Hannah's Point of View
His hand caresses my back, rousing me from a fitful sleep. His face nuzzling my neck, the slight stubble making my skin tingle; I feel his body close to mine… running my hand up the bed I search for him, search for the one person who knows the side of me I never share. I look up, through my eyelashes expecting to see the awkward warm smile of the only man who I've ever loved. He isn't there. Well he's there but he's morphed into something I know only too well…
I scream myself awake.
'Oh god… oh God…' I murmur, a mantra I breathlessly pant to myself as my body shakes uncontrollably, and my clothes stick to the sheen of sweat coating my body- I've never had that dream before. Richard. Poor Richard. Died, only seconds after I finally realised I loved him; the only man who fought Man, Vampire, weird water Draug to be by my side and I failed in loving him- waiting until it was too late and his life blood coated my hands as I fruitlessly tried to pump it back in to finally admit I felt the pull of love.
I look over at the clock. 04:45. Better be up anyways, who said the vampires had changed only they would think it appropriate to make a 5am meeting. I'm fretful since my dream, my muscles clenched together from my panic filled wake-up call.
Pull yourself together Hannah. My mental monologue doesn't help, so even though I have less than ten minutes I grab a towel, and drag my sweat soaked ass to shower, hoping the mixture of warm water and steam will clear my head… nothing worse than a preoccupied chief- especially in an epidemic.
Michael's Point of View
I act cool. Act as if I know it's all going to be okay, but I don't. The vampires are mingling in the corridors of the Founders' building, talking in buzzing sounds, their words to slight and silent for mere human ears. This the first time since my conversion, that I wish I was still team Vamp. Wish I knew something, anything that could make this strange paranormal horror make a little more sense. It came from nowhere, one-day blizzard the next something found normally on old re-runs of Scooby Doo. It's started with one… then two and suddenly it escalated to ten and before we retreated to the safe house it had rocketed to fifty! Fifty people missing; and for all I know dead.
The vampires are scared, I can tell from the jerky movements, and the constant checking over their shoulders- since the Draug they thought they were safe from all types of supernatural crazy but now there is something else and no-on is quite sure what it actually is…that's the scariest part. Our supernatural crazy doesn't know what's making our town a ghost town; a snowy ghost town at that.
I have Eve's hand in mine, her grip slightly damp with sweat; without the usual make-up she looks young, there's not even a single skull in sight- just the plain white-gold band glinting on her finger, matching my own. We've come a long way, and I'd finally let myself come to terms with the fact I'm human again and just about as safe as I could be, then this happened. They say you take things for granted but I thought that after everything we'd gone through that couldn't be us; but it was- it was stupid things like: coming home after a days' work -hell even being able to go to work-, ordering take-out when we just couldn't be bothered to cook and even silly little things like lying in bed at night knowing no-one is after you- of all of them I think that's the one we took most for granted- now sleep is a luxury we can rarely afford.
The room Amelie has chosen for the meeting is large enough to hold the whole population of Morganville about three times over, whispers echo in the cavernous space. We stand together, Shane's broad shoulders hiding Claire's petite frame as he stands with his arms locked around her waist, whispering quietly in her ear. Me and Eve don't speak, the only conscious change is that the grip of my hand in hers tightens so it's only just not painful.
We stand for minutes… waiting as people enter in small groups. Couples clasping each-others hands: children of all ages wrapped in parent's arms, still half asleep: then there are the vampires glowing in the lamp lit room, for once positioning themselves in human groups- talking in soothing tones to those looking most fearful.
That's the change, for once the vamps are just as scared.
It's looking round as the doors finally swing fully shut that I see the total devastation that first the Draug and then the Daylighters brought to our small town; the population is literally halved. A couple of years back there would been more families, more faces… now there is just more headstones in the graveyard- just as many vamps as there is humans.
The room turning silent is the only alert I get to Amelie's entrance, the usually immaculate founder is wearing a pair of skinny black jeans and a tight figure hugging sweat top; something not very different from what the girls' are wearing except on Amelie it looks like armour. Her long hair hangs down her back in effortless waves, as she glides through the small crowd smiling comfortingly at odd grouping; finally coming to stand surprisingly close to our little huddle.
Her ice-white smile, holds an odd edge- it doesn't meet in her eyes it's more like a twitching muscle, something she has more than likely practised in a mirror than learnt as a small child- I feel a small shiver echo down my spine.
Many glowing faces turn in our direction staring at the founder in a way I can only describe as desperate, they are not that different to us, they may live longer and be a million times stronger but when the unknown attacks they rally around a leader desperate to be told what to do.
I hear Amelie take a deep breath, one I know she doesn't need.
'Oh Shit.' I breathe. Shane meets my gaze and nods, his lips pressed tightly together. I watch as his arms tighten around Claire and their hands join together, both their wedding band glinting in the dimmed light- and that when I wrap my arm around Eve- and finally acknowledge that this may actually be the time we don't all make it out alive- and our luck may finally have run out.
