Chapter 17

  Mom and I drove past the pizza place on the way home—it was packed—but she knew I didn't feel like celebrating.

  "How about a nice bowl of beef stew?" Mom said as she hung up her coat.

  "That sounds good."

  "Oh, I forgot, there were two scouts at tonight's game that were there to watch you. They gave me their cards—when you feel up to it, it might be nice to give them a call."

  "Will I ever be up to it?" I slumped down onto one of the kitchen chairs.

  "I hope canned is okay."

  "Sure, that's fine."

  Mom poured two cans of beef stew into a large serving bowl and popped it in the microwave. "You have to have faith that she'll be okay."

  "I pray, Mom, all the time. Coach even led us in a prayer before tonight's game—it just doesn't seem like enough."

  "I don't know what else we can do."

  "Can I confide in you, Mom?"

  "Always." She sat down in the chair next to me and patted my arm.

  "Not always. Last time you went to the police to ask about the witness protection program."

  "I was just trying to help."

  "No you weren't. Admit it, you were hoping you could get rid of Izzy."

  Mom's eyes filled with tears. "You're right." She wiped her eyes. "But things are different now, I've learned to accept her because she is who you want and I truly believe she wants you just as much."

  "Are you just saying that because you know that's what I want to hear?"

  "No. After getting to know her parents, their morals and how much they care for you I saw your relationship in a different light. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm still afraid of her, but it's just because I know one day you two will leave me behind. She's already taken my place in your heart, as she should I suppose."

  "You have to swear to me that you will never repeat a word of what I'm about to tell you."

  "I don't like to sw—"

  "Swear it, Mom."

  "Okay, I swear I will keep your secret."

  "No wiggle room, Mom."

  "I understand. Now, what's going on?"

  "The Faulkner's found Izzy."

  That's wonderful, they must be—" She stopped mid sentence realizing that there must be more that wasn't so good. "Is she home?"

  "No."

  "Is she alright?"

  "No."

  "Jason, you can't tell me something like that and not fill in any of the blanks. What's happened?"

  "Last night, after practice, I saw Melanie. She said they knew where she was."

  "A ransom note—that's why no police. Is she alright?"

  "Physically, I guess, but the guy has been torturing her."

  "Oh my Lord!" Mom gasped. "The poor girl."

  "You promised, Mom, not a word. The Faulkners know what they're doing."

  She looked into my eyes, hers red, flooding tears down her cheeks. "But you're going to help, despite the danger. You forget, I was there, I saw the monstrous, man that took her."

  "I know. The Faulkners might not even want me to help—they're protective like that—but I have to—I have to convince them to let me help. The connection Izzy and I have, it might be the only way to get her back. I have to try."

  "I know I gave my word, but what kind of mother would I be if I let you risk your life?"

  "The kind of mother who loves her kid above all else. The mother that I know and love."

  Just then, the bell on the microwave sounded.

  "Soups on." I said.

  We ate in relative silence with only an occasional observation about the game—more or less a distraction from what we were individually processing.

  "How is Wes' arm?" Mom asked.

  "Trainer and the paramedics were pretty sure it was broken."

  "Oh, that's a shame."

  We continued in silence until Mom pushed back from the table and took our bowls to the sink. When she finished washing them, she came back and sat down next to me. "I gave you my word, Jason, and I will stand by it, but what aren't you telling me?"

  "Mom, I—"

  "No games. When you said you were the only one who could 'get her back', I got the distinct impression you didn't mean from that man. So what did you mean?"

  "The Faulkners will figure out how to get her away from him, but she's going to need help—my help—only my help."

  "Why? Why only you?"

  This was going to take some thought. What could I say without telling her the ultimate secret—I could never do that.

  "If you can't even explain it, how can you be so sure?"

  "Okay, okay, I'll try to explain. Hayley, a close friend of the Faulkners—she's visiting from the West Coast—is the one who saw Izzy. She only got a glimpse, but—are you sure you want to hear this?"

  "Please, I'm sure it's no worse than what I'm imagining."

  "You shouldn't be so sure."

  "Please go on." she said as she gently grasped the back of my hand.

  "Well, like I said, Hayley only got a glimpse, but well, Izzy was covered in blood."

  Mom jumped up. "You said she wasn't hurt!"

  "Easy, Mom—take it easy." I waited until Mom sat back down before continuing. "Hayley said it was way to much blood to be Izzy's. The best she could tell, the guy had been dousing her with blood. Can you imagine what that would do to a person—to her?"

