The Demon Inside, page 32
Instantly she pulled it back in surprise, her features creasing with concern as she exclaimed, "You're burning up." Shoving to her feet, solutions raced through her head. She needed a cold flannel and she was sure she'd seen a bottle of calpol in one of the kitchen's top cupboards. Would calpol work on a grown man? On autopilot, she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly as she went to leave, only to have his hand close like a vice around her wrist, pulling her back. Hissing in a breath as his fingers dug in painfully, her gaze swung downwards to meet his. She should have been used to it by then, the vicious shock, which hit her with the force of a sledgehammer to the gut, every time she saw those eyes looking out of the face she loved. Frozen, she could only stare down at him.
However, when he did nothing but look up at her with those eerie eyes, she summoning her courage and said softly, "Alec, baby, this isn't you. You can beat this I know you can..." Swallowing the lump in her throat, she added imploringly, "I'm not ready to lose you yet." The fingers around her wrist slackened ever so slightly, but his dead white eyes didn't even flicker. His lips parted.
"Run," he spat the word. Darcy didn't need telling twice; even though she had been prepared to die alongside him, now that the time had come self-preservation kicked in. Spinning on her heel, yanking away from his loosened grip, she dashed from the room, slamming the door behind her and sprinting down the hall.
A second later she heard him on her heels, slamming into the wall in his haste as he burst through the bedroom door with a blood curdling roar. Heading for the bathroom, the only room with a lock, she skidded on the tile floor, scrambling to close and lock the door behind her, but her trip cost her precious moments. Ramming his shoulder into the door before she had chance to slide the lock into place, he sent her flying backwards. Charging into the room, he lunged at her, but she kicked out instinctively and her heel met soft skin, sending him stumbling back into the splintered mess which was the door.
Recovering himself quickly, he stood back, tilting his head as if he was now considering her an equal opponent instead of easy prey. Darcy shivered, she didn't feel like any kind of opponent; she felt terrified and sick to her stomach, like a child unsure what her next move should be. However, in the next instant, instinct decided for her. Prowling forward, he suddenly lunged at her. Flinging herself backwards in shock, her back hit the corner of the shower. Twisting, she slid open the door with a trundle of wheels, jumped inside and shut it behind her. Coming up against the transparent barrier, he tried to go through it, only to bounce off. Stepping back, he cocked his head, baring his teeth angrily, before trying again and getting the same result.
The last couple times he had changed there had still been some semblance of human intelligence lingering behind the whites of his eyes, as if the creature could draw upon Alec's knowledge because he was still trapped inside with it, but now that was mostly gone and that was what scared her, the fact that Alec appeared to be slipping away. She knew Alec would never hurt her, but this wasn't Alec. Giving up, he backed away and she had a brief moment of hope before her eyes widened and she cringed back against the cold tile wall. Running towards her, large and unstoppable, he barrelled into the door with enough force to make both glass panels quake and rattle in their frames. Another charge and a hairline crack appeared. She held her breath; she should have stood and fought, accepted her fate, but she hadn't and now she was trapped and she had a feeling things would be all the worse for it. The third time he hit the crack expanded, spider webbing. On the forth it shattered. Darcy screamed, throwing her arms up to protect her face. Glass sprayed over her, cutting and stinging, drawing blood. Crashing into her, Alec's body slammed her back against the wall, knocking the breath right out of her lungs and leaving her gasping, floundering like a fish out of water.
In the split second of confusion that ensued, Darcy somehow managed to scramble out from under him, escaping from the broken cubicle. Daggers of glass cut into the soles of her bare feet, but the crippling fear racing through her made her oblivious. A heavy weight knocked her to the floor. Thrusting her hands forward to break her fall, she heard her wrist snap as searing pain shot up her entire arm. Her cry of pain seemed to make him hesitate and a second later his weight left her. Twisting around, she saw Alec backing away, his hazel eyes stricken as he took in the damage he'd done.
