The Holy Trinity Trilogy

by Madeline Sheehan

  While exploring the upstairs of a two-story farmhouse, I came across the bedroom of a teenage girl. Dark purple walls, band posters and cheerleading pompoms. The mirror above her dresser was lined with photos of school dances and self-taken shots of her and her girlfriends. A tiny tiara and a pink sash that read “Homecoming Queen” hung over her headboard. Her vanity was covered in makeup, perfume, and every possible color of nail polish. Unfinished math homework was scattered across her purple comforter, beside a pink Dell laptop.

  Her small closet was heavily packed with cutesy tops and pretty dresses, the shelf above it stocked full of shoeboxes and designer purses. I immersed myself in the soft, colorful fabrics, ran my fingers through them, and imagined how they would look on me.

  I picked out several things before sighing and putting them all back. Pretty clothes were useless to me now. I had no one to dress up for and they certainly were not practical. The only items I ended up taking from her bedroom were a pair of black yoga pants, a PINK tee shirt, a light purple hooded sweatshirt, every pair of underwear she had, and a pair of dark brown Uggs. On a whim, I grabbed a stack of her books, all teenage romance novels, and a barely used purple diary. On the inside cover, written in purple cursive was “Property of Kaitlyn Macpherson”.

  I shoved it all inside a Hello Kitty shoulder bag I had pulled from the closet and moved on to the master bedroom. Her father’s clothing was exactly what I had been looking for. I snagged thick cotton socks, fleece-lined flannel shirts, warm sweat pants, a heavy winter coat, scarves, gloves, and even a ski mask.

  Before I left, I stopped back in Kaitlyn's room and grabbed two bottles of purple nail polish. If I were going to be wearing pink flip-flops next summer, I would do it with purple toenails.

  As I stepped off the wraparound porch, a pack of dogs, that at one point had probably been house trained, darted out from behind the garage. They spotted me immediately and slunk forward, teeth bared, ears flattened, and snarling like the fearsome hound of Hades, Cerberus.

  Judging by their exposed ribcages, they were obviously starving. I pulled my gun from the back of my jeans, crouched and aimed for the biggest one, a fat-faced pit bull. With a shot to his head, he went down. Aware of the sudden danger, the others skittered backwards.

  The seven remaining dogs sniffed at their dead friend, all except one, a large golden retriever that had seen better days. His limp made him slower than the others. An infection had set inside his leg and gangrene was quickly eating up the skin and muscle around the wound. I let another bullet fly and took him out.

  “Eat up boys,” I cooed to the dogs as I skirted around them. “Best meal you'll find around here.”

  A few hours later, I was parked in front of a hospital, putting a fresh clip in my gun.

  The sliding emergency room doors were frozen open and I had to push several bloody gurneys out of my way in order to enter. I was barely through the entrance when the strong, rancid stench of decay hit me hard.

  The entire place was a putrid mess. The blood-splattered waiting area was a place of nightmares. A half-rotted body of some poor nurse still wearing her pink scrubs hung haphazardly over the top of the check-in desk. On the floor, in the midst of toppled over chairs and small tables, were more human remains.

  Rats scurried out of my way as I pushed through a doorway labeled “Exam Rooms”, hoping to find a sign that would lead me to the cafeteria.

  The darkness of the hospital engulfed me. Without windows, the corridors were eerily shadowed. Summoning fire to my left hand, my gun clutched in my right, I continued down the hallway, zigzagging my way through broken and bloodied hospital equipment.

  Just as I was about to make a left, I heard small whimpers coming from behind a closed door.

  Carefully, I pushed the lever down and slowly stepped inside the room. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight streaming in from the windows, but when they did, I was unable to contain the shudder of horror that tore through me.

  A child, no more than five or six, had been placed in a straightjacket and shackled to a hospital bed by his neck and feet, presumably before he had turned into a Skin Eater. No human would have been able to bind a Skin Eater; we simply were not strong enough.