  "That's so sadistic—so cruel. She must be out of her mind."

  "Exactly."

  "That poor girl, that poor, poor girl." Mom went to the sink and blew her nose. When she came back, there was an intensity in her eyes. "You help her, Jason. Go to the Faulkners, do whatever you have to, just help her—bring her back."

  "Don't you think I want to—but it has to be done the right way or—"

  "I know, it could hurt her, irrevocably. I can finish up here, why don't you go see if you can talk to her parents?"

  "Thanks, but—"

  "Now, Jason. Don't let this go on any longer."

  I grabbed my coat and headed for the Rover. I hated myself for dumping all that on Mom, but a part of me felt like she needed to know—at least what I could tell her. Sure, it was selfish, but I felt better getting it off my chest. There was something about saying things out loud—it just helped.

  I knew the way to the Faulkners—heck I'd been there enough, especially while I was helping rebuild their house—but I unthinkingly drove past their driveway like I was on some kind of autopilot. When I got to the end of Park Hall Road, I hung a right onto Reno Monument Road, crossed the ridge at Lambs Knoll and descended down the Western face of the ridge and into Frederick County. By the time I reached Fox Gap Road, whatever was directing me was gone—vanished. I pulled off on the side of the road just past the intersection. "What was that? What just happened?"

  As I did a U-turn, the road signs seemed to jump out at me—Fox Gap—Reno Monument—then it hit me. Last year in History class, Izzy did a report on the Civil War battle at Lambs Knoll. At the time Mrs. Warner called it a creative blend of fact and fiction, but now I don't think there was much fiction in it at all. I pulled out on the narrow road, trying to recall details about Izzy's history report. As I climbed the Eastern face of Lambs Knoll, I could remember her referring to a road as Sunken Road, it was where the Confederates got pinned down and basically massacred. I passed the walls of a monument on the left and turned onto Lambs Knoll—basically a dead end road that hunters and the occasional sightseer used as a parking lot. At the far end, a narrow road followed along the ridge to the antenna towers a couple miles further along the ridge. I pulled in on the left, closest to the monument, behind a cluster of bushes to conceal the Rover. It was late—probably past midnight by now and any cop that cruised by would suspect a poacher or a little back seat action. I grabbed my flashlight, but since the stars were so bright decided not to use it.

  I paused at the corner of the wall that surrounded the monument. The entrance faced the road and if a car went by, I would no doubt be vis
ible. Sure enough, as I started forward, a wash of light lit up the trees across the road. As soon as the car passed, I made a dash for the entrance, I didn't see the three steps and took a head first dive into the enclosed monument area. I quickly rolled off to my right to get away from the open entranceway. I got up to a squatting position and leaned back against the cold, interior, stone wall.

  In the center of the area was a monolith type monument. At the bottom I could plainly make out the word 'RENO'. Further up the monolith it looked like '9th ARMY CORPS' was engraved in the stone. So, if I remembered right, this must be a Yankee monument and we'd always assumed the historian was a Yankee. I got to my feet, but stayed hunched over so I wouldn't be visible above the wall. As I got closer to the monument, I decided to risk my flashlight. The front and both sides were surrounded by weeds and grass—basically undisturbed, but as I move around to the rear of the monument, the grass had been worn down to dirt. There were two distinct sets of footprints, one huge and the other smaller. "Izzy and the guy from the bar?" I whispered. No, couldn't be. Although one set was huge—likely the guy from Homecoming—the other smaller one had the same wide, shape, like a smaller version of the same set of prints. I stooped down for a closer look.

  'What if,' I thought, 'What if both sets of footprints belonged to the same guy?' Maybe what we had here was a vampire version of the Incredible Hulk. It made sense, the historian didn't seem to want to make more vampires, and we'd destroyed his army so maybe—as crazy as it sounded, it just might be possible, and if it was, he wasn't always a giant.

  I stood to relieve my back as another car crested the hill. The light from it's headlights washed over the monument as I ducked, but not before I noticed a flash from something metallic in a joint in the monument. When the car was out of sight, I stood and pressed my fingers into the crack. I could feel a metal object, but I couldn't budge it. Anxious to see what it was—and not thinking it through—I jumped the wall and raced back to the Rover for a screwdriver.

