Frostbitten: The Complete Series (55 page)

Brittany opened her mouth to speak, but she had no rebuttal. She was just as guilty. Her eyes began to fill with tears as the guilt overwhelmed her body.

Megan took a breath, and then placed a hand on Brittany’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself. Blame me. I did this to you.”

“I blamed you for a long time, but I’m done blaming you, Megan. I got over it—I forgave you. It’s not like you forced this one me—I accepted it, just like you did from James.”

“James?” Megan said.

“James convinced you to be a vampire with him.”

“No he didn’t. Remember that big party—Wallace’s party. Wallace convinced us all to do it, the little shit. Got himself killed that same night. He stole it from his dad.”

“Stole it? Stole what?”

“The blood—The vampire blood. He said it was some top-secret drug they were testing at the military base. Apparently they were using it to make super soldiers. Wallace said that they caught a vampire, here in Snowbrooke. Wallace took us all down to his dad’s office, in the basement, and we all took turns.

“Oh God, we were so stupid—What were we thinking?” Megan said. “It was a bad decision, and we’re stuck with it. We just have to live with it, right? That’s what I keep telling myself—Just accept it and move on.

“Wallace took the first sip—and it hit him hard. He got all hyped up—literally bouncing off of the walls. He couldn’t sit still. I can still remember his hands twitching and his body squirming. He took off, and no one saw him again—not until we all saw him on the news—Dead.”

“How did he die?”

“He got himself killed. He went from house to house—he must have killed a dozen people that night. Finally, someone killed him. If you let your thirst get the better of you, it can happen. The police covered it up—afraid it would put Snowbrooke on the map in the worst way possible—Funny enough, that turned out to be inevitable.”

Brittany was speechless as she listened to the story—the details of her life that had remained a mystery up until that very moment.

Megan stared blankly at the wall as she relived every single mistake of her life. “I’ll kill him, and then maybe I’ll be able to sleep—I’ll be able to move on.”

“You don’t have to,” Brittany said.

“Yes, I do.”

Brittany was silent. Her friend had already made up her mind. There was no convincing her.

“But there’s something I have to do first—Something more urgent,” Megan said, looking back at her friend with a smile.

“What?” Brittany asked.

“It’s another long story for another night—Just try to stay away from Kane, okay?”

Brittany stared at Megan.

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND ONE
THE RIGHT PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME

The last thing Connor could remember as he drifted back into consciousness was wrestling a stranger to the ground; he couldn’t even remember why he was doing it. As his eyes slowly opened, the first thing he saw was a white ceiling—

A white ceiling and a blinking monitor.

82/60

96… 92… 94…

Beep! Beep! Beep!

It took a moment, but his state of confusion began to dissipate. His brain suddenly put all of the elements together—he was in the hospital. Once that realization was made, the other  pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. He remembered the fight—he remembered Hanna with a knife against her throat.

He remembered being stabbed in the gut.

Connor looked down at his loosely fitted hospital gown. He pulled it up—there was a large blood-soaked bandage on his stomach, concealing a long, stitched-up cut. The bandage was taped down well—it was best to leave it be.

“You’re lucky.”

Connor looked over. Michael was sitting in a chair next to his bed, reading the sports section of the local newspaper.

“The blade skimmed your liver—one millimetre in either direction, and they don’t think you would have made it. They don’t think you should have made it at all, as a matter of fact.”

“You saved me?” Connor asked.

“I don’t know about that,” Michael replied. “I guess you could say I was in the right place at the right time.”

Connor stared at his old friend. “Thank you,” he said.

“Don’t mention it. It was nothing.” Michael couldn’t have been more modest.

“Is Hanna okay?” Connor asked.

“Hanna?”

“They were going to kill her. Those guys…”

“I don’t know. It was just you there. I think the police want to talk to you.”

“Are they here now?” Connor asked.

“No—You’ve been out cold for a day—going on two now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like I said—they got you good. You’re lucky you’re alive.”

Neck sore, Connor let his head fall back onto his pillow. He was tired—his body was still extremely weak from all of the blood that he lost.

