Blood Stream (A Short Story) (2 page)

BUT NO, IT
can’t
be true.  The only thing keeping me going is the thought that my family are still out there.  That they’re safe.

I shake my head, refusing to think about it anymore.  I’m surprised when I realise my eyelids are heavy, but this time I give in to the urge to close th
em.  When I open them again, soft light is streaming through the branches overhead.  A beam of light is glinting off Gemma’s almost white hair.  I smile.  We made it through the night, and I didn’t even have nightmares.

‘Gemma, wake up sweetie.’

She opens her eyes suddenly, and sits up, then looks at me with wide eyes.  She smiles.  ‘Hi.’

‘Hey, how are you feeling?’

‘Hungry,’ she says, but then looks uncertain, ‘what will we eat?’

I laugh.  Gemma is always hungry, she must be going through a growth spurt.
  I sit and rummage in my pillow/bag and pull out a cotton pouch containing dried apple.

‘How did you get this?’ she
asks, quickly popping some in her mouth.

‘I’m sneaky,’ I say, and grin.
  ‘But try not to eat too much, this will have to last us until we find a town.’

I have
a piece too and take my first proper look at our surroundings.  We are truly deep in the woods, I can see nothing but big trees, uneven ground and ferns.  Just beyond where we slept the terrain starts to slope downwards.  Birds are singling loudly above us.

‘How far is it?’

‘I have no idea, but we’ll be all right.  We just need to find a stream to fill this up,’ I say, pulling an old plastic bottle from the bag, ‘and we’ll be set.’

Gemma smiles.  ‘It’s nice being together, away from them.’

I hold her close.  ‘We’ll take care of each other, yeah?’

‘We will.’ 

She’s so precious, my sole reason for living.  I ruffle her hair and stand.

‘Come on, we have a town to find!’

The hours slip past, until I am exhausted and Gemma is practically walking with her eyes closed.

‘I hear water!’ Gemma says.  ‘This way.’

She scrambles over some rocks and I’m on her heels, climbing swiftly downhill.  I stumble, catching my leg on a sharp rock, and fall forwards.

‘Ahh bugger,’ I say, as Gemma hurries back to me.

‘Are you OK?’

‘I’m not sure.’ 

I tentatively prod my grazed palms, before turning my attention to my leg.  There is a small gash on my calf, and blood is trickling towards my boot.  I’m relieved it’s not bad enough to need stitches.

‘Does it hurt?’

I shake my head.  ‘Not really, my hands are worse.  I think I’m in need of that water you heard.’

‘It’s not much farther.’

I follow her at a slower pace, blood dripping onto the rocks as we reach a perfectly clear stream.  Gemma helps take the bag off my back and fills the bottle, then hands it my way.

‘You first,’ I insist.

She gulps it back and refills it, then I take my drink.  It is sooo good, instantly perking me up.  If only we could find some food too. 
When we get to a town
, I reassure myself. 
You will get your fill then
.

I wince as I try to undo my boot, the grazes on my palms not liking the motion.

‘Let me help you,’ Gemma says.  And then she gives me a cheeky grin.  ‘I said I’d take care of you, too!’

It’s so long since I’ve seen her smile like that, I let her go ahead.  Once she’s tack
led the laces, she tugs off my boot and sock, revealing red heels that look like they’re about to blister.

‘Ow,’ she says, in sympathy.

I roll my eyes.  ‘I’ll be all right.’

Slowly I lower my leg into the icy water, until my foot is resting on small pebbles beneath the surface, and then I wipe the blood away.  The red diffuses out into the water, swirling and then dispersing, until the water’s clear again.  At that point I pull my leg free and hold my sock over the wound.

I watch Gemma as she takes off her boots and socks and starts paddling.  ‘It’s refreshing,’ she says, and flicks some water my way.

‘Hey,’ I complain,
‘I’m enjoying being hot.’  I always felt cold in the camps, something about being confined seemed to have that effect on me, even in summer.

She comes and sits by my side.  ‘
Me too, but this is fun.  Being away from that place, I feel, I dunno, like I can be more myself.  It’s nice not to be watched.’

