Destined (8 page)

The three cretins dropped the girl, roughly, on the stone, smiled at each other, and turned and walked towards Caitlin. The girl could have ran, but instead she stayed where she was, watching.

Caitlin heard Rose growl beside her.

Caitlin didn’t wait. She took three steps forward, leapt into the air, and planted two feet hard on the lead man’s chest, kicking him so hard that he flew back several feet.

Before the others could react, she wheeled and elbowed one hard across the face, cracking his cheek with a loud noise, and sending him to the ground.

The third man grabbed her from behind with all he had. Caitlin struggled, surprised for a moment. This one was much stronger than she’d expected.

Just as she prepared to flip him over her shoulder, she heard the sound of breaking glass, and felt him drop his grip.

She turned and saw the girl standing behind her, a broken bottle in her hand, and the man lying limp on the ground: she had clearly smashed a bottle over his head.

Before Caitlin could thank her, the first man, back on his feet, charged at her again. But Rose was mad now, and she took the lead, charging him, leaping into the air, and clamping down hard on his throat. The man dropped to the ground, squirming and screaming, but he could not get Rose off.

Finally, he passed out, and Rose returned to Caitlin’s side.

Caitlin surveyed the damage: the three men lay there, unconscious.

She turned and looked at the girl.

The girl stared back, bewildered and grateful at the same time.

Caitlin stared back at her, and Caitlin was shocked, too. But not because of what had happened.

Rather, because she
knew
this girl.

In fact, she had once been her best friend.

It was Polly.

Sam woke to the sound of clanging church bells. He never knew bells could ring that loudly, and he felt as if he were inside the bell itself. His entire body shook with the sound, as he opened his eyes to utter blackness. He reached out, and felt stone in front of him.

He frantically reached out in every direction, and felt himself encased in stone. He was flat on his back. He tried to move side to side, but couldn’t, and that’s when he realized: he was in a coffin.

Panicking, Sam reached up with all his might, and after several seconds, was finally able to move the stone lid; with a scraping noise, it slid just a few inches, as light and fresh air poured in through the crack. He breathed deeply, realizing how badly he needed it.

He slid a few fingers into the crack, and with all his might, pushed the lid to the side. Again it scraped, protesting, but soon he was able to get all his fingers in, then his hands. Within moments, he pushed the stone lid completely off, and with one final heave, it crashed to the floor, cracking into a million pieces.

He sat upright, gasping for air, and shielded his eyes from the light.

Sam jumped up from the coffin, and, stumbling on weak legs, scurried over to the corner, hiding from the direct sunlight. He searched his pockets, and quickly unraveled his skin wraps, and wrapped his arms and shoulders. He found the eye drops in his pocket, too, and put two in each eye.

After a moment, his breathing relaxed. He started to calm, to feel himself again. He looked around.

He was in a tomb of some sort, an ancient, dusty tomb. He saw an open door, leading outside.

Sam steeled himself and walked out, into the sunlight, and realized with a shock where he was.

At the top of a hill, exiting a church’s mausoleum, spread out before him were hundreds of steps, leading down to a city. Rome. The entire city spread out before him, and he was afforded a magnificent view. He turned and examined the church he exited from, then turned back, and looked again at the steps. It all suddenly struck him. He knew where he was. He had seen this picture many times on postcards: the Spanish steps of Rome.

His time travel had worked. He didn’t know exactly why it had taken him to this place, or what year it was, but he hoped it would be the same year that Kyle had gone to. Sam couldn’t remember much—his entire time in New York now felt hazy, like a dream—but he did remember one thing: his single-minded pursuit of Kyle. He remembered finding out that Kyle had gone back in time to kill his sister, and that once he learned this, he couldn’t rest. He was determined to find Kyle, no matter what it took, and kill him before he could harm his sister.

Before he’d discovered this news, Sam has been depressed, at odds, in a deep despair for what he’d done to his sister, and to Caleb. He had never meant any of it. Once he’d found out what Kyle was up to, he’d seen this as his chance to make amends for all that he had done—and to avenge himself on Kyle. Sam knew that he could never expect the forgiveness of Caitlin. But at the very least, perhaps, he could help her in his own, small way.

As Sam descended the steps, through the mobs of people, he noticed several of them parting ways for him, looking at him funny. Some of them were pointing at him, then looking up the hill.

He suddenly realized that he must have made an odd site, probably covered in dust from the tomb.

And some of them may have seen him exiting right from the mausoleum, and had probably heard the shattering of stone.

He quickened his pace, figuring it best not to let them wonder too much, and headed off down the stairs at a quick jog, taking them three at a time.

Sam weaved his way through the crowd, wondering which way to go. He could feel Kyle’s presence strongly in the city. It was hard
not
to feel it—the man emanated evil, oozed it in a tangible trail. Sam followed the trail, following his senses, as he navigated down the side streets of Rome. He barely took in any of the scene before him, as he was so single-mindedly focused on completing his mission.

Sam felt himself gravitating down a particular street, then down a particular alleyway.

He stopped just in time, nearly tripping: there, beneath him, were two rotting corpses, one of what looked like a prostitute, and the other of a man that looked like her pimp. He sensed strongly that Kyle had been here, and had done this.

Sam followed his senses down several more side streets, and before he knew it, he found himself entering in a large, ancient square: The Piazza Della Rotonda. And there, before him, was the place he sought: the Pantheon.

