Chapter 8
Carlisle had talked with Rosalie, who happily obliged to his requests of tracking down the scheming boys. Neither of them knew the serious nature of the underlying cause to their edginess, so each of them were having an equal amount of fun trying to figure it out.
Rosalie right off the bat didn't buy the whole betting story that Caleb had come up with. From Carlisle's explanation, she thought it sounded fabricated.
He had agreed, and so she agreed to head over there. As a last resort, the two of the decided they would call upon Edward, though Carlisle didn't want to take him away from his newborn son if he didn't have to, and Rosalie just flat out didn't want to admit that she needed his help.
The baseball game didn't start until seven o'clock, but Caleb had left the house only minutes before to go to William and Maddy's house.
Carlisle sat at the desk in his office, reading an article that an old friend from the local hospital had sent him. It was medical related, and he found it interesting enough to read through.
Downstairs, Esme sat with Alice, Nicole and Mackenzie. The four of them had on a the movie Mean Girls, at the request of Nicole and Mackenzie. They laughed every so often, and at some point, Alice and Michael arrived to join them.
Carlisle smiled to himself, taking a mental break from what he was doing to acknowledge how happy their group was downstairs. He'd picked up on Esme's genuine laughter on several occasions and it made him feel good inside. On the same note, Marshall continued his attempts to communicate with them and the image of his son's happy expressions was priceless.
He glanced up at the clock, as it read quarter to seven. Rosalie wasn't scheduled to make an appearance until about half way into the game, so Carlisle wasn't exactly waiting by the phone for her call. He hoped whatever was going on between William and Caleb wasn't something to worry about, but he assumed it was a little minor trouble that boys tended to get themselves into from time to time.
With that, he converted his thoughts back to business, and began to focus on some updated medical procedures.
...
Caleb stood up from where he sat mindlessly watching the baseball game. Delilah looked at him, and he turned to face her. "I'm going to blow off a little steam, alright. I'll be back."
"Where are you going?" she asked him at the same time as Maddy.
"I'm going for a walk. The sun's about down, so I'll be fine."
"Want me to come?" Delilah asked him.
He shook his head. "I'll be back in an hour."
The hurt expression on her face made him approach her, as he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "Del," Caleb said, "How about if me and you go for a long walk and talk tonight?" he asked her, "I'm sorry I've been out of my mind lately."
She nodded, seeming to be drawn in by his offer. "I'd like to do that."
He touched her face, then kissed her forehead, then her lips. "I love you. Thanks for putting up with me this week."
"I love you too," she replied, taking his hand in hers for a moment. "Please be careful."
William and Maddy looked on at their interaction.
"Sure you don't want some company?" William asked him. "Don't do anything... stupid."
"I'm not," Caleb assured him calmly. "I just need a few minutes on my own to clear my mind. It's nothing against anyone, I just need to breath... and think."
They all nodded, understanding his position on the matter. He leaned in and kissed Delilah once more, then looked her in the eye.
"I'll be back," he said.
She nodded again and watched him slowly walk out the door.
The sound of a car engine filled the air and he pulled his way out of the driveway, away from the stuffiness of the house. He cracked a window, then completely rolled it down when he realized the only thing left of the sun was an orange glow that stuck in half of the summer sky. The top half of the atmosphere was a mixture of dark blues and purples. Stars were beginning to make their way out and a crescent moon fully presented itself amongst them all.
Caleb's eyes shot to the radio, and he turned it on lightly to play some low key acoustic music as he went. The feel of the breeze trickled off his left as he hung it from the open window. For whatever reason, the wind felt better than usual; better than when he ran, or when he was tracking an animal. All he focused on was the soothing sensation, and just for a moment, it eased his mind.
He wandered down the coast for about twenty-five minutes, finding himself in a different part of the small beach town that the tragic events of the week before had taken place. He steered clear of the cliffs where it happened, and off the beach itself, but parked his car on the side of small street near the water where a number of little shops hung in a row.
Townspeople gathered in groups, walking up and down the peaceful area. Mothers held their children's hands; fathers stuffed their faces with fried dough, or clam fritters; teenagers chatted and laughed in small cliques as they enjoyed the summer night.
Caleb listened hard and could hear the crash of the waves in the immediate distance. He didn't know whether to find it peaceful, or taunting. It instantly reminded him of the night he'd come to blows with Carter Mancini, only to leave the man wishing he hadn't picked a fight the four of them that evening.
He wasn't wishing anything at all, he tought, the guy's dead.
A loud boom made him jump, and he looked up into the darkened sky. People cheered and blew fog horns as another fireworks show began down by the water off one of the docks, or from the beach.
He sighed and closed his eyes, then shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and kept walking. For some reason he was waiting for something to happen; he was waiting to come face to face with the man who had attacked them on the beach. With every turn came another face in the crowd, and he began to scan the features of those around him in a increasingly obsessive compulsive fashion.
The happiness and laughter; the sound of flip flops and beer cans being opened... it all began to sound deafening and overwhelming until he couldn't take it anymore.
Caleb took a deep breath and rounded the corner onto a more deserted side street. There were one or two shops, both closed for the night, and the road lead toward a quieter portion of the main beach.
Leftover decorations from the fourth of July still hung in their proud reds, whites and blues. It made the street feel even more alone as the holiday had come and gone awhile ago.
The last two little businesses before the stretch of boardwalk and fishing docks were a seafood stocking area, and tiny banquet hall that looked as if it hadn't been cleaned since it's last event, which by the smell of the stale beer and popcorn, Caleb assumed was earlier in the day. A crooked, paper sign hung on the door that indicated some type of singing competition had taken place.
Caleb sighed and pushed an empty bottle away from his foot on the sandy road. He then began to climb the set of three of four stairs that went up onto the dusty boardwalk, but felt an unexpected jolt on his back.
A pair of hands grabbed him roughly and shoved him hard through the weak, double doors of the small hall, sending shards of wood in all directions.
He stumbled just into the building, looking around with wide eyes for what had just taken place. Before he could even process the threat he was being heaved into the wall, sending half of the building crashing down on top of him.
Caleb covered his head, as beams of wood continued to cover him, all the while the smell of gasoline began to fill his nose and the familiar flames he knew all too well began to dance near by.
He felt a wave of panic rush through his body, and realized quickly why he couldn't get up from his place on the ground. Internally, he wanted to call out for help, but he knew it wouldn't do any good.
A tall figure in a dark robe stood above him, and stood will black boots firmly on either of Caleb's arms. He continued to empty the can of gasoline in the immediate area, letting it drip onto Caleb's long-sleeve t-shirt and jeans.
"Stop!" he cried out, feeling as if he was about to cry. He tried desperately to find the scent of his attacker but he couldn't. There was none. "Who are you!?" he screamed just as frantically.
The hood hung around the immortal's face just perfectly enough where he couldn't make out his features.
Caleb felt like his life was flashing before his eyes. He felt physically helpless for the first time in his life.
The gas drum dangled menacingly above his head, and there was nothing else that came to mind but a serious of apologies.
Caleb knew what was happening was no coincidence, and so he prayed that his words of regret and remorse would somehow effect his outcome.
