Chapter 06: Family
"Tell me this is not the end
You, my love, my oldest friend
You put your faith in dreams that kill
Lying with beauty, breath so still
She couldn't be trusted, yeah…"
- from "Julia" by Fefe Dobson
Walking through streets that had no been shoveled, flecks of snow stinging her face and her hands, Sam found her way back home. She found her way back to the house she'd shared with Terry and Greg, and, at times, Emily.
Inside was almost as cold as out but she didn't care. She found her way straight to the cup board in which they'd kept their alcohol in. Even though it'd only been in their, it was chilled from the winter air. She got out a bottle of vodka, and twelve-pack of diet Pepsi, and a glass, and brought them back to the living room with her.
She popped her favorite CD into the player next to the TV and heard it for the first time in months, almost laughing at how good the first note going through her felt. She poured herself a mixed glass of vodka and Pepsi, and then another, and then another, and another, and another, until she passed out on the couch where she'd been.
Hours passed and day turned to night, and as the eyes of the undead woke with the dusk so did she.
"Sam..." a voice called her name, startling her out of sleep. "... Sam..." she jerked to sit up, looking around herself frantically. She was at home, the bottle of vodka and empty cans of diet Pepsi still in front of her. "... Sam..." That voice, so familiar...
It can't be, she thought; I watched you die...
But low and behold, the figure entered the doorway. Her golden blonde hair, mused and shinning with an unnatural glow, was in a pony-tail much like Sam's. Her gray eyes had become nearly translucent, and seemed almost to glow in the dark. Her skin was as white as ivory, and the baby fat in her cheeks now seemed only to accent her high cheek bones. She was dressed in a clean black T-shirt and crisp blue jeans.
Sam jumped to her feet and took a step back. Without realizing it, she whispered in disbelief; "Emily?"
Emily smiled and nodded, locking eyes with her cousin. "That's right... glad to see you still remember me, after bailing out on me at the tracks."
Sam shook her head, tears coming back to her eyes. The image of her cousin was blurry, as she was still quite drunk. "I'm so sorry, Em, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to, I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
Emily smiled sadly. "It's alright, Sammy; just invite me in and we'll talk about it, okay?"
Sam rubbed her eyes, trying to make the image go clearer. It helped a little. She backed up, still sensible to remember that this town was filthy with vampires. "No... no, I can't! Mark said--"
"--Oh, god, Mark!" Emily interrupted, throwing her hands up in the air. "You're always talking about Mark! Is he here with you now? I hope not..."
"No," Sam shook her head. "He's not here in the house, I mean... he's here in Gatlin with me, though. We came back... we came back to help you, Em!"
"To hell you did!" Emily cried. "You guys don't know what you're missing! But, serious now... just let me in, okay? You know I love you. I won't touch you unless you want me to, I promise... just invite me in, Sam."
Sam hesitated, her eyes going blurry again. She blinked it away, and finally agreed feverishly. "Okay... okay, you can come in."
Emily smiled, before her faced contorted and she bared her fangs. Her hiss rang out like thunder through the room, and she lunged at Sam, grabbing the shorter girl by the arms. "You never learned better then to trust me, not even in life."
Sam's head lopped back, drunkenly, and Emily prepared to go for the kill, biting into her jugular and turning her into one of them... until she felt an enormous pain in her chest, which stopped her from touching her cousin. She looked down to see the tip of a stake sticking out of her chest.
Emily screamed, the sound of many voices all in her own; the voice before her of the fallen. She flew up to the ceiling, dropping Sam to the floor, and exploded into a firework display of ashes upon contact.
Mark stood behind where she had been, his hands still posed as if they were holding the stake he had shoved through her body. It fell to the floor with a clankering sound. He ignored it and dropped to his knees beside Sam, shaking her by the shoulders.
Her eyes blinked open, and rested upon his. She groaned, her throat very dry; "You saved me, didn't you?" Mark smiled a little, nodding. Sam, on the other-hand, rolled her eyes. "Great; now I have to thank you, don't I..."
Mark sat for a moment, processing this. Sam Hennessy... saying 'thank you'. Well, that would be one for the books; but for now, he helped her to her feet. "Listen, we gotta hurry and get back before more of those things come out of their holes..."
