Chapter Twenty-Two
Sam warily eyed the khaki canvas bag as he tried to silence the niggling doubts prodding and poking at the back of his mind. Water guns filled with holy water, garlic bulbs and a crucifix, it all seemed so childish. Was it really enough to take down the Lost Boys? He could only hope that the daylight would give them some form of an advantage.
He, Edgar and Alan had spent most of the night strategising about how they were going to play-out the ambush once they got to the cave and unless shit hit the fan once they were there, the plan was that they were going to take down the easiest targets first which they believed to be Paul and Marko, before targeting the more challenging pack members – David and Dwayne. It was Edgar and Alan's belief that if they killed the head vampire which they all agreed had to be David, then if Flick had fallen prey to the dark-side then she'd be saved.
Sam knew that although Edgar and Alan seemed cock-sure and ready for action, deep down when it came time to come face-to-face with a creature that could rip of their heart in a fraction of a second, that they were just as scared as he was.
This wasn't just a story illustrated by cartoons in a comic book, this was real life.
"Time to put what we've been preparing for into action boys. Today's the day we slaughter those murdering assholes once and for all. Sam, we're trusting you to have our back, we're counting on you to do the job we're asking you to."
"You can count on me," Sam nodded.
"Even if it comes to staking your sister?" Alan quirked his brow.
"It won't come to that," Sam shook his head adamantly, wiping his sweat slick palms on his jeans.
"You hope," Edgar remarked solemnly.
"We should head out," Alan interrupted, glancing out of the window. It was early morning and the town was still quiet, the Lost Boys would all be out for the count, the daylight rendering them weak. Edgar slung the heavy rucksack over his shoulder and gave a stiff nod, gesturing for Sam and Alan to head out to their bikes while he locked up behind them.
Sam leant against the handlebars of his bike, staring out at the old, decrepit lighthouse in the distance. The briny, damp scent in the air and the old rusting fence cut a tense back-drop to what was about to happen and he shuddered, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to see and do.
Edgar hauled the rucksack from his back and set it on the floor with a heavy thud. He fished out the daggers and stakes, handing one each to Sam and Alan along with a water pistol. The boys tucked their weapons into the waistband of their jeans while Alan kept the UV lamp in hand along with his flashlight. "We'll need this to slow them down if they charge us," he stated, waving the lamp in the air.
"Let's move," Edgar commanded, exhaling a steady, determined breath.
The trio dropped down into the cave, sweeping the cavern with his flashlight. The cave looked in some ways like he'd imagined it would; dark, damp, dirty and crowded with rubble, but what he hadn't expected was to find the walls decorated with band and movie posters while make-shift mobiles made from shells and old, scratched CD's hung from the rocky ceiling on bits of frayed twine. Sam's flashlight landed on an alcove in the furthest corner of the cave, the area closed off with a pair of tatty, drawn velvet drapes. "I think someone's sleeping back there," he whispered, grabbing Edgar and Alan's attention.
"Well I'd say whoever's not behind those curtains is down there," Alan murmured, motioning with his flashlight to a dilapidated dirt tunnel a few feet from the alcove.
"See you on the other side boys," Edgar exhaled, gesturing for Alan and Sam to head down the tunnel while he crept towards the alcove.
Paul awoke to a blood-curdling scream. His eyes snapped open and his stomach lurched at the sight that greeted him. Flick was writhing on the bed with the handle of a dagger protruding from her left side, the blade of the knife buried right to the bone of her hip. He didn't have time to see who the had been the one to do it as when the blur of sleep cleared from his vision, he saw the pointed end of a stake heading straight for her heart. "No!" Paul roared and dove towards her chest, covering her with his body.
He howled in pain when the stake was driven through his shoulder seconds later and he felt like every nerve in his body and every inch of his skin was smothered in molten lava. Both he and Flick were covered in blood and the fire blazing inside him paired with the energy draining effects of the daylight was making his head fuzzy. Paul felt Flick shift beneath him, her panting breaths and agonised whimpers echoing in his mind but he couldn't seem to focus on what was happening. He was consumed with panic, panic that Flick would die and there was nothing he could do to save her. Paul was shoved onto his back which subsequently drove the stake deeper into his shoulder causing it to rip through his blazing skin on the opposite side. He growled in pain as dark spots danced in his vision.