"Darcy..." He whispered, gaze sweeping over her body, lingering upon the tiny cuts decorating her legs and the way she cradled her injured arm protectively against her chest. "Jesus," the word left him in a whoosh of air, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."
Nodding weakly, she swallowed, whispering back, "It's okay." But it wasn't and he saw that, he saw the fear in her eyes, not of him, but fear of the unpredictable being inside of him. Attempting to stand, to go to him despite her fear, she slid on the glass sprinkling the tiled floor. Once more she made the fatal error of putting out a hand to break her fall. A large shard of glass sliced across her palm, cutting deep. For a moment, looking down at it, she thought that it looked like someone had drawn a neat red line on her skin in thick felt-tip, until blood started to ooze out in earnest, dripping down her hand and splashing onto the floor.
Instantly, Alec's body went stiff, his head tilting as if sniffing the air, even as he tried to blink back the darkness, his jaw tightening as he fought to resist, fists clenching. But in the end it was inevitable.
Despite his valiant effort, the change overcame him, his eyes flashing a bright, hungry white. However, Alec's brief appearance had given her hope that he wasn't entirely lost, yet a voice inside of her whispered that she had to put an end to this before someone else got hurt; it was okay while she was the only one in the firing line, but one day someone else would come around, her sister maybe, or god forbid one of the children, and they would get hurt, maybe killed. She didn't think she could live with that on her conscience and she already knew Alec couldn't. And so, with a heavy heart, she curled her blood slick fingers around the shard of glass that had cut her as he lowered into a crouch, preparing to pounce. Tears pricked the back of her eyes, but she refused to cry, because once she let that first tear fall the dam would break and she refused to breakdown yet, not until he was free.
Tensing in preparation for impact, she squeezed her eyes shut as he sprung, tackling her backwards with a snarl which bared his teeth in a victorious smile, crushing her broken wrist between them. His fingers dug into her shoulders as he rose above her, keeping her pinned to the floor. As if in slow motion her arm rose, pressing the point of the glass against his chest, right over his heart. However, she couldn't resist giving him another chance.
"Alec, come back to me," her voice was a husky whisper. "You love me, remember? You don't want to hurt me." His hand shot out to collar her throat, squeezing until she was gasping, grabbing at his wrist, scrabbling desperately at his arm, drawing lines of blood with her nails, weapon forgotten in her panic.
"Alec's not here anymore!" He roared the words – the voice was Alec's but at the same time it was not; it was raspy and monstrous, like nails down a chalkboard, an offence to the ears. But it wasn't the voice which struck fear into her heart, it was the words themselves.
Alec's not here anymore. Alec's not here anymore. Alec's not here anymore.
Those words rung in her ears, echoing round her head. The glass dug into his skin deep enough to cut, but still she couldn't bring herself to actually do it, not even when her life hung in the balance. Choking, vision blurring, fingertips going numb, she saw her life flash before her eyes.
Remembering when they first met, she felt a tear trickle from the corner of one eye, as if squeezed out by the pressure in her skull. That night he had rescued her at the party, she just wished she could have saved him, but in her heart she knew it was too late now. With trembling fingers, she felt her way down his arm, following the straining tendons in his hand to his little finger. Grabbing hold, Darcy wrenched it back in a move he himself had taught her. With a yell, he jerked away and she took the opportunity to drag in a reviving lungful of air.
"Alec," she gasped, part of her still hoping the repetition of his name would bring him back to her, "Alec, this is not who you are. Please, listen to me... Please." Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Having given her a brief reprieve, both of his hands came back around her neck, squeezing impossibly harder than before, his fingers digging in as if he planned to simply rip out her throat. Maybe he would have but the faint sound of knocking from downstairs distracted him. The tilting of his head alerted her to the noise and she took a moment to listen, too.
