The picture associated with the article featured six scientists, all in lab coats, and named them from left to right. The scientist quoted in the article and the man in the photo were one and the same. My thoughts shift to my dream spotlighting Harold and Carissa, and it appears that the laboratory coats are the same as in the article; the logo of a quantum symbol and beaker in the background comes into focus.
“Harold and Carissa Croger,” Emily says their names tasting each word with disdain. “Now, more than ever, I think we need to keep an eye on them.”
“Are you listening to yourself? Now more than ever? We should be avoiding them at all cost,” I point out, throwing my hands in the air. “What if they have that stuff? What if they want to change us?” I turn to Andrew, “You have to be with me on this, right?” It’s then we notice the look on Andrew’s face, it’s a combination of thought and bewilderment as if the information makes sense, but it’s unbelievable. “Andrew? Are you okay?”
He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his black hair, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just –,” he struggles to make sense of it. “I just never thought about the possibility of becoming a human again.”
Emily’s eyes widen in astonishment at Andrew’s statement. “Wait. What are you saying, Andrew?”
“I’m not saying anything other than what I just said. It’s just – knowing that option could have possibly existed feels strange.” He stands up to look over the article. Nervously, he laughs, “Well, it’s a good thing the Feasters took over. It sounds like the cure was never finished.” He uses air quotes around the word cure.
“I can’t believe that we are even having this discussion. I mean seriously, Andrew. After all we’ve done for you, you’re honestly entertaining the idea?” Emily stiffens her stance, not because she feels adamant about what she said, but because she realizes what she said could shake our family unit. Still, she doesn’t retract her words.
“What you did for me? I never asked for this.”
“You would have been dead!” Emily argues.
“Still, I never asked for you to change me. I just didn’t want to be alone if, and when, I died.” Andrew himself tightens up, tears welling in his eyes.
I sit back searching for the words to say, but I can’t think of anything. I admit I’m a little taken aback by this whole conversation. Is Andrew really not happy? Emily can be so abrasive sometimes, like tasting something and realizing before it’s too late that it’s hot and scorches your tongue. It stings for a while as a constant reminder to be careful next time. The problem is that Emily doesn’t always learn to be careful. I know she doesn’t mean it, but sometimes she leads with her head in arguments when she should be leading with her heart.
The silence doesn’t last long before she erupts again. “Well, I told you I would have ended it for you that day. I did you a favor,” Emily says, tears now starting to form in her eyes.
“Oh, you did me a favor? Seriously? That’s what you’re going with, Emily?” Andrew stands up, his fist clenched. His eyes meet Emily’s. “I was just saying that I didn’t know that it would ever be possible to go back to being a human, but you know what, after hearing what a charity case I am to you, it may not seem like such a bad idea!” Andrew storms right past Emily, not breaking his gaze, and leaves the room.
The air is sucked out of the room and potentially out of our lives. It’s a few seconds before Emily meets my gaze, tears streaming down her face. “Go ahead,” she says, “tell me how much of an idiot I am. Tell me how I’m wrong for being scared of losing him, of what we have as a family.”
“Oh, Emily,” I go to her and give her what she needs. A hug. She heaves waves of tears into my shoulder. I give her a moment before addressing her concerns. “Emily, look at me.” She lifts her head, the depth of her green eyes drowning in pools of tears. “Look, I’ve always been honest with you even when you think you don’t need to hear it. You were way off base. I know we can’t possibly understand the changes Andrew’s gone through. We’ve seen what he’s become, but we don’t know what that did to him here.” I point to her head. “I guess that it’s something that takes years to get used to physically and mentally. I’m sure reading that article just sparked something in his head. You’ve gotta cut him some slack.”
Shaking her head in agreement, she responds, “Do you think he’ll ever leave us?”
“That will be his choice.” She looks surprised by my answer. “But, no. I don’t think he will leave us. He’s family. But, you know you have to make this right.”
“But how?” she asks.
“Are you really asking? You know that you need to apologize and tell him everything we just talked about. But more than anything else, Em, tell him that you care.”
“Do you think he’ll listen?”
“Yes. Families fight. It happens. Look, let’s give him some time.”
Emily gives me another hug. “Thank you. You always know the right thing to say, even though I may not want to hear it. You’ve always been the glue that holds us together.” Emily says, forcing a smile.
“Let’s get to bed.” Noticing that Andrew’s door is already closed, I smile at Emily. I can tell she wants to knock on his door. “Tomorrow,” I assure her.
Emily’s face sets at a half smile. “Kieran, I love that you’re my cousin.”
I smile back. “Me too. Get some rest.”
