“On my mark. Ready, set, Go!” This last word was followed by a sharp blast of the whistle.
I sprinted forward, grabbing hold of the rope and hauling myself up as fast as I could. I had to maintain my reputation as the best. If I didn’t… I didn’t know what I would do. P.E. was my thing. I was always the best. I pulled myself up one inch at a time, using only my arms because it was faster that way. When I was about halfway up the coach blew his whistle again, bringing us to a stop.
No…
“And we have a winner,” Coach bellowed. Someone was already at the top? No. It wasn’t possible, even for me.
I looked around, expecting to see some jock pumped up with God knows what, but what I saw was a skinny kid just to my right. What?
He beat me??
“Everyone down now – slowly. The new kid wins this one. Second and third places go to Leila and Sam. To the locker rooms.”
I slid down fast, giving myself nasty rope burns, and dropped the last ten feet. I rubbed my hands, wincing a little at the hot pain, and walked as calmly as I could to the locker room. I could feel the others’ eyes on me as I changed and headed to the cafeteria. I sat alone and silent, munching thoughtfully on a turkey sandwich. I thought about the fact that I’d only been halfway up when that boy won and the bread turned to ash in my mouth. Oh, this is ridiculous.
I dropped the sandwich onto the table and cast my eyes around the room. He was sitting in a back corner facing me, away from everyone else and eating nothing. His face wasn’t familiar to me but there was definitely something off about it. He didn’t notice when I stood and walked toward him, he was busy scribbling in a notebook. I opened my mouth then shut it. I honestly couldn’t think of anything to say. I had never started a conversation with a stranger before. I wasn’t even sure why I had gotten up in the first place. He was just compelling somehow.
I left before he saw me and gave me a chance to make a fool out of myself. I’ve just never been much of a talker. The mere thought of awkward forced conversation nearly brought tears to my eyes. I went through the rest of the day without a word, even when the teachers called on me in class. The bus ride home was a long one, giving me time to think. I had been in this town for three weeks now; I was endangering myself by staying so long. Not to mention the fact that everyone here thought I was a transfer student named Leila Montgomery.
This was not the case.
But that kid… He bothered me. I sensed something off about him. I mean, how many average lanky teenagers could climb rope faster than me? I wasn’t tooting my own horn, believe me. I’d been an athletic prodigy since early childhood. Anyone who could beat me had to be training for the Olympics or something else entirely. I was willing to bet on the latter – and I never bet. Maybe I could afford to stay for another few days.
The bus came to a stop suddenly, making everyone bang their heads into the seat in front of them. We all hated the driver, Mrs. Andy. She was a bit of a psychopath when it came to driving. Ironic, considering her chosen profession. I had always wanted to ask someone about that but, like I said, I’m not much of a talker.
And I didn’t want to call any unwanted attention to myself. It was much better if I just stayed invisible. I got my bag ready; this was my stop. As I stood I became aware of a strange tingling sound like bells chiming. I looked around and saw the skinny kid a few seats up. He was obviously avoiding my gaze but kept looking in my direction. Our eyes met and I swear his changed color for a fraction of a second. He blushed and my eyelids sagged. What…?
I snapped out of it, rushing to the front before the doors closed. I almost tripped going down the stairs but caught myself just in time. Damn, I was having an off day. First the P.E. thing and now this. I was getting rusty. I jogged the rest of the way home to clear my head.
Home, sweet home. A motel not far from the school that allowed me to pay cash only. Perfect for me. But I was running out of cash – I'd already resorted to using my backup credit card. I had to move out soon. It was a shame, really. The manager was actually pretty nice and the room was clean enough that I didn’t have to worry about roaches. It was a nice change. The last place I’d stayed in that was even close to this was in Arkansas.
Arkansas. There were no hunters there. Only me. And only one case. But it had been a tough one. A few hunters had been mauled in the woods near a small town. I had known from the beginning it was the work of a shifter. Unfortunately the shifter happened to be a sweet kid who wasn’t even aware that she’d been bitten. She hadn’t been more than a week out of middle school.
A car honked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I slept fitfully, seeing that girl’s face whenever I shut my eyes, hearing her sobs when I pulled out the knife.