  I was smart enough to remember to not use the remote—flashing parking lights would not be good—and instead unlocked the door with the key. Still, when the door opened, the dome light shown like a beacon screaming, 'Look this way!' I grabbed the screwdriver out of the glove box quickly and then eased the car door closed as quietly as I could. It was then, I thought I noticed motion in the reflection of the window. I turned, holding the screwdriver up defensively. If it had been the historian, I wouldn't have had that chance, so I called out softly, into the darkness. "Hello, is someone there?"

  I gasped—so much for brave—as I detected motion on either side of where I was standing. "I'm armed." I warned.

  "With a screwdriver?"

  I looked to my left where the sound originated. "Tink—that you?" I looked to the right, "Hayley?"

  "What are you doing out here?" Tink said.

  "Trying to help."

  "We'll get her back." Tink said.

  I glanced at Hayley, she didn't look so sure. "You know the guy was here—at the monument?"

  "No, how do you—"

  "Footprints." Come on, I'll show you. Tink hopped the back wall more or less dragging me over with him. Hayley merely leapt over in stride. I flicked on my flashlight and pointed it toward the footprints in the dirt behind the monument.

  "Looks like our guy alright," Tink said. "and he's not alone."

  "But what if he is?"

  "Is what?" Hayley puzzled.

  "Alone—I know, two sets of prints, both different sizes, but what if—"

  "You think he changes?" Hayley said.

  "Yeah, it's a possibility, right? I mean we know he doesn't seem to want to create anymore of your kind."

  "So you think he's figured out some way to increase his strength?" Tink surmised.

  "But it's temporary?" Hayley added.

  "Possibility, right? And there's more." I stuck my screwdriver into the joint and probed around until I hit the metal object. "Hear that? There's something in here."

  "Let me." Tink took the screwdriver and drug it though the crack. As it passed the metal object, there was a clank and then a grinding noise started behind us. We all turned to see a section of the back wall begin to fold away to the side exposing a staircase that led down into the earth. Tink quickly swiped the screwdriver across the metal lever in the opposite direction and the wall returned to it's original, natural, position.

  "A secret lab?" I said. I knew from their surprised expressions this was not where Hayley had seen Izzy. "If he changes, then there is a time when he's just a normal vampire—we can take him then."

  Tink and Hayley looked at each other, amused. "Sure, just a normal vampire." Tink said."

  "We have to find Benjaim and tell him."

  "We can tell him." Tink said.

  "Don't make me beg, man, I have to help, besides, I have something you don't."

  "And what would that be?"

  "Blood." Hayley said, sniffing toward me. She glanced up toward the eastern sky. "We don't have a lot of time, you'll have to carry him."

  "Not the first time I've had to hitch a ride"—better Tink than Izzy though—talk about a bruised ego. Before I knew what was happening, Tink scooped me up and slung me over his back. We were racing though the forest, along Lambs Knoll in a north-westerly direction. It explained how they'd stumbled across me at the monument. After awhile, we started zigzagging across the ridge.

  "You're not going to disorient me." I said to Tink.

  He grinned, a kind of 'I could if I wanted to' grin. "Just covering our tracks."

  "Then we're close?"

  "Ah, we have company." Elizabeth said as we glided to a stop.

  I slid down off of Tink's back. "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault." I said.

  "Nonsense." Benjamin said as he appeared next to Elizabeth.

  "Yes it is." I insisted. "I exposed her—put her out in the open—made her vulnerable."

  "I disagree." Tink said. "Our adversary merely took advantage of an opportunity."

  "No," Benjamin said stroking his chin, "there was no opportunity—not in a crowed building. No, his was an act of desperation."

  We all nodded in agreement.

  "Maybe changing back and forth weakens him," I said, "both physically and mentally."

  "Changing back and forth?" Elizabeth questioned.

  "There is evidence back at the monument near Sunken Road to support his theory." Tink said.

  "The Reno monument?" Benjamin asked.

  "Yes, and also a hidden room of some kind. We left it undisturbed."

  "So close." Benjamin continued to stroke his chin, deep in thought.

  "Since we destroyed his army," I said, "I think he's been experimenting on himself, trying to make a super vampire, capable of destroying all of you."

  "Logical, he is usually very rational in his actions, solely focused on his objective." Benjamin grimaced. "Except of course Izzy's abduction."

  "What? What is it?"

  He grimaced again and this time I noticed Elizabeth do the same.

  "It's Izzy? Is she close?" I scanned the surroundings and in the faint pre dawn light realized where we were. "He has her at the quarry?"

  No one answered.

