Jo shot out of the trees behind Galen. She stopped beside Dove. “Oh, no.” Her eyes widened with disbelief.
Vampires were pouring from the hillside, their eyes filled with cold, black abomination, curling their bony fingers, slashing the air with fingernails like scalpels. Bone-colored fangs jutted from their mouths. Others were enduring the process, their jaws unhinged and mouths opened wider than humanly possible. Strands of bloody slime dangled from their lips. Some were gliding down the hill and some leaping through the trees. The boughs swayed and shook, seemingly by a phantom wind, as the dark, quick creatures, invisible, leapt through their branches.
Mike and Lary were trudging towards the other side of the meadow. Mike was dragging a branch behind him with his good hand. Lary’s arms were limp at his side, his shoulders weighed down by wounds and chains. He was trying to keep up. Even from a distance, Jo could see the bloody, mangled flesh around his wrists from the bracelets. She was confused as to why they would be out there by themselves, and frightened to see them so far away.
“Mike!” Galen yelled.
Mike turned around, walking backwards. “We’ll draw them away! Get everyone to the river!” He swatted the air in the direction of the water.
“No! Get back here!” Galen commanded ferociously.
But Mike turned away. “Go!” He shouted over his shoulder.
“Guys!” Galen yelled again. But they paid no attention. He looked over at the vampires and back to the two men. “Whose brilliant idea was this?”
“Theirs,” Dove answered. her misty blue eyes fastened on Lary.
Galen’s lips were pressed in anger, but they relaxed and Jo observed the unmistakable gleam of admiration in his eyes. “Your friends are crazy.”
Jo watched Mike and Lary through her watery eyes. “You mean, your friends.”
He breathed out with a slight grin of admission. “Yeah.”
“I need more ammo,” Drew said, holding out his hand. Seven chess pieces lay in his palm. “They’re made of silver, from Ben’s chess set. This is all I have left.” His eyes, dark like mud, looked down at the pieces as if they were all that stood between life and death. He glanced at April, his face long with regret. “I would’ve been stingier with them, if I’d known…”
Jo dropped to the ground on her knees. “Come on everyone! Find a weapon!” She frantically thrashed through the grass.
“Jo.” Galen’s voice was calm. He knelt beside her and rubbed her back gently. He set his other hand on her forearm to stop her frenzied search. “There’s too many of them,” he said, shaking his head. He gripped her arm and pulled her up.
“What do we do?” She asked, her voice faltering. They both turned to watch the army of death descending the hillside. She leaned against him and pressed her head to the hard muscle in his arm.
“I’m going to end this,” he said.
“How?” Jo leaned away from his arm and looked up at him.
He took her by her shoulders. His luminous eyes roiled with longing, and the agony she had seen in them before. The silvery light couldn’t hide the internal conflict he was fighting. But then they darkened, and resolve took over his expression.
His hands let go of her shoulders. “Stay here and don’t move.” He walked quickly towards the center of the meadow, turning around, walking backwards. He pointed a finger at her. “I mean it! Don’t move. Any of you.” He looked at Jo one final time before turning back around.
“Where’s he goin’?” Drew asked.
Jo took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” she answered with a dry throat. “I think he’s got a plan.”
“It better be a good one,” Drew murmured.
Mike and Lary had stopped and were facing the hill. The vampires poured down it, slowly, like black lava down the side of a volcano. Mike kept his injured wrist pressed against his abdomen. The branch, in his other hand, rested on his bent knee.
Lary stood just behind him, wavering on his legs. He complexion was ashen and he seemed spent from the last battle. He looked back at Dove. Jo saw the distress in Lary’s expression and the exchange between him and Dove evolving. Dove’s attempt at a brave façade melted into sad acceptance, tears streaming down her cheeks. They communicated their love and resignation across the clearing. Jo’s heart ached for them.
“It’s gonna be Ok, Dove,” she whispered. “We’re going to get out of this.”
Dove was silent, her lips trembling.
Jo reached out to put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. Her fingers barely touched the fabric of Dove’s shirt when her friend lurched forward. “Lary!”
Lary’s body folded in on itself and his auburn head disappeared down in the grass.
Like a switch had been flipped, the vampires charged. The dark horde moved forward swiftly, without a sound, as if they had no feet.
Dove screamed and ran to Lary. Jo tried to grab her. “Dove, wait!” Her hand grasped empty air.
In a frenzy of panic, April shrieked and dashed toward the trees. Drew charged after her.
Jo looked at Galen. He was turning around to see the commotion. A cry from Dove yanked Jo’s attention.
Dove was kneeling at the spot where Lary had fallen. Mike was standing between them and a short, scrawny vampire that was snapping his spiked teeth. The creature stayed at length from the aspen branch—keeping Mike busy while other creatures moved up to join him. It was clear what was going to happen. Jo snatched an ivory-colored weapon off the ground and sped to help him. “Galen, help!” She cried.
The vampire got too close—underestimated Mike’s skill—and was jabbed in the gut. It yelped and jumped back, furious. The creatures behind it charged.
Jo ran faster, numb to her raw, blistered feet. She was sure Galen was right behind her.
Mike worked hard to keep the creatures back, twisting and twirling the branch, turning in a circle as they surrounded him, but he faltered and went down on one knee. The gang of evil rushed him.
Jo skidded to a stop, just yards away. She took her stick and jammed it in her upper leg. She shrieked in pain. Instantly, the vampires’ heads turned. They sniffed and snorted as they smelled the blood running down her leg. They licked their lips and charged at her. Jo backed away from their beastly faces and the glass-red eyes protruding out of their skulls. Her ears were assaulted with the smacking of slobbery lips and the clicking of overgrown fingernails clashing together. She threw the bloodied stick at them and ran.
A deafening noise brought her to a halt. It reverberated down through her gut. She crumbled under its ear-piercing harshness and fell to her knees, smashing her hands over her ears. She peered in the direction it had come from. Galen was standing in the middle of the field. He held his hands above his head. Jo didn’t understand what he was doing or what had made that incredible sound.
Like magnet to steel, every creature began skimming over the earth towards Galen, closing in on him. They grunted, sucked back slobber, snarled and growled. She yelled at him to run, but he stood still with his arms raised to the sky and blood running down them. And then she understood it: he had cut his wrists. The thick, red liquid spilled out of his veins, dripping off his elbows. The sight took Jo’s breath away. Her stomach churned. The desire to vomit was only restricted by terror pumping adrenaline through her body. She tried to yell. A faint, throaty whisper came out, “Galen, don’t—” Please, God, help him!
Chapter 39