Morgan Rice: Fated

Sage frowned; he was so sick of his parents’ disapproval.

“Where are you all going?” Sage demanded.

“Where do you think?” his father retorted. “They’ve convened the Grand Council for the first time in one thousand years.”

Sage looked back, shocked.

“Boldt Castle?” he asked. “You are going to the Thousand Islands?”

His parents scowled back.

“What do you care?” his mother said.

Sage couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The Grand Council hadn’t convened since what felt like the beginning of time, and for all of their kind to gather together in one place, it could not be good.

“But why?” he asked. “Why convene, if we’re all going to die anyway?”

His father stepped forward and smiled as he raised a finger and jabbed it in Sage’s chest.

“We’re not like you,” he growled. “We’re not going down without a fight. Ours will be the greatest army ever known, the first time we’ve all assembled in one place. Mankind will pay. We will take our vengeance.”

“Vengeance for what?” Sage asked. “Mankind has done nothing to you. Why would you hurt innocent people?”

His father smiled back.

“Stupid to the end,” he said. “Why wouldn’t we? What have we left to lose? What are they going to do, kill us?”

His father laughed, and his mother joined him, as the two of them linked arms and walked past him, bumping his shoulders roughly, preparing to take off in flight.

Sage yelled after them: “I remember a time when you were noble,” he said. “But now, you are nothing. You are less than nothing. Is this what desperation does to you?”

They turned and grimaced.

“Your problem, Sage, is that while you are one of us, you have never understood our kind. Destruction is all we’ve ever wanted. It is only you, only you who has been different.”

“You are the child we never understood,” his mother said. “And you’ve never failed to disappoint us.”

Sage felt a pain course through him, felt too weak to respond.

As they turned to leave, Sage, gasping, mustered the strength to yell: “Scarlet! Where is she? Tell me!”

His mother turned and smiled wide.

“Oh, don’t you worry about her,” his mother said. “Lore will find her, and rescue us all. Or he will die trying. And when we live on, don’t you dare think there will be a place for you.”

Sage reddened.

“I hate you!” he yelled. “I hate you both!”

His parents merely turned, smiling, stepped up onto the marble railing, and took off into the sky.

Sage stood there and watched them go, disappearing into the sky, as the remainder of his cousins joined them. He stood there, all alone, before his boarded-up ancestral home, with nothing here left for him. His family hated him – and he hated them back.

Lore. Sage felt a fresh burst of determination as he thought of him. He could not let him find Scarlet. Despite all the pain inside him, he knew he had to muster the strength one last time. He had to find Scarlet.

Or die trying.

Caitlin sat in the passenger seat of their pickup, exhausted, heartbroken, as Caleb drove relentlessly on Route 9, driving up and down as he had been for hours, scouring the streets. Dawn was breaking, and Caitlin looked up through the windshield at the unusual sky. She marveled that it was daybreak already. They had been driving all night, the two of them in front and Sam and Polly in the back seat, keeping their eyes peeled to the side of the road, looking everywhere for Scarlet. Once, they had screeched to a stop, Caitlin thinking she’d seen her – only to realize it was a scarecrow.

Caitlin closed her eyes for a moment, her eyelids feeling so heavy, swollen, and she saw the flashing of cars as she did, headlights passing, an endless flow of traffic as she had seen all night long. She felt like crying.

Caitlin felt so hollow inside, like such a bad mother for not having been there enough for Scarlet – for not having believed in her, for not understanding her, for not being there in her time of need. Somehow, Caitlin felt responsible for all this. And she felt like dying at the thought that she might not ever see her daughter again.

Caitlin started to cry, and she opened her eyes and quickly wiped her tears away. Caleb reached over and grabbed her hand, but she shook it away. Caitlin turned to look out the window, wanting privacy, wanting to be alone – wanting to die. Without her little girl in her life, she realized she had nothing left.

Caitlin felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Sam leaning forward.

“We’ve been driving all night,” he said. “There’s no sign of her anywhere. We’ve covered every inch of Route 9. The cops are out there, too, with far more cars than us. We’re all exhausted, and we’ve no idea where she could be. She might even be home, waiting for us.”

“I agree,” Polly said. “I say we head home. We need some rest.”

Suddenly there came a loud honking, and Caitlin looked up to see a truck coming right at them, as they were on the wrong side of the road.

“CALEB!” Caitlin screamed.

Caleb suddenly swerved out of the way at the last second, back onto his side of the road, missing the honking truck by a foot.

Caitlin stared at him, her heart pounding, and an exhausted Caleb stared back, his eyes bloodshot.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I must’ve dozed off.”

“This isn’t doing anyone any good,” Polly said. “We need rest. We need to go home. We’re all exhausted.”

Caitlin considered, and finally, after a long moment, she nodded.

“All right. Take us home.”

Caitlin sat on her couch as the sun rose, leafing through a photo book with pictures of Scarlet. She was flooded with all the memories rushing back to her, of Scarlet at all different ages. Caitlin rubbed her thumb along them, wishing more than anything in the world that she could have Scarlet here with her now. She would give anything, even her own heart and soul.

Caitlin held up the torn page from the book which she’d taken from the library, the ancient ritual, the one that would save Scarlet if only Caitlin had returned in time, the one that would have cured her from becoming a vampire. Caitlin tore the ancient page into small pieces and threw them to the floor. They landed near Ruth, her large husky, who whined and curled up at Caitlin’s side.

That page, that ritual, which had once meant so much to Caitlin, was useless now. Scarlet had already fed, and no ritual could save her now.

Caleb and Sam and Polly, also in the room, were each lost in their own world, each slumped in a couch or chair, either sleeping or half asleep. They lay there in the heavy silence, all of them waiting for Scarlet to walk in the door – and all suspecting she never would.

Suddenly, the phone rang. Caitlin jumped up and snatched it, her hand shaking. She dropped the receiver several times, finally picking it up and holding it to her ear.

“Hello, hello, hello?” she said. “Scarlet, is that you? Scarlet!?”

“Ma’am, it’s Officer Stinton,” came a male voice.

Caitlin’s heart dropped to realize it wasn’t Scarlet.

“I’m just calling to let you know we have no sign of your daughter yet.”

Caitlin’s hopes were dashed. She gripped the phone, squeezing it, desperate.

“You’re not trying hard enough,” she seethed.

“Ma’am, we’re doing all we can – ”

Caitlin didn’t wait for the rest of his response. She slammed the receiver down, then grabbed the phone, a large landline from the ’80s, ripped the cord out of the wall, picked it up over her head, and smashed it down to the ground.