Eventide Page 11


Go to her, Riley. She has what you desire. What you need. You can see she no longer wants life. She weeps because her heart’s been shattered. You can comfort her. Do it…


I turn my head to the left, then right. No one there. The voice, I realize, is in my head. Urging me. I want it to stop so badly, I cup my ears with my hands. It doesn’t work though. The voice continues.


Go to her. Do not hesitate or she’ll get away. This is your chance, Riley Poe. Listen with not your ears but your being. Her life force rushing through her with each beat. You know you want it. Soon you’ll realize you need it. It will satisfy that unquenchable thirst. You have it, don’t you Riley? A thirst that no drink can quench. A hunger no food can satisfy. She can help you. It will tame the darkness growing inside of you. Do it now, Riley Poe…


“No,” I whisper out loud, but it’s a weak whisper. The girl’s heartbeat becomes louder, my senses homing in on everything that creates it. With each thump-thump that echoes through my body, desperation builds within me until it reaches such a pitch, I brace myself against the wall to keep from sliding to the sidewalk. I…want it. Need it. Something pulses inside of me, driving me forward.


Yes, that’s right. You’re weakening, aren’t you, Riley Poe? Save yourself. Go to her…


My insides are on fire now—a burning that feels as though no amount of water will extinguish the flames. With my stare fixed on the girl, I move slowly forward and silently toward her.…


“There you are,” Riggs says. “Been looking for you. Eli’s on fire, so heads up.”


My eyes focus on Riggs. “What do you mean?” I ask.


Riggs shrugs, and the light from a nearby post gleams off his dark hair. “He’s run around the industrial park twice looking for you.”


Shooting a quick glance left and right, I turn my gaze back to Riggs. Confusion muddles my brain. “I…was right here all along.”


Riggs walks closer and peers at me with a questioning look. “You okay, babe?” he says, ducking his head and inspecting my face. “You look kinda funny.”


I feel a little spacey, light-headed, but I don’t confess it. “Yeah, you always look kinda funny. Where’s Eli?”


“Where’ve you been?” Eli says, suddenly beside me.


I look up into his penetrating stare. In the darkness his eyes all but glow. “Thought I saw something. I came right back here.”


As if weighing my words, Eli studies me. Concern pinches his brows together and it’s a look that happens more frequently now. “You didn’t see anything then?” he asks.


“No.” I don’t know what I saw. Everything is a blur to me now.


Eli pulls me against him with one arm and presses his lips to my temple. “Let’s go,” he says quietly. “It’ll be dawn soon.” His cell vibrates, and he pulls it out of his pocket and lifts it to his ear. “Yeah. We were just leaving. Be there in fifteen.”


With a quick glance at Riggs, then me, Eli takes off. We both fall in behind him. Crossing Highway 21 at the side exit of the industrial park, we slip behind an old run-down oil and lube and hit the woods behind it. We reach the train yard within minutes, find the Jeep and climb in. Eli drives. From my peripheral vision, I can see he silently watches me. I know he’s worried—I am too. I feel like something’s missing, as if I fell asleep and woke up hours later. As we pull onto the service road, I rest my head and stare at the scenery as it flashes by. Quickly, we make our way to Bay Street, then hit Whitaker and take the squares slowly. We see nothing out of the ordinary. When Eli pulls into a parking space next to Forsyth Park, the others are there, waiting. The sun is a thin golden crack, edging through the clouds overhead, and the light surrounding us is hazy. A slight mist hangs low to the ground. Riggs leaps from the back seat over the edge of the Jeep. I use the door.


Seth immediately comes to me. “You okay?” he asks, carefully watching me, inspecting my face, my eyes.


“I’m fine, bro,” I lie. “Glad the night’s over though. I’m exhausted.”


He nods and drapes an arm over my shoulder. “I think I could eat fifty Krystals by myself.”


I glance sideways at him. “That has nothing to do with your tendencies, Seth Poe. You could manage that before.”


My brother grins at me, and just seeing his warm, smiling face settles me somewhat.


“Anything unusual?” Phin asks. He’s talking to Eli, but looking at me.


“Just your average cocky newlings,” Eli responds. “Mostly male, a few females. All youth.”


“Same with us,” Luc says, and moves to stand next to me. “Zetty nearly got his ass beaten by a female.”


I glance at Zetty. He merely growls.


“There’s a place down on the Vernon,” Josie says, leaning against Phin’s truck. She has her hair pulled back into a single braid. “Don’t forget about that.”