Sam rubbed her eyes again to reduce blurriness, but her high had mostly worn off now. She pulled her hair behind her ears as she asked, "Can I just... change my shirt real quick? I mean, as long as it's not stained with blood, I'm cool with it, so..."
"Go," Mark waved her off, knowing that Sam wasn't like most girls. She'd never taken longer then ten minutes to get ready for anything in her life. She turned and ran up the stairs, and he shouted after her; "But be quick about it!"
Mark bounced nervously in place, waiting for Sam to return. His eyes scanned the cozy living room slowly, and landed on the stake. He looked around him, as if to make sure no one was watching, and then went over and grabbed it, quickly.
When they walked through the door, Rider was waiting for them. As they turned the corner into the living room, Rider jumped out and grabbed Sam by the neck, slamming her into the wall.
"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Rider shouted, ignoring Mark, who was crying; "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!", in the background.
She didn't answer, looking back at him with empty eyes; her face was expressionless, melancholy, as if she'd heard it all before. She remained ordinarily still beneath his grasp, her breathing regular.
"You could have gotten yourself and him--" he gestured to Mark. "--killed!"
"Let her go, Rider!"
"You're drunk, aren't you? I can smell the alcohol on your, you little bitch!" Mark tried to pry Rider's arm off of Sam, but Rider just used his other arm to push him away, sending him tumbling back. "You endangered human lives for a god damn drink!"
He haled back and punched Sam's cheek, letting her go and drop down on the edge of the couch, sliding down the wall with her back to it, she remained apathetic. Rider crouched before her, sneering. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"
"Yeah," she finally spoke, and like a bolt of lightning her fist shot foreword and contacted with his lip, the pressure causing it to burst and squirt blood. His head turned to the side, and she spoke again. "You left yourself open... don't let me catch you like that when it's game time."
Rider was too stunned to move or speak. Sam stood up and walked away, turning back in the hall and up the old stairs to her room. Mark smirked proudly and patted Rider on the back. "I warned you, pal," he said, turning the corner and following his friend up the stairs and to his room, as well.
Late afternoon of the next day, and Mark and Sam would find themselves sitting on the floor in the living play War (the card game); Sam in the new shirt she'd taken from her house; an aquatic green fitted tee with dull blue layered-effect sleeves. They'd been at it for a good hour now, when Rider came bursting through the back door as usual.
"I found one!" he declared as he entered the living room, and Davis stood up from the couch where he'd been watching the kids play. "I found one of the final two hide-outs!"
"Wait," Sam interrupted. "You're sure it's two now?"
"Positive," Rider told her. "And this one is the largest... the other is King's private hide-out, which the bastard always seems to move as soon as we come close to it!"
"So, uh… when do we strike?" Mark asked absently, eyeing the clock.
"As soon as I can get the things together..."
It seemed that, for Rider, it took an hour, tops, to find enough stakes, and a cross and bottle of holy water for each of them. The crosses were rosaries he'd taken from the church after the priests had skipped town, which were convenient to hang around one's neck. They were all beaded with tiny precious stones; Sam's of rubies, Mark's of sapphires, Davis's of emeralds, and Rider's of pearls. At only four O'clock, with two hours to spare before evening would begin to drop, they set out...
The ride over there was about a half an hour, give or take a few; as it was on the opposite end of town. At length, they pulled over in front of a large cobble stone buildings. A white board sign of the front of it read, "MAPLE LAUNDRY MAT", in fancy red letters. The sign in the door announced that the mat was closed, as it probably had been since the vampires got old Vivian and William Maple.
Vivian was so nice, Sam thought sadly, remembering that Terry used to do their laundry there, and sometimes she'd take Sam with her; and sometimes, Greg, too... and Sam would have to sit and watch him kiss all over her mother, her stomach boiling with repressed hatred for this man that was supposed to replace her father.
She shook the thoughts away and followed the others outside the car and around side the building. The ground was smushy beneath there feet, as a light rain earlier that afternoon had turned some snow to sludge. On the side of the building, they found a basement window that had been kicked out. Rider dropped down inside, and helped the younger two down first so they didn't slip of get hurt from the fall. Davis followed last.
