Read Living in Darkness (Bloodbreeders) Online
Authors: Robin Renee Ray
May the peace of the night be with
you.
Your new friend,
Isa
I shoved my gown into the bag,
along with the empty jar and the letter. After thinking twice about leaving the
letter, I dug it back out and shoved it into my pocket, deciding it would not
be wise to leave it behind. I dug a small hole with my hands and buried the bag
as best I could. I looked out into the ocean, searching for my ride, and there
it was. The same ship that had delivered me into this hell was now going to
take me home.
I took one last look around, and took off running down the beach as
fast as my legs would carry me. I reached the foamy water in seconds, stunned
by my own speed. It was just one of the many things that becoming this new
being had changed, and I concluded it would take a long time to get used to it.
I dove into the frigid water and started to swim.
As I got closer to the ship, I went underwater and swam that way until
I reached the side of the ship that faced the open water. I felt along the side
until I found the rope to the anchor, and slowly began pulling myself up. I
quickly scaled the side of the ship, coming closer to the top. I closed my eyes
and concentrated on opening my senses. I soon could smell the sweat of men,
mingled with the pungent odor of cheap whiskey. I heard no one moving, or
speaking, so I took my chances and peered over the edge of the boat.
No wonder
,
I thought to myself. There were several sailors on deck,
but every one of them was flat on his back, passed out drunk. I listened for a
minute more just to be sure, and then hauled my body over the edge. I made my
way to the door that led below, to the area where we had stayed during the last
trip, almost tripping on one of the drunken sailors. I sucked in my breath and
held it, thinking I had just done myself in, but the sailor never even budged.
I kept moving, more carefully this time. I then remembered that the
door to the lower deck was right next to the room where the captain bunked, and
as I recalled, he didn’t sleep often. The man always seemed to be up, making
his rounds on deck, and checking the cargo. The thought alone made my heart
beat a little faster. I could only hope that if he was
awake, that I
found him before he found me. I strained my ears the closer I got, and I could
make out a faint scratching sound. I listened harder, and came to the conclusion
that he was writing.
I moved fast, slipping past his door unnoticed, and quickly ran down to
the storage compartment. When I opened the door, I nearly fainted. The room
that had once been crammed full of crates and boxes was now completely empty.
What now
?
I thought. This
had been the one place I knew I could stay, undetected by the crew, and out of
any harm from the sun. I stood there in disbelief, desperately racking my brain
as to where to go now. I hadn’t come this far only to be found and ousted.
I walked quietly, up and down the corridors, looking anywhere and
everywhere for a place to hide. The kitchen, the crew’s quarters, more empty
storage rooms. There was nothing. Even the rooms that were mildly promising had
small round windows that the sun would easily penetrate. That’s when it hit me,
the boiler room.
I made my way to the very bottom of the ship, and saw that my
assumption was correct. It was dark, free of windows, and hot enough that even
the crew that came down here to work wouldn’t linger for any longer than they
must. I was a little surprised at how small it was, though. I had expected the
boiler to stretch along the entire bough of the ship, but it was almost as
small as the captain’s quarters.
What did
you expect
?
I thought to myself.
This
isn’t the Queen Mary
.
That’s
no joke. This piece of junk might as well have been a sailboat in comparison.
The noises down here were deafening, but I didn’t care. After all, I
slept like the dead, and the more noise there was, the less likely it was that
someone would hear me. I just had to make sure to find a place out of any
person’s view. There were several crates down here, some filled with wood, but
most filled with coal. Toward the back, there was a crate that was mostly
empty, and that was just large enough for me to squeeze into. I could only pray
that no one opened it during the day, and that’s what I did. No matter how
things had changed, I still kept great faith in the Lord, and I said many
prayers while in that crate. I prayed for
Tanda
and Garvin.
I prayed to be safe, and for the strength that I needed to get me through this
part of my life, or would it be death? I was still very confused about what I
was, and how I had gotten this way. I knew that what I had become was
unnatural, perhaps an abomination and I prayed for God to take mercy on my
soul. All I knew for certain was that I had a promise to keep, and that I had
to make damn sure that when I went back, I was fully prepared to take that
place down.
Every night since we’d left Cuba, like clockwork, when the sun went
down, so did the anchor, and the crew indulged in their whiskey. It went on
this way, night after night, until one evening I heard an exciting revelation.
“Land ho!” one of the crew announced.
“Drop the anchor. We will wait until morn’ to bring her in.” This voice
unmistakably belonged to
Capie
.
“Aye, sir,” the men hollered in unison.
Let them get drunk and pass out
,
I thought.
It’ll be the last
chance they get
.
Had it not
been for this ship, its crew, and its captain, I never would have been taken to
Cuba, to the agonizing hell that waited. They were enabling those monsters, and
in my eyes, that made them just as guilty as the rest. Who knows how many
others they had brought over? I didn’t know, and right now I didn’t care. All
that mattered was that they wouldn’t be doing it again. This ship, and its
members, would not survive the night.
Chapter 20
It had to be midnight, or later, before things finally started to quiet
down. I carefully made my way to the upper deck to take a look. Some of the men
were sitting around playing cards. Others already lie in heaps on the floor,
cradling their bottles of booze. I noticed that
Capie’s
door was cracked. It was now or never, so I opened the door and walked inside.
Capie
was
sitting at his desk with his back to the door. “Put my tea by the bed,” he
said, not turning around. “I’ll have it there.”
I closed the door behind me, and pulled the blade from the sheath on my
leg. I walked up behind him silently, and stood there breathing down his neck.