  And it was obvious that this particular Skin Eater had not fed. His skin was a sickly shade of gray that sagged off his bones, his eyes sunken in and lined with dark circles, giving him a skeletal appearance.

  The moment he spotted me, he turned feral. Snarling, snapping, and pulling so hard against the chain around his neck that his skin began to tear.

  I had seen a lot in the past months on my own. I had seen things that had kept me awake at night, unable to close my eyes without reliving the experience all over again. However, never had I seen a child Skin Eater. I had figured, since they were small and could be eaten quickly, there would be nothing left of them to turn.

  Yet, here one was. Someone, more than likely his parents, had brought him here, probably to receive medical attention after he had been bitten. But, if he had been here since the devastation had begun and had not eaten at all, how, I wondered, was he still alive?

  He let loose a bloodcurdling scream and thrashed violently within the confines of the jacket. The bed he was on tipped back and forth, threatening to fall over.

  “It hurts!” he screamed shrilly, tears pouring down his tiny face.

  Extinguishing my fire, I approached him with only my gun. Red, wild eyes bored into me. His features tightened and his lips peeled back in a snarl exposing a full set of horrifyingly sharp teeth.

  I aimed the gun at his head and pulled the trigger. Wide, red eyes turned brown and lifeless as he slumped down in his bed.

  After freeing his little body from the restraints, I wrapped him up in his sheets and tucked him into bed. It was the least I could do.

  When I had finished, I sunk to the floor beside him and cried. I had just killed a child.

  A child.

  A little boy who would never have the chance to live. How could this be my life now? I kept waiting to wake up from this nightmare I’d been living in but I never did. And looking up at the little boy I had just killed, I knew I never would.

  ******

  I continued my search for food, following the cafeteria directional signs until a familiar sound brought me up short. From around the bend, horrible slurping and popping noises filled an otherwise silent hall. I recognized it for what it was immediately; the sound of a Skin Eater enjoying its meal is unmistakable.

  Poking my head around the corner I saw a lone male Skin Eater sitting on his knees, tearing apart the insides of what I think had once been a cat.

  Tucking my gun in the back of my jeans, I summoned fire to my hands and stepped into his line of sight.

  His red eyes picked me up immediately. What remained of the cat fell to the floor.

  “Hey,” I said. “How’s it going?”

  “Better now that you’re here,” he growled, grinning at me.

  “I aim to please,” I told him, spreading my arms wide, readying.

  If he had even noticed the fact that my hands were on fire, he obviously did not care. With another growl, he leapt into the air, sharp talons poised and ready to tear into me.

  The flames I threw wrapped around him and he fell to the floor with a thud, deader than dead.

  “How did you idiots take over the entire world so quickly?” I mused aloud.

  “He was an idiot,” a male voice agreed. “But I’m not.”

  I spun around, only to find myself thrown up against the nearest wall. The Skin Eater quickly shifted from his choking grip on my neck to pinning my hands flat against the wall behind me. His body pressed painfully against my own as he bared his fangs at me in the semblance of a grin.

  “You see,” he said, a smug look on his face. “Not an idiot.”

  Fear like I hadn’t felt in quite awhile took hold, freezing me in shock. Without my hands I couldn’t fight him, I was about as powerl
ess as any normal human when faced with these monsters, which was not at all.

  Still gripping my wrists, he leaned in, mouth wide open and ready to take a bite out of my neck.

  I had fought for survival for months now, alone. I’d scavenged for food, stolen numerous vehicles, fought herds of Skin Eaters, and even had to kill a fellow human just to make it through another day...only to have it all end in some small hospital in some small town with no one around to know.

  My scream began deep in my belly, it bubbled up through my chest, and with all the air left in my lungs it exploded up past my throat and out into the air.

  The Skin Eater blew backwards, smashed through the wall, and fell screaming to his death. Windows burst outward in a spray of glass, the floor began to tremble, and plaster rained down around me.

  I cried out in horror as I realized the Skin Eaters hands were still gripping my wrists. Jumping and screaming, I frantically shook my arms, dislodging them.