“Hanna—I think I met her the other day. She was in my dad’s class too, right?” Michael asked.

“Yeah.”

“That Brittany girl—she’s was in the class?”

“Brittany? Yeah,” Connor said. “It’s funny. I had no idea who she was—turns out she’s lived right across the street from me my whole life. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. She seems nice,” Michael said. Talking about Brittany made Michael awkward and nervous. He tapped his fingers against his legs for a moment and then sprung to his feet. “Are you hungry? Can I get you anything to eat?” he asked.

“No—I don’t feel hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten in two days.”

Connor rolled his head over and looked at Michael. “Am I allowed a coffee?” he asked.

Michael laughed. “I don’t know what the doctors would say, but I’m sure I can sneak one in here.”

“I would kill for a coffee right now,” Connor said with a smile. “Thanks, man.”

Michael began to walk towards the door.

“Hey,” Connor said, stopping his friend.

“Yeah?” Michael said, stopping in the doorway.

“My mom—How’s she doing?”

“Your mom? Charlotte, right? I haven’t heard anything from her.”

“She’s here, in the hospital,” Connor said. “She’s been here for a week.”

“Really?” Michael asked. “I’ll ask the nurses. I can check in on her for you.”

“Thanks, man,” Connor said. “Oh—But don’t tell her what happened. It would destroy her. Just tell her I’ve been busy or something.”

“I’ll tell her that you’ve been exhausted from practice.”

“I haven’t practiced in years,” Connor laughed.

“Well I guess you’ll have to start up again,” Michael smiled before he left the room.

As the door closed behind Michael, Connor let his tired head fall back down on the pillow. He stared up at the white ceiling, reliving the whole attack in his mind. Small details were slowly coming back to him.

Buzz!

Next to Connor’s hospital bed was a small bag with all of his things—his wallet, some change and his phone. His phone was lit up with a message. Connor slowly rolled onto his side and reached for the plastic bag. A sharp pain surged through his body and lingered in his fresh cut—a reminder of just how bad his wound was. After a moment of pain, Connor managed to get his fingers on the edge of the bag. He pulled it closer to him, and then grabbed it, rolling back onto his backside. He opened the bag and pulled out his phone.

The message was from Hanna: “Text me when you get this,” the message read.

Connor quickly replied to the message. “Hey. Are you okay?”

It didn’t take more than ten seconds for Hanna to reply. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better, but I’ll be okay.”

“I miss you,” Hanna wrote.

“I miss you too,” Connor replied. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

A warm sensation of relief fell over Connor as he let himself sink back down into his hospital bed.

Bzzz!

Hanna sent another message. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you… I didn’t mean to hurt you.” she wrote.

Connor thought about it for a moment. “I don’t care about that. I just want to be with you,” Connor replied.

“I just want to be with you too,” Hanna wrote.

Connor couldn’t fight the big goofy love-struck smile from his face.

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWO
FOLLOW YOUR HEART

“Just this way,” Ava said to Michael as she led him towards the hospital room of Connor’s mother, Charlotte Knight. They stopped at the door and Ava knocked gently. “Mrs. Knight,” Ava said.

“Come in!”

Ava gently pushed the door open. “I have a visitor here to see you,” she said.

Charlotte’s hospital bed was propped upright, and Charlotte was sitting with a smile on her face. The television was turned off, as was the radio.

Ava scanned the room. “Is your TV broken?” Ava asked.

“No, no. I just don’t feel like watching it,” Charlotte replied in her thick French accent.

“Can I get you anything? A book? The paper?”

“No, thank you,” Charlotte said.

Michael stepped into the room. “Mrs. Knight?”

Charlotte stared at Michael for a moment as she slowly recognized him. “Is that… Michael—Michael Fenner?” she asked.

Ava smiled as she stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

“You remember me?” Michael asked.

“You look exactly the same as you did ten years ago,” Charlotte smiled. “Just ten feet taller.”

Michael laughed. “You look well, Mrs. Knight,” he said.