Chapter Seven
Not Ourselves
Instead of dreaming, I slept deeply and struggle to wake up. I feel disoriented as I try to pull myself up, but my chest feels like an elephant is sitting on it. When I open my eyes, the room sways back and forth. Normally, I wake up starving, but I’m so sick to my stomach, I debate with myself whether or not I need to throw up, wondering if I have enough strength to even make it to the bathroom. Managing to turn my body, I notice that my whole body aches. I try to get a sense of time. It feels late.
There’s a weak knock at the door. I can’t tell if it’s my imagination or not because as I try to get up, the room spins like a carousel, making me even more nauseated. I drop down in an attempt to anchor myself to the floor. As I manage a slow crawl to the door, the knock comes again. I want to answer, but my throat feels like the desert, dry and gritty. By the time I get there, the knocking comes again. I reach up for the handle and muster enough strength to turn the knob. The door slowly opens. Emily is laying on the carpet. She looks how I feel; exhausted and disoriented. “Emily, are you okay?” I ask, knowing the answer already.
“No, I feel sick,” she groans, her already fair skin looks like freshly fallen snow against her red hair.
“I’m not feeling so hot either,” I whisper. “What happened to us? Was it something we drank? Do you think the animals are sick and we’re feeling the effects?”
“They looked fine to me.” She crawls over and pinches my cheeks. “You don’t look so good.”
“You should talk,” I chuckle weakly. “Do you think you can get up?”
“I think so.”
I notice the shakiness of my legs as we try to help each other stand. I stumble but catch myself against the door. We get to the bathroom and lean over the tub where we store our boiled water. Cautiously, we drink a few handfuls. Emily’s stomach can’t handle it, and she instantaneously heaves it into the toilet. Thank goodness, our plumbing still works even if the water is undrinkable. She flushes and slouches up against the tub. I grab a towel, wet it, and put it on her forehead. “Something’s wrong.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” She laughs weakly. “Have you seen Andrew yet?”
“No, is he feeling the same way?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him yet.”
I help Emily to her feet, and we move to the hallway using the wall for balance. Andrew’s door is open, but he’s not inside. I think about calling out for him but can’t summon enough strength to do it. “Knowing him, he’s probably in the basement trading off between Hutch and the goat. That kid’s got an iron s
tomach.” By the time we get to the stairs, I’m beginning to feel slightly better; tired, but better. Emily still struggles a little, so I put her arm around my shoulder, and we head downstairs. Normally, she would have thrown my arm aside, shrugging off any sign of weakness. So, the fact that she didn’t, tells me she’s feeling horrible.
At the bottom of the stairs, I reach in the drawer for the matches and light some candles. We stumble through the kitchen and reach the basement door. “It’s still locked. I don’t think he’s down there,” I tell Emily. We had to start locking the door because one of our dogs learned to open the door. I’ve got my money on Starsky.
“Go down there and check anyway. You know how that lock has a mind of its own,” Emily says. I turn the knob which pops the lock and head downstairs. The animals are the only ones to greet me. When I head back upstairs, I call out, “Well, he’s not down here.” I close the basement door and it’s then I see Emily, urgency cemented into her face. “Em? What’s the matter?”
“My arrow.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s my arrow.” She points to the wall where her arrow is driven into. Attached to it, a piece of paper with some writing scribbled onto it.
“Please tell me you put that there,” I ask already knowing that she didn’t. She walks around the table and reaches the arrow which is embedded next to the back door. She reads the note silently, her eyes widen. “What does it say?”
Emily reads, “Impressive work at the aqueduct. You left this behind. HC.”
“Do you think that’s the same arrow you shot at that guy on the wall?”
“It has to be. HC? HC,” she chews the letters in her mind.
“Harold Croger?” we ask in unison.
“But how? For this to be here, that means he had to have been in the house. How did we not hear that?” I ask, the question scaring me. Knowing that someone was in the house while we slept chills me to my core.
Emily starts to burn hot. “I told you that guy and his Primadonna of a daughter were bad news. Oh, we are going to take care of them!” She appears to no longer feel the effects of illness.
As Emily vents, my dreams sprint to the forefront of my mind, my eyes scanning them for understanding. “Andrew,” I whisper.
“Speak up,” she demands, yanking the arrow from the wall and turning it over in her hands.
“Andrew.”
“What about him? Where is he anyway?” She scans the room, probably expecting him to walk into the kitchen at any moment.
“I don’t think he’s here.” I bound up the stairs, calling, “Andrew! Andrew!” I run into our rooms and the bathroom. “Andrew!” I know he’s not here, but it doesn’t keep me from my desperation.