‘Yeah, I hated having guards there all the time.  I always wished I could just leave, even for five minutes.  Just go for a stroll, you know?’

‘Umm, it is nice here.’

‘It’s beautiful.’

We are both silent for a while.  Gemma points through the trees and we watch as a fox pokes is nose in a rabbit hole.  After a while he gives up and sneaks through the ferns, out of sight.

‘We better keep going, see if we can find a town before night time.’

‘How’s your cut?’

I release the pressure and take a look.  ‘It seems to have stopped bleeding.’

‘That’s good, I was worried for you.’

‘Don’t be,’ I say, giving her a stern look.

She giggles, helping me get my slightly bloody sock back on.  I’ve only got one spare pair, so I need to wear these until they are too stinky to get away with.

‘Let’s fill up the bottle again and be on our way,’ I say.

We walk for four hours straight.  After two hours we find a path—which makes our going much easier—and we stick with it until our first sign of a town, until I’m so knackered I can barely see straight.  I’m holding Gemma’s hand, guiding her, for she is walking with her eyes shut half the time.

‘Gemma, I can see houses up ahead.’

‘Wh—really?’ she says, and I watch as her eyes spring open and peer through the trees at a scattering of white-painted, slate roofed, detached houses.

‘Yep.  Looks like
the edge of a town to me.  What do ya think, check it out?’

She grins.  ‘Yes.’

HER EYES LIGHT
up with possibility, and although I’m exited myself, I sit on a log and pull her to my side.

‘Listen, you’ll stay close
, won’t you?’

She nods
.  ‘Are you worried about something?’

‘Well, it’s a long time s
ince we’ve seen other people—I just don’t know what to expect.  I’m sure everything will be fine, but you must let me know if you spot
anything
that could be dangerous, or if you see anyone else from our camp, especially if you see any vampires.’

She nods again, less enthusiastically this time.

‘Abbi?’

‘Yeah?’

‘When we find our parents, will you still remember me?’

I laugh.  ‘Are you serious?  You are like a sister to me.  Not only will I remember you, I will phone you and visit you
all the time
.  So much so you’ll be sick of me.’

‘Never!’
she says, throwing her arms around me.

I fold her up in my embrace and kiss the top of her head.  ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

‘Come on then, let’
s see if we can find a phone.’

She takes my hand
again and we continue to walk on, along beside a stream.  We cross a slightly dilapidated wooden bridge, and after that the path ends at a gate.  The other side is a gravel car park, beyond which are actual terraces of houses.  Civilisation.

As I unlatch the gate and we step though my heart starts to beat a frantic race in my chest.  Gemma tightens her grip on my hand.  Both our palms are sweaty.

The car park is empty.  Gemma points to a gap between the buildings, but when we go through it the street is empty of people.

‘It’s really quiet,’ Gemma whispers.  ‘
Where is everyone?’

‘I don’t know.’

She is right though, it’s too quiet.  I can’t even hear traffic or radios.

Ignoring the strange tingles on my spine I decide to investigate.  I knock on the nearest door.

‘Do you think they’ve gone shopping?’ Gemma asks.

‘Maybe, let’s knock on a few more, someone might let us use their phone.’

Ten doors later and I can’t help but pay attention to my unease, and I can’t help but remember what Mitchel said; how I was the only survivor from my town.   

I still haven’t heard anything other than our own voices, steps and knocks.
  Gemma runs off down the street, knocking on more doors.  I hurry after her, just in case.  When she stops and turns to face me she has tears in her eyes.

‘Don’t worry, we’ll find a phone soon.’

I twist the handle of the closest door.  It’s unlocked.  It creaks as it swings inwards, revealing a dark hallway with an afghan rug.

Gemma peers past me.  ‘Do you think we should go in?’

I look over my shoulder and listen carefully for any sound of life.  ‘I can’t hear anyone, I guess we should take a look?’ I say, half hoping Gemma will refuse.

‘OK.’

We step over the threshold, holding hands.

