Dark Series, The Color of Seven and The Color of Dusk (Books We Love Special Edition) (37 page)

Paul reac
hed
down
and grabbed
the
c
harred skin
, jerking and twisting. Bone snapped again as he hauled Cain free of the flames and loom
ed over him,
wicked incisors coming closer, closer.

“
No
!
No
!”

Cain
felt
the blood leaving his
vessels
, draining
from the valves of his heart, the pit of his stomach, the chambers of his lungs
, the
smallest capillaries of his body
. As it left, it burned,
burned with an intensity so hot it
was
ice cold
. Finally
, the clearing held only
dying
moans and the wet, sucking sounds of Paul’s mouth
.

Paul floated, then soared
with an exultation unlike any he
’d ever experienced. He felt the
power
of hot blood as it rushed throughout his body.
S
ated, he dropped Cain’s bulk
to the ground like
an apple core
a
nd laughed.
He laughed and la
ughed until
laughter turned to
sobs
. He
raised his hands and
wiped
the blood from his lips.

He looked down a
t his hands, at the
blood
stains
gleaming
black
under the moon, and
rushed t
o the banks of the river,
down to the water.
He leaned over
and
gaz
ed
into the slow-m
oving eddies of the river
.
Moonlight
glazed the water
, turning it to a shimmering
mirror.

He
stared at his reflection
and curled his lips, show
ed
his teeth.
His hand flashed down, breaking the surface of the water
. He cupped his hand and scooped
water to his
mouth, scrubbing viciously.

H
e was still perched on the river’s edge
when his clean-up crew arrived at the scene to pick up the trash,
engaged
in an endless, repetitive cycle. Hand
to river water, river water to mouth, scrubbing and scrubbing as though his lips would never be clean again.

The cycle broke when Tamara reached down and gently shook his shoulder.

“Son?”

He hadn
’t
heard their approach
and wondered how he’d missed it.
The world around him buzzed with noise.
He could hear the heartbeat of the
wood creatures crouched in the furthermost shadows.

“You al
l
right, son?”
Sadie
reach
ed
out a tentative hand.

Paul laughed
.
“I’m not ever
goin’ to
be a
l
l
right again.
Your trash is in the clearing, Tamara.”

“So I seen.
How’d it feel, boy?”

“
Oh, God,
it felt good!
So good
.
And
I’m
so
scared,
Tamara,
never been this scared in my life!
What if I can’t—but
I can’t, I know I can’t.
I can’t live without blood now.
Can I?”

Tamara pursed her lips and sent out a thin whistle.

“Boy, dere’s bloo
d, and den
dere’s blood.
Up to you to pick yo’ prey.
I do
an
got no doubts ‘bout yo’ choice.
Do you?”

Paul
didn’t answer
.
S
econds before, he
’d
b
een sated, full of Cain’s blood. He hadn’t thought h
e
’d
ever, ever, look at blood again.
And now, so soon,
his senses remembered the thrill, the exultation, the power.
He smell
ed
the blood
all
around him, the richness of it as it flowed through Joshua, through Sadie, through Tamara.

“I have to leave!
I have to hunt!”
He
backed away and
raised his arms.

“Paul!”
Sadie grabbed his hand.
“Son, you don’t know where you goin’!
What to do ‘fore day breaks—”

“Yes, I do.
I go back to the root cellar.
Don’t I?”

“Dat’s right, boy.
An’ you see
dat
you be
dere.”

“You ca
n’t just let him go, Tamara!
He
doan
understand!”

“He got to reach his own understandin’.
You hunt, boy.
An’ you come home.
We talk tomorrow night.
Ain’t nuttin’ so bad as you think.
Let go his hand, Sadie.”

Sadie stepped back
.
Paul raised his arms, waver
ed
in and out
a few times, and
disappeared.

“How could you do that?”
Sadie turned on her sister in a spasm of rage.
“How you jest let him go like
dat?”

“How you think I stop him
, woman
?
Now, he’s done his part.
Le
t’s us
do ours.
Josh, go back to
de
wagon and unhitch one of
de
horses
.
We gots to load
de
trash.”

