Unforeseen: The Vampire Awakenings, Book 9

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Unforeseen: The Vampire Awakenings, Book 9 Page 8

by Davies, Brenda K.


  Chapter Twelve

  “How many tunnels are down here?” Jack asked.

  “Many.”

  Jack wondered if Mal had any idea how many tunnels he’d dug over the years.

  “There are three main tunnels with separate side tunnels. The main tunnels are named ocean-view, the pit, and lighthouse. Some of the side tunnels branch off to exits while others dead end. The ones leading nowhere are for storage and as a distraction should Savages find their way down here,” Mal continued.

  “Has that happened before?”

  “Yes. Not often and, so far, we’ve been lucky that they were killed in the tunnels or we found and destroyed them before they could reveal what they discovered here. It’s only ever been security personnel who found their way down here. I’ve lost a couple of humans and vamps over the years to those who found their way into the tunnels and while they were hunting for food above. The humans rarely go out because they’re slower and afraid, but they do go outside sometimes.”

  It sounded like such a horrible existence; Jack would have preferred death. “Do you think the vamps running this island know you’re still alive?”

  “I’ve been spotted above before and so have some of the others. Plus, they have our pictures—”

  “They what?” Jack demanded.

  “They took our pictures when they caught us.”

  Jack tried to recall all the details of his capture. “I don’t remember anything between being ambushed in the bar and waking up in that cage.”

  “They have your picture,” Mal stated. “They probably took it while you were knocked out.”

  Jack’s skin crawled at the same time his anger mounted. No matter what it took, he would get off this island and destroy these freaks. “How long has this hunt been happening?”

  “Too long,” Mal murmured. “But I don’t know the official timeline. The Savages who weren’t killed outright down here didn’t reveal much when we questioned them. I don’t think they tell the security members much about what happens here.”

  “Some of them have probably been working this thing for years.”

  “You would think so, but they haven’t.”

  Jack’s eyebrow quirked at this statement. “What do you mean?”

  “The guards we’ve questioned were vampires who were brought to this island as humans and turned here. The Savages who rule this island told them they would give them immortal life in exchange for five years of working security here. After that, they’d be free to go.”

  “And they set them free?”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “No,” Jack said. “I’d be willing to bet there are a bunch of dead security guards buried somewhere on this island, but their friends probably think they’re living the life somewhere else.”

  “That’s what I think too.”

  “I’m surprised there are more humans down here than vamps,” Jack said.

  “Since I started taking in survivors, more humans have always found their way down here. Vamps try to outrun their hunters or fight them, but humans try to hide and stumble across the entrances.”

  “Makes sense,” Jack said as he rubbed at his chin and rocked back on his heels. “I want to see the boats.”

  “It’s too risky,” Mal said.

  “I think that’s my choice to make.”

  “Is it? You’re new here; you have no loyalty to us. If they catch you—”

  “They’ll never take me alive again,” Jack interrupted.

  “And if they gas you again?”

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done down here and how you’ve kept these people alive, but I’m not one to hide.”

  Mal walked over to stand in front of some writing on the wall. So focused on his conversation with the vamp, Jack hadn’t noticed it until now. When he looked more closely, he realized it was a calendar etched into the dirt.

  “I’ve been down here for fifteen years,” Mal said. “Digging endlessly, trying to survive, and living like a rat. If I escape, I still have plenty of life ahead of me, but the humans…”

  His voice trailed off, and he turned to face Jack. “They’re rotting down here, and they know it. Their life is slipping away from them, and there’s nothing they can do to stop it.”

  “How many have you saved over the years?”

  “Thirteen. I’ve lost four.”

  The sadness in Mal’s eyes eased Jack’s remaining distrust of the man. He wasn’t about to tell Mal all his secrets, but this was not a bad man. The look on his face said he’d taken each of those deaths personally.

  “Two were killed while they were above. One tried to make a swim for it and drowned, and the other slit her wrists.”

  Jack winced at the image. “And Charlie?”

  “What about her?”

  Jack didn’t know how to respond or what he’d been trying to ask. And Charlie what? Is she okay? Does she do well down here? Where is Dylan’s father? Is there something between you?

  But he couldn’t ask any of those questions. They were none of his business.

  “She’s a fighter,” he finally said, though it didn’t fit with his opening question.

  “She is,” Mal agreed, but Jack could tell he didn’t buy Jack’s piss-poor cover-up as Mal’s eyes were far more assessing when they ran over him again.

  “Is the calendar accurate?” Jack asked and waved at the markings behind Mal.

  “Yes.” Mal stepped to the side to allow Jack a better view of it. “I’ve been extremely diligent about marking time over the years. We need to know when the hunt is going to start, even if it didn’t matter this year.”

  “How long have I been down here?”

  “Almost a day.”

  “Shit.” He must have been in worse shape than he realized if he slept that long. “I have to find my friends and see those boats.”

  “Going above now is dangerous, and you don’t know the island well.”

  “I’ll take him.”

  Jack turned to find Charlie standing in the doorway. How had he not heard her approach? Because the woman moved like a ghost. He detected her lavender scent now, but the aroma of the earth muted it.