“What is going on?” Emily asks confused, trying to catch up to my thinking.
In Andrew’s doorway, I turn to her, concern glossed over my eyes. “Do you remember the dream I had when we were at Harold and Carissa’s house?” Emily nods. “Well, during the dream, there was something about how Carissa was focusing on Andrew that bothered me.”
“Yes, yes! Explain it already.”
“Well, I had another dream the night we got home.” I explained the dream to her and how it was Andrew on the gurney and not me. “I have a feeling that Andrew is in trouble,” I tell her.
“How come you didn’t tell me? Tell us?” Emily stares through me, her face angry that I withheld information.
“I didn’t think it was important since we were now safely home and away from them. Not all my dreams mean something. Sometimes they’re just dreams.”
“This was something you should have shared,” Emily’s glance turns downward, hiding her fear and tears.
“We don’t have time for this right now. I think they took Andrew.” A sick feeling sinks its way into my stomach.
“You mean like kidnapped him? Why would they do that?”
“I’m not sure, but I wonder if it has something to do with Sebastian Labs,” I say running the article through my mind.
“Do you mean the cure?” Emily asks.
My mind searches frantically for answers, “Wouldn’t that make sense? It’s the only reason I can think of.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Do you think they would use the cure? What would they gain by changing him?”
“I don’t know. The article said that they were looking for a cure for people who were changed into a vampire. Harold and Carissa have no idea that he was changed. And…and the second part was to cure vampires, whatever that means.” We stand in silence for a moment, registering the enormousness of our situation. “What bothers me is how did they take him without waking us up?”
“What is this?” She crouches down and picks up a small, beige, rubber tube with a metal clasp on the end.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen that before.”
Emily’s expression changes to the familiar look she gets when she’s feeling the tingles. She brings the tubing to her nose, “It has a sweet smell to it. I have that feeling again. I think this has something to do with why we didn’t wake up or hear anything.”
“The tube? What do you mean?” I ask confused, but I’m sure the answer will horrify me.
“If Harold is connected to Sebastian Labs, he’s probably a scientist, right?”
“So?”
“So? Wouldn’t he know how to knock someone out with chemicals or something?”
“You don’t think they did something like that, do you?” I ask although I realize the idea seems completely plausible.
“They could have placed a tube like this under each of our doors while we slept and pumped our rooms full of some kind of gas that kept us asleep?” Emily rolls the tube in her fingers.
“That would,” I say, “explain why we struggled to wake up this morning.” I make note that I’m feeling better and more awake now. “I felt sick to my stomach, and you threw up.”
Urgency charges back into Emily’s voice, “We have to do something about this. We have to get Andrew! Like, right now!”
Emily and I rush to get ready, dutifully making sure we do all of our checks. Of all our runs, this was one that we certainly didn’t want to be careless. We pack some extra supplies. Normally, we travel light, but we’re up against more than just a herd of Feasters and some strangers. In fact, we don’t know what we’re up against, and more importantly, what they’re capable of. One thing holds true: they’re very dangerous. Emily picks up the aluminum bat and rotates it in her hands, getting a feel of its weight. “Andrew’s gonna need this.” She straps his harness onto her back and slides the bat into place.
Chapter Eight
All Is Lost
“I’ve been thinking,” Emily starts as we move through the kitchen to the back door. “You do know it’s going to take too long to walk back to Harold and Carissa’s house.”
“That’s assuming they’re even there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if they didn’t take Andrew back to their house? What if they brought him to Sebastian Labs?”
Emily’s eyebrow shoots up. “I didn’t think about that. Well, that just supports what I’ve been thinking. Time is not on our side. Or, Andrew’s. Since it’s against us, we’re going to have to find something that will help.”
“Okay,” I say, completely confused. “What do you have in mind?”
Emily dangles a set of keys that she fishes from her coat pocket. “It’s never too late to learn how to drive.”
Normally, I would argue with her whenever she gets one of her crazy ideas, but this one holds merit. “How do we know that the car will even start or has gas or – whatever it is we need to get it going?”
“Leave that to me. You know when I need to get out and have some alone time, I don’t always go foraging in houses to find supplies or hack Feasters. Sometimes, I sit in that car, start her up, and imagine what it would be like to drive on the open road. Just the three of us.”
“You are too much
,” I laugh. “I’m driving,” I joke, knowing full well that it would be over her dead body.
“You wish.” We move to the back door, Emily securing the keys in her hands. Glancing out of the back door window, her confidence changes, “Um, Kieran. We’ve got a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Them,” she points out to the backyard, where a dozen or more Feasters sluggishly walk around in aimless circles.
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