Dark Corner Read online

  He pushed the car hard. It pissed him off that the bloodsucker bastards had taken over the hospital in Dark Corner, but there was nothing he could do about it. Outside of town, the nearest medical center was in Hernando, about fifteen minutes away-when driving at the speed limit, that is. He wanted to get there in half the time.

  He swerved onto Main Street, at high speed. The tires squealed, and the car tipped to the side slightly, but he didn't roll over. On the straightaway road, he blasted the gas pedal. The engine cried out like a horse popped with a whip, and the vehicle rocketed forward.

  The fastest way to Hernando was to take Main Street to the Interstate 55 North exit, then zoom ten miles down the highway. The 1-55 exit was just past the bridge that spanned the Coldwater River. Only a mile or so ahead.

  Dad groaned again, softer this time. Weaker.

  "Hang on, Daddy!" Jahlil pleaded. Oh, God, he just couldn't think about Dad not making it. Couldn't. Wouldn't.

  But Dad had lost so much blood, it was like someone had dumped a bucket of red paint on him ...

  "He's going to make it," Jahlil muttered to himself. That was it, end of story. Period.

  Ahead, the metal bridge floated into view.

  He rammed the accelerator to the floor. The speedometer ticked to eight-five ... ninety ... ninety-five ... one hundred ...

  Hunched over the trembling wheel, he ground his teeth so hard that his jaws ached.

  One hundred and ten ...

  The bridge was a couple hundred feet ahead.

  Then he saw something unbelievable.

  "Oh, fuck!"

  He frantically mashed the brake pedal.

  The car screeched, skidding to a delayed stop that carried him a quarter of the way across the bridge.

  If he had rolled only twenty feet farther, he would have been dead.

  Because the bridge had been torn in half. Beyond his side, the support beams had been scorched and twisted, and the roadway was split, as if karate-chopped by a giant; the mangled road dropped steeply into the river below.

  Jahlil hammered the steering wheel. "Shit, shit, shit!"

  He knew what had happened. That fucking vampire, Diallo. He had done this. Somehow. He had probably thrown lightning bolts at the bridge, like he was Zeus or something.

  Shit!

  His eyes getting watery, he slammed into reverse, rolled off the bridge and back onto Main Street. He switched off the siren.

  He looked over the seat to check his dad. Dad was unconscious, and he wasn't moaning anymore, but his chest rose and fell slowly, a good sign. It could be worse.

  "Just keep hanging on, Dad," Jahlil whispered.

  But what was he going to do now? Without access to I55, he'd have to take a bunch of winding country roads to get to Hernando. And that damn vampire had probably blocked those routes, too. He was a slick bastard.

  "Think, man," Jahlil ordered himself.

  He remembered that Dad had advised him to call David Hunter if anything bad happened. He didn't know what Hunter could do to help him, or if Hunter was even around, but it was the only decent option he had left.

  The cell phone was stashed in the cup holder. Thankfully, Dad had programmed Hunter's cell number in the phone.

  I hope he's not gone, too, Jahlil thought, pressing the button to dial the number. It seemed like everyone else was.

  For once, Jahlil had a stroke of good luck. David Hunter answered on the first ring.

  Darkness rendered the grocery store-a place where Nia had shopped frequently over at least the past ten years-as unfamiliar and mysterious as a moon cavern. Her miniature flashlight did little to alleviate the feeling that she had wandered into a strange new realm.

  She had crossed the storage room without incident and entered the main floor of the market.

  She was at the back of the shopping area. On her left, there were six dark aisles; on her right, the produce area, the open-air coolers filled with cantaloupes, lettuce, watermelons, oranges, bananas, tomatoes, and other items.

  The store was crypt-silent.

  She edged to the first aisle. Swept the flashlight beam across it. Nothing but shelves packed with cereals, pasta, grits, rice, and more-she knew the contents of the shelves like she knew the inside of a cupboard at her own house.

  She moved forward, to the next aisle. No one there, either.