‘Hello?’ I call.  My voice echo’s back to us.

‘I think they’re out,’ Gemma says.

‘I think you’re right.
  Is it just me, or does it smell weird in here?’

‘It smells
mouldy.’

Soft footsteps come from the back of the house
, setting my heart racing, and a black cat comes into the hallway.

‘Aww,’ says Gemma.  ‘Kitty, kitty, here.’

The cat comes straight up to her and winds around her legs, meowing.  She scoops it up in her arms, and gives it a big hug.  Gemma starts cooing about feeding it.

‘Did you have pets before we met?’ I ask her.

She shrugs.  ‘I don’t remember.’

‘I think he likes you.’

‘Can I keep him?’

‘I don’t t
hink so, this cat looks healthy; his owners might be nearby.  Let’s have a quick look about.’

We walk into the kitchen, screwing up our noses.

‘I don’t think anyone lives here,’ says Gemma, pulling her top over her nose.

The kitchen has not been cleaned in
a while
.  Whoever was last here didn’t wash up and mould is growing freely on the dirty dishes.

‘Ew.’

One thought is going over and over in my mind: 
Please let this be a one off . . . please let this be a one off . . .

‘Why do you think they left?’ Gemma asks.

‘I don’t know.  Let’s check out a few other houses, see if anyone is about.’

‘Can I bring kitty?’

‘Sure you can,’ I say, rubbing under his chin.  He’s purring loudly.  ‘He must be a good hunter to be so healthy, or maybe someone else is feeding him.’

Back out on the silent street we try a few more doors.  Most are locked, but those we find open are also deserted.
  All the phones are dead.  The water and electricity are off.  Strange.  Definitely
not
a one off.

We go back to the kitty’s house, under Gemma’s persuasion, so kitty will feel ‘at home’
, and raid the cupboards.  Gemma finds some cat food first, while I open a can of beans and a couple of tins of tuna and plate them up.  We sit on the sofa to eat, and when kitty has finished he curls up between us.  The living room is cosy and messy, and a tad dusty.  There are pictures on the walls of a young family.  I wonder what’s happened to them.

Mitchel said I was the only survivor from my town.  These people couldn’t possib
ly be all dead.  I shiver, and Gemma shoots me a worried glance.  If they
are
all dead, then, where are the bodies?  And what on earth could have caused it?  Are we in danger now?  And if we can’t find anyone, what will we do?

AS IF READING
my thoughts, Gemma says, ‘We could live here, just us, if, you know, if we can’t find our parents.’ 

Her round blue eyes look worried, but they don’t hold any tears.  Being further from camp, from the vampires, has increased her courage, and that’s something I don’t want to ruin.

‘That’s a good idea, but first I think we should walk into the centre of town, see if we can find a working phone there.’

Gemma and I walk close together, and I can’t help but look over my shoulder.  The cat follows us down the road, and it feels like he’s protecting us.  It’s a nice feeling
, I’d forgotten how good it feels to have a pet.

As we round a corner we see our first cars, squashed together, all dented metal and broken glass.  We hurry forward to peer through the windows, but hurriedly step back.  It reeks.  I catch a glimpse of a decaying body and pull Gemma back before she can see.

‘Let’s keep going,’ I say.  We see a couple more abandoned cars, their windows smashed, and as we get further into the centre, the greater the disarray.  Shop windows are smashed, products looted, phones dead.  Everywhere is empty.  The caw of a crow makes me jump, and a fox slinks into the open ahead of us.

We stand still, silent, at a loss.  I don’t know what to say to Gemma, who is hugging the cat tightly to her chest.  Suddenly the cat hisses, and I feel icy breath on the back of my neck.

‘Remember that I said I wouldn’t lie to you?’  A gentle caress, burning yet soft and sweet, like smoking treacle.

I turn, not breathing.
  Gemma freezes at my side.

‘Mitchel,’ I whisper
, feeling the blood drain from my face.  He is only inches away, his ember eyes fixed on mine.  ‘What’s going on?’

‘You tell me?’

‘I had to know for myself.  I had to know if you were telling the truth, if there was any hope.’