Paul's vision momentarily cleared and the foggy image of Edgar's loathsome face came into view as he raised another stake over his head, this time over Paul's own heart. The fire burned inside him, the flames licking at his skin and he couldn't bring himself to move, he was paralysed. He was about to come to terms with the fact that he was about to die and prayed to whatever was out there to save Flick when a blur of movement crossed his vision and he could only watched as both Flick and Edgar hurtled towards the opposite wall.
In her weakened state, Flick wasn't able to recover from the impact as quickly as she usually would and Edgar managed to stumble to his feet, reaching to retrieve the stake that had slipped from his grip. Paul heard the tortured screams of his brother's and roared in both pain and anger, it was hard enough that he couldn't defend his mate but being unable to defend his brother's was a whole new level of torture. The sound of footsteps sprinting in his direction caught his attention and he strained to see beyond the alcove, the blurred silhouette of two more figures emerging from the tunnel making his chest tighten.
"Get the fuck away from her," he hissed through gritted teeth, clawing at the stake embedded in his shoulder but the fresh blood coating his hands made it hard for him to get a decent grip.
Black dots danced in front of her eyes while her hearing tunnelled in and out, the tortured screams and muffled shouts echoing throughout the cave drown out by the buzzing drone in her mind. Flick struggled to pull herself onto all fours, screaming bloody murder when she ripped out the dagger buried in her side finding that the burning inferno that had raged inside her slowly started to ebb. "Edgar what the hell did you do? This wasn't part of the plan," she heard Sam's horrified voice and raised her head to find Edgar, Alan and Sam staring down at her.
"She's one of them Sam, we could only save her if she was half-mortal – it's too late," Edgar panted, his eyes darting from her to Paul who was still laid immobile on the bed.
Paul's roars of pain resonated in her core and her carnal instinct to protect her mate overrode the fact that it was her little brother that she'd have to fight to defend him. Flick felt the familiar ache in her gums, no longer able to hold back the urge to phase. "Holy shit Flick!" she heard Sam yelp as she screamed like a howling cat and lunged in the boys direction.
"Fry her ass Alan!" she heard Edgar yell before she was flooded with light. The light blinded her, leaving her flailing in the air before she felt herself rocket towards the ground as an ear-piercing scream ripped from her throat when she felt her skin start to sear and burn. She felt like she'd been tossed on a fire, the torturous flames licking at her skin leaving her covered in bubbling, weeping blisters.
"Stop! You're killing her!" a familiar voice cut through her own piercing screams followed by the sound of a brief scuffle before the light burning her alive died out and the black mist over her eyes started to clear.
Flick hauled herself upright, falling back against the wall as she tried to get her bearings, the sound of raised voices and hissed accusations ringing in her ears. She keened in pain when the blisters on her arms burst on impact with the cold stone, the only thing keeping her from falling to her knees and admitting defeat being Paul's furious threats of bloody death to whoever was hurting her.
She stumbled in a daze towards the alcove, leaving the sniping, distracted trio behind her. She crawled onto the bed, almost collapsing on top of Paul from the pain and exhaustion overwhelming her. "Paul?" she croaked, pawing gingerly at his chest.
"I'm dying Flick," he rasped.
"You're not dying baby-" she whispered, her voice strained, "-it's the stake, it's covered in something, the second I yanked out the dagger the burning started to fade..."
"Get it out of me!" he growled, his hands gripping the sheets in a white-knuckled grip.
Flick shakily turned him onto his side and he howled in agony when she ripped the stake from his shoulder, her stomach wavering on hearing the sickening sound of torn muscle and ripped tendons. She tossed the stake to the floor panting from the exertion as Paul's growls of anguish started to lesson. "You son-of-a-fucking-bitch!" Paul screamed before launching himself off the bed with such speed it whipped her blood matted hair against her face.