  At the end of the third grocery aisle, she spotted King. He was at the end of the row, positioned behind a revolving rack full of packets of Kool-Aid. The dog appeared to be hiding from someone.

  When her flashlight beam touched King's flank, he looked back at her, big brown eyes shining. But the dog did not move. He turned back to whatever had captured his attention.

  What was he doing up there? She had never seen a dog behave so oddly.

  But the dog's obvious alertness to danger nearby had made a ball of ice form in her stomach. The iciness spread from her stomach and throughout her limbs, until her entire body was chilled.

  She lowered the flashlight. Clutching the revolver, she lightly tread across the aisle, stopping just behind King.

  She rested her hand on his furry back. His muscles were bunched up.

  "What's wrong, boy?" she whispered. "What's bothering you?"

  King peered through the rack, and whined. He licked her fingers. His tongue was like sandpaper.

  She peeked between the bars of the rack. It gave her a peephole view of the meat department, which occupied the whole wall on the east side of the store. She didn't see anything of concern. But it was dark and nearly impossible to make out any details.

  She inched around the rack. She flicked on the flashlight.

  Mr. Morgan walked through the passageway at the end of the meat counter.

  She gasped.

  This time, Morgan did not have a knife. He had a handgun. It was much bigger than hers, too.

  Behind Nia, King growled.

  "That mutt's got a nose like a bloodhound," Morgan said. "Followed me all the way in here, just like I've been following you, Miss James."

  Her hand trembling, she shone the light beam at him. He was not a vampire. He was still human. But he was out of his mind and relentless, and that was as bad as him being a bloodsucking monster.

  ,.There's some weird shit going on in this little hick town," Morgan said. "But I don't care about that. Nothing's going to stop me from having you. We're meant to be together. Stop resisting and give yourself to me"

  "Never." She raised the gun.

  He raised his revolver, too. He aimed at her head.

  It was like looking into the tube of a cannon. She swallowed dryly. But she did not lower her gun.

  "Drop it, Miss James," he said. "You don't have the nerve to shoot me. You proved that earlier."

  Nia felt King tensed behind her, like a coiled cobra.

  She decided to take a big risk.

  "Okay." She blew out a breath, and dropped the gun on the floor, and the flashlight, too. "You win."

  "I knew you didn't have it in you, bitch," Morgan said. He laughed. "Get your fine ass over here. I'm gonna take you behind the counter so we can get properly reacquainted."

  Bowing her head, as if defeated, she shuffled forward.

  She counted on Morgan relaxing his grip on the gun, and she counted on the darkness coming to her aid.

  Most of all, she counted on King.

  When she had taken about three hesitant steps, she suddenly dashed to the right, into another aisle.

  "You bitch!" Morgan yelled.

  He swung the gun around, trying to regain his aim on her, but in the near-blackness, it would be difficult for him to see.

  Then King roared.

  "Get him, boy, tear his heart out!" Nia urged.

  The dog tackled Morgan. Together, they hit the floor. Morgan's gun spun out of his grasp.

  "Get off me, you fuckin' mutt, get off me!"

  King was on top of the man, snapping and biting. Then the dog yelped in pain, and scrambled away.
/>   Morgan bellowed triumphantly. A blood-smeared switchblade glinted in his hand.

  Oh, no.

  King staggered into the wall. The dog's legs gave way, and he settled heavily against the floor, tongue lolling.

  As Morgan got back to his feet, smiling maniacally, Nia charged him.

  "Back, bitch." Morgan swiped at her with the blade, making her stop in her tracks to avoid being cut. "Don't make me carve up that pretty face of yours"

  Nia drew herself into a fighting stance. Her gun was on the floor, out of easy reach. She had only her bare hands to defend herself.

  But she had trained for a moment like this. She clenched her hands into fists.

  Morgan circled her, like a swordfighter.

  "You're all mine," he whispered. "The more you fight me, the more I love you. Keep fighting me, baby, it's gonna make fucking you that much sweeter."

  This man was sick. Insane. But she did not lose her cool. As she'd been taught, she skipped backward, light on her feet, as if she were a fencer. She rolled her hands in a dogdigging motion, to distract him and protect her vital areas.

