Chapter 30

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Chapter 30

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‘Detention’ consisted of dragging all of the gym equipment out of the moldy supply closet and cleaning them off with a wash rag and a bottle of disinfectant.

“I want it all spotless,” Carl, the assistance coach explained, dropping a sack of volleyballs at her feet.

He glanced over the piles of balls, nets and gear—and then up at her—with a dark expression she didn’t like.

“You can leave when you’re finished,” he added gruffly.   “Though don’t expect that to be anytime soon—there’s still the field hockey equipment out in the shed.”

Deliberately, he pulled a silver key from around his neck and dangled it in the air between them.

Miriam didn’t know why…but her throat lurched as she reached out, placing the slender object on the middle of her palm.

“Alright,” she said, biting back a sigh.

Coach Carl looked as though he wanted to say something else.  Those dark eyes jabbed into hers, almost suspiciously as if he was waiting for her to do or say something.

When she didn’t, he merely let the key drop into her hand with a cold frown.

“Don’t leave until every bit of gear is spick and span,” he reinforced gruffly.  “If not, it’s another detention; and trust me, you don’t want to know what that has in store.”

Miriam shifted uneasily on her feet, closing her fingers around the key.  “I understand.”

He still didn’t look satisfied—almost disappointed instead.

Like he wanted her to argue; give him another reason to punish her.

But without another word he turned on his heel and marched from the gym on a cloud of annoyance.

Well, Miriam thought on a sigh as she glanced around the empty gym.  At least I don’t have to spend most of the night alone again…

In my room, she added as a sweeping janitor passed by the gym entrance, not sparing her any attention.

Not that the partially deserted school building was any better.  She was just as alone here as anywhere else—but at least it was a different set of four walls surrounding her as she mulled over the latest thought dominating her mind.

For the first time, in maybe years, she was worried about something other than the threat of a seizure.  Maybe for the first time since her mother…

“I’m pathetic,” she scolded herself, shaking her head.

In an effort to distract her mind, she reached for the sack of volley balls and got to work wiping them down with the moldy wash-rag.

It didn’t help.

Not one damn bit.

The milky white surface reminded her all too well of the exact color of someone’s skin.  A certain someone who seemed to be…ignoring her, for lack of a better word.

“You don’t know that,” she countered out loud, swiping at a smudge absently with the rag.

Eliot, quite obviously, had a life; one that she wasn’t a part of.  Hell, to be fair he had only really known her for a few days.

After all, just how well could you truly get to know someone by stalking them?

But still…

She couldn’t resist the urge to reach up, cupping her palm around her mouth, and sniff her breath.

Did she smell?

Was that why he hadn’t so much as looked to her since their kiss?

But her breath smelled the way as it always did—like toothpaste and mint gum.  Besides, her scent hadn’t seemed to bother him the other day...when they’d been so close she could feel that cool breath tickling her chin.

Maybe…

Impulsively, she grabbed a handful of hair and dragged it over to her nose—but that didn’t smell either.  Or, at least, it smelled the same way it always did; like her rose scented shampoo.

With a halfhearted sigh, she reached down to pinch at the sweater hanging loosely from her frame; maybe he had just taken a second glance at her and didn’t like what he’d seen?

She wasn’t modelesque by far. A girl as beautiful as Sidney might have been more his speed.

But, Eliot didn’t seem that shallow—there had to be another reason.  Something else.  She could sense it—taste it.   A darker reason was behind this whole silent treatment.

Maybe he’s just bored with you, a cruel voice hissed from the back of her mind.  After all, what could a vampire possibly want with a human?

Not just any human either, but a silly, damaged, broken little girl?

Grimly, she set the now-clean volleyball aside and reached for another, scrubbing at it so hard that her fingers felt raw.

But then, she only reached for another.

And another.

And another.

Until the monotony finally drowned out the voices in her mind.

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The dull task kept her mind busy.  Sure, it got tedious after a while—but at least the concentration on cleaning didn’t leave much room to focus on anything else.