  A loud crash sounded down the hallway and I spun around and stared at the gaping ceiling and the toilet that had fallen through it. The building continued to shake, more cracks appeared in the floor, and soon the hallway began to split in two. I jumped to my right, just as tile beneath me gave way. I raced down the hallway as ceiling tiles fell from above and steel support beams came crashing through the crumbling walls around me.

  As I ran through the dark hallways, turning right and left, the building suddenly let out a thunderous groan, and tilted to the right. I slid sideways, hitting the wall. Blinding dust billowed from the deteriorating structure, causing me to trip over what I could not see. Scrambling to my feet, I half-hopped, half-crawled my way towards the light of the emergency room exit.

  I had just breached the sliding doors when, with another groan, the exterior of the hospital began to crumble. Bricks poured out from underneath each other in a waterfall of destruction.

  Terrified, I tore through the parking lot; I had just rounded an abandoned ambulance when I crashed to a stop and fell backwards onto the hard cement.

  Confused, I squinted up into the sun and found myself looking into the stunned face of Marko Siwak.

  “Oh...fuck,” he whispered.

  Shrieking, I jumped to my feet and grabbed his arms. “Oh my gods! Where’s Xan? Is he with you? Is he okay?” I asked, looking around wildly.

  Gods, had I finally found him? He had never missed a raid. The thought that he could be close by sent my heart racing. The past few months suddenly meant nothing, had been a small price to pay, if it meant I would be with him again.

  “I’m sorry, Trinity,” Marko said.

  I stared at him, uncomprehending. “What do you mean, you’re sorry? Is he okay?”

  Oh please, please, please, let him be okay!

  “Xan is fine,” Marko said. “But…”

  “But what?”

  “He’s moved on,” he said quickly and averted his eyes.

  I stared at him. “Excuse me? Moved on…to somewhere else? As in, he left the clan?”

  Maybe I could still find him, if Marko told me what direction he had gone.

  “No,” Marko replied firmly. “He’s moved on to another woman. Several other women, actually.”

  I released his arms and took a quick step backwards.

  How could he? It has only been…a few months! How could he do that to me?

  “What other women?” I demanded. “Fifi? Is he back with Fifi?”

  “Go back to Gerik,” Marko said gently. “Forget about Xan.”

  He glanced over at the decimated hospital. “And tell frate to start teaching you some self-control before you end up killing yourself.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I’ll be sure to tell him that if I ever see him again.”

  His eyes went wide. “He’s not with you?”

  “No,” I said bitterly. “He dumped me in the woods near camp and never came back.”

  Looking uncertain, Marko looked away. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “But it doesn’t change anything. You’re dark now and we can’t have you inside of camp.”

  Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked off.

  “What the fuck?” someone shouted. I glanced over my shoulder and found Tobar Popa and Marko locked in battle, shouting at each other in Romanian. Ignoring them, I walked quickly back to my Jeep.

  All because Gerik had dumped his bullshit on me and Xan had moved on, I had lost my home? I swallowed back a wave of panicked sorrow. I couldn't dwell on this now. Winter was coming. I needed more food and more supplies. There would be plenty of time to wallow later.

  As I exited the parking lot, I saw Tobar in my rearview mirror, standing alone, watching me leave.

  Whatever. Screw Tobar. Screw Marko. Screw Xan. Screw Gerik. Screw them all. I did not need Xan, Gerik, or the Popa Clan to survive. I had been doing just fine on my own.

  I was halfway back to the park when I realized I did not have my gun. It was ironic really, that the same gun Xan had given me the last time I’d seen him, I’d lost the day I found out he no longer loved me.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Xan looked across the truck cab at Nico. Frate was being unusually quiet.

  They'd split up from Marko and Tobar halfway through whatever the hell town in Pennsylvania they'd happened upon and were on their way back to the rendezvous point with bags of clothing and canned goods piled high in the truck bed.

  “What's up with you?”

  “Hmm?” Nico took his eyes off the deserted road to glance at him. “What?”

