On the Edge of Humanity (6 page)

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Authors: S. B. Alexander

BOOK: On the Edge of Humanity
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“How can he help? He can’t keep that animal from finding us and the cops are probably looking for us too. Maybe they think we beat Officer Bradley.”

“Jo. You heard Neil. The nurses saw the whole thing. How can we be blamed for that?” He rubbed the bottom of his jaw.

I still didn’t trust the cops, although Officer Bradley had seemed nice. As I thought about the officer, I couldn’t get the image out of my mind of his feet dangling in the air while that beast strangled him. I swallowed.
Hope he’s okay.

As Sam paced the floor, I thought about Mr. Jackson. He was always kind to me, especially when Blake and I ended up in his office. Sam wouldn’t do anything he didn’t feel was right. And right now, I desperately needed a shower.

I looked up from the desk chair. Sam was staring at me.

“What?”

“Jo, is that blood on your neck?”

“What!” I grabbed the right side.

“No, the other side.” Sam walked around the desk. “Stand up. Tilt your head to your right.”

“Is it blood?” My voiced quavered as my pulse raced.

It can’t be. How did I get it on my neck? My cheek isn’t bleeding.

Then the image of fangs flashed in my mind.

Sam’s finger scratched my neck. “Did someone bite you last night?”

“Shut up!” I punched his arm and my fist hit his hard bicep. “Well?”

“There are two holes...” Sam’s lips curled at the sides.

“No way!” I rubbed my hand over my neck. The skin was smooth and dry.

He held out his hand, laughing. “It’s just the red lint from that nasty couch. It was stuck to your neck.”

“You’re a jerk sometimes.” I took one step forward with my heart in my throat.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. You should’ve seen the look on your face. I know how much you like vampires.”

At the mere mention of the word, I shivered.

“Listen. I didn’t want to tell you, but the guy at the hospital, the one chasing us... Um, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“Just say it. It can’t be that bad.”

He had no idea.

“When I opened the door and saw the bandana guy squeezing the air out of the cop, he smiled at me.”

“So what? He smiled at you,” Sam said. “You know how men are around you.”

I did know all too well. In my mind, they were weird as hell. I didn’t understand what their attraction was with me. Did they think I was pretty? I didn’t think I was pretty.

“Shut up. I’m trying to tell you that the guy had these long canine teeth. One of them even had blood on it. I think he bit the cop,” I said as I stared at Sam.

“Have you been sneaking around reading vampire books? Do you hear yourself?”

“Fine. Don’t believe me. I know what I saw. And I didn’t say he was a vampire. He just had these long creepy-looking teeth and really black eyes. Plus he was huge. Like seven feet tall. You didn’t see him strangling that cop.” I plopped down in the chair as I touched the left side of my neck. A flurry of panic surfaced. Someone had been in this room while we slept last night. I could feel it.

“Well, hopefully he’s long gone,” he said.

I hoped and prayed I would never see that man again. As it was, I was going to have nightmares for the rest of my life.

“I’m going to that store Neil said was down the street and get us something to eat.”

“No way.”

“But we need food.” Sam touched his stomach.

“No. Don’t leave me here alone. Isn’t there a refrigerator downstairs?”

“Yeah, so? If there’s food in it, it’s probably nasty. I’ll check, but if not, I’m going to the store.”

Before I could protest, Sam turned and walked out.

I stood up and walked over to the bookshelves, reading the spines as I trailed my fingers along the edges of the leather-bound covers. Not that I wanted something to read, just anything to distract me while Sam was gone. It looked as if Neil’s dad had a specific filing system. Each shelf was dedicated to certain authors. Shirley Jackson and Mark Twain commandeered one shelf while another displayed books by two of my favorite authors, Stephen King and Edgar Allen Poe.

In one bookcase over on the same level as Mr. King and Mr. Poe, the shelf had a line of books on embalming. My fingers landed on a book titled
The Embalming Process
. Curious, I pulled it out and skimmed the opening pages. One chapter was dedicated to arterial embalming. I read through the first few lines as the author explained how blood and interstitial fluids were…

I didn’t get past the word
blood
. Then it dawned on me. Maybe somewhere in the sea of books I might find something on blood types. I inserted the embalming book back into its home.

