“No, they’re talking about Tana,” Pearl repeated, because he must not have heard her.
“The police already explained what happened at the gas station. Now, do what I say and turn it off.” He sounded stern, but Pearl didn’t care. She wanted to hear.
On the screen, Mitch Evans looked very serious. “Tell us about that. You could see the whole thing?”
“Yeah, and I never saw anything else like it, neither,” said Garrett. “The one boy looks like he’s going to rip her throat right out when another boy comes out of nowhere. The new boy lifts the first one up into the air and bites down on his neck. Bites right down on it like no muss, no fuss. Just like on TV. The girl’s lying there—doesn’t even try to run. Then finally she gets up, brushes herself off, and the vampire—he must have been a vampire, right?—loads up the boy into the back of the car and they all drive off like nothing happened.”
None of it sounded like Aidan, who was funny and nice and used to tease Pearl until she laughed. None of it sounded like Tana, who would have run or fought or something.
“The girl got into the car voluntarily? Was she cooperating with the vampire?”
“Looked like,” said Garrett.
After she’d noticed the text that morning, Pearl had gone out to the kitchen and taken a picture of their dad, asleep at the kitchen table, and another picture of her mostly empty cereal bowl and sent those to Tana along with a message: Everything weird and boring here. U better have fun fun fun and send pix so i can be jealous.
She hadn’t gotten any reply.
“Pearl,” her father said warningly.
“No!” she shouted, hurling her plate of spaghetti at him, the sauce spattering across the wood floor and the plate shattering. “No! I want to hear about Tana.”
“And you couldn’t tell if the girl was Cold?” asked Mitch Evans on the television.
Some of the spaghetti stuck to the wall and other pieces fell. They all looked like worms.
“I couldn’t tell nothing. You saw the footage, didn’t you?” asked Garrett, the gas station guy.
“Unfortunately the police haven’t released the video to the public yet, but we hope to show clips of it to our viewers soon. But I can say that Tana Bach, Aidan Marinos, and their unidentified companion are the only survivors of the massacre that left us with forty-eight teens dead, snuffed out at a party that should have marked one of the happiest times in their lives. The police are left asking how did three teenagers escape, what horrors did they endure during the seventeen hours they were held captive in that farmhouse, and where are they going now?
“Viewers, we want you to call the number flashing at the bottom of the screen if you see anyone matching their description or spot a gray 1995 Ford Crown Victoria with green patches. Remember, do not approach them. At least one has already been turned, the other two are probably infected, and their state of mind is unclear. They are considered highly dangerous. Back to you, Tiffany.”
They returned to the newsroom. “Thank you, Mitch,” said Tiffany with a stiff smile. “And remember, if you do come into physical contact with a vampire, you are legally obligated to report yourself to the authorities. Do not attempt to wait to see if you’ve become infected. Do not attempt to self-quarantine. Call 911, explain the nature of the attack, and wait for further instructions.
“Next up, we’ll hear from an expert who will go over the best way to vampire-proof your house and after that we have an exclusive interview with the bounty hunter who claims to have details on one of the three vampires who perpetrated this slaughter. But first, a word from our sponsors.”
Her father hadn’t moved from where he was standing in front of the television. Even though he’d told her to turn it off, he’d watched until the end.
Pearl thought about finally saying the words she hadn’t said all day long, ever since she saw the message from Tana: I know where she is, Dad.
But didn’t say those words or any others. She picked up the remote, solemnly clicked off the television, and went upstairs to put on her pajamas for bed.
CHAPTER 25
Man dies of cold, not of darkness.
—Miguel de Unamuno
Tana’s fear was a living thing, clawing at her throat, as Aidan’s red eyes focused on her. She swallowed terror down as best she could without choking. Not meaning to, she took a step back, the knife coming up. It seemed a flimsy thing against two monsters.
“You came back,” Aidan said a little dazedly, holding out his hand, as if he didn’t even notice her weapon. He looked relieved to see her, relieved and hopeful. “I thought it would be—I don’t know—not like this. I’ve done bad things, Tana.”