Flick collapsed on the bed, watching through a dazed fog as Paul snatched up the dagger that had been buried in her hip and drove it straight into Edgar's eye socket before ripping the stake from his hand and embedded it in his stomach. Edgar dropped unceremoniously to the floor, his body violently convulsing before falling still, his blood pooling beneath him, staining the stone floor crimson.
Everything was happening so fast that Alan barely had time to grieve for his brother before Paul had him pinned beneath him, his claws tearing at his flesh. Flick coughed, sucking in air through her teeth as she fought through the pain that still held her tightly in it's grip, her blistering skin barely healed and pushed herself onto her knees. A flash of movement caught her attention by the tunnel and her head snapped up, her eyes widening when she saw Sam cowering against the wall, frozen in fear as Paul leapt to his feet with Alan's blood smeared across his face, his fangs and lips stained dark red.
As much as she was angry that Paul had been hurt and judging by the tortured screams she'd heard earlier, her newfound brothers hadn't faired much better, there was still something deep within her that flared to life, a deep-rooted need to protect her baby brother from the same fate as his misguided friends. Sam wasn't the mastermind behind the attack, he'd just been taken along for the ride. Furthermore, she new that Sam had tried to save her, he'd been the one to save her from that damn burning light, he'd said something about it not being the plan. Had this all been a bumbling attempt to save her? To save her soul?
"Sam-" she whispered, a sudden rush of adrenaline hitting her full-force, "-Paul no!" she yelled panicked as she saw Paul rounding on Sam with a murderous snarl on his face, his eyes a deep burning amber, flickering with rage like the dancing flames of a fire.
Flick knew Paul was in no mood or mind for reasoning, he was only able to respond to the animalistic instincts and urges overriding his ability to think or feel anything other than rage. Knowing that she had to move quick or watch her brother die painfully, she launched herself across the cavern, landing in a whimpering heap by Edgar and Alan's mutilated corpses. She fumbled for the light that had scorched her skin, holding it in trembling fingers, preparing herself for the aftermath of what she was about to do.
She aimed the lamp at Paul's back and flicked the switch just as he was about to attack and winced as his shrill screams rendered her temporarily deaf as his skin started to bubble and blister and he sagged unceremoniously to the floor. Flick set the lamp on the floor, the beam of burning light still aimed on Paul as she skirted around the puddles of congealed blood toward where Sam still stood frozen, his eyes wide and glossy from a mixture of fear and horror. "Run Sam," Flick panted, her body sagging against the wall beside him.
"I just wanted to save you," Sam sobbed, his watery blue eyes darting back and forth between her and Paul.
"I know Sam but it's too late, I made this choice – I don't need you to save me," she replied breathlessly.
"But I-"
"-Sam you need to run, you need to go now, get out of town," she exhaled.
"I can't leave you," Sam shook his head.
"You don't have a choice – I can't protect you forever Sam," she uttered, her eyes drifting to Paul's writhing, blistering body.
"I love you Flick, you'll always be my sister," he whispered.
"I love you too Sammy-" she forced a smile, shoving him in the direction of the incline, "-go..."
She watched as Sam stumbled and tripped his way across the cavern before scrambling up the incline and disappearing out of sight. The second Sam was out of danger, she staggered over to where she'd left the light and quickly shut it off, moving as fast as her legs could carry her to where Paul lay writhing in torment. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered as she cradled him in her arms.
Paul grit his teeth and growled and she knew first hand the amount of pain he was in for she herself was still suffering the lingering torture of her own weeping flesh. Flick was starting to feel herself start to slip into unconsciousness when inspiration struck, she needed something cool to override the burn – water. She could run the shower and the cold water could help them both battle through the pain, that's if she could make it to the bathroom without passing out.
"I got you baby," she murmured, grabbing Paul by the wrists and pulled him across the cavern unable to muster enough strength to lift him – she could barely lift her own weight.
She made it the bathroom only to find a familiar figure slumped in her path and she stifled a sob as her eyes drifted over Marko's blonde curls now matted with blood, the dried crusting patches almost seeming black in the low light. Her eyes wandered from his ashen face to the gaping hole in his chest where a stake had pierced his heart killing him almost instantly. "Fuck," she sobbed, unable to hold in her emotions as she dragged Paul's limp body further down the dirt tunnel.