Sam stared in awe. It was magnificent. With its his huge columns spread out before its entranceway, its circular dome, it was both beautiful and imposing. He had seen it before online, but it had been nothing compared to seeing it in person.

Online
, he thought, and nearly laughed aloud. He looked around carefully for the first time, saw the people dressed in ancient garb, saw the lack of cars and any modern conveniences, and marveled at how many years these people were from knowing what online meant.

Sam focused. He sensed Kyle behind those walls. He tightened his fist, preparing for battle.

Sam took off at a sprint for the structure. He felt deep down that he was at least as strong as Kyle, and if he was going to die fighting him, better to get it over with.

Sam ran up the steps and put his shoulder into the huge, open doors; oddly, they were already ajar, as if waiting.

He found himself running down the corridor and right into the center of the main, circular room of the Pantheon. He braced himself, ready for a fight, ready to confront Kyle, ready to go down swinging.

But as he finished charging into the room, as he stopped and looked around, to his surprise, he saw that the room was completely empty. His footsteps echoed off the walls, off the huge dome ceiling, off the marble floor, as he turned in every direction, looking for Kyle, looking for any adversary.

He was stunned. He’d felt certain that Kyle was here, and had never before been so misled by his senses. Was this some sort of trick?

Before he could finish the thought, Sam suddenly felt something moving towards him, impossibly fast, and at the last second, he looked up to see what it was. Hundreds of vampires, their wings out spread like bats, had been clinging to the ceiling, waiting for him.

They now all dropped like spiders, diving right for him, hundreds of them, only feet away.

It was too late for him to react. All Sam could see was the terrible blackness of hundreds of vampires descending, eager to devour its prey. Their squeals and snarls were horrible, and as their huge wings wrapped around him from every direction, he could not help but wonder if this would be the last thing he saw on earth.

Caitlin stood there, stunned. She could not believe that it was really Polly. She looked exactly the same as she had, with her distinctive translucent white skin, her light brown hair, and her blue eyes, large and shining. She also looked the same age, somewhere around 18. Rationally, Caitlin knew that she should have expected this; but seeing it face to face threw her completely off guard.

Polly broke into a wide smile, grinning from ear to ear, displaying her beautiful, white teeth—the exact smile that Caitlin remembered. It was uncanny. And it felt so good to recognize someone. For the first time, Caitlin didn’t feel so alone.

“Well, you sure know how to fight, don’t you?” Polly asked. It was the same accent, the same voice, the same mannerisms. Polly examined Caitlin for a moment, and something like recognition seemed to cross her face, and then quickly went away.

“I’m Polly,” she said, extending her hand. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

Caitlin didn’t know what to say. She was really shocked. If there was anything more uncanny than seeing Polly again, it was having Polly not recognize her, as if she were a complete stranger, as if they had never met, never shared any of their experiences on Pollepel.

Of course, Caitlin knew there was no reason why Polly
would
remember her; after all, Caitlin had come
back
in time, not forwards. Still, Caitlin had known her so well, so vividly. It was completely eerie. She almost wondered if Polly were kidding, just testing her?

Caitlin reached out and shook her hand.

“Polly,” she said, “it’s me. Caitlin.”

Polly stared back, and her face wrinkled in confusion. Finally, Caitlin realized that it was true: Polly really had no idea who she was.

“I’m sorry,” Polly answered, “have we met? I’m afraid I don’t recall. Forgive me if we have. I am terrible with names and faces. Caitlin is your name? That’s a pretty one. Anyway, now that we’ve
officially
met, I’m sure glad to meet you. You really saved me,” Polly said, surveying the three unconscious brutes, still lying in the alley. “They were a rotten sort.”

Rose came running over to Polly, whining and wagging her tail hysterically.

Polly’s eyes opened wide in delight, as she bent over and petted her. “And what have we here?”

she asked.

“Her name is Rose,” Caitlin said. It was clear Rose remembered Polly, and it was equally clear that Polly didn’t remember her.

Still, Polly showed Rose as much affection as she once had.

“Rose,” Polly said, hugging her as Rose licked her cheek. “What a darling name.” Polly laughed.

“Now now, Rose!” Polly said. “My God, she’s so excited! You’d think that she knew me!”

Caitlin smiled. “Yes, you would think,” she said.

One of the unconscious men groaned, and Polly suddenly surveyed the alleyway. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, and took Caitlin’s arm in hers, and guided her out the alleyway, Rose by their side.

They walked, arm in arm, like new best friends, down the side streets of Venice, Polly leading the way. Polly was so happy, she was practically skipping, and Caitlin was thrilled to see how happy Rose was. Even though Polly didn’t remember, it still felt like they knew each other forever. Just like the first time they’d met in Pollepel.

“I don’t know how to repay you,” Polly said. “Those men didn’t mean me the best, to put it lightly. It’s my own fault, really. Aiden warned us to never venture out alone. Safety in numbers, that’s what he says. I’m strong—don’t think I’m not—but today I’m not at my full strength, and they caught me off guard. I’m much stronger at night. It would’ve ended badly, I’m sure of it. At the very least, it would have put me out of commission for tonight, and that simply wouldn’t do.”

Caitlin tried to keep up. Just as she remembered, Polly talked so fast, she could barely get a word in. It warmed her heart to be back with her, to be back by her best friend’s side, even if Polly couldn’t remember. She hoped that maybe, over time, Polly would remember. If not, she’d be more than happy to begin their friendship all over again.

More importantly, Caitlin was struck by her reference. Had she said
Aiden
? Could it be?