The Reaping

CHAPTER FIFTEEN





For a minute, I actually doubted my eyes. I squeezed them shut and prayed that the runner and the girl would disappear. But when I opened my eyes again, she was still bent over the man, feeding on him. Above her soft mewling sounds, I could hear wet slurps and sucking noises. My stomach growled sickeningly and my throat burned, hot and dry, like I’d swallowed fiery ash.

And then they were gone. They disappeared right before my eyes. I looked at the empty ground where the runner had lain only seconds before. There was no blood, no flattened grass, no disturbed dirt, no nothing. It was as if I’d imagined the whole thing.

Only I knew that I hadn’t. I had actually seen that man get killed and then fed upon. It was real. I was certain of it. I could feel it. But where was he? Who was he?

Shaken, I hurried back to the hotel. As soon as I was ensconced in the privacy of my room, I punched my home number into the cell phone. Then, as my thumb hovered over the green call button, indecision struck me.

My first instinct had been to call Derek, but that action was fraught with consequences, consequences that I wasn’t ready to deal with yet. Reminding myself that I am smart and capable, I hit the disconnect button. I was going to figure this out on my own. Once I found out the identity of the man, it would surely lead me to some explanation as to why I was seeing the girl from the Darkness feeding off his blood.

I spent the rest of the evening scouring the news channels for local deaths and tales of tragedy. Though there were many gruesome stories, none detailed a man hit and killed while jogging.

I walked down to the lobby for a newspaper, thinking there might be a small chance I was witnessing something that happened yesterday or the day before, but there was nothing.

Reclining on the bed, I dialed Mr. Allsley’s number once more, but got his voice mail again. This time I didn’t leave a message.

I flipped to another local news channel and settled in to watch television until I heard from Mr. Allsley. I was kind of stuck until I could reach him.

I must’ve drifted off to sleep, but I woke quickly when I heard a man’s voice saying something about a local man by the name of Byron Allsley. I blinked my bleary eyes at the television and saw a reporter standing alongside some railroad tracks.

“…Investigators believe that Allsley was out for his daily run when the train came upon him. A spokesperson from United Railway denies any knowledge of the dysfunctional warning system at this crossing, stating that all the quarterly diagnostic reports for this location checked out.

Allsleywas reported missing last night by his wife of nineteen years, Alicia Gaither Allsley, who has refused to comment at this time on whether or not the family will be seeking any kind of settlement from the railway…”

His words faded into the background when the screen switched to a picture of Mr. Allsley. My heart stuck in my throat as I looked at the handsome, olive-skinned face of the jogger I’d seen get crushed and eaten that afternoon.

Find Byron Allsley first.

I had thought I was supposed to find Byron Allsley first, as in before I went in search of my sister, but what if I was supposed to find him first, as in before someone else did, someone like the girl from the shadows? And why was she out of the shadows?

I thought of her, how much she looked like me and why I was seeing her. Was she really my sister or…someone, something else? Why was I linked to her? I mean, there was no question about our connection. I could feel it, like she was the other side of the coin, the yin to my yang. Was that a twin thing or something else?

Then I thought of my elemental powers and wondered about how I always saw her in the mist before, like she traveled in water. At least that had been the case until yesterday, when I’d seen her with Mr. Allsley. Why the sudden change? What had happened?

I had no answers, only the sinking feeling of inevitability. Was that my fate as well, what she was doing and seeming to enjoy? Would I soon be joining her?

A shudder ran through me followed by that steely sense of determination. I would either find her or find out what happened to her. And, aside from Derek, there was only one person I could think of that might know—my mother.

********

My luck took a turn for the better the next morning. After locating a library that would allow me to avail myself of their internet access without a cavity search, I was quickly able to come up with an idea of where my mother might be. And I was closer to her than I thought.

If it was, in fact, my mother that I had found, then she was going by her maiden name, Reilly, rather than Porter and she hadn’t moved from the town of my birth. It would take me about two hours to travel the distance from my current location to where she lived in Mansfield, Ohio.

