After Dark (24 page)

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Authors: James Leck,James Leck,Yasemine Uçar,Marie Bartholomew,Danielle Mulhall

Tags: #Children's Fiction

BOOK: After Dark
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We were on a landing. There were stairs up, and there were stairs down.

“Which way?” I asked.

Elizabeth took the stairs up, and I followed her. We rushed along a short hallway, through a door, and found ourselves in the nave of the church. Elizabeth turned around and slammed that door shut, too, then scanned the room.

“Turn on the lights, Charlie,” she said. “I can't stand the dark anymore. The switches are at the front.”

I knew what she meant. If we were going down, and we almost certainly were, it would be nice to at least do it in the light. I rushed to the front and found a panel of about eight light switches. I used both hands and threw them all up at once. The lights blinked on, and the church got bright. At the same time, a recording of church bells started up. I froze momentarily, but reminded myself we weren't going to hide from them anymore, so church bells ringing didn't matter. Plus, if Miles, Lilith and Mom were out there somewhere, maybe it would create a diversion and give them a chance to escape.

I could hear footsteps rushing behind the door at the back. Elizabeth leaped away from it and dove under the pews. I dove, too, and we started commando crawling our way toward each other. The door crashed open, and I heard a crowd trample in.

There was no getting away now, and I knew it. The sad thing is I actually felt a wave of relief.

“It's been nice getting to know you, Winehurst,” I whispered. “Maybe, after we're changed, we can still do dinner. And if we do share a hive mind, please ignore most of my thoughts. They can be pretty childish.”

She grabbed my hands, smiled and gave me a short, simple kiss on the lips. “We tried,” she said.

Feet closed in, all around us. I looked up from under the pew and saw the Man-Bear, Igor Balic, crouching down, looking right at me. His mouth was open, thorny teeth in full display, spider blossoms scampering across them.

Elizabeth squeezed my hands tighter. Balic started toward us, then hesitated and stood up. An instant later, the windows were crashing in. Something — no, lots of things  — whistled through the air, and I looked at Elizabeth. She was staring at something — a green canister that was lying several feet away from her on the floor, hissing out yellow smoke. My eyes started to water, and I began to choke. I looked up at Balic again and saw a small dart shoot into his cheek, and then another hit him in the neck. My eyes felt like they were on fire and started watering so badly I couldn't see anymore. I didn't want to get up, but I needed to get away from the yellow smoke that was now billowing out of that canister. I staggered blindly to my feet, then I felt something sharp dig into my stomach. I looked down; a dart was sticking out of my orange jumpsuit. Everything went black.

Monday, ?:??

I woke up in a cot, in a white tent, with Richard O'Rourke staring down at me from behind a plastic visor. He was decked out in a yellow hazmat suit. I'd finally lost my mind.

“Hello, Harker,” he said.

“Hola, O'Rourke, I think I've gone
loco
,” I murmured.

“Yeah, sure, a long time ago. It probably happened after about a week at Choke.”

“What? What's going on? I don't understand.”

“You emailed me, remember?”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you said something strange was going on in Rolling Hills and sent me a photo of a skull with something growing out of it.”

“Right,” I mumbled. “How'd you get here so fast? I thought you were holed up somewhere in the Middle East.”

“We're only three days into summer vacation, Harker. I haven't had time to pack, let alone leave.”

“Where am I?”

“This is a containment tent, inside a mobile field hospital.”

“In Rolling Hills?” I asked, looking around at the gleaming white walls of the tent.

“Close by,” he said.

I tried to sit up, but the world went spinning away, and I collapsed back onto the bed.

“What happened?”

“Do you want the long or short version?”

“Medium?”

“All right,” he said, sitting back. “Well, I got your email and, obviously, thought it was a joke. But I had to admit it seemed a little too elaborate for you, so I took some time to do some googling about Rolling Hills. There's someone by the name of Dr. Xavier Vortex, who's been tweeting and blogging about this mysterious viral outbreak about every five minutes, which is lucky for you. Otherwise, I wouldn't have risked telling my dad about it. But, after seeing that this Vortex had some serious credentials, scientifically speaking, I decided to broach the subject with him.”

“Vortex actually has credentials?”

“Yes, he does — although he's kind of fallen off the map recently. Anyway, I brought it up with my dad, and he had one of his operatives come and check it out.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. He never reported back. I don't think Dad would've handled things so … well, so
efficiently
, if one of his own employees hadn't disappeared. That's not normal, and Dad takes his operatives' safety very seriously.”

“This is all your dad?”

“His company, yes, and don't ask me who he's talked to or who he's working with on this. When he picks up the phone, I've been trained to stop listening. Look, I'm probably telling you more than I should, Harker, but we're friends, and I thought you should know something about what's going on.”

“How'd you find us?”

“Dad and his team were actually in the middle of corralling the … how does he put it? Oh yeah, he was corralling the ‘contaminated subjects' on Church Street when he heard church bells and sent a squad of men over to investigate. He'd brought me along to ID you if you were ever captured, but he had me wait back here.”

“What happened to the girl who was with me?”

“They're keeping you all separated until they're positive you're not infected. But from what I've heard, she's all right.”

“Do you know what happened to Lilith or my mom?”

He frowned and shook his head. “They haven't brought them in yet, but my dad will let me know when they do. They've captured Johnny, though.”

“What are they going to do with him? Can they cure him?”