"Darcy," Hope called, knocking again, "come and let me in. I know you're there." The stillness which overcame him preceded a hunt, she knew that much about dangerous predators. In turn, her panic was pushed to the back of her mind by cool, emotionless logic. His weight lifted from her. The dagger of glass struck. However, her aim was thrown by the fact that he attempted to leap over her, towards the door, in the same moment and instead of his heart the shard stabbed deep into his stomach. Instantly the wound gushed blood, but it wasn't fatal. Roaring, he wrenched the piece of glass free, making it bleed even more. His hand slashed downwards.
Darcy blinked up at him. Her hand rose disbelieving to her throat, as if in slow motion. Numbly, her fingers traced the red collar he'd given her. Even as she struggled to breath, her mind couldn't comprehend what had just happened. She was choking on her own blood, when she coughed it sprayed from her mouth; a faint mist at first, it soon turned into a steady stream, trickling from the corners of her mouth. Suddenly, she felt very cold as if a blanket of ice had been draped over her. The edges of her vision blurred. She blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear it; she wanted to keep Alec in her sights as long as possible.
He was back now. He had returned to hold her while she lay dying. Eyes wide, as unbelieving as hers had been, he looked at her in horror, before dropping his gaze to the murderous tool in his hand, stained with both of their blood. Letting the shard of glass clatter to the floor, his hands shot to her throat. Instinctively she flinched and the responding look on his face had tears trickling down her face, but his hands were gentle as he tried to stem the blood. Jerking back, he whipped his shirt off over his head, balling it up to press against her wound. Within seconds it was soaked through.
Lifting a trembling hand, she brushed her fingertips lightly over the back of his before letting it fall heavily back to her side, drawing his frantic gaze to hers. Immediately, the desperation bled from his face, leaving only calm acceptance. Holding her gaze, he said something, but she couldn't hear it. A gentle haze had settled over the entire world, like fog obscuring everything. However, she understood plainly enough when he raised the glass to his own throat, the point digging in to produce a bead of scarlet liquid which swelled before sliding smoothly down his neck. She swore she could hear his heart beating faster, even as hers slowed, struggling to continue without oxygen. His hand trembled, but the gaze which locked with hers was resolute. Reaching out, he took her hand in his, lifting it when it was too heavy for her to do so, and twined their fingers together in a final show of solidarity. Then his lips formed two words, "I'm sorry", and the glass slashed fast across his jugular. Warm blood splashed over her, mingling with her own, but she had already blacked out. In her last moments, she felt Alec collapse beside her, his weight a small comfort as everything else slipped away from her, like water trickling through her fingers.
"I love you." The words reverberated inside her head, but her confused mind couldn't decide if he'd said them or if they were her own thoughts. Still, she tried to return the message, but her lips wouldn't move and no words appeared, so she simply used the last of her strength to squeeze his fingertips. He'd know what she meant. And then she let the darkness take her.
That was how Mac found them several hours later when he returned as promised. He found them lying on ruby tiles, with their hands entwined, wearing matching stripes and a smile.
Epilogue
Five Years Later
Standing on the front step, Hope angled her face towards the warm summer sun and felt the gentle breeze run its fingers through her hair. Lucy leant against her leg and she dropped a hand onto her head, fondling her silky ears and scratching her greying muzzle. Days like these put her in a mood to reminisce; though her sister was never far from her mind things had moved on in the past few years.
Things had been hard at first, of course, both emotionally and in a practical sense, since they had lost several of their greatest assets in one fell swoop and the whole community had felt it. However, the loss had made them pull together, because they had all realised that they must to survive – Kate was still about as approachable as a grizzly bear, but Hope thought that was probably just part of her personality nowadays. Just as Mac had predicted the creatures, driven by starvation, had left the cities and towns and headed further out into the countryside in search of food. It had been hairy for a while. After Alec's attack in plain daylight everyone knew that even the midday sun couldn't ensure their safety and for a while very few people had even ventured out of their front door, but over the years the creatures began to die off from starvation and things slowly got better. That wasn't to say there was no longer any danger; there were still creatures who managed to cling tenaciously to life – much as humankind had – but their decline in number meant that the humans had a chance to get back on their feet and began to thrive once more.