Ready to get some answers, I got right on the interstate and headed southwest. As the highway miles sped by, I was plagued by doubts about whether or not I was doing the right thing. I mean, my father had gone to great lengths to make sure that my mother never found me. And obviously she hadn’t been very much help to my sister (as evidenced by the statement in her letter that Grey was already gone…to wherever). Plus, if Derek was right and someone made a deal, it made the most sense that the dealmaker was my mother. Was she really the person that I wanted to seek out for help?

I was getting off the exit in Mansfield before I could change my mind. I probably wouldn’t have turned back anyway. The fact was, I needed some help and she might be able to give it. End of story.

I had no trouble finding Maple Street. It had a wide median with trees planted all along its length, maples I assumed. When I reached the three hundred block, I slowed to look for number 306. When I found it, I parked across the street and cut the engine. The house looked nothing like the kind of place where a ruthless, wheeling-and-dealing person would make their home.

It was adorable. Small and white, the structure looked like a dollhouse with its decorative gables and cozy front porch. The front door was green, as were the winter-empty flowerboxes. With its white picket fence, all it needed was smoke rising from the chimney and apple pies cooling on the window sills to fulfill the perfect cliché.

I watched it for well over an hour, debating my next move. I mean, if I went to the door, what would I say? “Hi, I’m your daughter, one of the two that you traded for a new car or a bigger house. Where can I find my sister?”

Fate took that awkward conversation right off the table, however, when the front door opened and a woman emerged. Her hair was much shorter than in our pictures, but I’d have recognized her anywhere. My mother had aged beautifully, changing very little other than the length of her hair.

I slid down in the driver’s seat and watched as she walked down the sidewalk, through the little white picket gate, and got into a black Volkswagen parked at the curb. When she started the car and drove off, I started my own engine and followed her.

She parked in front of a brick building that had the old world appeal of a whole-in-the-wall rare book store. It even boasted an old, yellowed sign declaring it was FIRST EDITION. In smaller letters beneath that was JANINE REILLY, OWNER.

I watched discreetly as she walked to the front door and unlocked it, disappearing inside. Though she kept strange hours, it appeared that my mother was the owner of a small bookstore, a fact that didn’t really surprise me, what with the names she’d chosen for me and my sister.

I watched as she opened the store up, turning on the soft overhead lights, raising the gate that covered the large picture window and shuffling back and forth busily behind the cash register.

Since discovering that my mother was alive, I hadn’t really had the chance to fantasize much about her, what she looked like, where she worked, where she lived. But somehow, this didn’t fit. Somehow I expected her to be more…ruthless, I guess. I mean, if she was the person behind my current predicament then she’d have to be cunning and cruel. Wouldn’t she?

A few customers came in early. She smiled and interacted with them, walking them up and down the aisles of books, searching for what they wanted. After she checked them out, she walked them to the door. With my window cracked, I could hear her when the door opened.

“Have a great day and come back soon,” she’d say, her voice like a soothing lullaby, remembered comfort from long ago pouring over me.

As I watched her bustle through the store, I wondered if what she’d done could possibly have been an act of love. Had she been so devastated by the loss of her children that she reached out in desperation to whatever power would grant her those lives back, consequences be damned—literally? I mean, I’m the queen of consequences be damned and it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time behaviors. Maybe those flaws are genetically transmitted.

Almost two hours later, I was still working up the courage to go in and talk to her when something occurred to me. Out of the clear blue, my gut told me that Leah was in trouble.

I diverted my attention from my mother to the strange notion. I was wondering whether or not I should just write it off as some kind of neural misfire when it happened again, like a persistent gnawing at my insides.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Leah’s number. No one answered so I left a message.

“This is Carson. Just looking for Leah. If you could have her call me, I’d appreciate it. Thanks,” I said and then hung up. Less than a minute later, it occurred to me that she didn’t have my cell phone number so I called back and left that on the answering machine as well. Then I sat back to think.

My mind rationalized that it was Christmas Eve after all. Maybe Leah and her family had gone out of town or were just busy with last minute preparations or shopping. I decided to just wait and see if Leah called in the next couple of hours. If she didn’t, I’d try again and then go from there.

I rearranged my limbs into a more comfortable position and tried to concentrate on my mother once again. But now Leah was on my brain, that gnawing sensation growing stronger and stronger. Then my phone rang. Leah’s number showed up on the caller id. Relieved, I answered.