“That’s right,” Phin says. The hazy early-morning light blends with the porcelain smoothness of his perfect features, which stand in contrast to the darkened area on his jaw that would be a beard, if he let it grow out. “An old dock house. Pretty big. Looks like several have been staying there.”


“I could smell them,” Josie says, and squinches her nose. “Newlings stink.” She regards me silently, her mouth tilts into a grin.


“You should’ve seen Riley,” Riggs brags. “She pulls this wicked-sick leg lock around this newling’s neck.” He throws a proud smile at me. “Kick ass.”


“Then you should watch it, worm,” warns Luc, who gives me a wink.


Traffic begins to move more frequently past the park, and Eli walks over to me. “Ready to go?” he asks.


“Yeah,” I say, and I mean it. “I’m tired.”


“Later, guys,” Eli says, and we get into the Jeep. Seth walks me around to my side.


“I’ll see ya later, okay?” he says, and gives me a quick hug. “I’m not too tired and we’re going to work on our project for a while.” Seth inclines his head to Josie.


Josie shrugs. “My mother loves to give us school projects. You know, like for science. I think she has us making a volcano soon. And a constellation mobile. I’ve made too many to count in the past but she loves them, even if they sound a little young. I’ve even asked if we can do something cool, like dissect a cow’s eyeball or something. No go. But we’ll study several things with the microscope.”


I nod. “Sounds good. Catch you guys later,” I say.


We all part ways; Eli and I head back to Inksomnia.


As we drive through Savannah’s squares, even the annoying sounds of traffic—horns blowing, people shouting, and somewhere close by, a jackhammer—none of it is able to keep my eyes open. My lids feel heavy, and they drift shut. The sounds around me, even the wind, extinguish. I vaguely recall my body being lifted and carried indoors. Next thing I know, the world around me is pitch black, and I’m dead to everything except the sound of my sluggish heartbeat.


It’s nighttime, and darkness envelops me. Not just the physical lack of sun, but inside of me is dark, also. As I walk along the sidewalk, it consumes me. I’m like a cat, always on alert to catch something unsuspecting off guard. Play with it for a while. Sink my teeth into it. Kill it.


What? What the hell was that? I stop in midtracks and look around. The street is empty except for the Savannah Yellow Cab that is parked a few blocks away. The oaks loom overhead; the Spanish moss hangs like wispy gray hair, matted and knotty. Shadows surge from the corners of yards and aged brick homes. I like the darkness, and I like the shadows even more. Menace. That’s what I feel. But why?


I begin to move again, slowly up the sidewalk toward the cab. I have no intentions at first; I’m just there, a form of life moving through shadows, trying to find my way…somewhere. I guess I have no purpose. But the very instant my eyes lock on the red ember of a lit cigarette flame inside the cab, I know. I am fixated on it now. On what’s inside the cab.


The regular thump of the heartbeat of the cab driver resonates in my ears. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.


I have purpose. I have intention.


A craving roars inside of me. It takes on a life of its own and I am powerless to stop it. Or, I simply don’t want to. The lines are blurred now. I’m confused. This thing inside of me? It pulses. Breathes.


Possesses.


I move through the shadows now, closer to the parked cab. Closer to the heartbeat. As I sidle up to the passenger side door, I tap on the window with my index finger.


The window rolls down.


“I’m on a break,” the cab driver says with the cigarette clenched in his lips.


I smile and lean down to look at him through the window. My hair falls over my shoulder. “For how long?”


The cab driver’s eyes dart directly to my low-cut shirt, where his gaze lingers on the swell of my breasts. I allow it. Encourage it by taking a few exaggerated deep breaths. Then, he looks at me and grins. “Till now. Hop in.”


I grasp the door handle to the backseat and climb in.


“Where to?” he asks, looking at me through his rearview mirror. A panel of plastic glass separates us.


I shrug casually, lean back against the seat, and lock my eyes with his through the mirror. “Tybee. North Beach.”


Again, he grins. “You got it.” Only now does he flick the cigarette out the window. Then he puts the cab in drive and pulls out onto the street. At Victory, we take a left. We’re both silent until well onto the Island’s Expressway, nearly to North Beach. Silent, but the cab driver’s eyes continuously flicker to the rearview mirror to watch me. Although I’ve looked at him, I can’t tell you what he looks like. I don’t know the color of his eyes, or his skin. I don’t know how old he is. I know only that despite his cigarette smoking, his heart is strong. Damn strong.


We are just cresting the last bridge. The roads are empty, the night moonless. The tide is high, and the pungent scent of brine lingers heavy in the air. I see a side street edging the marsh. “Take a right,” I say.