Chapter 74 #3
He was my hunter. I trained my eyes only on where I needed to place my hands, thought only about what I needed to find.
I found no bumps in the front pockets. I lowered myself down to my knees.
I put one hand on his hip, the other on his shoulder and pushed.
He was a big man, over two hundred odd pounds of sweaty, ugly, evil.
With soft, floppy limbs that seemed to gravitate to the earth, as if hell itself was already clawing for his soul.
I gritted my teeth against it and pushed on his side with all my strength. Pain bit through my chest and the pressure against my head made it boom with sickening intensity, I fought the urge to cry out. Dots raided my eyes. His body rocked but I wasn’t strong enough to roll him over.
Dead weight, I thought. I snorted laughter. A tear slid down my cheek.
“Amelia, let me do it.”
“I got it,” I snapped.
In my distraught mind I thought if, somehow, I could do it without the need of my powers, it would mean I could take care of myself.
Strength of body equated to strength of mind.
I wouldn’t be useless, nor helpless. It was illogical—stupid.
But in that moment basic primal thought was all I was capable of processing.
I tensed and heaved again. A click in my ribs shot pain like a lightning bolt through my chest. I bit my lips so I wouldn’t cry out, fresh blood dribbled into my mouth.
I almost let go, but determination and brutal will took precedence.
His body lifted and I got traction. I held it and pushed again.
He rolled to his side. His arm flopped forward.
His guts slugged out onto the ground. I didn’t look at any of it, as if my eyes, or perhaps my consciousness, took on the horror with all the detachment of a psychopath and buried empathy so deep it risked being lost forever.
I saw the tell-tale rectangular lump of his phone.
With a final shove his whole body dropped to the ground with a sickening squelch like the sound of a tomato being squashed.
The world grayed and rolled dangerously.
I clutched at the ground to steady myself and shut my eyes, breathing in through my nose and out my mouth, until I felt the dizziness subside.
I opened my eyes and with fumbling fingers I retrieved the phone from his back pocket.
A black leather case had saved it from the fall.
I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking. I pressed the screen.
Missed the swipe button. Swearing and crying I tried again.
It was locked, it opened via fingerprint.
Karson moved off to the others to collect phones, wallets and any information he could get. I picked up the man’s lifeless finger and held it against the screen. The phone opened. I scanned through the messages. All had names assigned, bar one. I read that first.
It contained details of me, and a photo taken the day I sat at the café with Sarah and Georgie.
Where I lived, who I lived with, what I drove.
Images of both Ethan and Karson. The directions were to make sure that neither man was anywhere near when they came for me.
To bring me alive, unharmed. They didn’t always abide by the rules, evidently, and it came at their peril.
No mention of why or who. With effort, I rose.
Karson saw what I was about to do. He nodded, yes.
I pressed the number. Whoever it was probably already knew they’d failed, but it was worth a try. I put it on loudspeaker and the phone stopped ringing. Whoever was on the end of the line didn’t speak.
Impatient, Karson grabbed the phone from my hands.
“When I find you—and I will find you, make no mistake—I will kill you.”
A sharp breath. “You don’t realize it yet, but you’ve already lost . . . bastard.”
If her voice was poison, Karson would be dead. She hung up.
“Did you recognize the voice?” I asked.
His brow drew into deep lines. He shook his head.
I moved over to the discarded gun which lay on the ground.
Karson had it in his hands before I could bend down and he threw it into a black bag he held in one hand, containing his findings from the van.
I walked to the car in a zoned-out stupor.
Karson opened the door and pulled out the wipes, offering them to me.
On his chest, two coin-sized holes ringed with red tore through his gray t-shirt.
Horror arched my heart into my throat.
“Karson,” I rasped, “you’ve been shot.”
“They went straight through. My body has already healed,” he answered, as if he were talking about a small, insignificant scratch.
He held the wipes out again. I took one, wiped my hands roughly.
I grabbed another, and another, and another.
The last one I took I used to wipe my face gingerly.
The cool, wet wipe was soothing and I held it planted on my face for a moment.
The taste of blood and stale saliva coated my mouth.
I moved off to the side and spat it out.
I felt his gaze on my face as I climbed into the car, but I didn’t look at him. I was still wrapped in a bubble of my own personal hell for being driven to be someone, something, I didn’t recognize.
Something—that was more like it. What I’d done, diving through a dead man’s remains like he was nothing but trash, was as inhumane and almost as dark as Karson’s actions.
We drove past the van and the bloodied bodies, back toward town.
I closed my eyes. I’d seen enough. I knew it was only a matter of time before what I’d seen would replay in my head and haunt me.
At least, right now, part of me hoped it would.
If it didn’t, I knew instinctively, I was on a slippery slope to nowhere good.
Karson was on the phone again. “Road just outside of town, four.” He hung up.
“Let me guess, another car accident?”
He didn’t answer; he didn’t need to. I placed my head back on the seat and shut my eyes again.
The car was warm, and yet my body began to shiver uncontrollably.
I heard the heaters click on, felt the stream of hot air caress my face and chest, but it did nothing to warm me.
I replayed the night behind the dark curtain of my mind, searching for clues.
The van parked between me and my car. The men getting out.
Two others dressed in black, both wearing hoodies, slinking through the trees in the park across the road.
I remembered now, when I took my ring off, I’d felt their energies–they were faster than a normal humans’, but I wasn’t sure if it was vampire or witch.
My eyes sprung open, I turned to Karson and spoke hesitantly, “There were two more, watching from across the road. Not humans, but I don’t know if they were witches or vampires.”
“And you only thought to tell me this now?” His voice was so brutal it sent bullets through my skull. I cringed. “Did you use your powers?”
“Yes, I had to.”
He rubbed his forehead roughly in frustration. “We can’t leave them alive, they may come for you again, they could tell others about you. What did they look like?”
“I don’t know, it was dark, I didn’t get a good look at them.”
He made another call, relaying what I’d just told him.
My head began to pound. Nausea punched me in the stomach. I swallowed hard to keep it down. I reached up to rub my aching temples.
“Pull over,” I murmured. He pulled over with a scowl.
I opened the door. My legs felt like they were made of rubber.
The world spun. I took a few shaky steps away and vomited.
The force of it sent pain so deep through my head and chest, my vision went black for a long moment.
Tears sprung to my eyes and trickled down my face.
I wobbled dangerously to the side and retched again.
Karson clutched my arm and held me steady. “You have a concussion. I’m taking you to Page.”
I shook my head, swallowed down the burn in my throat and patted the tears from my face.
“I just want to go home, please.”