It was only when she reached down for another tennis racket to wipe down that she  realized they were all clean; she had gone through the entire pile of equipment.

Not only that, but the gym was nearly dark.

Without her even noticing, someone had turned off most of the lights, leaving her little corner of the spacious room the only part with light.

Thankfully it was also the section closest to the door.  Shoving the equipment back into the storage closet, she tried to ignore the shivers that ran through her mind at the thought of being in the building alone.

Though, if she hurried, she might have been able to make it hope because it was fully dark.

She stooped, reaching for her backpack before she remembered Carl’s last instructions.

The hockey equipment, out in the shed.

Glancing over at the window she saw that it was nearly nightfall—a quick check of her watch confirmed it.

It was nearly 6 o’ clock.

She had spent nearly three hours whipping off equipment, and hadn’t even noticed the light outside turn a cloudy shade of semi-darkness.

It was a good thing that her father rarely came home these days or he might have even wondered where she was.

Her uncle on the other hand would have pitched a fit it he knew she was still in the school building by herself…

Which seemed to be a highly likely scenario given the fact that the gym offices were dark, Carl was nowhere to be found and even the janitor seemed gone for the night.

She was alone.  Forgotten.

And, she really didn’t want to go trudging out through the field to the sports equipment shed.  Biting her lip, she fished Carl’s key from her pocket and almost considered the consequences of just leaving it off until the morning.

Was another detention really worth it…?

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like you?  A part of her coldly piped up.  Maybe…in the end, he could sense that you’re nothing but a stupid, whiny idiot...

Not worth the time.

Her fingers clenched over the key.  She reached for the rage of bottle and cleaner without thinking.  The next thing she knew, she was slipping through the emergency exit of the gym, making sure to switch the light off behind her.

Outside of the school was no better than inside.

The fields behind the building were deserted.

It was too cold for any outdoor sports, and the few clubs had probably wrapped up hours ago.

Out, among the looming trees the lined the edge of the forest and a lonely stretch of empty parking lot, she felt even more alone.

Like a ghost wandering an empty landscape.

More empty than ever.

Relax, she scolded herself, gripping the key tighter so that her fingers stopped shaking.  Just go in, clean the equipment and you’re done.

She spotted the shed easily enough.  It was over by the football field, through a muddy trudge of freezing earth.

Getting there was easier said than done however, as she juggled the cleaning supplies in one hand and held onto the strap of her backpack with the other.

The field lights were still lit, guiding her way through the dark blue shadows covering everything like long strokes of morbid paint.

She reached the shed in minutes and easily managed to get the door open.

It was cramped inside, amid a sea of used nets and boxes of gear, but there was a light switch that filled the small space in bright light.

This isn’t so bad, she thought wrestling the door behind her.

There wasn’t a whole lot of equipment either.

She figured that she could have been finished in ten minutes tops if she worked fast enough.

Tossing her backpack in a corner, she dragged a small stool over to the supply closet of gear and set to work.  She was barely two hockey sticks in before she heard the first thump.

It was soft—quiet.  Almost as if something heavy had fallen outside, just near the door. Something heavy enough to make the doorframe tremble with the force of its fall.

Miriam tensed, and slowly, she set down the bottle of cleaner.   Both of her hands shakily gripped the handle the hockey stick.

You’re overreacting, she tried to tell herself.  It’s probably just the wind…

But the wind didn’t sound like that—footsteps.  She could hear them now.  Slow and steady they advanced around the perimeter of the shed.

Carefully—like a wild animal circling the den of its prey, trying it’s hardest not to spook it, before it was too late.

Thump, thud, thump.

She stood, her foot knocking over the bottle of cleaner so that it skidded around the floor to slam into the storage chest.

Clunk!

The footsteps stopped.

She waited, ears straining for any other sound.  But the only one that filled them was the frantic pounding of her own heartbeat.

It was probably just a stick or something that caught on the breeze, she reasoned.