“Where are you?” I said without preamble.

“Carson, this is Dina.”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Kirby. Is Leah there?”

“We were hoping that she was with you.”

“What do you mean? I’ve been out of town. I’m, uh, I’m visiting relatives in Ohio.”

I heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Leah and Ryan broke up and she left this morning. She said she was going for a walk, but that was hours ago and now we can’t find her. Bruce and I just got back from driving around the neighborhood and the park looking for her.”

The gnawing stepped up to a jittery feeling of urgency. “Did you check the library?” Sadly, that was Leah’s favorite place.

“They’re closed for the holidays. Can you think of anywhere else she might go?”

I really couldn’t. “No, but I’m coming home. Will you call me if you hear from her? And I’ll do the same.”

“Alright.”

“I’ll come to your house as soon as I get there.”

“Thanks, Carson. We appreciate it.”

“No problem, Mrs. Kirby.”

I was already going back through my trip, plotting out shortcuts, planning on speeding and making as few stops as possible.

********

After quickly collecting my things from the hotel and checking out, my trip sped along even better than I anticipated. I was well in to West Virginia when I saw that my gas gauge was almost empty again, so when I saw a sign for a convenience store with a sub shop inside, I took that exit.

I was sitting in the car munching on my meatball sub when I saw Leah run by just beyond the hood. I doubted my eyes for a second, squeezing them shut before looking down at my sandwich, wondering what they’d put in the meatballs. But when I looked back up, I could still see her.

I could tell her pants were pale in color, but I couldn’t make out much more detail; she was shrouded in shadow. As she scrambled, I could see that her usually curly hair was stuck to her cheeks, water dripping from the ends. She stopped, chest heaving, and leaned back against a tree. I could barely see the two black letters DC burned into its bark above Leah’s head.

I got out of the car, one foot still on the floorboard inside, and stood behind the open door. “Leah?” I said hesitantly. It was no surprise that she didn’t acknowledge me. Though I didn’t really know what was going on, after yesterday, I felt sure that these “visions” were not interactive. At least I couldn’t interact; obviously the other girl could.

Walking to where Leah stood, I noticed that the closer I got the less clear her form became. It was grainy like an old photograph. Tentatively, I reached out to touch her, but my fingers slipped right through her image. It was like moving through fog. For a moment, it dissipates, but then it settles right back into place, as if you’d never disturbed it.

I saw her face contort. She was crying. She bent over and put her hands on her knees, presumably to catch her breath, then she stood up. After taking three deep breaths, she took off running again.

Through her, I could see trees and shrubs flit by as she ran, though she never got out of my sight. She was running through the woods, my woods, and I guessed it was raining. She tripped over a fallen log once and then over a root sticking up, both times catching herself on her hands before she hit the ground.

I could see her dipping and bobbing over the uneven terrain, having run through the woods with Derek many, many times. A pang of longing stabbed at my heart, but I squelched it and turned my full attention back to Leah. She fell out of sight.

I searched the parking lot pavement for her, frantic that something had happened to her.

I saw her arms flailing. Then I saw her head briefly before it sank back out of sight. I saw water droplets fly from her fingertips as her arms thrashed and splashed. She’d fallen into water and couldn’t get out.

Panic thundered in my chest. And then I saw Derek, standing in the trees behind her, watching.

I raced back to the car and punched my home number into the cell phone. No answer. Though I wasn’t really surprised, what with the note I’d left and all, I thought there might be a slim chance Derek was still there. Next I dialed the Kirbys. Dina answered.

“Hello?” There was a hopeful note in her voice that tugged at my heart. No doubt she was hoping that I had good news about Leah.

“Mrs. Kirby, it’s Carson.”

“Have you heard from Leah?”

“No, but I, uh, I…” I trailed off. What was I supposed to say? That I’d had a vision of Leah drowning in the woods? That would certainly make an impression, just not one that would do any of us any good. Then it came to me. “I just wanted to know if you checked the woods. I mean, sometimes I take walks in there when I need to think and stuff.”

“No, we didn’t. That just- I don’t know. That just doesn’t sound like Leah, does it to you?”

