by Dave Ferraro
I clung to the fence, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dark while keeping one palm pressed flat against the cool metal, as if to ground myself to the world I was about to leave behind.
You can do this, Sloane. You have to, for your brother.
“For Orion,” I whispered.
Heavy footsteps along the other side of the fence told me I didn’t have time to linger. I ran without looking back.
My pupils had dilated enough for me to see clearly, and the pale moonlight bathed everything in a ghastly red light. I knew where I was – the neighborhood I grew up in. The same place I had once called home, where pedestrians were mercilessly killed in drive-by shootings at night and where gang members once reigned supreme. A little more than three blocks to the north was my old house, the only home my father could afford on his meager wages from the textile factory. Life here was sometimes brutal, but as long as he and Orion were in my life, it didn’t matter because I knew they would never let anything happen to me.
Now they’re both gone, one because of you.
No matter how hard I tried to suppress it, my guilt always remained buried just beneath the surface, threatening to overtake my confidence and pride at any time. Some days I was willing to let it, but I knew I had to hang on long enough to find my brother, if he was still alive. I couldn’t – wouldn’t – give up without knowing I had done everything I could to try to bring Orion back home.
Though I tried my best to watch my footing and move as stealthily as I could, there was so much debris – empty aluminum cans, shards of glass, broken furniture… all dropped by people in their haste to evacuate – littered along the ground that I couldn’t help but tap or stomp on something as I went. I chanced a glance behind me, sure I’d see the blood red uniforms of the Scarlet Guard closing in, but there were nothing but abandoned, run-down houses, many with bars on the windows, and the windshields of rusty, unused cars staring back at me.
Staring at the ruin around me, it was like reliving the Eclipse again. The worst part was, nobody ever saw it coming. Sure, the government was prepared for terrorists’ attacks, natural disasters, and even nuclear war, but no one quite knew what to do when vampires descended upon our cities like ants, viciously killing and eating anything that moved.
There were signs along the way, leading up to that horrible night. Missing posters of children, adults, and animals alike started springing up, becoming more and more frequent until entire blocks were plastered in the faces of missing loved ones. Reports of red-eyed, shadowy creatures dominated the news and magazines. Everybody was convinced it was an elaborate hoax, something dreamt up by a group of teenagers somewhere who wanted to get a good scare out of people around Halloween.
I wished so badly it had been a prank. But on All Hallow’s Eve, my life became something out of a horror film. That night was still fresh on my mind, even three years later:
I rushed home from the Miller Mansion, drenched in Orion’s blood and hysterical. I threw the black Camaro into park before I’d even fully stopped, nearly tripping as I raced toward our front door. That’s when the sirens went off. Confused, I whirled around, seeing people fleeing their homes. Those with cars tossed as many possessions as they could carry into the trunk and sped off as fast as they could. Others ran in all directions, their faces panicked and afraid. A door slammed behind me and my father sprang from the front porch. He glanced at the Camaro, confused, before grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me hard.
“Where is your brother, princess? Where is Orion?” he asked, a wild, desperate look in his eyes.
I stupidly sputtered something about a monster, too choked up on my own tears to make much sense. Somewhere down the block, people began screaming, followed by snarls that made me ice cold with fear.
“Get in my car, Sloane! Now!” my father ordered, and I ran in a daze to his beat-up Toyota Camry, which was parallel-parked along the curb in front of the Camaro. We locked ourselves inside, and my father started the engine, switching gears and slamming his foot on the gas. I was thrown back against the seat as we rocketed down the street.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
My father’s face was pale, his eyes glued to the road.
“The end of the world,” he whispered.
I furrowed my brows, too scared to ask any questions. Movement caught the corner of my eye, in the side mirror.
A group of people scattered and shrieked as dark creatures with glowing red eyes and sets of flashing fangs ripped them apart, wildly lapping up the growing pool of blood on the street. All I could do was watch as we turned a corner and sped toward downtown Pittsburgh (where a heavily guarded shelter was being set up), my neighbors’ desperate pleas for help giving way to growls and eerie silence.
I blinked hard, pulling myself back to the present. A sickly yellow school bus sat in the middle of an intersection, limping on two deflated tires. As I crept alongside it, keeping to its shadow, I caught the outline of a black form moving above me, its hunkered shape slinking along the top of the bus like a cat hunting a mouse.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I wheeled around, cocking the pistol, only to find nothing, no nightmarish creature waiting to pounce.
My breath grew more ragged as my heart rate sped up, throbbing painfully inside my ears until it was the only sound I heard. In the windows of the bus, my reflection was still aiming the pistol at the roof of the vehicle. Shadows were at my back, save for a flash of crimson eyes.
