Bryn Morrow
by Mike Cooley
Copyright © 2013 Mike Cooley
All rights reserved.
Chapter 1
It was the first sunrise I had seen in two hundred years, and it was glorious. I sat on the edge of the black monolith known as Trium Rock and watched the sun emerge from the horizon like an eternal flame. The polymer coating on my skin held and my polycarbonate shades kept my eyes from boiling out of my head. It was 5:46 in the morning. I glanced at the timer on my watch as it counted up from zero.
Trium Rock was at the west end of Lake Drive in the small town of Lanston. It was surrounded by a bed of crushed rock and had the names of forgotten heroes from a forgotten war chiseled into it around the base. It towered above a small park designed to honor the dead, and I could see Lake Saul to the east. There were benches bolted to the concrete facing the rock so people could sit and contemplate their mortality while having lunch.
At six minutes the polymer started to glow on my exposed arms and face. I had been working on the formula for over a year and it was finally showing some promise. The sun stung my eyes through the coated lenses, but I refused to blink or look away. It could be the only time I ever saw the sun again and I was loathe to waste it. The air was still crisp with the cool of the night, but it was warming quickly. I smelled flowers, coffee, and the lake, carried on a light breeze which blew toward me from the east.
Below, in the city of Lanston, the streets were nearly empty. People were just beginning to stir in their houses. A few cars were on the streets, headlights still on. The town was tucked into the pines of northern Minnesota, away from the rush of the big city. Lights came on in houses, and TVs came to life like glowing eyes, visible through the windows.
I heard the sounds of the living as they readied themselves for the day.
The day. How long had it been? I remembered back to my last one. It was January 28, 1813 and I hadn’t been up at sunrise. That was the day everything changed for me. That was the day I had changed from a human to something… else.
I still remembered every detail. Small solace. The streak of light against the sky. And running. The smoke and glow of something from elsewhere. The shimmer in my head and heart. The smell of burning trees and flesh. And then the transformation. Had it taken my soul, or just my pulse? I still wasn’t sure.
It was nothing like the movies. Silver had no effect on me, nor did garlic. I had sharp incisors because I had filed them myself in a fit of rage. I could drink holy water, but I found it flat and unsatisfying. So many half-truths and fabrications. I didn’t need blood to survive, but it tasted like wine: complex and mind-altering.
I was a creature of the night hiding from the day walkers. I had strength and abilities no human could match. I was ageless, but the vampire myths had one thing right: sunlight could quickly kill me.
Until now.
The thin polymer layer boiled under the rising sun, and my skin grew hot. I saw her for no more than an instant. Even over the great distance between us, her eyes were drawn to me, and mine to her. She was the girl in the dreams: the one I had seen fleeting glimpses of down through the centuries of solitude, the one I had seen the day I died, the day walker. Her hair was white and her skin was dark. I couldn’t see the color of her eyes but I knew they were pale green.
My heart caught in my throat. I stood. The polymer boiled off me like flame. My timer reached eight minutes. The sun stabbed my eyes like shards of glass.
Time to go.
Chapter 2
“What do you mean, he was burning?” Debra looked across the table at Celeste while stirring sugar into her coffee.
They were sitting in Perky’s Coffee House, which was their usual haunt on Saturday mornings. It was walking distance from both their houses. In Lanston, everything was walking distance from everywhere. It was a one-horse town that had misplaced the horse. Perky’s was on the south side of Lake Drive, and Celeste’s house was on Argent, half a block west. Debra lived around the corner to the east and south, on Riven.
“He just stood there, on the black rock spire. Tall and thin with dark hair. He was wearing a white T-shirt, dark jeans, and sunglasses—I couldn’t see his eyes. And his skin burned. Flames rose from him.”
“And you’ve never seen him before?” Debra sipped her coffee and brushed her red hair out of her face. She poured more cream in her cup and stirred it with a spoon. Perky’s smelled like coffee, chocolate, and pastries.
“Well, I don’t think I have, but there was something—” Celeste searched her memories, trying to piece it together.
“Something like what?” Debra’s blue eyes sparkled with interest.
“I was drawn to look that way. I shouldn’t have seen him. I was on my way here. He was behind me, on Trium Rock, but I felt compelled to stop and turn around.” Celeste ripped a piece off her strawberry danish and ate it, then washed it down with orange juice.
“Compelled? Are you getting enough sleep? Maybe you had a little too much to—” Debra lifted her hand like she was holding a bottle and tipped her head back, then laughed. Her freckles contrasted with her alabaster skin.
“I know what it sounds like.” Celeste took another bite of her danish
and wiped her fingers on a napkin. The usual morning crowd was at Perky’s, and everyone knew everyone. A few of the regulars were looking at them, but the place was noisy enough they weren’t likely to overhear much. Sally came by and topped off Debra’s coffee and Celeste’s juice.
“It sounds like you’re nuts.” Debra smiled.
“So a burning man standing on Trium Rock is rare?” Celeste opened her mouth in shock and her green eyes twinkled. “Who knew?”
“Don’t be silly. How would he even get up there? It’s twenty meters tall, and there aren’t any stairs.” Debra drank again and looked around the coffee shop. The regulars were in their usual spots, and no one was on fire.
“And there was another thing….”
“Spill, Celeste!” Debra leaned forward, eagerly awaiting what promised to be a juicy bit of information.
“He seemed to recognize me.”
“Probably just a creeper, after your hot bod.” Debra smiled and looked Celeste up and down as if undressing her. She nodded approvingly at what she saw and blew Celeste a kiss.