‘There is hope, but that only exists if you stay with me.  If you let me protect you.’

‘Protect us from what?’

‘Come with me.’

He turns his back and walks away, just like that.  We could run, I’m not sure if he would stop us, although I know that he
could
.  But I have to follow him.  I have to know what’s happened.

I put my arm around Gemma’s shoulders.  She is shaking, and holding on tightly to the cat.  I guide her after Mitchel.  He leads us into another house, busting the lock and forcing the door.  The three of us sit around a clear glass table.

Mitchel ignores Gemma, fixing me with the power of his gaze.  ‘You shouldn’t have run.’

I refuse to lower my eyes.  I won’t do that anymore, I will no longer be a pliant blood slave.  ‘Why not?  Where is everybody?’

‘Are you sure you want me to tell you?’

‘Yes.’  I am scared, but I have to know.

‘Everyone who was not killed in the initial slaughters has been rounded up and is now kept in warehouses, like cattle.’

‘Kept by who, and for what?  And what slaughters?’

‘When vampires came out of hiding and decided to take the world for their own, they killed randomly, and took the rest.  They keep people for their blood.’

‘And my parents?’

‘Like I told you before, they were killed.’

‘But why don’t I remember?’

‘I took your memories.’

‘Why?’  My eyes well up and overflow.  The belief he was lying has been all that sustained me.  They can’t be dead.  But, what we’ve seen here, and what Mitchel is saying, along with the fact no-one has tried to rescue us . . .

‘Because you were devastated.’

‘Did you do the same to Gemma, is that why she doesn’t remember?’

‘Yes.’

Gemma shuffles next to me, and I pull her tightly against my side.  ‘Are you going to take us back?’ she whispers.

Mitchel’s eyes rest on her for a second, before returning to mine.  ‘That is up to you.  But before you decide I must ask you this—have I ever taken too much blood from you?  Have I left you to starve, or allowed you to be taken by another vampire?

‘No.  I have protected you.  If you stay out here
, eventually you will be captured.  You will either be killed or put in a warehouse.  You will never see the stars again.’

‘
Why do you care?’

‘I respect humans, and I respect you.  I want you with me.
  I want to know you better.’

Could he mean
. . . ?  I’ve never thought that he might
like
me.  But what if he did?  If he’s really not trying to hurt me, if he’s never thought about killing me. . . .  It is true that he’s never taken too much blood.  I’ve never felt weakened after he’s fed off me.  We’ve always had enough food, and even though we work . . . it gives us something to do.  We are looking after the humans, the few humans left. 

‘H
ow did you find us?’

‘I could smell your blood.  I followed you from the stream, to make sure you weren’t in danger.  I thought I’d let you see the truth for yourself.’

‘What happened to the camp the night we left?  Is everyone all right?’

‘We lost three vampires, but all the human’s survived.  None of our attackers did.  If we hadn’t fought for you, you would have been taken to one of the warehouses.’

Could he be right?  And if he is, what does that mean for us?  Before he found us I did not feel safe.  I didn’t want to live here, not knowing what might be out there.  Not knowing where everyone went.  But what about Gemma?  I promised her I’d look after her.

‘We will come back with you on one condition,’ I state.

Mitchel’s eyes glisten.

‘Go on.’

‘That Gemma is protected.  That she is never fed upon unless she gives her consent.’

‘It’s a deal.’

I stare into his eyes, assessing him, and you know what?  I may be an idiot, but I think I believe him.  I think he really does want to keep us safe.  And if I can protect Gemma from being a blood slave, it’s something I can handle myself.  I can do it to keep us safe.  Gemma will be my reason for living.  My purpose.  She will be the meaning in my life, a life that
has
had meaning since she showed up.  I was just too blind to notice.  And Mitchel, what do I think of him?  Well, we’ll see.  I’m going to let myself find out what he’s really like.  I’m going to keep my eyes open and my head up.  I’m going to make the most out of the life we’ve been given.  I’m going to celebrate that we are still alive, and that we have each other.

We’re
going to go back.