Kelly Hashway: The Monster Within

That was true. As far as everyone knew, I was six feet under. “So you’re not keeping Ethan?” I couldn’t imagine calling him by any other name.

“Would that bother you?”

“A little.” I knew I was being a baby, wanting him to keep his name, but he was my Ethan. He always would be.

“Okay, I’ll keep Ethan then. We’ll both just change our last names.”

I nodded and gave him a weak smile. Somehow I knew a lot more than our last names was about to change. Samantha Thompson and Ethan Anderson would never be the same; to the rest of the world, we wouldn’t even exist.

It was about a five-hour drive to the cottage, not too bad. In the past, a long drive with Ethan had been heaven, but since I’d come back to life, things seemed different. Maybe Ethan thought I was the same old Sam—minus the cancer—but I wasn’t. I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was wrong. Wrong with me.

It was late, and a light rain dotted the top of the car, lulling me to sleep. You’d think after being dead, I’d feel refreshed. But I didn’t. It seemed so hard to focus on things. The streetlights were bright. The air was damp, and even though it was early fall, I was chilled.

The car stopped, and Ethan’s hand slipped from mine. I turned to him, blinking against the fluorescent lights of the gas station.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just need to get some gas and a few things from the convenience store. There’s no food at the cottage. I thought I’d grab some crackers and soda. Stuff like that. I’ll even see if they have black licorice for you. I know you love it.”

I nodded and started for my seat belt.

“No. You stay.” Ethan opened his door and stepped outside. I let my hair fall across my shoulders, trying to warm myself against the night air. “I’ll be right back.”

The trunk opened, and a moment later, Ethan opened my door, handing me one of his sweatshirts. “Here, you look cold.”

I smiled. “Thanks.” He knew me so well. I watched him walk inside the store and heard the soft click of the car locking again. He wasn’t taking any chances with me. I knew he’d protect me from anything. He’d already protected me from death. He was my everything now. I would never see my family or friends again. I had to start over. The thought terrified me, but at least I had Ethan by my side.

I hugged the sweatshirt to my body. I was too tired to actually put it on, and this way I could breathe in Ethan’s scent while I kept warm. I inhaled deeply at first, and then my breaths became shallow, which was weird considering how tired I felt. I yawned. Exhaustion overwhelmed me. Apparently it took a lot of energy to return from the dead.

I leaned my head on the window, hoping the cool glass would keep me awake, but my head spun, making me dizzy. My arms and legs tingled with the sensation of pins and needles. I felt like I had a million spiders crawling all over me. I threw the sweatshirt off me and onto the floor. My arms were bare. No spiders. But the feeling didn’t go away. I panicked. The walls of the car were caving in on me. The air around me was tight, strangling me.

I searched the convenience store windows for Ethan, but all I saw was a guy in a cowboy hat and a woman taking her little boy to the bathroom. Where was Ethan? The lightheadedness was getting worse—more intense. My breathing was labored. In a panic, I reached for the door handle. It took me a moment to remember it was locked, but when I finally got it open, I stumbled out of the car into the fresh air. I gulped oxygen into my lungs, hoping it would make me feel better, but it didn’t.

I was suffocating. Life was draining out of me. I collapsed to my knees, skinning them against the pavement. Wheezing, I crawled forward, trying to reach the convenience store door. Trying to reach Ethan. I needed help. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but it felt like I was dying…again.

The gas station was almost empty at this hour. No one was pumping gas. No one was around to help me. I lifted my head, searching the windows of the store once more. The man with the cowboy hat was at the register. That meant he’d be leaving soon, and he’d have to walk past me. I pushed myself forward more, but my arms buckled under my weight, and I fell.

“Ethan,” I choked out. This couldn’t happen again. I’d just gotten my life back. How could I die again so soon?

I pushed my foot against the pavement in an effort to creep toward the door, but my black high-heeled shoe fell off, leaving me slumped on the ground with one bare foot. I inhaled, willing my lungs to fill with air, but I only coughed in response. At least the first time I’d died, I’d known it was coming. But now…this was a shock. I didn’t know how to fight it, or if I even could.

The bell above the convenience store door jingled, and I raised my head slightly to see the man in the cowboy hat walking out. He was putting his change into his wallet and didn’t even notice me in the dark parking lot.

“Please.” My voice was barely audible.

He kept walking, removing his car keys from his pocket.

“Help,” I tried again, but he unlocked his car with a high-pitched beep of the alarm disarming.

His foot was inches from me, yet he had no idea I was there. I reached my hand toward his leg and managed to grab hold of it. The second I made contact with him, I felt his blood coursing through the veins in his leg. It tingled beneath my fingers with a warmth that felt incredible on my freezing cold hand.

He jumped and looked down at me. “You scared the hell out of me! What are you doing down there?”

“Please.” This time my voice was a little stronger. “I need help. I can’t breathe.” I released his leg, and my coughing started all over again.

“Whoa, easy there.” He bent down and studied me for a moment before reaching for my shoulders and sitting me up. “Try to calm down. Are you here alone?” He fumbled for my missing shoe and put it back on my foot.

I tried to shake my head, but I wasn’t sure if it moved at all. I felt like I was drowning. The life was draining out of me again.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s get you to the hospital. I’m going to bring you to my car.”

Before I could protest or try to mention Ethan, the man scooped me into his arms and carried me to his car. I was too weak to fight him, and he was trying to help me, so I wrapped my arms around his neck as best I could. My fingertips grazed his neck, feeling the blood coursing through his veins once again. Instinctively, my other hand reached for his neck, but this time, I traced the line of his carotid artery, letting my fingers follow it down to his chest, where I felt his heart pumping beneath his clothes. Warmth washed over me.

“Don’t panic. I’m going to get you help.” He must have been confused by what I was doing. Hell, I was confused by what I was doing, but somehow, I knew it was helping me. My breathing wasn’t as labored. The dizziness was subsiding.

He opened the rear door and started to lower me onto the back seat, head first. I slipped my fingers through the opening in his button-down flannel shirt and felt the heat of his skin.

“It’s okay,” he reassured me.

My hand was above his heart now, and I flattened my palm against his chest. My right hand remained on his neck, resting on his carotid artery. Suddenly, an intense surge of energy flowed from the man to me. His blood was pumping life into me. My lungs filled, and my chest heaved. I felt more alive than I had when Ethan brought me back. My eyes closed in response to the relief I felt. I wasn’t going to die. Whatever it was that had threatened my life was gone. I was alive again.

A wheezing sound forced my eyes open. But this time, I wasn’t the one wheezing. I stared at the man leaning into the car, hovering above me. He was no longer holding me. My back was resting on the seat. His hands gripped the seats. His face was red, and he gasped for air. He looked down at my hands, and my eyes followed his.