“Well, maybe not, but if she was upset then…”

“We could check,” Dina said weakly, doubt evident in her tone.

“Derek could probably help look for her. He knows the woods really well, lots of trails and things like that.”

“Derek’s gone. He left day before yesterday. There’s no way to reach him now.”

I was struck speechless. I guess I had been holding on to some hope that I’d been mistaken and that Derek would find me when I got home and give me some logical explanation that would make it all better. Then he’d declare his undying love and I would do the same and we’d live…well, as happily ever after as we could, all things considered.

But the hollow reality was much more painful than I ever anticipated. My heart ached like a hole had been torn in it, one that was bleeding profusely. Even if I wanted to try and find him, I couldn’t. I had no way of reaching him. No one did apparently. No phone number, no address, no family to track him to. Just the Kirbys. And they said he was already gone.

Then a thought struck me: how had I seen him in the woods with Leah then? Was I seeing what had already happened this time?

“Carson? Are you there?”

Mrs. Kirby’s voice brought me back from my musings to the task at hand. “Oh, sorry. Well I can go look for her when I get back. Maybe I can find her if she’s not home by then,” I said, hoping to encourage Dina, but knowing deep down that there was a great likelihood that she would not return. “And, one more thing. Is it supposed to rain tonight?”

I knew she probably thought that was an insane question to ask in the midst of such a traumatic situation, but she didn’t say anything about it, merely answered my question. “No. It’s supposed to be clear. As cold as it is, it would probably be snow anyway.”

“So it hasn’t rained in the last couple of days either?’

“No.”

What was supposed to add clarity only served to further confuse and alarm me. If it hadn’t rained, then maybe what I’d seen hadn’t happened yet. On the other hand, what if it was only raining in a small section of the woods? What if someone was making it rain? I thought again of Derek standing behind Leah and a sickening feeling washed over me.

Pushing my emotions aside, I turned the key and revved the Camaro’s engine then pulled the shifter down into drive. I stopped by the trash can on the way out of the parking lot and pitched the rest of my sub in; my appetite was a thing of the past.

The rest of the drive home turned out to be a lesson in frustration. My erratic and highly-emotional thoughts served no purpose other than to give me a massive headache.

Finally, almost three hours later, I saw the Camp exit sign come into view. I took it and guided the car to the forks rather than to the Kirbys. I was going to the woods to look for Leah. There were miles and miles of forest she could be in, but I knew where that tree was and that would be as good a place to start as any. I was showing off one evening and had burned DC into a tree on the path to a training site Derek and I frequented.

My heart clenched painfully at the memory and I immediately made myself think of Leah and how I might be able to help her when I found her. If I found her. I hoped that I’d be able to get there in time.

I pulled off the road into a spot where Derek had parked his bike dozens of times. I hopped out of the car and struck out immediately for the trees. Luckily, as a direct result of my time spent with Derek honing my skills, I didn’t even need a flashlight to navigate the uneven terrain.

As soon as I entered the forest, big, fat raindrops started to pepper through the bare trees as I picked my way around the vegetation. Despite the cold temperature, I was stuck in the middle of a downpour. I was soaked by the time I’d made my way to the tree with the DC carved into it, but there was no sign of Leah.

I stopped to listen and that’s when I heard it. Splashing and sputtering.

Darting off in the direction I’d seen Leah run in my “vision”, I ran at the fastest speed that I could safely travel without getting myself hurt and being of no use to Leah.

When it seemed that I had traveled far enough to have already encountered her, I stopped to listen again. It was quiet but for the occasional drop of moisture that fell from the wet branches onto the forest floor; it had already stopped raining.

Looking as deeply into the shadow as I could, I scanned the ground for signs of flailing limbs, but saw none. Something moved to my right and I whipped my head around.

Derek stood in the shadow of a tree, staring at me blankly. A kaleidoscope of emotions played through me until he raised his arm and pointed into the woods to my left. I looked that direction and caught a glimpse of something pale. It had to be Leah.

I looked back to Derek. He said nothing, just kept pointing.

Denying my urge to go to him, I bolted through the trees in the direction Derek had pointed. As my feet plodded through the wet leaves, I prayed that Derek had had nothing to do with the rain. When I saw Leah up ahead, lying on the ground, all thoughts fled my mind except her.