Charlotte looked around herself at all of the beeping hospital equipment, and the IV tubes that were all over her body. She laughed. “Are you sure?” she said.

“Well—Considering the circumstances,” Michael said. “You’re glowing, as they say.”

“How’s your family doing?” Charlotte asked obliviously.

Michael tried to maintain his smile. “They’re good,” he lied.

“Does your mom still make it out to all of your games?”

“She certainly tries.”

“I miss your mom—she was always so lively—so
je ne sais pas
.”

“She still is,” Michael said.

“That’s good. It’s such a shame you and Connor went you different ways—I mean, it was good for you. I’m glad you did so well for yourself. I just wish we could have stayed closer with your family.”

“Well—It’s not too late,” Michael said. “I’m sure my mom would be happy to see you again.”

Charlotte looked over at the window. The vibrant yellow Christmas lights outside cast a warm glow onto Charlotte’s face. “Maybe in another life,” she said.

Michael was suddenly felt an awkward lump in his gut. Something was wrong—Charlotte’s response was strangely out of character. “Connor felt bad—he hasn’t had a chance to come and see you in a few days. He’s been worried. I had a spare moment, so I thought I would just come in and check up on his behalf—Give you both some peace of mind.”

“That’s very kind of you. When you see him again, tell him not to worry so much. He’s a sweet boy, but he worries way too much.”

Michael laughed. “I’ll tell him that.”

“Really—Tell him not to worry. Tell him it’s all okay.”

Michael smiled. “I will,” he said. The lump in his gut was growing, turning. Something was definitely wrong. A chill stung Michael’s bones. After an awkward moment of silence, Michael forced another smile. “You’re looking well—They’ll probably be releasing you soon, right? Maybe we could all get together for a dinner soon.”

Charlotte smiled, but didn’t reply. She had nothing to say—nothing that Michael wanted to hear. “It’s so nice to see you, Mikey,” she said.

Michael stood awkwardly in silence for a moment. The whole hospital was unusually silent in that very moment. “Can I get you anything?”

“No—I’m more than alright. Thank you for the offer.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad to see you’re well,” Michael said. “I’ll let you get some rest.” Michael turned to the door and reached for the handle.

“Michael?” Charlotte said, stopping Michael from leaving.

Michael turned around. “Yeah?”

“Tell Connor that I love him.”

Michael stared at Charlotte for a moment. “Sure—Absolutely,” he said.

“And tell him to stop worrying—just follow his heart.”

“Follow his heart?” Michael said.

Charlotte smiled. “Tell him to forget what I said before, and to just follow his heart.”

“Bye, Mrs. Knight,” Michael said as he opened the door. He smiled at Charlotte one final time before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

“
Bonne nuit,
” Charlotte said.

Another shiver buzzed through his spine, making the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He stood still for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

“Coffee,” he muttered to himself, returning to the present.

A nurse walked by.

“Excuse me,” Michael said.

“Yes?”

“Where can I find coffee?” Michael asked.

“Just at the end of the hall, and to the left,” the nurse said.

“Thank you.” Michael began to walk down the hallway. He reached the end and turned towards the coffee machine. The whole time, that lump continued to turn as it lingered in the pit of his stomach. The anxiety grew and grew with every moment. It was so overwhelming that, once Michael had plugged his change into the coffee machine, he forgot what he was doing. He stared blankly at the coffee machine. After a moment, he took a breath and recollected himself. He pressed the right set of buttons and then picked up the cheap dispensed coffee.

He started to walk back down the hallway.

A flurry of nurses suddenly ran past Michael, towards Charlotte’s room. Michael moved aside and stopped against the wall. The lump was rising up from his gut, into his throat. His head began to spin—he didn’t want to believe it.

He slowly started to walk towards the room. The door was wide open as two nurses and a doctor rushed in. Michael took a deep breath—
it couldn’t be
.

Michael stopped walking as soon as he could see into the room. The nurses and the doctor were all huddled around Charlotte’s motionless body. Her vitals monitor was emitting a solid tone—her heart rate flat lined. Her eyes were shut.