“And what we do with him now we got him?”
I
t was the first time Joshua
ha
d
spoken since leaving Tamara’s house.

“I shows you, boy.
I shows you.”

Chapter
Thirty-Six

While the clean-up crew collected the trash and began the final weary trudge to Tamara’s
little cottage by the edge of Stone Creek Swamp
,
Paul roamed the woods surrounding the Ocmulgee River, ranging from side to side
. His
nose and ears, tuned to
animal
perception
,
followed the smell and nig
ht noises of the wood creatures. R
accoons and possums, rabbits
and
deer.
No quarry too small or too large.

He stalked and captured, bit and tore.
And drank.
And drank.
And drank.
At the conclusion of e
ach stalking hunt, he swore—no
more.
God, no more.
But
then his nose
caught
the rich smell of hot, pumping blood
in the distance
and he
cast out again and again.

Finall
y, some new instinct alterted him to check the horizon. D
arkness was lifting
. Day
was leaving night.
If he didn’t
seek the shelter of Tamara’s root cellar
, would
he simply c
e
ase to exist?
Or lie in agony as the sun seared into him until night fell again?

He didn
’t
know.
He knew
he never wanted to live through
another night, but he
didn’t know
what, if anything, would destroy him.
Better to seek shelter,
rise again as dusk descended,
consult
Tamara.
She
’d
help him.
She had to.
For the last
time that
endless night,
he cast himself into the wind.

* * *

Tamara led her weary troup
e
to their final destination.
The small cave loomed out of the face of
the low-rising hillock where Stone Creek Woods slid into Stone Creek Swamp.
Tamara
ha
d
first found it
by accident
several months before
on one of her forages for herbs and plants
, almost entirely closed by rocks
.
The rocks
had
loosened and
tumbled down
when she pulled at some vines
and
darkness
had
loom
ed
beyond.
The cave walls were
dark and dank, partly stone, mostly dirt.
For no reason, other than
she’d frequently found
that the most seemingly useless things
sometimes had
great uses, she
’d
returned later and
fully
uncovered the entrance, piling the rocks to one side for possible future use.

Th
e cave’s time
had come. F
orever and all time, Cain’s unhallowed crypt.

The
three of them
pulled and
grappled
and finally, Cain’s huge bulk lay inside the damp and dripping walls of the cave.
They backed out and collapsed in front of the entrance
while they watched the approach of dawn.

“Paul,” said Sadie.
“Tamara, whu
t if he don’t come back?”

“He’ll come,” she replied.
“Got no choice.
Won’t know whu
t else to do.
He’ll be lying in his bed, waitin’ on us, when we gets back.”

“Tamara, we gots to set him free.”

“Right now, we gots to finish what we’s started, sister.”

“How?” asked Joshua.
“You did all this—”

“Boy, I di
d
n’t do nuttin’.”

“No,” he agreed.
“I guess you didn’t.
But you saw Paul.
If
he’s
like that,
when Cain rises the
re’ll
be no stopping him.
T
hese rocks ain’t goin’ hold him back.
Paul just raises his arms and leaves.”

“
Dere’s ways, Josh.
Di
d
n’t I promise?
You and Paul.
Paul’s done his part.
Yo’ turn.”

“My turn?”

“No!”
exclaimed Sadie.
“I do it.
Or you do it.
Why Josh got to be involved anymo’?”

“’Cause he
needs
to, Sadie.
‘Cause it be his
right
, and I ain’t
goan
let you takes it away from him.”

“How?” the boy asked again.

“Only one sho’ way to stop one of
de
Blood
Drinker’s chilluns.
D
e
heart.
An’ de
head.
You take a nice, sturdy stake.
An’ you pounds it through
de
heart.
An’
den you cuts off
de
head and throws it in runnin’ water.”

“Then what are we waitin’ for?
Why’d we bring him all the way back here?”

“Not now, son.
Wouldn’t do no good right now.
He’s like Paul was.
Ain’t really dead, but he ain’t really alive, neither.
Gots to be after
de
change.
Nuttin’ hurt ‘em while
dey
changes, ‘cause
dey
jest keep healin’
dereselves.”

“Not even sunlight?
You said Paul had to be in the dark.”