In fact, their little community had almost doubled in the last five years as more and more uninfected people could be found on the roads, travelling in search of other survivors. One man had come all the way down from the highlands of Scotland, where a whole village had taken refuge in an old, medieval castle, putting its thick walls, watch towers and prime location atop a hill into good use for the first time in thousands of years. They had also learnt of other communities around the country and of one in France, just outside of Paris, which made them hope that the rest of Europe, and indeed the world, had similar groups of survivors. Another man who had turned up at their gates, and who now resided in one of the nearby houses, had lost his entire family to the creatures’ possession, not an unusual tale except that one of his three daughters had been given back. Remarkably, finding the five year olds body too weak and fragile the creature had left her for a more compatible host days after possession, leaving the child completely unharmed, though emotionally scarred. The same man, in thanks for giving him and his daughter a place to stay, had used his past experience in the field to install solar panels on all the houses, which had made things infinitively easier, because though they could survive without electricity, the truth was that they were all products of the twenty-first century and they preferred the ease of being able to flick a switch and instantly light a room, or boil a kettle.
For all its new additions, the community had only suffered one loss since Darcy and Alec. Mr Johnson had died of simple old age, peacefully, in his sleep. It was the kind of death everyone wished for, she thought vaguely, the kind of death most people deserved.
"Hope, Hope!" The little voice drew her from her thoughts and she shook off her melancholy and smiled down at the girl seeking her attention. Elise had come out of her shell a lot over the years, she had also shot up and was now almost as tall as Hope. "What are we learning today? Can we do more on the Vikings?" It was strange how dreams came about. When Hope had first dreamt about becoming a teacher, she never would have guessed she would be doing it in this capacity; how could she have predicted such an impossible turn of events? However, here she was, a teacher to over half a dozen children between the ages of five and fifteen – the eldest being a sullen teenager who had somehow survived on his own since his parents were killed in the first few days of the invasion. A small school house had been built and equipped with a whiteboard, desk and chairs, the walls plastered with educational and inspirational posters, her favourite of which was the kitten hanging on the washing line with the caption saying 'Hang in there.'
"No, today's a maths day," she explained to her eager student, beginning the short walk towards the school house, which was located in her and Rory's back garden, "so Rebecca's coming in to teach you." Since it turned out that Rebecca was the only person willing to teach who could actually count without using her fingers, a skill that Hope unfortunately lacked – they had asked Mac and David, but both had refused. David had grown more and more distant since his eldest daughter’s death and now lived separately to his remaining family and drank himself to sleep most nights. Mac's only excuse was that he didn't want to teach 'a bunch of snot-nosed brats'. However, despite his aversion to most children, he doted on his twin granddaughters. Though he had been reluctant at first, Hope was now glad that she had insisted he step in as Grandfather to her children because he was amazing with them and Alexis and DeeDee, as Rory had nicknamed baby Darcy, loved him to bits. In fact, he was now at home with Rory, helping to babysit. Smiling at the thought of the two men racing around the house, attempting to ride herd on a pair of mischievous toddlers who had just learnt to walk, Hope paused in front of the school house, waving Elise in ahead of her, and looked up at the clear blue sky, devoid of clouds.
Things were going well for them... she only wished Darcy and Alec could have lived to see it. They probably would have had a family by now, a few young children with his gorgeous hazel eyes and her blonde hair, and they would have been happy. But Hope could understand the choices that they had both made, even though it hurt that she hadn't gotten a chance to say goodbye; she knew how it felt to love someone so much that it had the power to destroy you, because you would do anything for them, you would die for them because the mere thought of life without them was unbearable. Hope felt that way about her daughters. Sighing, forcing back the sadness which always overcame her when thinking about what could have been, she stepped into the classroom, her eyes roaming over the bright little faces waiting for her. Mood lightening, Hope smiled at them, a genuine, happy smile.