  He feinted a thrust. She hopped back, then fired a sharp kick into his shin.

  "Dammit!" His face contorted in agony. He gritted his teeth. Then he swiped at her, wildly.

  She ducked out of the knife's looping path, and blasted his shin again, in the same tender spot.

  He wailed, his leg crumbling under him.

  Nia was about to wade in, to knock him out with a blow to the head. But he lunged at her, and this time, she moved too slowly. The blade sliced across her arm.

  Crying out, she fell, her arm burning as if doused with gasoline and set aflame.

  With only one good leg, Morgan crawled after her.

  She whimpered. Holding her arm, blood seeping between her fingers, she scooted backward across the floor.

  "I'm gonna fuck you till you bleed, just like you're bleeding now," he said. "Gonna take my time and give you the sweet love you've been missing."

  She could not imagine the horror of allowing Morgan to have his way with her. She'd rather die before that happened.

  He crawled forward. Saliva foamed from his lips. The switchblade was drenched in gore.

  My gun has to be around here, somewhere.

  She glanced over her shoulder. The .32 lay near the flashlight, which speared the darkness with a pale yellow beam.

  Biting her tongue against the pain in her wounded arm, she scrambled like a crab after the weapon. Got it, gripped it tight.

  "For the last time, you won't shoot me, bitch," Morgan said, mockingly. "You're too weak"

  Nia took aim.

  Twice, she had declined to shoot this man. But as far as she was concerned, he was hardly a man anymore, and circumstances had pushed her way over the line and made her capable of doing anything to protect herself. There was only one way out of this, and it was not the sadistic rape and torture that Morgan suggested.

  "Put it down!" Morgan commanded.

  "It's over," Nia said. "Finally."

  She squeezed the trigger.

  The bullet drilled him between the eyes. His head lolled to the side, and his mouth gaped in a silent howl. He fell backward and struck the floor like a lead weight.

  She released a sigh that came from the depths of her soul.

  Colin Morgan was finally dead.

  She threw away the gun. A choked sob burst out of her. She forced herself to hold back her tears, though doing so made her chest swell painfully.

  She went to the dog. Lying against the wall, legs drawn under him, King had watched everything. Blood dampened his breast.

  "Oh you sweet, poor thing." She gently brushed the dog's head. King feebly licked her hand. "We're going to take care of you, understand? You're going to be okay."

  She got her cell phone out of her fanny pack and called David.

  With Jahlil trailing him in the patrol car, David screeched to a stop in front of Mac's Meat and Foods.

  I never should have let Nia go off on her own, he thought. When she called him on her cell phone and told him what had happened, such anxiety had struck him that his stomach ached. He could have lost her. She had come within a thread's width of death.

  While Jahlil waited in the car with his father, David got out and banged against the store's front entrance. Nia pushed open the door.

  "You got here fast," she said.

  Her hair was disheveled. Dried blood spattered her face, and she had wrapped a thick bandage around her left arm.

  He had never been so glad to see anyone. He pulled her into his arms. She squeezed him, digging her fingers into his back.

  "God, I'm so glad you're okay," he said, his face buried in her hair. "How're you feeling?"

  "Awful, but glad I'm alive. I found King. He saved my life, David."

  They went inside. King lay against the wall. The dog raised his head when David came near, and his tail swished back and forth.

  "You crazy mutt," David said. He blinked away a tear and rested his hand on King's back. "Look what you went and got us into, trying to be superdog. We're gonna get you all patched up, boy. You'll be all right."

  King licked his fingers.

  Nia knelt beside them. "I moved Morgan's body. I dragged it into the meat freezer, behind the counter." She shook her head, sighed. "I killed a man, David."

  "It was in self-defense. You had no choice."

  Her face was haunted. "I know, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I feel sick, really sick. I wish I hadn't done it ... but you're right, I didn't have any choice."

  "I'm sorry, Nia."

  "Mac is going to go nuts when he sees what happened in here," she said.