  Charlie had no idea why she’d volunteered to spend more time with Jack when she should be avoiding him, but his determination to get off this island was something she admired. Everyone here talked about getting away, but as the years passed, they seemed more resigned to being trapped here until they died, even Mal.

  She refused to let that happen to Dylan. Spending more time with Jack might prove disastrous, but her son dying here would be far worse. She didn’t care what she had to do; she would get Dylan off this island, and Jack was willing to take the risks that might break them free.

  “It’s not a good idea,” Mal said. “What if they catch you?”

  “I would never reveal anything about any of this,” she said, insulted he believed she might.

  “I know,” Mal said. “But what about Dylan?”

  Charlie’s heart lurched; it would destroy Dylan if he lost her. Some of her certainty about going with Jack dwindled as her eyes fell to her boots. This was a damned if she did, damned if she didn’t situation. If she went above and they caught her, she would die, and she would leave her son alone on this island to rot. If she remained hidden, then her son would eventually die here, but at least he wouldn’t do it alone.

  Tears clogged her throat as she imagined Dylan here without her to protect and love him. The others loved him too, but not like she did.

  But then she imagined him continuing to waste away down here. His education would never progress; he would never have the friends he deserved or marry and have children. She would be with him, but he would never have the life he deserved.

  And what was she going to do; stay on this island and watch him turn into an old man and die without ever getting the chance to live?

  The possibility of that made up her mind for her. Dylan would be devastated and lost without her, but she h
ad to give him a chance at the life he deserved. Spending more time with Jack was probably a bad idea, but she’d walk through the fires of Hell for Dylan. She could and would keep her libido in check.

  “I can’t let Dylan die here, Mal. I just can’t,” she said.

  “I understand.”

  “If something happens to me—”

  “I’ll protect him,” Mal vowed.

  Jack glanced between them as unreasonable resentment churned in his gut. What were these two to each other? The idea of Mal touching her, kissing her, and holding her sent his blood pressure skyrocketing; if he’d still been human, he would be on the verge of having a stroke. Instead, he was contemplating beating Mal bloody again.

  And he liked Mal. Yes, the man was a little odd, but fifteen years of living like a mole would do that to anyone.

  His gaze traveled to Charlie with her striking, mismatched eyes and proud features. He restrained himself from stalking across the room and staking his claim on her by kissing her. It would most likely result in another broken nose, and he much preferred breathing to having his face rearranged again.

  “We’ll go up now,” Jack said.

  “It would probably be best if you learned the tunnels and exits better before going above,” Mal said. “That way you’ll know how to traverse them without getting killed.”

  Jack was eager to find Mike and Doug, but Mal was right. “You’re right,” he agreed before turning to Charlie. “Are you going to lead the tour?”

  Charlie scowled at him. “Follow me.”

  She didn’t give him a chance to reply before she turned on her heel and strode away. Mal stared quizzically after her, but Jack smirked and hurried to catch up with Charlie’s retreating figure.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jack had no idea how much time he’d spent below ground. He and Charlie had spent a good portion of the day—or was it yesterday?—exploring two of the tunnels. He’d already been inside both those tunnels as one he’d fallen into, and the other went to the root cellar, but more side tunnels were branching off them than he realized. Most of those tunnels dead-ended, but some led out of the underground labyrinth Mal created.

  When they returned to the cavern in the center of the underground maze, Charlie called for a break. “I want to see my son,” she said and walked away before Jack could reply.

  Jack stared at the group gathered around the fire. Their wide eyes stood out from their pale faces as they gazed at him with a mixture of unease and hope. Jack walked over and sat close to the fire. He held his hands over the flames to ease the chill of the damp earth from him. Next to the fire lay a rabbit that had already been skinned and was waiting to be cooked.

  He watched as Darlene stripped the bark from a branch with a knife. She then weaved the bark in and out of the holes she’d created in a shirt and a pair of pants. Jack recognized them as the clothes Charlie stripped from the Savages yesterday—or was that two days ago? Three days ago?

  He hated this not knowing what day or time it was, and Mal wasn’t around to ask.

  “It’s not the best,” Darlene said as she looked at Jack. He hadn’t realized she was aware he was watching her. “But it works.”

  “It’s interesting,” he said.

  “I suppose you could call it that,” Darlene muttered as she lifted the clothing to inspect the seams she’d joined together. Her black hair dangled in a braid over her shoulder, and her brown eyes were nearly black. She had a wide boned face and dusky skin. “We call it necessary.”

  “Will it be a blanket?” he asked.

  “Yes. It may be getting warmer above, but it will remain pretty much the same down here. I miss the summer,” the woman added this last bit in a wistful voice. Jack was sure she didn’t think he heard.

  She set the clothes aside and picked up another shirt. She sliced the material open and used the tip of her knife to poke holes into it before stripping another branch of its bark and weaving the shirt into the other articles of clothing.

  His attention was drawn away from Darlene when Charlie emerged from the shadows of the pit tunnel with Dylan. They stopped twenty feet away and sat. Charlie used the stick she held to draw something in the dirt. Dylan rested his head on his mother’s shoulder and yawned as he watched her.