She wasn’t alone.

Drops of rain sparkled in red hair when the girl turned toward me and smiled. “Just in time, Sis,” she shouted, confirming my suspicion. As she dropped to her knees beside Leah, her tinkling laughter drifted to my ears, curdling my blood.

“No!” I ran faster, my heart hammering against my ribs.

When I reached them, Leah was lying limp in my sister’s arms, Grey’s lips at her neck. Ghostly forms hovered just behind them, teeth gnashing, fingers grasping, their pale faces ravenous. Rage washed over me and, without another thought, I hurled myself at Grey.

When I hit, the impact dislodged her from Leah and sent us both flying through the air. We landed several feet behind where Leah lay. In an instant we were both on our feet, facing one another.

Grey’s hair glinted crimson in the tiny bits of light that peeked through the branches. The black, hollow pits of her eyes were murderous and her pale face was marred only by the ring of blood that encircled her mouth.

Then her red lips lifted in a ghoulish smile. “Mmm,” she moaned. “That was sweeter than I expected. Want a taste?”

My throat stung and my jaws burned as saliva poured into my mouth. I was appalled. And she must’ve known it.

Grey’s laugh was a sarcastic bark. The cold, empty sound sent chills racing down my arms. “Of course not. You’re the good girl,” she sneered. “You’d never do something so vile, would you? Not yet anyway,” she teased.

I was so taken aback I couldn’t speak, a thousand gruesome thoughts swirling in my head.

“Thought you’d come and save the day. Is that it? Well, you might’ve saved her for the moment, but you’ve just sealed an even worse fate for her. Now when she goes, she’ll go straight to hell, like the rest of the murderers.”

“What?” I snapped.

“Oh, didn’t you know that if a human is bitten by a reaper, they’re cursed with our thirst? Only she won’t have the dying to feast on. She’ll kill the living, all for the bliss of one sip,” she said darkly. “And then something else will come for her, something worse than me,” she taunted.

“What have you done to her?” I didn’t give Grey time to answer. Instead, I turned and raced back to Leah.

I knelt beside her and pulled her head over into my lap. I bent to listen and could just barely make out the rattle of her breath in her throat.

“It’s not what I’ve done, it’s what you’ve done.”

Grey’s voice came from behind me, but when I turned my head to tear into her, she was gone. Only the faces of the dead remained, but they were subdued. Apparently there’d be no body for them to feed on this night.

Just then Leah moaned.

“Leah, it’s Carson. Can you hear me?”

“Carson?” I watched her eyelids flutter as she tried to open her eyes.

“It’s me. I’m here.”

“Carson, it hurts so bad.” Her voice broke on a sob that tore at my heart.

“I’m so sorry, Leah,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against hers. She was burning up. I lifted my hand to her cheek and it was on fire.

“I’ve got to get you home, Leah. Can you get up?”

I knew that was asking a lot from someone who had just been through a near-drowning and a partial feeding, but we had to move and I couldn’t carry her all the way back.

“I think I can, but I’m so thirsty, Carson. You have to get me something to drink,” she whined.

“In a minute. We’ve got to get you home first.”

“My parents, are they worried about me?” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t expect to be gone this long, but Ryan,” she sobbed. “Ryan broke up with me and I just- I just had to get out of the house.”

“I know, Leah, but right now we have to get you out of here, alright? Can you stand up?”

Leah nodded her head weakly, still sobbing quietly. I helped push her into a sitting position then I went around in front of her and grabbed her hands. “Now on the count of three, I’m going to pull and you’re going to stand up, ok?”

Leah nodded again. I hoisted her into a standing position then put my arm around her waist and urged her to walk with me. She stumbled quite a bit, but eventually we made it back to the Camaro. By that time, she was spent and her fever was raging even hotter, if that was possible.

“Carson, please help me. I can’t stand this. I’m so hot and my stomach hurts so bad. And my throat,” she croaked, clenching and unclenching her fists. “It’s so dry.” She attempted to clear it, but it only made an arid, rasping sound.

“In a few minutes. Right now we need to get in the car so I can take you home.”