  "He won't be around to complain. Mac is gone"

  "Gone? You mean ... dead?"

  He nodded slowly. "Jahlil told me. Kyle and his army of vampires ... they were too much for them. The patrol teams are gone. Everyone either was overwhelmed in the fight, or said to hell with it and ran away to save themselves. We're on our own"

  "Me, you, Jackson, and his son," she said.

  "Yeah. But Jackson can't help us. He's in the car with his son. He was stabbed-not bitten-and lost a lot of blood. I want to get him to Pearl's, but I'm afraid she won't be able to do much for him."

  "She's worked miracles before, so people say."

  "Then I sure hope she can work another one," he said. "But we're going to need more than one miracle to get through this alive, Nia. We're going to need a night full of them"

  A golden glow radiated from the windows of Pearl's home, like a lighthouse on a night-veiled sea.

  Pearl answered the door before David could knock.

  "Thank you so much for letting us come here," David said. "We hate to impose on you like this."

  "Nonsense. It's my duty to help," Pearl said. "Come on, I'll help you bring your dog and Chief Jackson inside."

  David and Jahlil carried Jackson, who was still unconscious, into the guest bedroom; Nia and Pearl took King to a cleared-out space in the living room.

  Candles throughout the house provided warm light. Although Pearl lived on the outskirts of town, she too had lost electrical power due to the storm.

  Pearl attended to Jackson, while David worked on King.

  Because David had taken a first aid class for dog owners a couple of years ago, and had treated King for minor injuries in the past, he competently administered care to the dog. Fortunately, he had the foresight to always keep a canine first aid kit in the truck, too. He gave King a small dose of Benadryl, to help him relax. Then he used scissors to trim the fur around the knife wound. The blood had clotted, a good sign, and the cut did not appear deep or to have touched a major organ. David cleaned the wound, using a mild soap and warm water, then he applied a Telfa Pad, which he'd coated with Neosporin. He added two more layers of bandaging, securing the final layer with tape.

  "There, all better now, Mr. King," David said.

  King blinked sleepily. The Benadryl
would keep him drowsy for a while.

  David went to check on Jackson.

  In the bedroom, Pearl sat at Jackson's bedside, and Nia and Jahlil sat on chairs that surrounded the bed. David knelt beside Nia.

  "What do you think, Pearl?" David said.

  "He is in shock," she said, "due to having lost a tremendous amount of blood. I cleaned and redressed his wound. However, to have the best opportunity to recover, he needs a transfusion."

  "A blood transfusion?" David asked. "We'd have to take him to the hospital for that, and you know-"

  "-the hospital has been overrun with vampires, and the blood supply doubtless raided," Pearl said. "I understand that the circumstances are not in our favor, David. I will do the best I can"

  "What if we take him to another hospital?" Nia said. "There's one in Hernando. It's only a fifteen minute drive."

  "We can't leave town " Jahlil shook his head. "I tried. The bridge is torn up, and I bet the other roads out of here are blocked, too. They've thought of everything, man." He sniffled, wiped his nose angrily with his blood-stained shirt. "My dad ... he's not gonna make it, is he?"

  "I have witnessed many miracles in my life, child," Pearl said. She held Jahlil's hands. "Please, keep hope"

  Pearl resumed her healing treatment, which she called Reiki. Her eyes closed, her face serene yet concentrated, she slowly moved her hands across Jackson's body, keeping her palms balanced above his skin. Reiki, she said, was simply a method of channeling and directing life force energy. In the absence of high-tech medical equipment and a staff of doctors, it was the most powerful technique at her disposal. As David watched, he thought about the irony of Jackson's condition. He needed a blood transfusion in the midst of a vampire attack, for God's sake. If they merely took Jackson into the fray of battle, he was sure the vampires would be willing to share a little blood.

  Not funny, he thought.

  Rain rapped against the windows; the storm clouds had finally begun to shed their burdens. Occasionally a strong wind buffeted the house, like a punch thrown by a furious spirit.

  How long would it be before the vampires located them? Surely, they were searching. The fiends would not rest until they had found them.