Outer Banks (21 page)

“Okay.” The fact he didn't argue told me he understood where I was going with this.

“Take care of yourself, kid.”

“Will do.”

I called Ray as soon as I got off the phone.

“Do my ears deceive me? Dillon McAllister! Are you ready to stop lazin' around and get back to work?”

“Yeah. Who do you have?” If I was going to get someone out, I needed to take someone in first.

“Where are you now?”

“I'm in California visiting a friend, so I can pretty much pick someone up anywhere.”

“Perfect. I've got a gal running around in St. Louis. Last seen breaking into mortuaries. Ghoulish. You up for it?”

“Sounds fine.” I closed my eyes. Drinking from corpses. Ghoulish indeed. “Email me the file.”

I was packed and ready to leave in less than half an hour. I went back to Emery's room to wait.

“Corey wants to do it.” I told her once she was up. “He's fourteen. Is it a problem?”

She thought it over. “No. Puberty won't have an effect.”

“I meant ethically.”

“You tell me. He's willing?”

“Yes. I didn't pressure him.”

“But he looks up to you. He wants to make you happy. And all teenagers think they're immortal.”

There was a sting of truth to that. I could only imagine the perceived immortality of youth only got worse once you came back from the dead. “No. He really wants to do this. I want to get him out of that place anyway.”

She nodded in approval.

“I'm already packed. I spoke to your father. He can't be here for a couple of days. You should have plenty of blood until he gets here. Will you be okay?”

“Yes. I'll be fine.”

She walked me out to the van, looking up at the dark sky. The spring air smelled more alive than ever. Rebirth. I decided to think of it as an omen.

“Please be careful,” she said.

I looked down in her dark eyes. “I will.”

“I love you,” she whispered, still looking me in the eye. I couldn't look away, but I couldn't say it back. Not without it sounding like I was only saying what she wanted to hear.

“Em, It's not that I—”

“It's okay, Dillon. I didn't tell you because I wanted you to say it back. I just wanted to tell you. No strings.” She waved it off, but I could see I had hurt her. “Just go get me someone to test this stuff on.” She gave me a light shove toward the van.

“I'll be back soon.”

“Eight days isn't soon in my book.”

“If your dad'll pay for my speeding tickets, I can probably do seven.”

“Deal.” She smirked as I kissed her again and then left.

I was already hashing out how badly I'd messed up as I pulled down the driveway.

Emery didn't understand why those words sounded so final to me, because of my parents. I should have explained.

I debated on whether or not to call her, but the moment had passed for now. I would be ready the next time. The fact that I was so upset over this was only proof that I loved her and felt terrible not saying it back.

I put that aside for the time being. I would focus on this job and then when it was over I would find the right time to tell her.

I pushed myself to drive as far as possible with every hour. I only stopped for five hours to sleep, and ate while I drove. Coffee and Red Bull were my co-pilots.

I made it to St. Louis by the next nightfall. The city was still a being reconstructed, but I was happy to see The Arch was almost back to normal.

I pulled out the map when I got to the last reported sighting—a funeral home—and parked my van a block away. I wanted to get an idea of my surroundings in case I had to chase her.

According to the file, the funeral director didn't want to involve the local police for undisclosed reasons. The woman had been dropping by once a week like clockwork. It was likely she didn't realize anyone was on to her, and the director had never confronted her. Because of fear or compassion, I had no idea, but the file indicated he was concerned she was drawing others to the building.

I watched from my hiding place and waited for her to stick to her routine. As expected, she showed up, approaching the rear door of the mortuary cautiously. She scanned a card to gain access to the building.

“Huh,” I said in surprise, impressed by her resourcefulness. No wonder she thought nobody was on to her.

When she came out she was slower, burdened by a number of bottles hanging around her shoulders. She was taking the blood with her, probably so she wouldn't have to come back so often and raise suspicions.

I followed her discreetly on foot to an abandoned junk yard. She seemed to be staying in an old bus with cardboard lining the windows. I scoped the area for possible exit strategies, then went back to my van and took a nap, waiting for her to fall asleep.

I pulled through the gate of the salvage yard, expecting someone to stop me. No one came out of the small shack by the gate, though. There wasn't even a guard dog.

I drove up right next to the back of the bus. The less distance I had to carry her, the more comfortable things would be for everyone. I pulled out the UV protective bag and went into the bus to retrieve the Haunt, thinking of how everything was going according to plan.

I should have known better. Plans rarely worked out. When I stepped on the bus I realized there was more than one Haunt sleeping inside.

There were four.

I sighed and ran my hand down my face at the sight. The woman I had seen was with two small boys and an older teen, maybe eighteen or nineteen.

The boys, all blond, had similar facial features. The woman was in her forties, and had brown hair. She looked nothing like them. Had she stepped in to take care of them when they'd lost their parents? Whatever the situation, it was obvious now why she'd carried all that blood back.

Was I supposed to take her away and leave them? I couldn't take them all. There was room in back of the van, but not the box, which was meant for only one passenger. With four-against-one odds, they might get desperate and try to overpower me during the trip.

“Son of a bitch!” I huffed as I paced inside the small space. On any other run I might have risked it for the sake of keeping them together, but right now getting Corey out and back to California was more important.

“Okay,” I said to myself, calmly. “The older boy is capable of taking care of the younger two.” I pointed at them with my index fingers.

I wasn't going to take a kid back to the Outer Banks, and the teen might give me a run for my money strength-wise. Even in his infected state, he looked rather large.

“I was sent to get a woman. I'm going to take in a woman.” One way or another, someone would be coming for her.

I carefully wrapped the woman in the dark bag and carried her to the van.

“They won't be alone for long. You'll be with them again. I promise.” I assured the sleeping woman as I loaded her in the box and locked it.