*
*
I leaped out of bed, pulled a silver-bullet gun from under my pillow, and crouched just next to the window all in one move. Someone was at the door. I couldn't hear or see them, but I felt their presence. Which was weird, I know. But this was what I was trained for. I waited for him or her to knock. Maybe it's the manager.
He (or she) knocked. I tensed, getting ready to move at any moment. "Hello?" The voice of the manager, Mr. Simkins, called out. "Miss Montgomery."
I let out the breath I'd been holding, taking my finger off the trigger. Thank goodness. I didn't feel like shooting someone in the face in my PJs. It can really ruin your day. Especially when it's in a public place like this. "Miss Montgomery?"
I straightened my stance, stuffing the gun under my pillow before he looked through the window. "Hold on, Mr. Simkins," I said, slurring my words to make it look like I'd just woken up. After messing up my hair the effect was complete. I unlocked and opened the door, leaning heavily on the frame and squinting at the sudden brightness of the morning. "Morning."
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm sorry to wake you, Miss Leila, but it's time to pay for the room." He scratched his temple, where a thin scar stretched from the hairline to the cheek. I wondered how he got it but figured it would be rude to ask. I could tell he was embarrassed by it so I always made a point to look him directly in the eyes.
I nodded and went to my bag for a credit card, slightly dragging my feet. "Do you know what time it is?"
"Eight o'clock on the dot, as usual." He was never a second too late. He was the only reason why I was on time for school every day.
"How long have I been here, Mr. Simkins?"
"Please call me Tom, Miss," he said.
"I'll call you Tom when you stop calling me 'Miss Montgomery'."
He smiled shyly. He really was a sweet guy. "You've been here for almost three weeks, Miss."
"Right," I said, handing him the card. I knew there was just enough money on that thing to get me through today.
He started to move on to the next occupied room but paused. "Miss? When you first got here, you told me this was your uncle's credit card."
"Yes," I lied.
"I was wondering, does he know how you're living? That you're sleeping in motels?"
"Of course."
He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "It's just.... Well, if it were my niece, I wouldn't let her stay like this. Not that there is anything wrong with it, I mean. You're just so young, and there are some strange people at motels."
I grinned. "I can take care of myself," I said, thinking of the loaded weapon which happened to point directly at us from under that pillow.
He pursed his lips and nodded, obviously not satisfied. "Okay then. Have a nice day."
I was sad to see him go. After eight years on the road, I relished the chance to talk to someone I actually enjoyed being around. Closing the door, I showered and packed my stuff. When Tom gave me my card back, it would be the last time I would see him; This was the last day I would go to this school. I had to move on--I'd taken care of those sorcerers a week ago. If I stayed any longer I'd risk exposing myself. To who? To anyone who was looking for me. I'd had my run-ins with the local cops before.
After brushing my teeth I loaded a glock-19 with silver rounds and tucked it into the back of my jeans. If I wore a loose t-shirt no one would notice it. Why all of these silver bullets, you ask? Because silver is the most common thing that can kill a monster. Shifters, vamps, sorcerers--sorcerers can be killed with a shot to the head but if the bullet ain't silver another sorcerer can bring them back. I know, it's a pain.
As I walked outside I found myself wondering why Tom was so worried about me. I mean, it wasn't like I'd known him for very long. Maybe it was just in his nature to care for people. Which made me feel a thousand times worse about giving him a stolen credit card. Of course, I could just tell him the truth. I'm sure he would understand. And then laugh in my face and say I'm crazy.
It was better if he stayed unaware. People who were unaware were less likely to get hurt.
Tom returned and handed me the card. I smiled a quick thanks and was off. I only had ten minutes to get to the bus stop. Luckily it was a seven-minute jog from here.
*
*
The bus ride was the same as always: Stuffed with half-asleep teens trying in vain to finish last night's homework. To be honest, I hadn't even done my homework. I never really saw the point of it. Did the teachers get off on you having to do more work than was necessary? One of those days I was going to ask a teacher that.
The bus halted, shoving me forward and banging my head on the seat in front of me ever-so-gracefully. The doors groaned open and that skinny kid climbed in, taking the seat next to mine. He and I looked like the only people who were fully awake--including Ms. Andy. I really was second-guessing getting on this death trap of a vehicle.
