The Dead
2
"Slimy bastards," Leah spat, crouched over a hard bench, hands working to tie the bandage tighter around her thigh, "We had them, and still they slipped away. Dammit Smith, can't you drive?" Her face shot through the van as they ran over another bump, cursing Smith in the drivers seat.
"Sorry Leah," He mumbled, keeping his eyes intent on the dark wet roads, guiding them round and round winding cliff side roads.
A cloud of smoke blew around the orange light of a cigarette, "Calm down, we missed them, but they wouldn't be going too far," A strong man's voice filled the rumbling van, a voice that was too low to be telling the truth.
"Too far? So far you've had us follow them to the other side of the damn world Anders!"
Smith tightened his grip around the steering wheel, Leah's piercing shouts shooting through his nerves like hot knives through dead vampire flesh.
Titling his head, Anders squinted his beady eyes, "You questioning me?"
A shiver ran down Leah's spine, if there ever was a time when she knew to shut it, this would be then, "No," She let her head drop.
"Good, we don't want another accident like Drea, do we?"
"No."
Smirking, Anders turned his attention on Smith, "How long?"
"Another day ... day and a half tops," He made a quick gesture to toss back his mop of brown hair before crunching his fingers back around the wheel, steering them to their destination.
Oliver lay, dreaming dreams of centuries gone past under the veil of charred eyelids and cool wet compresses. He sang songs in his head that only his mother knew, how long had it been since she died? He wondered about her in the dark cement room.
He could see starts shooting across the nights sky, piercing it into brilliant colors, and how magnificent they were lighting up the only heavens he had been forced to love, but all in years stacked upon years gone by, "I wish I were dead."
"I don't," He heard Hilda's voice say in the dark.
"Wasn't I sleeping?" His head rose, stretching the delicate fire wrinkled skin on the back of his neck till it stung.
Her feet moved, shuffled to his side, then her weight shifted the bed, "No, you were singing. I haven't heard you sing in years."
"There is nothing to sing about, I must have been sleeping ... dreaming," Oliver sighed, wishing he could just roll over and ignore the love sick monster buzzing above him.
Hilda swirled her wash cloth in the bowl of water, "You should eat something."
"I'm not hungry," He grumbled, squeezing his sore eyes shut, just to focus on anything but her voice.
A sigh left her lips, a sigh like so many others, "Fine, don't eat. But I refuse to watch you wither away to nothing."
"Then don't watch, go some place else."
Her mouth moved to say his name, but only shut to her leaving him in cold dark silence.
And from behind his eyelids, Oliver could feel the flames licking his skin, hearing his own screams over and over again sent a shudder through his dead then deader body.
"Hilda?" Baby looked up from the swinging hammock, held apart by hooks forced into the cement walls of the basement.
"He's in a mood," she hissed, smoothing her face over to a blank canvas.
Poking her pixie nose into the air, Baby sniffed, "Sun won't be up for a little while."
"Good, I'm starving."
"You know he'll get over it one day," Baby spoke, crushing the grass under her feet with unnecessarily hard stomps of her feet.
Hilda watched her feet hit the ground, one by one, like a child tackling their very first puddle, "And what century will it be when he does?"
She huffed, knitting her brows and sank to the ground, keen eyes watching as cars drove by the park they treated as regular hunting grounds, though it had never occurred to any of them why they frequented this of all places, maybe it was a sentiment of their lost innocence, or maybe it was the smell left behind by children's bleeding knees.
"Don't be doubtful," Baby's hair ticked Hilda's chin as she lay her head into the crook of her neck, "He still loves you and needs you."
"I'm beginning to wonder that."
Taking in breaths that filled dead lungs, Baby curled an arm around Hilda's waist, "Don't doubt," She looked up at the sky, "The stars are out."
"Sorry Leah," He mumbled, keeping his eyes intent on the dark wet roads, guiding them round and round winding cliff side roads.
A cloud of smoke blew around the orange light of a cigarette, "Calm down, we missed them, but they wouldn't be going too far," A strong man's voice filled the rumbling van, a voice that was too low to be telling the truth.
"Too far? So far you've had us follow them to the other side of the damn world Anders!"
Smith tightened his grip around the steering wheel, Leah's piercing shouts shooting through his nerves like hot knives through dead vampire flesh.
Titling his head, Anders squinted his beady eyes, "You questioning me?"
A shiver ran down Leah's spine, if there ever was a time when she knew to shut it, this would be then, "No," She let her head drop.
"Good, we don't want another accident like Drea, do we?"
"No."
Smirking, Anders turned his attention on Smith, "How long?"
"Another day ... day and a half tops," He made a quick gesture to toss back his mop of brown hair before crunching his fingers back around the wheel, steering them to their destination.
Oliver lay, dreaming dreams of centuries gone past under the veil of charred eyelids and cool wet compresses. He sang songs in his head that only his mother knew, how long had it been since she died? He wondered about her in the dark cement room.
He could see starts shooting across the nights sky, piercing it into brilliant colors, and how magnificent they were lighting up the only heavens he had been forced to love, but all in years stacked upon years gone by, "I wish I were dead."
"I don't," He heard Hilda's voice say in the dark.
"Wasn't I sleeping?" His head rose, stretching the delicate fire wrinkled skin on the back of his neck till it stung.
Her feet moved, shuffled to his side, then her weight shifted the bed, "No, you were singing. I haven't heard you sing in years."
"There is nothing to sing about, I must have been sleeping ... dreaming," Oliver sighed, wishing he could just roll over and ignore the love sick monster buzzing above him.
Hilda swirled her wash cloth in the bowl of water, "You should eat something."
"I'm not hungry," He grumbled, squeezing his sore eyes shut, just to focus on anything but her voice.
A sigh left her lips, a sigh like so many others, "Fine, don't eat. But I refuse to watch you wither away to nothing."
"Then don't watch, go some place else."
Her mouth moved to say his name, but only shut to her leaving him in cold dark silence.
And from behind his eyelids, Oliver could feel the flames licking his skin, hearing his own screams over and over again sent a shudder through his dead then deader body.
"Hilda?" Baby looked up from the swinging hammock, held apart by hooks forced into the cement walls of the basement.
"He's in a mood," she hissed, smoothing her face over to a blank canvas.
Poking her pixie nose into the air, Baby sniffed, "Sun won't be up for a little while."
"Good, I'm starving."
"You know he'll get over it one day," Baby spoke, crushing the grass under her feet with unnecessarily hard stomps of her feet.
Hilda watched her feet hit the ground, one by one, like a child tackling their very first puddle, "And what century will it be when he does?"
She huffed, knitting her brows and sank to the ground, keen eyes watching as cars drove by the park they treated as regular hunting grounds, though it had never occurred to any of them why they frequented this of all places, maybe it was a sentiment of their lost innocence, or maybe it was the smell left behind by children's bleeding knees.
"Don't be doubtful," Baby's hair ticked Hilda's chin as she lay her head into the crook of her neck, "He still loves you and needs you."
"I'm beginning to wonder that."
Taking in breaths that filled dead lungs, Baby curled an arm around Hilda's waist, "Don't doubt," She looked up at the sky, "The stars are out."