I went back to the boys, leaving all of the blood I could spare from my cooler. This sucked. They were going to wake up and not have a clue what had happened or what to do next. I couldn't waste time sticking around 'til sunset. The best I could do was leave my business card in the older boy's hand with a note.

DON'T WORRY, SHE IS OKAY. WHEN EVERYTHING IS SAFE CALL THIS NUMBER AND I'LL HELP YOU FIND HER AGAIN.

I drove on for a few hours and found a hotel. I parked in a shady spot and went inside to secure a room.

“You got one in there?” The old man at the desk asked me. He had that look about him. The kind that said he didn't approve and that he might make a few phone calls after I went to sleep.

I stared, too tired to get into it with him. I was going to have to drive on to find a new hotel.

I chose a larger place with interior corridors and fancy lights hanging in the lobby. It might be one of the last times I stayed in a hotel for this kind of job.

It dawned on me that my hunting days might soon be over. I could go back to tinkering on cars. I could even afford my own garage with the money I had saved, not to mention what I was being paid by Mr. Mitchell.

As happy as I should have been, something pulled at a tender spot in my chest. What would happen with Emery?

She was a doctor, dedicated to helping others. She was rich and beautiful, and…

I realized then there was no place for me, the mechanic, in her life.

With this oppressing revelation, I drifted off to sleep.

I didn't sleep peacefully. I had constant nightmares.

I pictured the three boys I'd seen as they woke up in fear without their mother. I saw Corey as the drug test backfired and it did unspeakable things to him. I saw Emery, her eyes green, her hair shiny. This time the drug had worked, but I knew she was about to give me the “it's not you, it's me” talk.

I woke up more exhausted than before.

I checked out and grabbed some coffee. I wanted a good head start before I had to pull over and explain to this woman the situation she was in.

“Though with luck, it won't be for long,” I reassured myself.

When it was nearly time for her to wake up I unlocked the lid and swung it open, my UV flashlight handy in case she attacked. Sitting next to the sleeping woman in the box, I glanced at my watch and waited.

She snapped awake and started looking around right away.

“Just relax. You're safe. No one is going to hurt you,” I assured her in my softest voice.

“Where are the boys?” she fretted for their safety above her own. Genetically or not, she was definitely their mother. Damn.

“They're still back at the bus.”

She started to cry. I hated that, the dull gray mascara-like tracks it made every time. She collected herself after a few minutes, and then with a nod she took a breath.

“The last time someone took me in, I was able to bargain for my release,” she whispered as she looked down at her shirt and unbuttoned the top button.

“Whoa, hold on there.” Her fingers froze on the next button.

I wasn't repulsed by her, of course. But knowing some other Hunter had used this woman's devotion to her children like that? God.

“What's your name?”

“Melissa.”

“I'm sorry, Melissa. I would never do that. I was only sent for you. I didn't have room for them. I'm not going to call any attention to them, though. I promise. I even gave them my spare blood and my number so they can find you when this is all over.”

She covered her face, distraught. “Over? It's never going to be
over
!”

“I think it will be. Soon,” I said sincerely, and my tone made her look up at me. “How old is the bigger boy?”

“Nineteen.”

“He'll be able to look after the other two?” She nodded sadly. “I'll help you find each other again. I promise.” She nodded once more.

I gave her a moment to walk around outside the van so she could stretch her legs and come to terms with what was happening.

I could catch her if she ran, but this Haunt had a reason to escape that the others didn't. Nothing would stop her from getting back to her children. Not even me, if she was given the chance. I had to keep my guard up.

“You have a choice. You can either be handcuffed in the passenger's seat or put back in the box. What would you prefer?”

“Front,” she breathed.

I secured her with the handcuffs and then secured her seat belt.

“You're a Hunter?” she asked when I got in and started the van.

“Yes.”

“You're the nicest one I've ever met.”

“Thanks. But I'm guessing the others were pretty horrible, so I'm not sure if that really means much.” I winked at her and she tried to smile.

“They were,” she said as I pulled out on the highway.

“Can I ask you something personal?” I looked over at her. She gave a nod. “I thought Haunts weren't able to…you know.” I sounded like a seventh grade boy, unable to say the word sex.

“Not willingly,” was all she needed to say about that.

I changed the subject. “So what are your boy's names?”

“The oldest is Jonathan.”

“Tell me about him.”

“He played basketball in school. He's very good. He might have had a chance at a college scholarship. The next is Austin, he was seven when they came. He loves music.” I frowned, knowing he would stay seven until he was cured. Emery had explained it to me—the alien fluid did its best to mimic and control our bodily functions. In some ways better, and in other ways a lot worse. Regeneration was one of the upsides, but there was never any new growth, just repairs, trying to keep the body exactly as it was when they transformed.

“And the youngest is Luke,” she went on. “He turned five a few weeks ago, but he still looks four. He loves anything his big brothers do.” She smiled, but there was a sadness there as she began telling me her own story.

Her husband was missing. She didn't know what happened to him. He had called her the day the ships arrived and told her to take the boys and leave the city. They tried, but they didn't get far. They were infected the first night.

As I had guessed, the boys were all the spitting image of their father. She seemed pleased by that for a moment before the sadness and worry took over again.

The night went by quickly with her chatting away about her children proudly, the way moms do.

Her words started to slow down, and I looked at the clock. She was just past the ten hour mark.

“We're going to have to stop soon. I'm going to have to move you back inside the box while you sleep. For your own safety.” She nodded. “I know this is a horrible thing. But here's something you don't know. There's hope. A real chance to fix this. And believe it or not, you're helping me by getting me into the Outer Banks tomorrow. I need your cooperation, so I can help you and your boys. I need you to look at the bigger picture and trust me.”