“I don't know, Harker, but I will tell you this: Dad brought along some serious firepower on this job. They definitely have the best and brightest looking after him.”

“So, what's in store for me?”

“For now, you can just sit back and relax. But I wouldn't start booking tee times anytime soon. The town is quarantined, and you may have been exposed to a seriously messed-up virus.”

“Is that why you've got your rainsuit on?”

“It's called a hazmat suit, Harker. And I had to steal it to sneak in here. If anyone catches me, I might actually disappear for a few years — no joke.”

“You'll let me know if they find my mom and Lilith, right?”

“Of course, but hey, you should know they brought in another guy a little while ago. He's in the room across the hall. He's hurt pretty bad, but I heard he mumbled your name a couple of times. I thought he might be a friend of yours.”

“Is it Miles?” I asked.

He opened his mouth to answer, but then there was a rustling outside the tent followed by the sound of a zipper being undone. O'Rourke bolted up and stood at attention.

Two people entered, both decked out in hazmat suits.

O'Rourke saluted them and quickly marched out without another word.

One of my new visitors saluted him back, without really paying any attention, and walked over to me.

“Charles Harker, I'm Colonel Stephen H. Sanders. How the heck are you feeling, son?” he asked and bent over to peer at me. His face was clean-shaven and angular.

“I'm alive,” I said. “I think.”

“Damn straight you're alive,” he said. “And you're a hero.”

“Not me,” I muttered. “I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off most of the time.”

“There are worse things to be than a chicken,” Sanders said. “Now buck up, son, because I've got some good news. Doc Peters here,” he said, motioning to the other person, “has given you the all clear. You're not infected.”

“Great,” I said, even though being in the clear wasn't making me feel a whole lot better considering the rest of my family was either missing or infected.

“I'll get someone in here with some grub, and I'm sure you'll be feeling right as rain in no time. Now, if you'll excuse us, the doc's got rounds to make.”

“Sure,” I mumbled, but the two of them were already marching back to the zippered door. They unzipped, zipped and then were gone, leaving me alone in my quarantine tent.

“Miles Van Helsing,” I muttered and sat up slowly. The world tilted a little again, but then things evened out. I eased my way onto my feet and expected to fall back down, but I got my balance. Whatever they'd put in that dart was wearing off.

“Miles Van Helsing,” I said again, this time grinning a little. “That nut-ball made it.”

I started toward the zipper-door, and that's when I clued in to the fact that I wasn't wearing my orange onesie anymore. Now I was decked out in a green hospital gown, the kind that's wide open in the back. I pulled it shut with one hand and grabbed the tent zipper. I wanted to see Miles. We'd been through a heck of a lot, and I wanted to make sure he was okay.

I'd just managed to undo the zipper when someone burst in wearing one of those hazmat suits, practically knocking me over.

“Watch it,” I said, figuring it was a doctor or a guard making sure I didn't go out for an unauthorized stroll. And I was going to head back to my bed like a good little patient when I caught sight of who was staring at me from behind the plastic visor.

“Miles!” I said and grabbed him.

“Take it easy,” he said, as I tried to give him my version of a Johnny Harker bear hug.

“You made it!” I said, stepping back.

“You could say that,” he said in a low voice. His face was covered in scrapes. One eye was swollen purple and completely shut. The other was only partially open.

“What happened?” I asked.

“The crash in the river,” he said, zipping the tent closed. “Then I met your brother in the woods.”

“How'd you get away?” I asked.

“I didn't,” he said flatly.

“What —” I started, feeling my legs turning to rubber.

“I borrowed the suit from your friend,” he said.

“O'Rourke?” I gasped and fell backward into my cot.

“He's in my room … taking my place, temporarily. The suit will shield me from the sun.”

“Not you, Miles …” I said, and all my strength drained out of me.

“It needs to survive. It needs to move on. I have to get out of here or they'll try to kill it.”

“Miles, they can fix you,” I stammered.

“Fix me?” he said flatly and pulled a scalpel from out of nowhere. “I don't want to be fixed.”

“Easy does it, Miles,” I said, trying to gather up some energy to fight him off.

“This isn't for you,” he said and stepped over to the other side of the tent. He sliced the scalpel down the side of the tent, and there was a sound like air seeping out. Then my tent sagged a little as sunlight streamed in from outside.

“I came to tell you, Charlie, that I have to go, but I'll be back,” he said, taking one step outside. “Lilith and your mother, they're not one of us. Not yet. But you'll all join us, and you'll see that it's better this way.”

“Miles!” I cried, but he was gone.

JAMES LECK
lives in Nova Scotia, where he's spent almost all of his summer vacations. He's always enjoyed lounging beside pools, drinking ice-cold lemonade and sleeping in. Poison ivy, running face-first into trees and waking up alone in the dark are some of his least favorite things. However, he's pretty sure being chased by humanoid creatures would be worse.

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PB 978-1-55453-365-7
ePub 978-1-77138-067-6

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“You don't need to reinvent the wheel for a great detective story, but you do need a terrific sense of style. Jack Lime's got it in spades.”

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starred review

“With its tongue-in-cheek Raymond Chandler-esque first-person narration laced with gleefully clichéd slang, this one is perfect for Chet Gecko grads.”

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HCJ 978-1-55453-740-2
ePub 978-1-77138-068-3

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John Spray Mystery Award, Shortlist

“A winning formula, replete with wince-worthy contretemps reported in properly poker-faced prose.”

— Kirkus Reviews

“An entertaining page-turner.”

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