I opened the passenger side door and helped Leah into the seat. I grabbed the lap belt and bent across her to click it into place. I felt Leah brush the wet hair back from my face and as I started to back out, she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me to her.

“Oh, Carson,” she cried.

I whispered soothing reassurances to her as she cried. I felt Leah turn her head and nuzzle my neck. Then I felt her soft lips brush my skin with a feather-light kiss. And then I felt her tongue.

“Leah, what are you doing?” I asked, trying to keep my calm.

A little hum sounded in the back of her throat and she began to lick and suck at my neck. Her arms tightened around me, holding me to her with a surprising amount of strength. And then I felt the nip of her teeth. They were blunt, but still, I knew what she was trying to do.

“Leah! Stop!” I reached behind my neck and grabbed her wrists and pulled as hard as I could to dislodge them from around me. When I pulled away from her, she leaned forward, following me, biting and licking.

“But I need it, Carson. I’m so thirsty,” she whimpered.

When I got away from her, I looked down into her face and it was like she’d been taken over by someone else. Without her glasses, which she must’ve lost in the woods, I could see that her lids were heavy and a sensuous smile played upon her lips. She squirmed like she couldn’t sit still, almost writhing in her seat.

I slapped her lightly, which only made her smile deepen and a lusty look come into her eyes. “Snap out of this, Leah. You have to fight it!” She laughed huskily. “This is important,” I spat, shaking her shoulders. “Leah!”

With that, she seemed to sober somewhat and I took advantage of the moment. “I can’t take you home like this. You’ll have to stay at my house until I can figure out what to do.”

And that did the rest. “But what about my parents? And what if Ryan calls?”

“Tough. He’ll just have to wait,” I said coldly, slamming the door for emphasis.

I went around to the driver side and climbed in. Leah had begun to cry again. “Leah,” I snapped. “Enough!”

Her sobs dribbled off to the occasional sniffle, but at least I could hear myself think.

I drove to my house and parked in the driveway. Once Leah was in my room in the bed, I went to the living room and called the Kirbys. I told them that I’d checked one of my favorite spots on the way home and found her and that she was safe and was going to stay the night with me.

When Mr. Kirby asked to talk to her, I whispered conspiratorially, “That’s probably not a good idea right now. She’s pretty torn up about all this. Can she just stay here tonight and call you tomorrow?”

“But, it’s Christmas Eve and my daughter—”

I heard Mrs. Kirby’s voice interrupt him in the background just before Mr. Kirby covered the phone. When he came back on the line, he was more amenable. And though I could tell he wasn’t pleased about it, Mr. Kirby agreed to my suggestion.

I had completely forgotten that it was Christmas Eve, but unfortunately, that didn’t change anything. Right now, the main thing was that everyone was safe for the night and that I had a little time to figure out what to do next.

When I went back in to check on Leah, she was asleep. Her face was beet red and she was laying spread eagle with the covers thrown off, like she was hot. She muttered and tossed, but didn’t wake up so I closed the door behind me and went to get a pillow and blanket for the couch.

Of course Derek was the first thing to pop into my head when I pulled the pillow down from the top of the linen closet. His scent assailed me, that dark, woodsy smell. He was the last one who used the pillow and blanket. I felt a stab of pain as the gash in my heart started bleeding again.

Purposely, I began thinking about Leah and my sister and what to do about my current dilemma. I made up the couch and then went into the kitchen for a soda. Lying on the bar was the sweater that Derek had bought me and a piece of paper was sticking out beneath it.

It read:

Carson,

I’m so sorry that I brought Fahl into your life. Maybe he would’ve found you anyway. I don’t know. I did it for my brother, but now I know some deals aren’t worth the sacrifice.

I didn’t want you to find out this way, but my betrayal was not what you think. It didn’t take me long to figure out that you were special. Very special. I was hoping that by stringing Fahl along, together we could find a way to beat him, a way to free us all. I know how it must look, but I thought that you knew how I felt about you, that I could never hurt you. Not again.

It doesn’t matter now anyway. There’s only one thing I have left to bargain with, one thing I can give away to make things right.

I hope one day you’ll forgive me.

Love,

Derek