As soon as his bony ass hit the seat he looked in my direction. It was almost like he was begging me to look back. I kept my gaze averted. For some reason he had noticed me, and I didn't want to encourage his sudden interest. Not two seconds after I looked away, I became aware of a sweet smell. I swear it smelled just like honey. It was familiar, somehow... And then I realized that I had smelled honey the day before, in gym and on the bus.
It was him. It had to be. You might dismiss it as some kind of cologne but it was more. I don't know how to explain it, but it was more than a smell--it was a taste; a touch. A sixth sense that I wasn't aware of. It felt like... him. Like if I were to look at his soul, his spirit, it would be like honey. I could taste it in the back of my throat.
I looked at him and he smiled. I felt heat rising to my cheeks. What the hell?
I had never been this way in front of a guy before. Something was up. Something not right. I know strange--and this was strange. People like me aren't supposed to be able to sense someone's spirit. My instincts were right. I had to check this guy out.
"You smell weird." That was the first thing I said to him. And it was on the bus ride home. I hadn't gotten a chance to speak to him before now. Alright, I was a coward. I had put it off until the last possible moment. When I spotted him sitting down I flitted down the isle and crashed heavily onto the seat before anyone else could take it. And then I insulted him.
He took a moment to respond, but when he did it was the word of a genius. "Okay."
"Like honey."
"I wasn't aware that honey is weird." Well. At least this wasn't awkward.
"What's your name, honey-boy?" I figured the best path was intimidation. When people are threatened they talk more and tend to slip up.
"I kind of like honey-boy, but Adrien works just as well," he responded, holding out his hand. I stared at it deliberately until he put it down. "Who are you?"
"That's none of your concern."
"And here I thought you were asking to be my friend."
I rolled my eyes. "I don't need friends. They slow you down."
"That's bleak," he said, frowning.
"That's life."
We sat in silence for a while.
"Then why did you sit here?"
"I--I wanted to talk to you," I admitted.
"Well, you've got my attention. What did you want to talk about?"
I leaned back, trying to get some room to think. His scent was starting to irritate my nose. So far I hadn't seen anything that would make him suspicious. He seemed normal, apart from that damned smell. I had to make sure. If he really was a monster, if I pushed him hard enough, the claws would come out. Eventually. But I didn't have time for eventually. I was leaving after I got off of the bus. I had to know, now.
My answer came immediately: I slammed once again into the seat in front of me as the bus came to a grinding stop.
And Adrien stayed perfectly still. Ms. Andy's reckless driving had no effect on him.
Which, of course, was absolutely impossible. Even if he was the most well-balanced person on the planet, he couldn't escape the force of--what was it? Inertia. It was a scientifically proven fact. And in my experience only something supernatural could escape the laws of physics.
All of my awkwardness flowed out, replaced with an ice cold attitude. Now that my suspicions had been confirmed, I was all business. Well, more or less. I had to keep him talking until we got to his stop.
As the bus peeled away again Adrien narrowed his eyes. "Wasn't that your stop?"
"Not today," I said.
"And why not?"
"Because we're not done talking," I said matter-of-factly.
"Then how are you going to get home?" he wondered.
I rolled my eyes. "I have legs, you know." He sat back, looking me over. I guess he was trying to make sure I wasn't weird. Too late, buddy.
"I assume you'd like to talk about more than this," he said.
"You assume correctly." I don't know why, but I was sort of enjoying this. Usually forced conversation is painful but with him it was... easier, I suppose. Not that I liked him. He still wasn't human.
A long and uncomfortable silence took place as we waited for his stop. Gradually the others got to their stops, leaving us alone. Which was swell. I would just love to take one of the many free seats and ignore Adrien until his stop. But no. I had to keep my freaking eyes on him so he didn't try to escape. Work can be tiring.
Suddenly the bus swerved onto a side road then turned onto a hidden dirt road. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades; Even Adrien couldn't keep from bumping around like an idiot.
"What the hell--?" I muttered, looking at Ms. Andy, who acted as if nothing was wrong. I turned to Adrien. "You don't happen to live down here, do you?" I hoped he did. Because if he didn't something was seriously wrong here.
He shook his head. Once again I looked at Ms. Andy, just in time to see her look into the mirror and grin at me. And for that fraction of a second, I saw fangs protruding from her mouth.