I knelt down. I scanned the line of books on the bottom shelf. One caught my attention—
The Science Behind Vampires
. I swallowed a screech—vampires?
Here we go again. The word
blood
and now
vampires
. I can’t seem to get away from them.

My hands shook as I pulled the book slowly from its resting spot next to
The Vampire’s Life
. I didn’t know there was a science to vampires.
Aren’t vampires only a fantasy of the young generation—dark romance and all that?
The books spun in front of me and my vision blurred. A chill rippled up my arms. I grabbed both books and sat down on the couch.

I opened
The Science Behind Vampires
first and thumbed through it. I scanned the list on the contents page. The title of the first chapter—
Creating a Vampire
. My gaze stilled when I read the title of chapter two—
Blood Thirst
. I immediately flipped to it. I took a deep breath and began reading.

Vampires require a large of intake of iron. The iron helps to gather oxygen from the lungs then provide it to all the other body tissues. Since blood has a high iron content, it’s a great source of food for vampires, which is why they need it to survive. When vampires are low on iron, their hunger surfaces and they crave blood. Older vampires know how to control their hunger. They’ve learned to drink only what is needed to survive.

My head spun. I thought I was seeing vampires, now I was reading about vampires, not to mention how my own blood tasted like candy. Was someone trying to tell me something?
This is crazy.

I re-read the page again. Huh? Were my iron levels low? Was that the reason why I craved blood? Did it mean I was a vampire? I laughed nervously, the sound stifled.
Me a vampire? Yeah, right.

A warm breeze grazed my neck and I let out a low scream.

“Scary stuff in the vampire book?” Sam grabbed the book from me.

“Hey, give it back. I’m not finished reading.”

“You hate vampires. Wait. You think you’re seeing vampires and now you’re reading about them.” He touched my forehead. “Nope, your temperature feels human. You’re not cold-blooded.” Then he read the title of the book out loud. “
The Science Behind Vampires,
” he intoned. “Did you learn anything?”

“I learned how to turn you into a vampire.”

“Yeah? How?” he asked.

“Seriously, Sam. Aren’t you experiencing any weird changes?”

“Yeah. But that doesn’t mean I’m a vampire.” He laughed nervously.

“I’m learning that I like the taste of...”

“Taste of what?” He sat down staring at the book.

“You know?”

Sam’s head was staring at the cover of
The Science Behind Vampires
. He wasn’t laughing anymore. He had to process information before he weighed in on a topic, unless the topic involved immediate physical reaction, then he never hesitated. I hated when he didn’t speak. It always made me feel like I was crazy or he didn’t believe me.

“I know because you told me.” He picked up his head and a tear pooled in his left eye. “You don’t remember?”

I shook my head.

“One of the last things you said to me before you passed out the other night… ‘I want more blood.’” He swallowed. “My heart skipped a thousand beats when you said that to me. After I…I…swung the bat at Cliff, blood spattered everywhere. Some of it sprayed on my face and into my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but it tasted…peppery. A sudden urge exploded inside me.” Sam let out a loud sigh, as if he just released the weight of the world from his shoulders.

My eyes didn’t move as I stared at Sam. My tastebuds perked up as he described the spiciness of the blood. Funny, I found it sweet to the taste.
Focus, focus.

Silence filled the room for what seemed like an eternity. I cleared my throat. “Did you know your eyes changed color?”

He nodded and combed his long fingers through his hair. “The other day I got into a scuffle with an ump. He called me out for stealing second base. We were nose to nose yelling when all of sudden he stopped. It wasn’t until Ben came over to calm me down that I found out why—he asked me why my eyes were changing colors. Of course, Ben thought that was the coolest thing.” Sam lowered his head in his hands. Then he rose from the couch and ambled over to the window.

A sharp pain stung my chest as I studied him. A shadow outlined his eyes, making him look as if he rose this morning out of one of the coffins here in the funeral home. Stubble dotted his face just beneath his broad cheekbones. In that moment, Sam looked as if he had aged ten years. His Pink Floyd t-shirt showed every muscle, as if he grew out of it overnight.

“Dr. Case said my blood type was ‘AF’ negative.”

“Yeah, I heard that conversation,” Sam said in a low voice.

“Do you think that means anything?”

“Well, we’re not aliens or anything.” He continued to gaze out the window.

