Living in Darkness (Bloodbreeders) (8 page)

BOOK: Living in Darkness (Bloodbreeders)
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“Maybe I just need to eat,” I reassured myself. Even a cold glass of
water sounded good. I remembered that Pecan Creek ran all through this county,
and right close to the farm. I would get a good, long drink when I got to it.
The thought alone made my mouth dry.

Before long,
I could hear the running water, and a
couple of seconds later
,
I could smell it
. I
moved toward the sound as fast as my legs would let me, which wasn’t very fast
at all, but soon enough the creek came into view. I started searching for a
spot on the bank to climb down, and found a place that didn’t look to steep. I
started down carefully, but not carefully enough. I lost my footing, and slid
down the rocky incline. It wasn’t a very long drop, only about six feet, but
that didn’t stop the rocks from getting me. I landed in the creek-bed, covered
in scrapes and mud, with a somewhat bruised pride. As I picked myself up, I
noticed that mud had firmly imbedded itself under my nails, and was plastered all
over my dress.
Not that I looked too good to begin with, but
on top of the dried blood from the night before, now I was an even bigger mess.
I thought for a moment about jumping in the creek to clean myself off, but I
was in too much of a hurry. Who knew when Martin would find me, and start
dragging me back to that damned crypt?

So, I simply washed my hands, and started scooping handfuls of water
into my mouth. I drank until I was full. I sat up, savoring the crisp taste of
the fresh water, and enjoying the way it felt to my mouth. My lip was far
better tonight than I thought it would be, but the water was still especially soothing.
My stomach, on the other hand, was a different story. The contents of my
stomach were not only churning, they were coming back up. If I hadn’t still
been kneeling, it would have put me back down.

I began to heave, and didn’t stop until I was empty. The pain had
returned, worse now than before I drank. It didn’t matter. I struggled to
stand, and forced myself to walk, telling myself,
One foot in front of the other
. I knew the farm was less than a
mile from where I was, and I had to keep going. No way could I have come this
far only to stop now. I found an easier way up the bank, and before I knew it,
I was on the little dirt road that led to the farm.

I approached quietly, trying not to get too close. After seeing my
grave, I knew I couldn’t be seen. I moved as silently as possible, trying not
to spook the animals. They could make an awful ruckus, and knowing that when my
father heard his chickens, I treaded lighter. He would come out the door with
his shotgun within seconds of hearing the chickens. He always said, “I know
them critters need to eat too, but they can darn well do it elsewhere.” Mother
would just smile, shake her head, and say, “Come on back in here, pa. You’re in
yer
bare feet. Don’t worry them coons won’t take
yer
breakfast.” My father would laugh heartily, swing the
old shotgun over his shoulder, and say, “Okay, Ma, but I want buttermilk
pancakes with honey and butter, if they do.” Before she’d let him in, I’d always
hear her say, “Be sure and clean
yer
feet before you
crawl back in my sheets, Mr. Crocker.” “
Yes’m
,” he
would say, smacking her on the behind as he passed her in the door. Every time,
without fail, she would let out a little yelp, and I am positive she blushed. I
remember laying in my bed on many a night, dreaming of having the life my folks
had.

One thing is certain. I can forget all that now. I would never again
hear my folks joke, or see my brothers and sister frolic around the farm. This
was the last time I would be able to lay eyes on the life I once had. I was
about twenty yards from the house when the front door flew open, and out
stepped little Johnny. My precious, little Johnny. Like I said, I often felt he
was as much mine as he was my mothers. I was around as much, if not more, than
she was, with helping my father selling the farm goods and all. He was on his way
to the outhouse, no doubt. My heart grew warm as I watched him yawn, and
stretch his little arms towards the heavens. He bounced off the porch, and on
tiptoes, ran to the outhouse.

If this was my last time seeing him, I had to get closer. I wanted,
maybe even needed, more. I made my way around, and got up right next to the
house. Johnny unexpectedly flung open the door to the outhouse, as I attempted to
duck behind the wood pile, but it was too late, I had already been seen.

“Renee? Is that you?” Johnny called out.

All I could do was nod, and try to imagine what he must be thinking. Mud
and filth were caked all over me, and my hair was a tangled rat’s nest. He
stepped out, and shut the door. I didn’t want him to fear me, because it would
kill me. But my fear of his thoughts about me being dead, were soon taken away
when I saw the look on his little face, and it brought tears to my eyes.

“You
ain’t
dead with Grandma in heaven?” he
asked.

“No, baby, I’m not,” I said, but before I could say another word, he
was running full speed towards me, his arms spread wide. He jumped into my
arms, and wrapped his around my neck.

“I knew you’d come home,” he said cheerfully. “I just knew it. Now mama
can be happy again.”

“I can’t stay, baby,” I said, stroking his baby-fine hair. “And I can’t
come back again. I just had to see you one more time. You can’t tell anyone,
okay?”

“Why?” he asked, tears already welling up into his big
blue eyes.
“I miss you. No one
swings me like you do. Everyone makes me sit still so Ma can rest. Please,
stay.”

“I can’t, honey. I just can’t.” We held each other, and we both cried. I
held Johnny tight, his little head resting on my shoulder, while I started our
little spin, whispering softly his favorite story of Pinocchio.

Without warning, the pain hit again, my body started to tingle, and my
mind became fuzzy. I felt myself slumping towards the ground, and the last
thing I heard was Johnny asking, “Renee, are you okay?” And that was it. When I
came back around, I was on my knees, doing something that brought what little
life I had crashing down around me. I was feeding on my four year old brother.
I released so fast, that his little head whipped forward before falling back. Sobbing,
I cradled him as if he was asleep, but I knew that I had just killed the one
thing that I loved the most. I couldn’t believe it. I stared down at his
angelic face in disbelief. How could it be? Oh, God, what have I done?