Oh, of course, I thought. Something just had to go wrong. As if my current predicament with honey-boy wasn't enough to keep me busy.
I turned away from Adrien and propelled myself at the next seat as fast as my body would go. In midair I raised my arm and, upon impact, shattered the window with my elbow. A few pieces of glass dug in, which would hurt later, but I paid them no mind. I grabbed Adrien--who sat stunned--and hauled him through the window. I immediately followed, landing hard on branches and twigs. Adrien was luckier than me; He had landed on a soft pile of leaves.
Figures, I thought. I save his ass and he gets the soft pile.
I stifled my aggravation, knowing we had more troubling things to deal with at the moment. Like a bus driver who was suddenly hell-bent on eating us.
How did I know she was a long-pig-lover? Because of her teeth. They were sharp and stained red from previous victims. Which is just lovely, let me tell you.
Speak of the devil. The bus was stopping. The doors were opening. And for the main course, Ms. Andy stepped out fully transformed. Long arms and legs, parchment-like skin. Dead eyes. Terribly thin; I could see her bones protruding at the joints. And her eyes were aimed directly at me.
Just as she started shuffling toward me, Adrien popped into view. He was screaming at me, something about me being a crazy psycho bitch and him suing. Great, another mess to deal with.
"Move!" I shouted, pushing him behind me. I whipped out the glock-19 and fired off a couple of rounds, scaring the ever-loving shit out of honey-boy. I wanted to look back and make sure he wasn't running away but I wasn't about to take my eyes off of that thing. It hadn't even faltered when the bullets made contact. Which meant this thing was a vampire. An old and powerful one.
"Shit..." I muttered, pulling a silver dagger out of the back of my shoe.
I ran straight at the thing, leaping into the air and raising the knife. I almost didn't see it start to duck but I realized just in time. It was planning on clawing me as I sailed over it but I was faster. I shifted my stance so I knocked it down. When I came down I was already crouching and stabbing. It was a messy affair, showering me with brownish blood while the thing writhed underneath me. It took ten cuts to make it stop, severing the head completely, and by then I was soaked.
I stood up, wiping my face and making sure none of the blood had gotten into my mouth. If I had swallowed some I would have turned into one.
Then I noticed Adrien. He was on his hands and knees, pale and breathing heavily. His eyes never left the rotting corpse, not until he heard me fiddle with the gun and put the safety back on. Then he stared at me like I was gonna shoot him. I noticed that the honey essence was ebbing and flowing with his every breath. Something was definitely different with this kid, I just wasn't sure he knew it. So far he was acting the same way any other human would if put in a similar situation.
I came to a decision. "Get up," I said, nudging him with my foot.
"Where'd you get those?" he asked, looking at the weapons.
"Santa gave 'em to me," I replied nonchalantly.
He looked at the bloody mess of bones and skin as he slowly stood up and said, "What is that thing?"
"Judging from its reaction to silver, I'd say it's a vamp," I answered as I wiped the blade on my jeans and slipped it back into my shoe.
“Vamp. As in--”
“Vampire, yes.” There was a long pause.
“Right...”
“If you don't believe me, then what do you think that creature is?” I said.
“Some figment of my imagination?” he said hopefully.
“Then why can I see it? Am I just a 'figment of your imagination' too?”
He didn't have an answer for that.
“Look,” I said, surveying the area for any other possible threats. “You're not going to like this, but you have to come with me.”
“What? Why?” His voice cracked a little at the end.
“Because,” I said, “old vamps don't just attack random people. They never go for minors. It can't be a coincidence that she attacked the day after you got here.”
“It—it could have been after you! You're the one with a gun.” I sighed. I didn't have the time or patience for this.
I socked him in the jaw and he crumpled to the ground. Hmm. That was easy. It hadn't even been a hard punch.
*
*
As I leaned back in the driver’s seat of my faded green pickup truck, a thought occurred to me: Adrien’s snoring was worse than the vampire. He was sprawled across the back seat, emitting a noise that was similar in volume to that of a lion’s roar. Every time I had tried to drown it out by turning the radio up, he seemed to get louder, so I had just resigned myself to the fact that it was inescapable. Knocking Adrien unconscious had been easy enough, but getting him back to the motel was another story. Although he had the physique of a fourteen-year-old, he was as heavy as a man twice his size, and I’m small for my age.