A paramedic ran into the room. The doctor was shouting commands to all of the flustered nurses as he performed CPR. The doctor pushed down hard into Charlotte’s chest. “Where’s that defibrillator?” he shouted.

“It’s warming up,” the paramedic shouted back.

“I need it
now
.”

“It isn’t ready.”

“We’re going to lose her!”

“Stay with us, Mrs. Knight!” Ava said. “Try to stay with us!”

“There’s no pulse.”

“Ten seconds!” the paramedic yelled.

“We don’t have ten seconds! Just bring it here!”

The paramedic grabbed the defibrillator unit and rushed over. The nurses moved aside while the paramedic lined up the handles. “Clear!” he yelled.

Zap!

Charlotte’s lifeless body jolted for a moment before settling into place again. The paramedic started to recharge the defibrillator, and the doctor resumed CPR. Nothing worked.

“It needs another twenty seconds,” the paramedic said.

The doctor pushed harder and harder with every revolution—hope was quickly being lost.

The nurses remained by the sidelines—there was nothing they could do, no way they could contribute. The room was cold and silent between the doctor’s commands.

“Ten seconds!” the paramedic called out.

The doctor was quickly tiring. Each slowing push was accompanied by a grunt. The paramedic stepped in again. “Clear!” he called out.

Zap!

The swift shock was once again unsuccessful. The paramedic looked to the doctor for further instruction. The room was completely solemn.

Ava, standing near the wall, wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Time of death: Fifteen hours, forty three minutes, December twenty-second,” the doctor said in defeat. “Cover her up, please.”

One of the nurses pulled the sheet over Charlotte’s head, and then walked to the door. She looked at Michael briefly, and then closed out the world.

Michael, with a cooling coffee in his trembling hand, was completely flustered. A beautiful soul just died.

Michael stepped back into Connor’s room, closing the door behind him.

“Coffee!” Connor said with a smile as he carefully propped himself up in his hospital bed. “Thank you so much.”

Michael walked over and handed his friend the coffee. “Yeah—Sorry it got kind of cold.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

Michael forced a smile. Connor had no idea.

Connor took a sip of his coffee. “It may be the worst coffee in the world, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Yeah,” Michael said, forcing a laugh.

“You okay?” Connor asked.

Michael looked into Connor’s eyes, and then looked away quickly. He couldn’t bare the thought of telling Connor. “Huh? Yeah.”

“You didn’t get one for yourself?” Connor asked.

“No—I’ve had plenty.”

“Suit yourself.” Connor continued to drink his coffee.

Michael awkwardly walked through the room.

“Did you see my mom?” Connor asked.

Michael stopped and looked towards Connor. He thought for a moment. “Yeah.”

“How is she?” Connor asked.

“Um,” Michael said. “She seemed good,” he said. “I was surprised that she recognized me.”

“She did? Yeah—She never forgets anyone. I think it’s a French thing.”

Michael bit his tongue.

“Did she say when she would be released?” Connor asked.

Michael was silent once again. He wanted to just tell Connor—he knew that he had to, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “She didn’t mention it.”

“You didn’t tell her about me—did you?”

“No,” Michael said.

“Thank God. She would die.”

Michael’s heart sank into his stomach. He felt sick. “Connor…”

“Yeah?”

Michael took a breath and considered his words carefully. “Your mom—Your mom…”

Connor’s smile began to sink.

“She said that she loves you,” Michael said.

Connor was silent for a moment. The cruel lump that burned a hole in Michael’s gut found its way inside of Connor. He stared blankly at Michael.

“Connor—I’m sorry—I don’t know how to tell you…”

“She’s okay, right? My mom is okay.”

“Connor, I’m so sorry. I—I’m so sorry.”

Connor’s head was spinning. He suddenly felt ill. His eyes quickly filled up with tears. Michael didn’t have the courage to deliver the message.

There was a knock at the door. It was the doctor—Charlotte’s doctor.

“Mr. Knight?”

Connor looked at the doctor, his eyes wide.

“Can I have a word with you—alone—for minute?”