She nodded. “I’ll see if anything is cooking. Meet you downstairs.”
She left me in the room; and though I was tempted to take my time, I slipped from the bed. Like Mary, I neatly remade it. Then I stripped from the clothes I’d slept in. They weren’t pajamas, but it kept the bed clean if I slept in a clean set of clothes. I set them on the top shelf in the dresser and looked at what was left. One clean pair of pants. I’d need to do some laundry or start rewearing things from the small pile of dirty clothes beside the dresser.
I reached for the pants and tugged them on. As I did up the button, my door creaked open. I turned, expecting to see Mary.
A man stood in the doorway. He was shaggy, a little dirty, unfamiliar, and staring at me as I stood there in my bra. My eyes bugged, and I quickly folded my arms across my chest. I opened my mouth to tell him to leave but didn’t get anything out.
He moved in a blur, knocking me backward. My breath whooshed out of me as I landed on my bed. He fell with me, pinning my crossed arms between us.
Before I could register what was happening, he reached up, fisted his hand in my hair, and pulled my head to the side. The move exposed my neck. Fear gripped me. A desperate cry ripped from me, and I bucked under him. He darted forward, his mouth opened.
“No!” I wailed as his teeth pierced me. Distantly, I wondered what had happened to Winifred’s promise.
He bit hard. It was as if he thought his Claim would have a better chance of sticking the deeper his teeth sank. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I did the only thing I had left.
Instead of trying to grab his will, my will surged from me, a thick unyielding cane comprised of a single thought: Get off me. I hit him right between the eyes with it. To my shock and pain, he flew backward, his teeth ripping from my skin. I gasped and whimpered as he hit the dresser with a crash.
My shaking hand automatically went to my neck, trying to ease the pain there. I was making weird noises that I couldn’t seem to stop. The man stirred.
My door crashed open, and Winifred flew in. Her eyes widened at the sight of me on the bed.
She didn’t pause to address the man but came to me and gently lifted my hand. I focused on her, desperate for someone to help make the pain stop.
“Mary, your sheets,” she said.
There was a slight rustle, and Mary appeared at Winifred’s shoulder with the sheet from her bed. Winifred grabbed it and pressed the material against my neck. Something crunched sickeningly.
God, he broke me. I struggled to think past the pain.
It took a moment to realize the sound hadn’t come from me. My eyes wandered a bit, and I saw Thomas, his face twisted in anger. He had a hand wrapped around the throat of the man who’d bitten me. He opened his grasp and dropped him. The man’s head lolled on his shoulders, his eyes open and vacant.
“Thomas, we need to get her to a hospital,” Winifred said.
I shifted my attention back to her worried face. She didn’t meet my eyes but focused on the sheet she held to my neck. That scared me.
Thomas moved closer and stared down at me.
“They will ask questions,” he said softly.
“I know.”
They shared a look. I sobbed a little. They were going to let me die to keep their secret. I wanted to tell them they didn’t need to worry, but I couldn’t talk. My throat didn’t want to work.
“I’ll carry her,” he said. Surprise and relief made me sob again.
Winifred nodded.
“Mary, hold the cloth. Keep moderate pressure on it. I’ll get the truck.”
“Truck?” Mary said, bending to take over.
“We can’t run with her. It would hurt her more. The truck is the best option we have.”
Thomas picked me up, holding me gently. Mary walked with him, keeping pressure on my neck.
“Stay with me, Charlene,” he whispered as we moved.
If they would just stop biting me...
Voices pulled me from the dark place. My neck hurt so much my eyes watered; the sensation of those tears trickling down my cheeks woke me further. I was lying flat but felt like I was moving.
“...animal attack...”
“...form of ID...”
The conversation danced around me, and I couldn’t focus fully enough to understand it.
“Help me,” I rasped.
A hand gently touched my shoulder.
“We’re going to fix you up, honey,” a strange voice said. “Can you open your eyes?”
I tried and couldn’t quite manage. Was I dying? I thought of my mom and her request to call her when I could. Would she have to live the rest of her life never knowing what became of me?
“Help me.” Tears and my torn throat made it hard to speak.
“We are, honey. Can you tell us your name?”