After a while, she managed to allow some air back into her lungs.  Still standing, she bent to reach for the bottle of cleaner and dragged it closer.  Her fingers shook as she dripped some solution onto the rag and dragged along the edge of another hockey stick.

THUD!

The hockey stick slipped through her fingers to fall to the floor—but in the next instant, she had it back in her grip, fingers shaking as she hefted it like a baseball bat.

The newer sound was way too solid to have been made by the wind.

Only a body was that heavy.  A moving, creeping…walking body.

Her heart lurched to her throat, stomaching twisting into knots as she eyed the shed door, waiting…

Maybe Coach Carl hadn’t left after all?  If only to make sure that she didn’t disobey him by leaving before fulfilling the entire detention.

Yeah right.

As another quite thump sounded from beyond the doorway, she realized that Carl would have made his presence known.  Here certainly wouldn’t be lurking around, trying his hardest not to make a sudden sound.

Thump, thump…bump!

The sounds slowed just beyond the side of the shed.  Where, glancing up, she could see a small window peering out in the same direction.

Carefully, she tip-toed over to it, keeping the hockey stick firmly in her hands.

The window was high up—and she wasn’t exactly tall to begin with.  In the end she had to set the hockey stick down and stand on the tips of her toes, fingers clenching the ledge, just to see out of the frosted glass.

She couldn’t see much of anything…at first.  Just endless darkness from beyond a horizon of swaying trees.

Fingers shaking, she strained her neck higher.

The indigo fields seemed empty of anything but half-melted snow and darkness.

She sighed with relief....and finally caught sight of the yellow eyes staring into her own.

They seemed to have come from nowhere.  Large, glowing and inherently deadly.

Then, she heard the growl.

It was slow, like the beginning rumbles of a truck’s engine, building and building in gutteral tones.

Gggrrrrrrrrrr...

She stumbled back, biting back a shriek as her foot caught the edge of her stool, sending her sprawling.

She landed hard on the floor with a thud, biting her lip against making a sound as she crawled into a crouched and reached shakily for the hockey stick. Blood filled her tongue, hot, wet and bitter, but she forced herself to swallow.

Thump, thump, thump!

The sound hammered against her ear drums.  She couldn’t tell if it was the sound of approaching footsteps, or just the mad thud of her heartbeat.

No, she realized once the door handle to the shed jingled.

It was definitely footsteps.

Footsteps belonging to a figure so massive that their shadow blotted out the slit at the bottom of the door in utter blackness.

So massive, she could hear them breathing.  Only the heavy huff and puff sounded more fitting of belonging to an animal than a person.  Some giant, growling...wolf…

Sccccrrrreeeak!

It was a sound that set the tiny hairs at the back of her neck on end--that same, eeirie sound like nails running down a chalkboard.  Or...in this case, the side of the door.

For a terrifying minute, Miriam swore that her heart stopped beating.

Then, all at once…

The darkness faded, allowing the bluish light to shin from beneath the door again.

She held her breath, too anxious to relax.

Were their wolves in Wafter’s Point?

Massive, mutated wolves?

It was almost with a bit of dry laughter that she realized it wouldn’t have been the first new odd resident to call this odd town home.

First a murder, then vampires, and now…

She wasn't sure if she wanted to find out exactly what the strange prowler had been.

Nervously, she pulled herself upright, shoving the hockey stick back into the storage shed with the others.

She had barely managed to clean half of them—but did it matter?

The fear was too much.  Every little sound had her glancing over her shoulder, heart racing.

Maybe, if I explain, she tried to reason, he’ll understand?

Thinking of the way Carl had glanced her over with disgust, she highly doubted it.

But still, who knew what else was lurking around the edges of the field as night fell?

Almost as if to prove her point—at that moment—the door flew open and a tall figure stood blocking the entryway like a specter of shadow.

Her mouth opened, throat tensing for a scream.

But then she only had to catch sight of the startlingly pale skin for it all to go silent.  The only sound her lips could form, was a name instead.

“Eliot...”