  Having been raised by a single mom, Jack believed he recognized something familiar in the bond between them, but it could be wishful thinking on his part and Dylan’s father was waiting at home for them. Charlie sure didn’t kiss like she had someone waiting for her.

  Charlie pointed at something with the stick, and Dylan leaned forward to examine it more closely before taking the stick and writing something. The way the firelight played over Charlie’s chestnut hair and danced in her amazing eyes captivated him. He wanted to run the strands of her hair through his fingers again.

  Dylan laughed, and the sound of it caused the corners of Charlie’s mouth to quirk into a smile. It was the first smile Jack had seen from her, and it caused her face to glow as love emanated from her eyes.

  Unable to stay away from her any longer, Jack rose and strolled toward them as Dylan pointed at something else in Charlie’s drawing. “England, France, Germany, and Spain.”

  Jack realized they were having a geography lesson and, tilting his head to the side, he made out the crude shapes of the countries in the dirt. Geography had never been his strong suit, so he took Dylan’s word for it as he handed the stick back to Charlie.

  “Good,” she said.

  “We did this last week, Mom,” Dylan said.

  “I know,” Charlie replied as she tried to ignore the twinge to her heart his words caused. He should be doing and learning far more than this. “But practice makes perfect.”

  Dylan looked about to protest, but he smiled at her instead. “Yes, it does.”

  Charlie knew he’d only agreed to make her happy. She was the one who was supposed to make him happy, not the other way around. “What would you like to learn instead?” she asked.

  Jack waited for Dylan to say he didn’t want to learn anything, but the boy considered this as he stared at his mom.

  “How about some history?” Dylan suggested. “Maybe Mal or Miguel can help us again.”

  Because of their advanced ages, the two vampires were helping them with their history lessons. At eighty-seven, Mal knew a lot about New England, the Great Depression, and the wars the U.S. was involved in. Miguel had been regaling Dylan with tales of Mexico’s history and culture as well as teaching him Spanish.

  Some of the others helped with his schooling too. Darlene, with her half Native American ancestry, had a vast knowledge of plants and animals as well as the Oneida tribe. Dylan had milked her dry for information, but Darlene patiently answered all his endless questions.

  He may complain about having to continue his schooling down here, but he was a curious boy with a thirst for knowledge. Down here, he was like a plant denied food and water as he shriveled more with every passing day. She was doing everything she could to keep him alive, but she dreaded the day when his bright spirit wilted and died in these tunnels.

  “We can do that,” she said as she ruffled his hair.

  “I know some history,” Jack offered.

  Dylan’s gaze swung to him, and he saw the enthusiasm in the boy’s eyes. “Do you know about World War II?”

  “I know some things about it,” Jack said. “History was never my favorite. I much preferred science, especially biology, but I can remember some of what I learned about the war.”

  “What do you know about science?” Dylan asked.

  Jack smiled at him as they entered more familiar territory. “Plenty. Before I became a vampire, I planned to become a veterinarian, so I majored in science in college.”

  Charlie couldn’t picture Jack surrounded by puppies and kittens, but then, she couldn’t see herself teaching a classroom full of eight-year-olds again either. Something about becoming a vampire, being hunted, drinking blood, and killing to survive didn�
�t exactly scream classroom appropriate.

  “Science was always my favorite,” Dylan said. “Darlene and Mom have taught me some earth science, and we’ve examined insects and animals, but we can’t do a whole lot down here. I want to learn more.”

  “Have you ever dissected something?” Jack asked before shooting a worried glance at Charlie. He may have overstepped his bounds. She stared warily back at him, but she didn’t tell Dylan to leave again.

  “What would we dissect?” Dylan asked.

  “I don’t know. We’d have to figure that out,” Jack said.

  “How about the rabbit?” Charlie suggested. “Maybe Jack could use that, and you can eat it afterward.”

  “The rabbit will work,” Jack said.

  Charlie rose and wiped off her ass. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Dylan as she approached Jack.

  He walked with her over to the rabbit and lifted its back legs off the ground.

  “Do you really know how to do this?” Charlie asked. “I don’t want him cutting up animals for fun. He should learn something from this.”

  “Cutting up animals isn’t my idea of fun,” he said. “I’ve never dissected a rabbit before, but I’ve done a baby pig, and I can recognize the major organs. He’ll learn something from it.”

  And as much as the idea of dissecting anything made her stomach turn, she strove to give Dylan some semblance of an education while here. “Okay, good.”

  She followed Jack back over to Dylan and handed Jack one of her knives as he settled beside her son. He held the knife while he explained to Dylan what he was doing while carefully cutting the rabbit’s belly open. Their heads bent close together as Jack removed the organs, identifying each one as he worked. Dylan watched with rapt fascination.

  A strange feeling swelled within Charlie as she watched them. Everyone here helped with Dylan and cared for him. She believed his innocence and youth offered them some hope in a world where little existed anymore, but something about seeing Jack with her son touched a part of her she’d believed had been destroyed by Chad’s betrayal. With terrifying clarity, she realized she more than desired Jack; she liked him too.

 

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