And then there was the matter of actually getting him to the motel. All I had to work with a freaking school bus, and those things are hard to steer and have terrible brakes. In the hands of a sixteen-year-old still under the effects of heavy adrenaline, it was a giant metal death trap. The whole drive back I was praying to whatever god there was that I wouldn’t be pulled over. But we made it in one piece, and that was all that mattered.
I glanced at him occasionally through the rear-view mirror, wondering what I would do when he woke up. Then I would shake it off, and leave that problem for later. What I had to focus on now was leaving this city, maybe even this state. Getting from Point A to Point B, even if Point B was a gas station motel overridden with fleas and potentially harmful bacteria. The other problems could wait until then.
I did my best to make sure we weren’t being followed, using old side roads and doubling back to access another route every fifteen minutes or so. I also kept an eye out for any cops; I had managed to get most of the blood off of my face, but it still covered me from the neck down, and that wouldn’t exactly go over well with the fuzz. Not to mention the unconscious minor in the backseat. And the arsenal in the back. Yeah. Not very good icebreakers.
The sun was starting to set when I turned onto a particularly unkempt road. The honey essence was stronger than ever. I should have noticed the change, but at the time, with adrenaline coursing through my veins and blood pumping in my ears and the ever-present fear of being followed, I wasn’t exactly in the clearest mindset.
That being the case, what happened next was not my fault.
Adrien popped up like a jack-in-the-box and let loose a screech that could have raised the dead. I almost crashed the damn truck.
We swerved violently off the road, followed by a succession of alarmed honks from the traffic behind us. “Shit!” I screamed and let go of the steering wheel—I had lost control of the car entirely. I pumped the brakes and attempted to keep the car from going any further off the road. Meanwhile Adrien was still screaming his head off and we were being knocked around in every sense, heads banging against the roof, elbows hitting the windows. I think my face hit the steering wheel at one point, because suddenly my nose was bleeding like a faucet. By the time we coasted to a stop, we were a complete mess.
As soon as it was safe to let go of the wheel, I spun around and angrily slapped whatever parts of him I could reach. “You fucking idiot! What the hell were you thinking?”
“I don’t—ahh!—I don’t know! I woke up—ow!—in a goddamn truck, how the hell am I supposed to react?” he spat, wiping a bit of blood from his mouth. His lip was split down the side and gushing blood. He started whining about it, took one look at my nose, then clamped up. “Where are we? What are you gonna do with me?” He reminded me of a dog you would find in the pound: mad and scared out of his mind. And who could blame him? He had been tossed out of a moving school bus, attacked by an elder vamp, knocked unconscious, and awakened in a stranger’s truck going God knows where. A little anger was understandable.
But still. Anyone with common sense knows not to terrify the driver.
“Jesus,” I muttered, shifting the gear to Park. I rested my head on the steering wheel and closed my eyes. Sleep sounded really good right about then but I almost certainly had a concussion, so naptime just wasn’t in the cards.
“Well?” Adrien persisted. “What’s gonna happen to me? Are—Are you gonna kill me? I haven’t done anything to you. I won’t tell anyone about this. I swear!” His eyes were darting from side to side, probably looking for a gun.
“Relax, honey-boy.” I sighed. “You’re safe—for now. I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“An elder vampire won’t attack just anyone. There’s something strange going on with you.”
“With me? You pushed me out of a bus! If anybody’s the strange one it’s you,” he huffed and punched the back of my seat. I let him get it out of his system, wishing I could throw a fit too. But I had to be the rational one.
“Look. I can’t just let you go home. Not now. You’ve seen too much and you’ll tell somebody. You say you won’t but you will. Whether it’s your parents, your siblings, or your friends, you’ll let it slip somehow. And us hunters are the ones who will have to deal with that. People can’t find out about the Netherworld. They just can’t. Not to mention the fact that everyone would think you’re crazy.
“And let’s say you can keep a secret. Good for you. But still you’d still be in danger. One person can’t fend off the Netherworld for long. And I can guarantee they know about you. Once one catches your scent, they all do. It’s just a matter of time. I’m sorry, Adrien, but you can’t go home. Not yet."
Texte: I claim no rights to the cover picture, I found it on Google.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 14.09.2011
Alle Rechte vorbehalten