They went to work, slowly scanning the basement area, then searching for vampires and their hiding places. They hit the ones that were just lying among the ground first, which was quite a slew of them, and took quite some time staking them one by one. As they had almost cleared the floor and begun the search within possible hiding place, a familiar sound startled them.
A hiss from the inside of a closet door, and then two more from under a table in a corner. Mark's eyes shot to the window through which they'd crawled in. Shit! The light was fading fast. The closet door began to open, a set of moist hands beginning to reach outside. Davis slammed the door shut, causing the creature to cry out... too bad that just aroused more of the.
"Head for the window!" Davis cried, and the others did as he said.
Rider hoisted the kids up one by one so that they could get out more easily, snaking along the iced ground just outside and into the gravel drive. When they were both standing outside, breathing heavy in the icy air where the frozen rain had begun to fall again, Rider turned and cried to Davis, "Come on!"
The vampires were inching their way closer to Davis, licking their chops. "You first!"
Rider shook his head at his reckless, and stubborn, brother, but did as he was told, understanding that Davis had to play the hero and would stop until he had. When Rider was outside once more, he knelt before it and called to his brother again.
Davis, shakily, yet the door go and ran over to the window... but as her snuck his hands outside of it, the vampire that had been in the closet flew to him, faster then the human eyes could see. Davis cried out as the thing stuck it's fangs into his neck.
"NO!" Rider cried, slamming on the window sill. "DavisDAVIS"
But Davis was waning, his eyes rolling back in his head. In a shrill hoarse whisper, he spoke his last request; "Burn it... to... the ground..."
The vampire pulled Davis done underneath the window then, and the others crowded around. The sounds of tarring and slurping were evident, even to where the kids stood.
Rider stood up, tears in his eyes and his jaw clenched; he walked back to the explorer and crawled into the back, pulling out a red can of gas labeled "emergency". He came back, screwed the cap off, and pour it into the basement window. It poured all over the vampires and their meal, but they didn't seem to notice. He screwed the cap back on, and threw it away harshly.
Behind him the kids, huddled together against the cold with their hoods pulled up over their heads, shuddered at the sudden violence in him, but they dared not more or do or say a thing. Let him tred his path, and his anger would not be taken out on them... they hoped.
He went back to the truck again, and grabbed a pack of matches off the dashboard. Curving around them, he lit one, but the wind blew it out. He cursed and lit another, and it stayed lit, until he brought it to the window.
He punched the stone so hard it drew blood on his knuckles, but didn't even seem to notice. If he felt any psychical pain, he didn't show it. He tried again to light a match, this time inside the building, and it worked. He dropped it atop the vampires, and they exploded in a burst of flames.
The screams were terrible; so many and so loud and so shrill that Sam and Mark had to slam their hands over their ears, and even that didn't block it out. They retched in pain, but still stayed huddled together. Rider came towards them and, even though their eyes were shut, pushed them back towards and into the back seat of the explorer.
He slammed their door, jumped in the front seat, and drove away; speeding as always.
Back at the Victorian house, Rider slammed his fists into the wall and laid his forehead against it, beginning to cry. Sam and Mark stood very still and silent, emotions mixed but understand altogether. They knew only to let him mourn...
"Why?" Rider sobbed. "Why Davis? My younger brother; my only brother! Why couldn't it have been me? I was supposed to protect him! He wore the emeralds; I gave him the stone of life! And he died... he died here tonight, before my watching eyes!"
Rider turned then and left them, slumping up the steps, his tears the only thing that followed him. He went into his room, slamming the door behind him, and threw himself on the bed. His sobs could be heard all through the night...
I added lyrics to the chapters, if anyone cares... it's a habit. You can go back and read 'em or just keep going foreward; doesn't matter.
Ryou - Well, I suppose this chapter in itself answers your first question. Yes, the Stephen King name mix up was on purpose... what? I wasn't feeling very creative that night! As for the "father" question, nope... that would be simply too easy! Not to mention kind of a long-shot... and here I am writing about vampires and talking about long-shots 0.0 I've lost it... but anywho! Thank you again for reviewing! Much, much, much love...
Next chapter; a revelation to make or break their mission...