I started the process again. Hours seemed to pass, possibly even days. When I’d feel hopelessness and panic set in, which it seemed to do every so often, I would go to Eden. Time became irrelevant. That’s how it is with the dead.
Sliver after sliver, the board eventually broke down. With my focus entirely on the task, I failed to notice a small piece of earth when it fell to my face–that is until a handful of dirt broke through. I covered my hands over the hole and turned my head to cough out the dirt that had partially fallen inside my mouth. Then, very carefully, I curled my fingers inside the earth and around the rough wood edges.
With all my might, I pulled the board down. It caved under the pressure like a battered melon, crushing my chest. I didn’t have time to gasp for air before dirt began to fill my nose and mouth. I quickly dug my bare heels into the bottom of the casket and pushed up. My arms reached upwards, moving the dirt out of the way. The top part of my body soon became encased by moist earth, making it extremely difficult to move.
I focused on my legs—the only part of me that could still move as they were still partially beneath the unbroken section of the crudely made casket. I wiggled my feet under me, and with my knees bent, I propelled myself toward the surface and my freedom. My hope was that I was in a shallow grave.
My hands broke through to the cool surface above, but just barely. I tried to use my legs, but now they too were encased by the impacted earth. My hands, not far out enough to render any assistance, wiggled uselessly.
The earth’s grip tightened around me like a boa constrictor. I tried to inhale any last remains of air, but dirt rushed into my throat. As my mind burst into dark reds and blacks of impending unconsciousness, I thought of Him. I relaxed my body and pictured the vampire in my mind. I would take him to Eden, I decided. He would fit nicely there.
I was almost to Eden when something took hold of my hand and lifted me out of the collapsed grave. Night air rushed at my face, and I tried to breathe it in but only choked further. A hand clasped my chin and tilted back my head. Cold fingers reached into my mouth and scooped out the majority of the chalky dirt. After several coughs, my lungs finally filled with air.
I struggled to sit up but collapsed to the ground, exhausted. A man’s legs stepped away from me and toward a tree. He appeared to be leaning against it, but I couldn’t be sure as I was too tired to move the matted hair out of my eyes.
I breathed quietly, trying to ascertain my surroundings with what little view I had. I appeared to be in a forest with thick vegetation all around. It must’ve been a full moon because the bright lunar light cast ghostlike shadows all around me. I wondered about the stranger who stood not far from me.
Breaking the silence, the man spoke in a heavy English accent. “That happened to me once.”
Chapter 26
“What?” I asked. The word hurt my raw throat.
“Being buried alive. It was a wretched experience.”
When I said nothing, the stranger spoke again, “My name is Charlie, Alarica.”
I winced at the sound of my former name. “That’s not my name.”
“Then would you be so kind to tell me what your name is?” he asked.
I hesitated, not sure if I should give him my real name. Whoever this was, there was a good chance my parents had sent him to watch over the grave, which meant he already knew my name. “Eve. There is no Alarica.”
“How can I be sure?”
My brows furrowed. Wouldn’t someone sent by my parents know that I didn’t have the necklace anymore? They did put me in this grave, after all. But if we weren’t related, how else could he have found me? I chose not to answer him, but instead asked my own question. “What day is it?”
The man’s jacket scraped against the tree as he lowered himself to the ground. “Tuesday.”
“No, the actual date,” I said.
“April 15th. How long have you been in there?”
I swallowed hard, which made my throat hurt even more. That meant I’d been in that hole for almost two weeks. A wave of nausea washed over me. “How did you find me?”
“Your mother told me—sort of.” He chuckled to himself.
“To save me or kill me?”
“Neither, actually,” he said.
“Then why would she tell you where I’m at?
He hesitated. “She didn’t verbally tell me.”
“I don’t understand.”
Charlie clicked his tongue. “Basically, I read her mind. It took some time and some special convincing, but eventually her thoughts gave your location away. How did they capture you anyway?”
I lifted my hand and swept the hair away from my face, giving me a clear view of Charlie. Even though he was sitting down, I could tell he was tall by the way his crossed legs stretched across the ground. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and had curly brown hair that was long on top and short on the sides. Tight curls dropped below his eyebrows and into his almond shaped, green eyes. He watched me, his expression full of concern.