Flick stopped to rest, her body close to giving out when she heard the distinct sound of dripping water and in a last ditch attempt to save Paul from further torture, she followed the sound deeper underground, whimpering, panting and sobbing her way through the dark maze of tunnels until she found herself in an unexplored cavern. The water she'd heard had been coming from the roof of the cavern, the source a thin trickling stream that ran between two walls of jutting rocks which collected in a pool of crystal-clear water where a natural light bled up from somewhere deep in its depths giving the water an azure blue hue, yet it was so clear that she could make out the small ledges and build up of stone just below the surface of the water.
She glanced down at Paul who'd fallen silent, his skin barely healing and she wondered whether it was due to the daylight hours making them weak or whatever Edgar and Alan had done to the stake and dagger they'd been wounded with. Either way, it was taking far too long for them to heal and she wasn't so sure how much more pain she could take.
Flick dragged Paul to the side of the pool, lowering herself into the surprisingly tepid water before gently pulling Paul forward and into the water to join her. Unable to hold Paul or her own weight any longer, Flick released her hold on his body and laid back, allowing her body to free-float alongside Paul as the water cooled her scorched, blistered skin and the daylight hours zapped the last remnants of energy she had in her reserves, the rocky roof of the cavern the last thing she saw before her world turned black.
Sam panted from exertion, staggering ungraciously as his bike hit the gravel of the drive, the wheels still spinning. His stomach wavered unfavourably as he practically fell through the front door in a jumble of jellified arms and legs. He slammed the door behind him, sagging back against the hard surface as he fought back tears. He managed to compose himself for all of a minute when he caught a glimpse of the blood that covered his clothes, the blood of his former friends.
His stomach violently lurched and his hand flew to his mouth when he felt the tell-tale tingle of his cheeks as his mouth filled with saliva. Pushing himself away from the door, Sam sprinted through the lounge and barrelled up the stairs to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him as he tripped his way to the sink just in time as a projectile stream of vomit spewed from his mouth, hitting the glistening white porcelain with an audible splatter.
Sam coughed and retched, his stomach violently heaving as his body dispelled the acrid contents of his stomach. He braced his hands on the bowl of the sink, the cool porcelain a stark contrast to his feverishly hot skin as he fought back the tirade of horrifying images flashing like stills on a slide projector in the forefront of his mind.
Click. Blood spurting in a macabre fountain from the curly haired vampires chest as he screamed and flailed...
Click. The dark-haired vampires skin weeping thick, yellow puss as Alan pinned him in place with the UV light while Sam drove a stake into his heart...
Click. The handle of Alan's dagger protruding from David's chest...
Click. Paul roaring in rage and agony as his sister's skin blistered, bubbled and burst...
Click. Flick's fiery amber eyes and sharp fangs...
Click. The sound of Edgar and Alan's screams...
Click. The moment Paul was about to launch himself in his direction, his blood stained fangs bared...
Click. Flick's eyes full of sorrow and guilt staring him in the face as she told him to run...
Sam's legs finally gave out on him and slumped to the floor in a heap, burying his head between his knees while his shoulder's shook from the weight of his grief. He grieved the loss of his sister. He grieved the loss of his friends and he grieved the loss of his innocence. But most of all, he grieved the loss of life as he knew it. There was no more pretending that monsters didn't exist. There was no more walking around believing that he'd never face death first-hand or taste the bitter kiss of loss.
He exhaled a shaky breath and stumbled to his feet, practically tearing off the clothes that bore the blood of his fallen comrades. He turned on the shower and stood beneath the waterfall of warm water wishing that it had the power to wash away the memories burned in his brain and not just the dirt, blood and grime that coated his arms and face like a second layer of skin.
As the water rhythmically drummed against his bare skin, washing away the tears that didn't seem to want to end, he tried to think of how he could convince his mom to leave Santa Carla, to convince her to walk away from the life she'd started to build while he still had all his limbs attached.