Page 3 of Taken By the Vampires
Steeled by determination, I almost drove right past the track that would take me towards the cabin. It wasn’t signed and was so overgrown, I’m sure people would pass it if they didn’t know it was there.
I slammed on the brakes and reversed, slipping a little in the mud. I manoeuvred the truck down the ditch and then gave it a burst of gas to get it up the slope. The headlights outlined the branches with stark light as I pressed on up the hill. Metal screeched as branches scratched the sides of the truck.
Snow fell harder, compacting onto the two-wheel track, turning the mud into packed ice. The track ended in a dead end. Now for the hard part. The part I hadn’t exactly thought through. There was only one way to the cabin, and that was now on foot.
I turned the interior light on. There was enough garbage on the backseat to fill a dumpster. I emptied out a plastic bag big enough to fit the Grimoire and keep it watertight.
The cold was already invading the truck’s interior. Taking a steeling breath, I hugged the book to my chest and flung open the door.
The frigid, damp hit me like a fist. My shirt, jeans and ballet flats were no match for weather this cold. A stiff wind cut through the trees, coating me in wet snow in a heartbeat. I left the keys in the ignition and closed the door. No one in their right mind would come here and steal it. Then again, no one in their right mind would have done the crazy things I just did.
It took a moment to find the overgrown track. Freezing rain soon soaked through my clothing, my skin and seeped into my bones. If I wasn’t so desperate, I’d take my chance in the truck, but I forced myself to keep walking. Keep going. One step after the other.
I forced myself to think of better things as I pushed onwards. Brighter things. Anything to take my mind off the cold and the wind, the driving rain and the terror of the darkness, but soon that become too hard. The cold stole my thoughts. Everything slid from my mind, except the need to take the next step. And then the next. I slipped. Righted myself. Slipped again. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
Maybe I should go back to the truck. I turned, now unsure which way I’d come. The darkness pressed in on me. The trees hunkered towards me, swallowing me whole.
Which way? Which way? I didn’t know. Had to move. Had to keep going. Jagged pain radiated from my numb feet. Every step was torture. Step. Step. Step. It became a mantra. I had to keep going. Keep moving. I had to be closer to the hut now. Had to.
I walked through sheer will. Each step heavier. Harder. A tingle ran over my body. Something electric, as though I’d stepped through cobwebs. Wind whipped the branches into a frenzy, soaking me with frigid water. A blizzard came from nowhere, hard particles of snow sandblasting my skin.
I held onto the Grimoire tighter, pressing it into my chest as though it might provide me some form of warmth. I shivered relentlessly. My body’s reaction to trying to generate heat. My fingers, hands, feet legs and arms felt removed from my body. I was cold. So cold.
I faltered, falling down onto my knee, my outstretched hand sliding into frigid mud. I shook the sluggish dizziness from my head. Staggered to my feet. A sound came from behind me. A twig snapped. Eyes on me, weighing me down. Shit, maybe a bear. Breath tangled in my lungs, which were laboring to function. I swung around to get a face full of ice-encrusted leaves.
I slipped, went down. Pain ripped through my skin as I slid off the track and down the slope, tumbling over and over. A shout? No, my brain clinging to hope someone knew where I was.
I was alone. All alone.
Down, down, down.
Stones gouged my back. Skin was flayed from my palms. My body pinged off tree trunks that I desperately tried to grab but missed.
Over I rolled, over and over again, my body nothing but a mass of white pain. The world spun. My brain spun. Something hard hit my forehead. There was a moment when I wasn’t part of my body before I slammed back into a world of nauseous agony. I drowned in the absolute darkness and knew nothing more.
Chapter Three
Voices. Low murmurs. Warm arms. Hard chest. Carried like a baby. Overwhelming pain scraping my skull. Impenetrable darkness and oblivion.
*
Arguing. Men. Angry. My body jerked in terror before I was swept away on a sea of agony.
*
Light. Too bright. Too sharp. Pain ricocheted in my head. I tried to cover my eyes. Hand too heavy. Turn my head away from the light. A feeble movement. Exhausted. A voice murmured. Indistinct words. Calming, somehow. A palm behind my head. A cup at my lips and cool water down my throat. Relief. Sleep. Nothing.
*
I surfaced. Male voices spoke softly.
“She has the Grimoire.”
“The question is – why would she have it? And why come here with it? She could have been sent by Ginevra. She’s more than what she seems.”
“She kind of looks like her, don’t you think?”
‘Don’t be stupid. Ginevra has been dead for centuries.”