I drew a sharp breath and dropped to the ground, spinning around on the balls of my feet as the vampire lunged out of the darkness, a rabid snarl erupting from its oversized throat. The gunshot was silent as death, and time seemed to slow as the vampire changed direction at the last second before the bullet hit, tearing a bright red gash into its bared rib cage. The vampire sailed over me, and I followed its path with the pistol, firing again as the creature shrieked and hit the ground. Quick as a shadow, it scuttled out of the way before the bullet hit home, missing its head and blowing a hole in its side, spraying the ground with black blood. The vampire latched itself on the side of the bus, crawling over the roof like a spider before disappearing from view.
I cursed and went after it, the Scarlet Dagger shining brilliant crimson in the moonlight as I unsheathed and raised it into a defensive position, gripping the pistol in my other hand. My forefinger jittered against the trigger as I paused at the end of the bus, using the dagger as a mirror to see the other side. Only dirt and a scattering of MISSING CHILD posters lay next to the bus.
Each breath I took made my whole body shake, and I willed my heartbeat to slow as sweat dripped from my forehead onto my chest. Something rapidly clucked its tongue a few feet from me, making a low guttural noise, and I pointed the pistol at the darkness, not seeing anything. A bead of sweat dropped into my eye, and I swiped at it as my vision blurred. I glanced at my hand and did a double take, rubbing the sweat drop between my thumb and forefinger. It was warm, and much thicker than it should be.
It was also deep red.
Later, I would be grateful I saw that drop of blood, because it was the only warning I had before the vampire tackled me from the top of the bus, catching me off guard and throwing me to the ground. I landed hard on my back, giving my lungs a jolt as the breath was knocked from me. While I lost hold of the pistol, I managed to bring the dagger up swift enough to block the vampire’s gaping jaws. The creature wasn’t very heavy – little more than sagging, purplish skin and fragile bone – but its speed was nearly too quick for my seemingly sluggish human reflexes, and it was all I could do to keep it at bay as it scratched at my arms and snapped its razor sharp teeth at my neck.
I grunted, struggling against the vampire.
Think about what Leo taught you. Look for the opportunity to strike to present itself.
I waited, conserving my energy for what I hoped against hope would be a fatal blow to the monster on top of me. Gazing at its narrow, sunken face – a face that might have very wel
l once been human – churned up memories of my brother, of his happy, jester-like smile, intermingled with his screams of terror as a vampire very much like this one sank its teeth into his flesh.
Rage, hot and bitter, flooded my body, consuming me like a wild fire laying siege to a forest. Loathing filled my eyes, which had morphed into dangerous slits. At last, the vampire swiped, losing its balance for a splinter of a second and creating a narrow path from the tip of my blade to its sternum. With a bloodthirsty roar, I plunged the blade deep into the creature’s chest, feeling the steel tear and snap its way through bones, muscles, and tendons until only the hilt showed, my hands gripping it so tightly my knuckles had turned white.
Almost immediately, the vampire stopped moving, its wild eyes frantic with growing pain and confusion as it stared at the blade in its chest. Subconsciously, my lips twisted into a carnivorous smile.
Gotcha.
I raised my knees, digging the heels of my boots into the vampire’s stomach, and pushed with my legs, pulling back on the dagger. It at last freed itself of the creature and I fell back, rolling along my shoulder blade as I sprang up into a defensive position, my knees bent and the dagger poised over my head, dripping blood.
The vampire shuddered and grew still as winter before it began screaming madly. The wound, which ran clear from one side to the other, was starting to smoke as the vampire’s dead skin eroded away, dripping to the ground in smoldering black gobs as it clawed at its chest, literally tearing itself to shreds.
I stared at it, part in awe, part in grim satisfaction, as its muscles and bones glowed orange-red like embers before what was left of the vampire disintegrated into a pile of ash.
My knees shook so hard I nearly collapsed. Clutching my stomach, I doubled over and vomited, catching a few shaky breaths before standing and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, which still trembled from the tidal wave of adrenaline flowing through my body. I took a deep breath and tasted the bitter, charred smell of the vampire, nearly gagging all over again.
I blinked hard, trying to clear my erratic thoughts so I could focus. The Scarlet Guard no doubt heard the vampire’s ear-piercing screams – hell, the capital probably heard that – and if I still wanted a shot at finding any clues to my brother’s whereabouts, I was going to have to keep moving, and fast.
I jogged the few feet to where my pistol rested and retrieved it. Then I scraped the rest of the vampire’s blood from the dagger, making sure the edge was clear of any obstructions, before sheathing it and taking off at a shaky but steady sprint.