He lifted his head, as if annoyed. “I said, leave it...” He didn’t get
to finish. I grabbed a handful of his hair, and yanked back his head so fast, that
he never knew what hit him.
“Hello,
Capie
,” I said, with an evil smile
that bore my fangs in all their glory. “Remember me, you son of a bitch?”
He looked up at me in shock, his eyes wide, and his mouth gaping open. He
sucked in a breath, as if to scream, and I pushed the point of the blade
against his neck.
“Ah-ah,” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t want to do that. This is
going to be messy enough without interference.” He closed his mouth, quivering
in fear. “What did they give you for helping them kidnap me? Slaves, money,
whatever it was, I hope it was worth it. You never should have gotten mixed up
in all of this
Capie
, because now you’ll all pay
dearly.”
“I can pay, please,” he begged. “I have money, lots of it!”
“You don’t get it. I don’t want your money.” I quickly slid the blade
across his throat, and watched as the blood began jet out with every beat of
his heart. “You will pay in blood, just as I have.”
Capie’s
hands flew to his neck, as soon as I released his hair, trying frantically to
stop the bleeding. His head tottered back, and as it did, a pulsating stream of
blood sprayed across his desk. I peered down into his horrified face with
satisfaction.
“Waste not, want not,” I said, right before sinking my fangs into the
gushing wound. I lapped at the blood until I had my fill, then stood and wiped
the blood from my face.
The old saying
was true. The taste of revenge was sweet, indeed.
“Thanks,
Capie
,” I said to the corpse as I
slumped it over onto the desk. “I needed that.” It was only then that I knew,
without a doubt, how easy this was going to be.
I slipped out of his room, locking the door as I left. I made my way
back down to the kitchen, and found the fuel they used for cooking. It was
nothing more than a few large barrels of kerosene, but it would do nicely. I
lifted off the tops of the barrels, and dumped them onto the floor. I dipped a
dish towel into some of the fluid, and caught it on fire using the smoldering
embers of coal that were still burning in one of the stoves. I walked over to
the door, and tossed the blazing cloth into the puddle of fuel. I stayed only
long enough to make sure it caught, and then hurried back up the stairs. No
more did I reach the upper deck when the men playing cards noticed the smoke. One
of them looked up and saw me, momentarily locking his eyes with mine. He opened
his mouth to speak, but before he could, there was a loud explosion below that
shook the entire boat. I gave him a grin of gratification, then bolted to the
edge of the boat, and dove overboard.
I was still underwater when I heard, and felt, another large explosion.
I surfaced to see the boat almost completely engulfed in flames. I heard men
screaming, but saw no one. I stayed there for a moment, treading water,
watching as the boat incinerated. I wanted to stay and watch it sink, if for
nothing more than my own sweet satisfaction, but I was still miles from shore,
and I knew if I wanted to make it to land and find shelter before sunup, I had
to leave now.
*****
I reached the shore quicker than I could have hoped, and turned before
exiting the water back toward the boat. I thought I still would have been able
to see the glow of the flames, but there was nothing. The only light was the
moon reflecting
off of
the rippling black water. I
pulled myself up onto the beach, letting my body flop down into the sand. I was
tired, and had no idea which way to go. I lifted my head to look along the
beach. I knew that the beach house that I had been taken to was somewhere along
this shoreline, but exactly where I was unsure. I let my head fall back into
the sand, and laid there for a little while longer, thanking God for letting me
make it this far.
“Miss you alright?” a man’s voice came out of nowhere.
“Yes I‘m fine.” Startled, I jumped to my feet. “I was just... just
enjoying the beautiful stars.”
As he came closer, I could see that he was only a teen at best.
“Well, this is private property, and you
ain’t
supposed to be here.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I must have walked further than I thought.”
“Well,
it’s
okay, I guess,” he looked at me
for a second then pointed down the beach. “Just don’t go any further south, it
ain’t
safe.”
“I’m not trying to be a pain,” I said looking in the direction he had
pointed. “But may I ask what’s so bad about going south?”
“It just
ain’t
safe, is all,” he replied
staring at me for a few seconds. “A few folks have come up missing in the past
few years. Pa says they have some kind of devil cult.”
So, south it is
,
I told myself.
“Well, thanks for the information,” I said with a closed smile. “Lucky
you were here to let me know.”
“You’re mighty welcome, but you better be moving on, ma’am,” he said
with a bow of his head.
I thanked the young man again, and then headed north. He watched me for
several feet, then turned and walked back the way he came. When I was certain
he was out of sight, I jetted back down to the water, and began to swim in the
opposite direction. I stayed
just far enough offshore
to remain unseen, but close enough where I could see the land clearly. I swam a
few miles before anything came into view, but suddenly there it was. The house
looked just as it had in August. All the lights were on, and I could see
movement inside.
“Great, now what am I supposed to do?” I asked myself aloud.
I swam as close to the bank as I dared
,
to get
a closer look. I couldn’t make much out, as I was swept further and further up
on the beach with each wave that hit me. Before long, I laid half in the sand,
and half in the water, hoping like mad that if anyone saw me, they would just
think I was a giant piece of driftwood.
I lay there a few more minutes, just to make sure that the only
movement I could see was inside
the house, and not out here. When I was
as sure as I was going to get, I made my way, in an awkward style of a
combat-crawl, to the small embankment where the wooden steps led up to the
house. I stayed close to the steps, climbing up the sandy earth, slipping more
than once on the long, thick patches of grass that poked through here and
there.