Light of the Moon (10 page)

I tried to remember.

My head jolted up, bringing my body forward so that I was sitting on the damp bed, hair pushed forward, and mouth dropped open so that breathy shots of hot air escaped. Sitting up so fast, blackness threatened to take over my world and tinges of blue colored the gritty edges of my vision.

I wondered about the downcast light, feared that because I was beginning to see it more and more, there was something wrong.

A candle on my bedside table flared, saturating the entire room in a yellow glow, shining brightly even as the sun beat it senseless; I caught the flare from the corner of my eye. I didn’t remember lighting it.

I blew against the flame until it left the wick and ran, fading to smoke.

My heart was beating so fast I didn’t care about anything but my dream. My dirty hair was chunked into thick, wet pieces and I could feel my eyes bulge out from my pale face, searching the room for a shadow of the man I had seen in my dreams.

Black, everywhere.

Sounds of breath, of fear.

I was in a place full of smoke, gray and bleak, the air heavy around me. It was cold, too cold to be a dream, but it was. It could have been nothing else.

I was shivering, rubbing my hands on my crossed arms to warm myself. My eyes darted around the place searching for a sign of something familiar, anything at all, but nothing formed out of the vapor.

“Hello?” I yelled. My voice wavered slightly and seemed to only carry a few feet as if it had been sucked up by the gray.

At the sound of my voice the smoke shifted, its hazy tendrils reaching toward me like fingers, curling in anticipation.

I tried to run but my feet were stuck to the ground with such conviction that I could not make them budge.

The fingers came closer, moving toward me like the hair of ghosts.

My mouth opened to scream for help, for anyone that might hear me. My voice shivered again, mimicking my shaking body, and just as my cry for help escalated to a level beyond wavering, one twist of gray reached completely forward and placed itself against my lips, blocking any sound from escaping. Instead, the sound exploded in my ears, ringing as though the dead were living in my mind.

I was frozen, unable to move, to speak. Only my eyes darted back and forth, seeing gray murkiness and ghostly lines.

“Sssoo...” an obscure voice echoed. The sound was like glass breaking, like a thousand nails being dragged down a dusted chalkboard.

The voice poked a nerve deep inside me, telling me to run, forcing me to think of only death. It was horror beyond horror. I could smell the demise in the air, feel the hot pulse of annihilation on my lips and hear the shattered sound of death in the voice.

“You...” the voice echoed again, resounding. “You have found a way to fight me. You... You think you can defeat me? You... You’re hidden from me... You have no idea...”

My finger twitched as I tried to run away.

It was no use.

“You see, Dreamer?” the voice said, the darkness echoing like laughter. “You are no match for me. You think you are an equal to me? You... You are nothing. You... are nothing... to anyone. They can only keep you safe for so long.”

And with that a solid shape rose from somewhere deep within the smokiness. Loud, cackling laughter crackled in the death-filled air, making my head spin. The gray swirled around the mass like a tornado, rotating up in a spiral. And as the haze cleared, the dark laughter grew louder and more sinister. The laugh had two tones intermixing: Deep base, high shriek.

“You will be nothing, Dreamer,” the man said, if it could be called such a thing. The form that had emerged from the haze looked like death, happy death. His pale face was tilted back in hysterical laughter, his yellowed teeth showing sharp as fangs, and his arms tilted up to an unshowing sky.

He leaned forward, smiling, and leveled his eyes on me. They were the color of blood. They glowed red with fire, crimson flames flickering within them.

“Dad?” I asked.

Laughter like nails grinding slowly down a chalkboard screamed  back. “I am not the man you think I am.”

“Who are you?”

“Fool! I am one of three and none of the sssame. It isss time,” he said, the blood in his eyes matching his voice.

Slowly, he extended one hand and pointed a gray finger at my face. It reached farther and farther until it was right between my eyes, nearly touching my skin.

A wicked grin lit up the man’s face and a burst of fire exploded in his eyes.

