against him.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“We’ll get your brother back,” John promised. He was nowhere near certain but figured a bit of false confidence might help Emma feel better — maybe strengthen her telepathic bond with her brother. Telepathy was a mental game — the more desperately you tried to connect with someone, the more likely the ability would fail you. Any reassurance could help.
He’d already made his own attempts to connect with Abigail but had so far failed. He couldn’t even get a feeling that she was out there. The silence was disturbing, but John couldn’t let his doubt take root. Not now. There had to be another reason that he couldn’t feel her, something other than her being dead in the woods. If Abigail was dead, he felt certain he’d feel it, no matter how far away she was. He’d felt Tiny’s death, and his bond with Abigail was much deeper.
“Was it her?” Emma asked, nodding back at Hope, still side by side with Larry, laughing at another one of his stories — about the time he was on a stakeout and had to follow a woman into a female locker room.
John nodded. “Yes.”
“Well, you’re together now, at least,” Emma said, her tone bittersweet.
“We will find him,” John reiterated. “You’re twins, right?”
“Yes, though by virtue of being born twelve seconds later, I’m forever the little sister.”
“It’s good having someone who always has your back, right?”
“Yeah, it is,” Emma said, now melancholic.
Clearly, she wasn’t convinced that they’d find her brother. John wondered again what hell she’d been through, and how much had been at the hands of Omega. And again, he thought of Abigail, focusing on her, sending telepathic signals to no response.
Hey, Larry, you tuned in?
“You got it, Bro. What’s up?”
Just checking. Trying to reach Abigail.
“Sorry, man. Why don’t you come back here and hang out with us a bit?”
On it.
John excused himself from his awkward conversation with Emma and slowed his horse until Larry and Hope were beside him, Hope taking his left and Larry his right.
Larry whispered, “What’s Wednesday Adams’s deal?”
“Wednesday Adams?” Hope looked at Larry. “You can’t think of a reference more recent than that?”
“Sorry,” Larry laughed. “I loved The Adams Family.”
“She doesn’t look anything like her.”
“All right, so sue me for a bad joke. At least John never calls out my terrible references.”
“That’s because he doesn’t watch TV.”
John added, “And my pop culture references are centuries old.”
Larry pointed at John. “Yeah, you are an old fucker.”
They rode for a while just like that, shooting the shit and joking like old friends, even though Larry and Hope hadn’t known one another all that well in Florida. Larry was the sort of guy who became an instant buddy, assuming you passed his asshole test.
Suddenly, everything went wrong.
John sensed something in the dark woods, beasts of some sort, drawing closer.
The horses smelled danger.
Hell erupted around them.
The horses freaked, all of them neighing and most of them bucking, throwing their riders to the ground.
John somehow managed to hang on, as did Hope.
And then the beasts came.
Flashes of shadow, hair, claws, and bright crimson eyes moving in the darkness at the speed of murder.
Chaotic screams and movement everywhere at once as horses and people attempted to find safety, and the beasts closed in for the kill.
To John’s left, one of the horses came barreling toward him, causing his mount to rise up in an atte
mpt to escape.
Then, before the horses collided, the oncoming steed was split into two, hot slaughter splashing John and his horse.
Shit!
As the horse fell into halves, its murderer stopped, eyes finding John and his mount — another two meals.
Then John saw the nature of the beast — a giant wolf, as large as the horse but thicker, stronger, deadlier.
John’s horse bucked again, sending him to the ground before it galloped away. He was momentarily frozen as the wolf looked down at him, then at the escaping horse, as if trying to determine whom to kill — easy target or fleeing prey.
The wolf leaped over John, so fast that he barely had time to react, then charged into the woods behind the horse.
Automatic gunfire erupted. Adrenaline and fear coursing through him, John scanned the chaos searching for Hope.
In the chaos, he saw wolves tearing humans and horses to shreds; saw Omega agents blasting away, having killed at least one of the giant wolves; and then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Hope being carried away by her horse, with a pair of wolves in pursuit.
John had no time to look for Larry or ensure anyone else’s safety. They were on their own.
He had to save Hope.
John ran into the woods, his heart pounding. He had to outrun the beasts before they caught up with his love.
Eight
Caleb
2011
Caleb woke, flinching to the sound of a cell door creaking open.
Time for pain.
His heart raced.
His naked, battered body tensed in the chair, muscles bulging against the straps. He itched to break free, but after three weeks of struggling, he knew it was pointless. The binds were tightened after every interrogation.
What will today’s torment bring?
Caleb couldn’t see anything with the hood over his head, but he knew that Sister Raina was in the room, she of The Covenant, the elite soldiers of The Hand of the Seven Gods. Sister Raina had gone from captor to inquisitor, torturing him thrice daily for answers he didn’t have, asking many variations of:
Why were you outside The Kingdom of the Forgotten?