  “You. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Gimme a smoke, will you?”

  He fumbled in his pockets for his pack, pulled two, lit them, and handed one over.

  Nico took several drags before speaking. “It’s Nicu. He’s…I don’t know. Something’s wrong with him.”

  He hadn't heard anything about Nicu, other than the comments Fifi had made.

  “What’s he done?”

  “It’s not what he’s done; it’s the way he looks at people, the things he says. He’s so angry.”

  “Frate, in a short period of time we went from being a wealthy clan, full of happy, healthy people to whatever the fuck we are now. Everyone has lost family members, lost hope, lost their damn minds.”

  “I know…” He cleared his throat, signaling the end of the conversation. They drove another few miles in silence.

  “So…do you think Becki’s recovered from losing Hockey?”

  He gave him a curious glance. “It’s only been a couple of months. Why do you ask?”

  Nico shrugged. “I don’t know… I mean, she’s hot, right?”

  His eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Uh, sure. If you’re into pregnant fete.”

  “I’m not talking about her expanding belly,” Nico snapped. “I’m talking about her!”

  “Whoa frate, calm down,” he said. “You want to know what I think, here it is. Becki is not hot –”

  Nico glared at him and he rolled his eyes.

  “As I was saying, Becki’s not hot; she’s too sweet looking to be considered hot. Surioară is beautiful. Especially naked.”

  Nico had begun to smile but now he was scowling. Damn. Frate really did have a thing for Becki. He supposed weirder things have happened…you know, like people eating people.

  He had not lied about Becki being beautiful. She really was. All smooth, brown skin and dark oval eyes. Her hair was a curly mess, but on Becki, the mess looked good. And if she kept those pregnancy tits…

  “Holy fucking shit,” Nico breathed, taking a left into…what used to be a hospital.

  “Is this the same hospital we were at this morning?” he asked, sitting up straighter. It looked as if an earthquake had singled out this one area, then a twister had come barreling through, picked everything up, circled around, and dumped it all back in the same place.

  Nico pointed to the Emergency Room Entrance indicator, the one thing that had remained standing. “Yep, same hospital.”

/>   “Do you smell that?” he asked, nostrils flaring.

  “Yup. Magic. It’s fucking powerful…probably Tobar.”

  “No… There’s something different about it. I’ve never smelled it before. Take a breath and try to ignore the floral scents and go deeper. It smells almost like…sour sulfur?”

  Nico did as he asked and his eyes went saucer-wide. “Ohhh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “I've smelled it before. Only once.”

  They both looked at each other.

  Before Nico could say anything, he jumped out of the moving truck and ran at full speed, not wanting to waste anymore time talking. If Gerik was here, if Tobar or Marko had seen him, then maybe…

  He slowed. Then maybe what? Gerik would just hand her over to him? Yeah, right. And what if she didn’t want to be handed over? What if she took one look at him and saw what he had been so afraid of her seeing before. That he had never been good enough for her, that he was a bastard with a chip on his shoulder and he destroyed everything he touched. That he had ruined her, that she should have given Gerik her virginity, that she should have married Gerik…that she should have always been with Gerik.

  “Hey,” Tobar called out.

  “Dark magic,” he said, getting straight to the point.

  Sighing, Tobar ran a hand through his greasy, brown hair. It had grown out substantially and now reached his chin. Tobar used to give a shit about his appearance…he had been one of the few in their clan to keep his hair cut short. Like everything else, that too had changed.

  “Yeah…about –”

  “It was like this when we got here,” Marko said, walking up behind Tobar. “Don’t have a clue what happened.”

  He looked quizzically at the two black eyes Marko was sporting. “What happened to you?”

  Marko glared at Tobar. “He did.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Tobar answered. “We had a disagreement.”

  He looked between the two of them and shrugged. “Whatever.”

  He pointed at the hospital. “The magic, it’s gotta be Gerik, right?”

  “Not necessarily, frate,” Nico interjected, having joined them. “The Skin Eater that Gerik fought in the Catskills had dark magic.”