The finger reached out the few more inches it needed to touch me and I felt the hot, blinding contact of the thing as it licked my bare skin.

“No!” the man shouted, the fire in his eyes blazing like an erupting volcano.

Light exploded through the haze in fierce, blue heat.

The man was gone in a howl.

Hastily, I rolled out of bed and made my way downstairs, rubbing my eyes until they felt sore, raw and awake. As alive as I wanted to be. I reached slowly up and touched the spot in between, wondering.

Could Dad be the Bloodletter?

I thought,
What does that make me?

I stopped in the hallway next to a mirror. I wanted more than anything in that moment to keep walking, but I had to see. I had to know if I was the same. I held my breath, closed my eyes, and turned to face my reflection.

Two days
, he’d said last night, while Kate had given me three.

How many did I have left?

When my eyes opened, I saw me. Just me, with the shadow of my past looking back.

~

“No more, Mom,” I said, my mouth full with warm eggs. “Seriously, I’m stuffed.”

“Oh, come on,” she said, spooning more on my plate. “If you don’t eat it’ll just go to waste.”

I puffed a drone of tight air onto my plate and the eggs quivered. This had become our Saturday morning ritual; Mom making breakfast, usually scrambled eggs or omelets with a side of bacon and burnt toast, me eating most of it and her settling for a bowl of bran-something, scowling with each bite.

“So, how is Tanner?” she questioned me. “How is everything going at school? I feel like we haven’t talked in a long time.”

“
Tyler
, Mom,” I said, ignoring the fact that she couldn’t remember my best friend’s name. “He’s good. Same old.”

She set her mug of coffee on the table, the liquid splashing out in drops too light to be only coffee. Looking out the window, she said, “Are you sure? Nothing new?”

My mind raced.
Dad. Kate.

“Mom, there’s something...”

I touched my neck in the spot where it was still tender from the night before. Every time I mentioned Dad’s name it was like someone threw a blanket of cold unease over the house.

“What is it?”

She wanted nothing, her eyes spoke that much. I could see the way they shone, dull and gray, and knew my secret would break her completely. She was already crying.

Last night would be another secret untold.

“Everything is pretty good,” I said, smiling wide. I felt her look away. “I’m sure, Mom. Nothing new.”

I could see it in her eyes whenever I spoke:
Luke
.

This conversation was killing her.

My heart:
I am killing her.

I turned to look down at my plate.

I wanted to say this:
Tyler is right. I will never be what he is. I know that now. There is nothing to worry about.

But I couldn’t.

Still, I worried for Mom more. Her eyes were sunken so that a deep blackness encircled each, and her skin had become sallow and tight. Even her lips seemed thinner, as if her breaths came less frequently. As if she weren’t breathing at all.

“So,” I started, not knowing where I was going. “I went over Tyler’s last night to have dinner with his family. Mrs. Little wishes you her best.”

She grabbed the newspaper next to her, turning it to the Lifestyles section. “Hmmm. Sounds nice.”

“You know, Mom,” I tried, “you should really think about coming over to the Littles one day. I know they would really love to have the both of us over.”

“We’ll see,” she replied, her face buried in the newspaper. “Twenty more gone from Jefferson County. They say the count is up to a few hundred in Detroit and Memphis. Two more missing since yesterday from Lakewood Hollow. I wonder why they didn’t mention any names. Have you heard anything?”

“Not a thing,” I sighed and took another sip of my bitter coffee.

She wrinkled the paper and moved it closer. “They’re saying everyone should act normal, that because nothing is confirmed we shouldn’t worry.”

I couldn’t help it. “Mayor White is dead. The whole state is basically red with blood and you agree we should ignore it?”

She didn’t answer.

We sat in the kitchen for a few more minutes, quietly sipping our coffee and enjoying the silence of company. It was the perfect Saturday morning, except that Mom wasn’t really reading the paper, and I wasn’t really enjoying the silence.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” Mom said, brushing the paper softly with her hand to smooth the permanent wrinkles.