I lowered his lifeless body to the ground. I placed my forehead on his
chest, and continued to weep. After a moment, I sat up and kissed first his
head, then his lips.

“Forgive me, Johnny,” I said, between sobs. “Because, I know I will
never forgive myself.” I touched his head one last time, and then I stood and
ran. To where, I didn’t know, I just kept running, not understanding at that
time that it was his sweet blood that gave me that energy, that speed, that
life inside me like I had never known.

My eyes were blurred by tears, and I never saw the large mesquite limb
that hung in my path. I hit it, and I hit it hard. The limb broke, and so did
my arm. The collision tore a large gash into my shoulder. The impact knocked me
to the ground. I rolled onto my stomach and cried, not because of the pain but
for the horrific deed that I had just committed.
I will lie here
,
I
thought to myself,
and when the sun comes
up, I will pay
for what I did
.
My mind couldn’t put anything
together. It was so scrambled, that I couldn’t get any thoughts straight. The
only thing I knew for sure was that Johnny was dead, and it was my fault.

I felt someone kneel beside me, and heard a woman’s calm voice, “
Sh
,
sh
,
sh
,
child, everything’s okay now. I am here to help you.” I looked up momentarily
and recognized her as the woman I had seen in the graveyard.

“I’m a monster, a beast from hell,” I cried, hiding my face against the
damp ground.

“No, no, child. Do you think you are at fault for what just happened?”
she asked.

“You saw what I did, and you didn’t stop me?” I rolled over and looked
her square in the face. “I was out of my head. One minute there, then the
other... the other...” I began to cry again, but this time, with anger.

“It was too late when I arrived,” she said, hurriedly. “It was Martin
who made you do it. That’s why you don’t remember.”

“You’re lying,” I exclaimed. “He wouldn’t. He knows how much I love my
family.”

“He did, child. He is a very evil man. I have known him for more years than
you have been alive. He finds pleasure in controlling others.” She paused, and
then asked, “You would not feed, would you?”

“No, but I didn’t mean to...” I shook my head. “I never would have...”

“Yes, child, I know,” she said, quietly. “He did the same to me.” I stared
up into her face, searching for the truth. She appeared to be sincere.

“Is this true? Could everything all be lies?” I asked wiping my eyes
with the back of my hand. “If he did this, the sun will have to wait, because I
am going to kill that son of a bitch.”

“No, you must leave with us,” the woman quickly shook her head. “You
must let us protect you from him, or else you will surely take all of your
family, night after night, until they are no more.”

“Never,” I screamed. I tried to sit up, and for the first time,
realized that I had been hurt. I let out a gasp, and fell back against the
ground.

“Oh, you poor dear,” the woman said, almost motherly. “Let me take a
look.” She examined my arm, and then dressed my wound with a piece of my dress
she tore away. “Are you in much pain, child?” she asked.

“Does it matter?” I asked bitterly. “I deserve death as much as Martin.
It was my idea to go to the farm. If I had just....” She stopped me.

“Don’t you realize why he kept you so close?” she asked. “He knew you would
return. He bargained on it, for now you are one hundred percent our kind.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“Once you have taken life, it becomes easier the next time. You are a
new breed, so to speak, not one of the living, but more so of the damned.”

“He was just a little boy. He didn’t deserve to die, not like that. Not
by the hands of his sister,” I said, holding my face in my hands. Thoughts of
my mother flooded my mind. I may have very well just nailed her coffin as well.
To lose not one, but two children in a week’s time would be unthinkable. I
couldn’t stand the thought of her finding little Johnny in the morning, his
lifeless body sprawled out in the dirt.

“I have to go back, I have to move him. They can’t find him like that.”

“It has already been taken care of,” the woman said. “My men have
placed him back in his bed.”

I stared at her intensely, not knowing if she should be trusted.

“Who are you people?” I asked. “How did you know I would be here
tonight?”

“There will be time for explanations later...”

“That just so happens to be the exact same thing Martin said. It’s
always later. Why should I believe you any more than I did him?” I angrily
snapped before she could continue.

“Because,” she said. “I have already told you more truth in a few
moments than he has in days.”

I was frustrated, overwhelmed, and thought that maybe what she had just
said was true, but I still didn’t know whether or not to believe her. I had to
see if what she had said about my brother being placed in his bed was true for
my
own
 
satisfaction
.
I got to my feet and began heading back to the farm. She grabbed my arm, as if
to stop me, but the look that I gave her made her instantly nod and release me.

It was true. Johnny’s body was no longer where I had left it, and it
made me trust this woman a little more. I looked over my shoulder, and saw that
she had followed me here.

“See, child?” she said. “I have no reason to lie to you. Will you
please come with me now, before he finds us here?”

What option did I have? I couldn’t let Martin get his bloody hands on
me, only to make me kill those that I loved. I had to get as far from him as I
could, and she was the only person willing to help me.

“Okay, I’ll go with you.” I said. “But can you at least tell me where
we’re going?”

“Of course I can. We are headed to Corpus Christi a place by the
ocean.
” she said. “You have made a wise decision, child.”

“My name is Renee, and I’m no child.”

“Yes, I meant no disrespect,” she replied with a little nod. “Come,
now. Let us go.”

I looked back, knowing it would be the last time I would see my home,
but I knew that what I had done would stay with me until the end of my days, no
matter how long that might be. I could only hope and pray that my actions
wouldn’t take my mother as well. What would become of them now? I guess that
was something I would never know.

 

Chapter 7

 

By the time we stopped, I knew we had traveled at least seventeen
miles, because we had arrived in Cross Plains, a place I knew well. My family
and I brought our goods here yearly, and had done so for many years.

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