  "Fine, I'll look for myself." I squeezed past Tink and headed in the direction that I thought led toward the quarry.

  "Wait." Elizabeth said.

  I turned back. She was shaking her head.

  "Your scent would only add to her agony."

  "And alert the enemy to our presence." Hayley added.

  I slumped forward, catching myself on the trunk of a half, fallen tree. "I know my scent will intensify her thirst, but I also know she can see beyond that primal craving and recognize that I'm here—here for her and that everything is going to be alright—we are going to be alright."

  Elizabeth looked up at Benjamin as his arm tightened around her. "Very well, but you must prepare yourself—you've never seen her like this—we've never seen her quite so distraug
ht." Elizabeth reached out and gently brushed my arm. "Be strong for her."

  "I will—whatever she needs."

  Tink swept me up onto his back again. "Same as last time?" He said to the others.

  "Yes, we'll approach from all across the rim, giving him no specific target." Benjamin said.

  Without further discussion, we raced off into the woods on various tangents. It wasn't long before Tink slowed. He eased forward maybe another fifty feet more before I slid off his hunched over back to the ground. He held his finger across his lips. I could barely make out his whisper, "Not a sound." He pointed slightly to our right.

  I nodded and then slowly, as quietly as I could manage, crawled forward. Even though I was pushing the leaves aside, every once in awhile a twig would snap. I cringed each time. For a human, I was quite stealthy, controlled, but I knew it wouldn't last, not when I saw her.

  Cathy's image had given me an idea of what to expect, but when I reached the rim—maybe because it was real, right in front of me—the scene was so much worse than I anticipated. Across the dark abyss, halfway up the stone face, there was a shallow cave cut into the granite. It was only about five feet deep, but branched off deeper to the left. An odd, faint, greenish-yellow glow pulsed from the depths. The entrance was partially blocked by a stone slab that obscured most of the main entrance to the cave. On the left side of the slab, there appeared to be a silhouette of a small loop near the top and bottom side. I rubbed my eyes and blinked several times and then stared deeper into the dark shadows.

  "Ahhh!" I gasped when I saw Izzy. It felt like someone had pierced my heart with a dagger. My emotions were a blur of guilt, sadness and anger all erupting at once. I feared I might lose it at any second.

  Izzy was chained down on the face of the stone slab, facing out into the quarry. Her wrists and ankles were shackled and the massive chains were also wrapped around her arms, legs and torso. Her body was covered in the torn, remnants of her ball gown from the dance. The lower portion was stained and shredded up to her thighs. She had fought hard. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, my heart sank—the stains were blood like in Cathy's vision. Slumped forward over her stained chest was a rats nest of blood caked, matted hair that obscured her face.

  The sky began to brighten, in the pre dawn hour, confirming my conclusion the stains were blood. Izzy's head moved slightly, and she began to slowly look up. Her eyes opened and my hands clenched the dirt beneath them—Izzy's eyes were crimson—he'd changed her.

  The sickness, that churned in my stomach at what I was seeing, suddenly boiled over in anger. I pressed up on all fours.

  Izzy's gaze instantly found me. Her chest heaved upward against the chains as she drew in a deep breath. She let out a shrill, shriek that echoed through the quarry, and she began to yank violently against the chains, screaming hysterically. I cowered back from the edge, out of view.

  "It's okay." Tink said.

  It was anything but okay. I was a cowardly, weak, spineless human that let this happen. I used a small tree to pull myself up to my feet.

  "Jason." Tink warned.

  I looked down at him, mustering all my courage. I'm not sure what he registered in my expression, but he let me take a step toward the rim of the quarry.

  "Ha, ha, ha, ha," a cackle came from behind Izzy. "Come and get her, fools!"

  When I looked back, Tink shook his head, but again he let me step out into plain view.

  The man from the bar, the one the Faulkner's called the historian stepped out from behind Izzy. He spotted me immediately. "Human, I can kill you where you stand! You think you can change her from what she is? Look at her." He held out a ladle and then doused Izzy's face with blood. She went wild, yanking, kicking and screaming.

  "You're dead!" I yelled. "You're a dead man!" At the sound of my voice, Izzy's body went limp.

  Tink suddenly yanked me to the ground, nearly dislocating my hip, but just an instant before a rock the size of my head splintered the tree behind where I'd been standing. "We need to withdraw." Tink started to back away, dragging me with him.

  "I'll be back for you Izzy!" I yelled. "I'll be back!"