Page 3 of Resurrection
“We need to find a doctor.” The words coming out of my mouth sound distant and faint.
“No!” Sara grabs my arms in a death grip, so strong you’d think I was getting ready to leave.
I wasn’t. My body is frozen solid in this spot.
“He needs help, Sara. Help that you and I can’t give him.” Shaking off her grip, I reach my hand out, pushing the damp hairoff Eddie’s forehead. “I’ll find help, Eddie, I promise. Just hang on, okay?”
“It’s okay, April. It’ll pass. Please don’t leave.” His gray eyes are glossy with fever, making me stare at him, dumbfounded for not noticing it before. “No one will help us; we know that. It can only get us all killed.”
Silence follows his words, and the sounds of drops hitting a puddle in the tunnel are too loud to my ears. Like a nail to my brain, they keep pounding.
Plop…plop…plop…
“No!” My shout makes Sara jerk back. Startled at my outburst, Eddie’s eyes open wide. Even the mutt perks up his floppy ears. “No one is getting killed, and no one is dying. Do you hear me?” My brain is rattling in my head, coming up with a dozen ideas and dismissing them the same second. Grabbing Sara by the shoulders, I stare at her sternly. “We don’t need a doctor. I’m going to find some medication. You need to keep him breathing until I come back, understood?”
“No…but…no,” Sara stutters, flinging her head violently left and right, her braid slapping both our faces.
“Yes!” Shaking her until she stops and stares at me wide-eyed, I breathe through my nose to stop the panic that is building inside me. “I’m not sure how long it’ll take me, but you must promise not to leave this place and keep your brother alive, Sara. I will find medication, and I will come back. Do you understand me?” Stressing that I will come back, I wait until she nods jerkily. “Good.” My shoulders sag before I push myself up on trembling legs. “That’s good. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”
Sara nods more firmly, grabbing her brother’s hand in both of hers. Eddie watches me, hope shining brighter than the fever in his eyes. There it is again—hope, that cruel bitch—but I’m adamant about beating her at her game this time. Ten yearsand one dead monster proves I have luck on my side. I can do this. Walking up to the metal ladder leading up towards the streets above us, I look over my shoulder one more time. Both of them give me wobbly, encouraging smiles that gut me on the spot, making my hands grip the metal tighter. Climbing up with determination I haven’t felt before, I keep praying for one thing.
I pray that I can keep my promise and come back.
I pray that I don’t turn out to be a liar just like my parents.
Chapter Two
I almost jump out of my skin when a horn blares in the distance, causing voices to hoot and scream, answering the sound. Panting, my fingers dig into the bricks of the wall at my back, clutching it for dear life.
This was an idiotic idea!
I should’ve waited until morning before heading out in search of a hospital, pharmacy, or anything I can think of that sells medicine. Daylight means humans. Brainwashed or not, they are easier to outrun or manipulate. I know because I’ve done that before. What I have never done, nor have I dared, is walk around in the middle of the night when all of them are out and about. Rivulets of cold sweat trickle down my spine, causing the shirt to stick to my skin.
If you were not scared for your life and had no problem donating hemoglobin to whichever monster felt thirsty around you, life never changed. Businesses, institutions, even schools continued to function like all was right in the world. The only thing missing was the police. Everything was governed by the Guardians—a name they gave themselves. During the night, vampires dressed in all black patrolled the cities. Whenthe sun came up, humans, or wannabe vampires as we called them, would take their places. At times, the monsters were indistinguishable from the humans. Both were acting cruel and inhumane.”
Trembling at those thoughts, I swallow the lump that is lodged in my throat the size of a tennis ball.
“Don’t be stupid, April. You’ll be fine,” mumbling under my breath, my shaky voice does nothing to assure me.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and numbness crawls through my body. I can feel eyes on me, but my desperate search shows no one around. Swiveling my head left and right, even looking up, squinting in the darkness in case someone is watching from the roofs of the buildings, assures me it’s just my paranoia. Still, I can’t stop the shiver that passes through me, unable to shake off the feeling.
With a deep breath and a good reminder that people depend on me to make it back alive and on time, I peel my fingers one by one off the bricks. Tiptoeing to the mouth of the dark alley, I dart my head out fast for a quick glance. The street seems empty, only the lights from the few large stores and the yellow glow from a couple of street-lights cut into the darkness. After a few deep breaths, I repeat the same thing, slower this time, checking everything before daring to step foot out of the shadows. The feeling of being watched follows me around like the stench from the dumpsters that I can’t seem to wash off my skin no matter how hard I scrub when I get a chance to have a quick shower. But the stench is good. It means they can’t smell you in the tunnels or even on the streets above it. The invisible eyes probing the back of my head and between my shoulder blades, however, are not. It makes me jumpy and jittery.
The Financial District looks deserted. Come to think of it, it has been tranquil the last few days compared to how it usually is in this part of town. On a normal night, this place will bebustling with life, music coming from the bars, chatter like a buzzing of bees adding a constant hum that never goes away and mixes with the honking of cars and raving of engines. Quiet is not what you associate with Los Angeles, so red flags and alarms are blaring in my head. LA looking like a ghost town often happens when the Council has some grand celebration or something great happening. Everyone gathers at the Council Towers, leaving the city to breathe a breath of fresh air, so to speak. Tonight might be one of those nights. Grinning from ear to ear, I shake off my hands next to my body.
“Lady luck at your service again, April.” Giddy with excitement, I speed up my steps, almost skipping down the street.
Passing the Los Angeles Public Library, another shudder goes through me when I look up and see the name on the street sign. Hope Street stares mockingly at me. Unwilling to be superstitious, dismissing it all as a coincidence, I continue with determined steps. Grand Avenue is close by, and that means the Millennium Hotel. Where there is a hotel, there must be blankets. With each step, I start piling up a list of things I need to grab for Eddie. He will need to be warm to get better. Maybe they have some medication there, too. I’ll have to check before I continue looking someplace else. If I find everything there, I’ll go back faster. Not wanting to dwell on things like how I’m going to accomplish getting inside a hotel, I keep dreaming about the look on Sara and Eddie’s faces when they see me. The unusual quiet lulls me into a false sense of security and safety, but I relish it. It’s not often you can walk down the street without looking over your shoulder.
Passing the buildings, I startle when I see another person walking parallel with me. It must be another poor soul looking for food. Sympathy makes me smile sadly at her. Her brown hair looks like a rat’s nest, un-brushed and coiled on top of her head.A smeared face with dirt and grime is turned towards me, while her big, dark eyes watch me curiously. The black shirt and pants she is wearing hang on her shapeless frame. My heart stops, and the breath gets stuck in my throat when I see her boots. Stopping in my tracks, I face her, lifting a hand to my face. She does the same.
“Of course, she does the same, you idiot. It’s you!” I mutter under my breath. I keep staring at the mirror walls of the building.
I haven’t looked at myself in months, so it’s no wonder I don’t recognize my own reflection. Snickering at my own stupidity, I stick my tongue out at myself before moving on. Who cares how you look? The only thing that matters is to keep breathing.
Breathing is good. It’s necessary.
Before I know it, I’m staring at the majestic hotel from across the street. The arched entrance, with its sandy-colored marble, pulls me in like a moth to a flame. As if mesmerized, the invisible thread reels me in and I follow it. Catching myself in time before I can do something idiotic, like walking up to the door, I squeeze myself between two buildings, watching. That nasty feeling probes at the side of my head, but I ignore it. If anyone were watching me, I would’ve been dead by now. The bloodsuckers don’t play games with those like me. They kill on the spot, dust their hands, and move on with their day.