“Since we’re twins, wouldn’t we have the same blood type?”

“I don’t know.”

He turned his gaze from the window to me. “I found some bottles of water and a box of crackers.”

I rose from the couch and grabbed a bottle of water off the desk. Sam walked over and hugged me. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

Sam always made me feel safe. I hated that he carried the weight of the world around with him. I knew a lot of his anxiety stemmed from me. He was always bailing me out of tough situations only to get himself in trouble. He had been my guardian angel. I vowed to myself from this day on I would shoulder some of the load in our brother and sister relationship—at least, I would try.

I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed as hard as I could. Tears cascaded down my face as he squeezed back. After a few seconds, he let go. I patted my eyes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, then grabbed a few crackers.

“I called Ben,” Sam said.

“And?” I bit into one cracker.

“His dad is out of town. He said we could crash there tonight and we can talk to Mr. Jackson when he gets home tomorrow. He went to a principals’ conference or something for the weekend.”

“How’re we getting there?”

“Taxi,” Sam said. “I’ve already called.”

We finished all the water and the box of crackers. Before leaving the room, I grabbed both books on vampires and followed Sam downstairs.

No question, we were better off at Ben’s than this funeral home, but I wasn’t sure if Mr. Jackson would be as understanding as Sam thought. By this time tomorrow, Sam and I could be on our way to yet another foster home—or jail.

Chapter 5

I
rummaged around in a downstairs
closet and found a pair of boots and a sweater to replace the beat up Nikes and the gorilla sweatshirt. Sam wrote Neil a note thanking him for his help and letting him know about the clothes I borrowed, and that I would return them the first chance I got. He signed the bottom, saying he would see him at school next week.

The cab was parked in the driveway when I walked out the front door.

The cold air stung my cheeks as I descended the front porch. I scanned the neighborhood and my gaze drifted towards the park. A few cars sat in the parking lot now. A handful of kids were ice-skating while their parents lingered nearby wrapped in blankets, watching them. At the far end of the parking lot, my gaze landed on a black SUV. I stopped midstride, trying to get a better view, but I slipped off the last step, landing face first in the soft snow. Shit! I planted my palms on the wet, cold ground, pushed off and got up. I spit out a mouthful of ice crystals when Sam touched my shoulder.

“Did you forget how to walk?”

I glared at him as we made our way to the cab that was idling in the driveway. I focused on the park, searching for the SUV, but as we slid into the cab, I couldn’t see it anymore. It probably wasn’t worth telling Sam. He was already paranoid and he would just think I was crazy. After all, anyone can drive a black SUV.

The cabby looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Where to, folks?”

“Riverside,” Sam replied. “Twenty-two Ash Street.”

The driver pressed a button on his meter that was bolted to the dashboard. The cab hadn’t moved an inch and the meter had already charged us two dollars and fifty cents. He put the car in reverse and the tires crunched over the snow as he backed out. He talked into a two-way radio, sending the dispatcher the address of our final destination.

As the cab accelerated down the street, I surveyed the neighborhood. Several homes were boarded up with a
For Sale
sign staked to the ground in every yard.
A homeless man slept on the porch of one of the empty dwellings with his shopping cart full of trash bags parked at the foot of the steps. Another residence had a car in the driveway sitting on its rims while two young men leaned against it, sharing a paper bag of who knew what. The entire neighborhood looked as if the world had died in this part of town.

We crossed over a main intersection and the tenor of the area changed. The driveways had cars parked in them with tires attached. I spotted a man through his bay window sitting in his chair reading the paper. Smoke trickled out of several chimneys. The world on this side was alive and thriving.

I turned and peered out the back window, curious to see if one road could split the same city into two different worlds, but a maroon car followed, blocking my view of the neighborhood we just left behind. I was about to turn my head when the maroon car turned down a side street and a black SUV came into view. My muscles tensed. I slid Sam a sideways glance.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“I think the car behind is following us.” I flicked my head back.

Sam turned and looked. “Hey, man, can you pull into that gas station up ahead?” Sam asked the cabby.

“I thought you—”

“I just need to run in and get something,” Sam said.

The cab rolled into the gas station and parked in front of the store. Sam grabbed the handle on the door, but didn’t move.

I turned my head and the black SUV drove past the gas station.

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