“The Homecoming bonfire is tonight,” I told her. “If they don’t cancel it because of the missing people.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

“Are you sure? We could hang out instead, I went to the bonfire last year so I pretty much know how it goes.”

“No, no. It’s really okay,” she said, smiling and shaking her head. “I actually have some work I need to finish for a board meeting on Monday, so that will give me some extra time to work in the quiet house.”

“Okay,” I said.

She got up from the table, gripping her mug tightly. “I think I’m going to go rest for a while. I’ll see you in a bit. Remember to wear a sweatshirt tonight. Your green one’s clean.”

Perfect
, I thought.

~

Every year Homecoming made the air thick with hope and anticipation. And every year that feeling reached a crescendo on the night of the Homecoming bonfire. Students gathered from all crowds to feel the warmth for all different reasons. There were those hoping they might meet their true love, and those anticipating a night with one already found. Hope for popularity and anticipation of rejection. The bonfire was a night of moments; some screamed out loud and some better left unsaid. Tonight, though, the quiet moments were framed in a circle of  officers, armed and ready.

I looked at the police in their blue uniforms, the orange light from the bonfire making their black holsters shine. They were safety.

For tonight-

I’m safe.

Though I couldn’t help but wonder: If Lakewood Hollow was supposed to be living normally, why were we surrounded like this?

I made my way through bodies that moved like flames afraid to burn out, each of them kissing another, intertwined. I always loved the way the air smelled on this night: burnt and alive. It reminded me of everything good about my childhood, all the happy memories of camping trips and s’mores before the downfall. There was something about a bonfire that made it magical, a beacon in the night signaling that anything could happen.

I saw Annabelle and Chad kissing feverishly in the darkness just beyond the firelight, ignoring the officer glaring at them. Their rings glinted against the fire and, bright as the flames were, the night seemed to embrace them in shadow. I wondered if they were cold, or if their love was keeping them warm. With their hands linked together, dark and light, I wondered if they were happy.

The shadows dancing off the fire felt like warnings; somewhere out there was my father, his heart beating for one more drop of blood.

I moved slow, cautious. Looking around, I found Tyler standing with a few guys from the football team. Brett, Justin, and Charlie; they always included me in anything the group did. Or tried to. I tried to be polite about turning them down most of the time; I couldn’t stand around for hours talking about grunts and burps. Together Tyler and I were different, but with this group I knew I didn’t fit. I tugged my green hood on and walked over.

“Hey guys,” I said, pulling my hoodie tighter around me. “What’s going on?”

Charlie grunted.

“Not much, Wade,” Justin said, slapping my back. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I shrugged, feeling my shoulders shake.

Tyler walked up next to me and whispered, “You okay? You seem upset.”

I sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that you’ve known me for so long.”

His lips tilted to a smile, but in the soft light I could see his emerald eyes dark as night wanting more. “Spill it. Come on, let’s walk.”

The crowd shifted around us as we moved, waving to people we knew and those we didn’t. For every step we took, a pop of burning log sounded, sparking bright moments of light into the night.

I breathed deeply, inhaling the smoky air as if autumn would be gone tomorrow. I whispered, “I saw my Dad last night on the way back from your house.”

Tyler stopped but said nothing. His eyes, now an orange color from the light of the fire, were wide. Was even he afraid of my father?

“He was just there, out of nowhere,” I continued. “He was crazy and he grabbed my arm and my neck and his eyes were so angry.”

“You okay?” Tyler’s voice was barely audible. “Did he hurt you?”

I shook my head. “I’m okay, but he told me I have two more days left.”

“Two days? But Kate said you had three. Does that mean they know each other?”

I felt my face grow pale. “I don’t know. But I don’t want to think about it now, Tyler. What happens to me tomorrow or the day after? I don’t want to think about it.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

For a while we stood there, both silent. The sounds of the bonfire popped around us, but somehow we stayed untouched.