“Yeah, a flaming creeper who can jump twenty meters.” Celeste finished her danish and orange juice, waving Sally off when she tried to refill it.
“Well, look at you. You’re twenty-two, curvy and exotic. Dark skin, green eyes, platinum hair. Beautiful! If I were a stranger on a rock, you’d set me on fire too.”
“Not literally.”
“Well, maybe… if you were really pissed.” Debra finished her coffee and leaned back in her chair. She was dressed in blue jeans and a blue button-down shirt. Her nails were a deeper shade of red than her hair, and her lip gloss matched her nails. “So what are we going to do today?”
“I have to see Jason.” Celeste wrinkled her nose. She was dressed in black jeans and a red T-shirt. It was Saturday, and she wasn’t in the mood to dress up.
“The thrill is gone?” Debra didn’t look surprised.
“It’s not that. We’re just not… compatible.”
“You say that about every guy you date. You think he’s too old for you?”
“He’s only twenty-six. To be honest, my skin is too dark for his momma.” Celeste kept her voice down and looked embarrassed.
“Many a relationship has been shot to hell by family,” Debra commiserated.
“It’s not worth it to me. I’ve been through that. There are lots of men in the sea. Better for me to end it now, before it gets serious.” Celeste dug some bills out of her pocket and put them on the table.
“More like an ocean of stupid.” Debra laughed. “How are the dreams?”
“Getting worse. They are so real. I often wake up covered in sweat, heart racing.”
“Sorry to hear that. Do you remember any of them?” Debra opened her black leather purse and added some ones to the pile.
“Not a bit,” Celeste lied.
“When are you breaking up with Jason?”
“Today. I’m going to stop by and see him at work.”
“He works on Saturday?”
“It depends on how many cars they’ve got in the shop. They’re loaded this weekend, so he has to work extra.”
“How do you think he’s going to take it?”
“Bad. I mean, look at me.” Celeste raised her arms, arched her back, and batted her eyelashes.
“You are a bad girl.” Debra laughed. “Gotta go. I’m supposed to go bowling with Tommy at Rock and Bowl this afternoon.”
“Oh, Tommy. Now that boy has some really dangerous ideas.”
“He does. And one of them is me.” Debra pushed her chair back, stood, and headed for the door. “See you, sweetie. Luck.”
“See ya.” Celeste stood and headed for the door. She was anxious about telling Jason they were through, but excited about the mystery of the burning man.
Outside Perky’s, she looked to her left, at Trium Rock. There was no burning man on top. She took a deep breath, and then began walking toward her house. The warm July sun was heating the air, and it felt nice on her skin.
Chapter 3
The air was chilly. Stars dotted the night sky. Bryn knew what was coming, but watched with a racing heart just the same. The forest went silent as the streak of light arced toward him through the darkness. There was no moon. It was the end of January, 1813, and Bryn was about to die.
The streak of light grew closer and brighter. An ominous roar filled the silence. He ran as he always did, unable to change anything. The concussive blast of impact shattered him.
He gripped the edge of the crater, skin blackened. So this is death, he thought. He pulled himself out of the glassy pit and rolled onto the ground.
She was standing there, barely visible. Like a ghost. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, naked and burned. She reached toward him. Her dark-skinned face was framed by long, white hair, and she was wearing a long dress made of red satin. Her eyes were the pale green of jade.
He hadn’t known her name… then.
Chapter 4
Hey, Jason.” Celeste leaned down and looked below the Dodge. Jason’s feet were sticking out from under it; she recognized his Nikes.
“Hey, babe. What’s up?” He slid out from under the car and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. He had a wrench in one hand and a greasy rag in the other. He looked at her from feet to eyes, pausing on her chest for a moment, and then grinned.
“It’s about us, actually. When do you get off work?”
“Should be around three. What are you up to today?”
“I’m doing historical research at the library on the 1800s.”
“What about Debra and Tommy?” Jason sat up and smiled.
“They are at Rock and Bowl this afternoon, knocking down some pins.”
“You mean drinking.” Jason laughed. He was wearing greasy blue overalls with his name on the chest.
“They manage to throw the ball in the gutter while fondling each other,” Celeste corrected. She looked at the floor and put her hands in the front pockets of her jeans.
“What about us, Celeste? Is it bad news?” Jason’s expression grew serious, like he already knew the answer.
“Yes,” said Celeste. “I think I need some time to think.”
“Is this about me? You know I love you.” Jason stood up, went to the sink against the back wall of the garage, and began washing the grease off his hands. There were three cars in the shop being worked on. He had been under the Charger.
“I know, but sometimes that’s not enough.”
He dried his hands and approached her, locking eyes with hers. His were blue. He was stocky and muscular. When he wasn’t wrenching on cars, he was working out. His hair was sandy brown, and he was 5’ 8”—only a few inches taller than Celeste. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight, then leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
Celeste savored his lips and touch before pulling away. “It’s not you, Jason. It’s your family.”
“My family? You mean my mom.” Jason’s expression darkened. “I told you not to worry about her. She’s always been that way. I’ll move out.”
“I know. It’s not your fault, Jason. But I just can’t be around that. I can’t live my life under a microscope because my skin is too dark.”
“She’ll come around.”
“I’m sorry, Jason.” Celeste was overcome with emotion, and her eyes teared up. “But I really think—”
“It’s another guy, isn’t it?” Jason examined her face for any clue. His hands were clenched at his side.
“It’s not another guy. This is hard for me. Can you just accept for now that I need some time to think about it? To think about everything?”