“Sam!” I called breathlessly. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t move. I looked quickly around to see if the faceless figure was close. I scanned the surrounding area but couldn’t see or hear anyone. I gingerly made my way over to Sam and knelt down.
“Sam, wake up!” I pleaded, shaking him.
Nothing.
I rolled him over and he flopped lifelessly onto his back. His eyes were closed and I could see that he had a large gash across his forehead. I shook him again.
“Sam! Please wake up!” I begged.
Then, without warning his eyes opened. He looked up at me and began to scream. I snapped my head around and glanced over my shoulder. Standing about two feet away was the faceless man. He stood there silently - not moving. The wet eye socket winked at me and my stomach lurched as if I were going to be sick. I looked back at Sam and dragged him to his feet. I threw his arm around my shoulder and screamed at him.
“Run! Run!”
I dragged Sam back to the tree by the school wall. He dropped to the ground and let out a mindless groan. I bent down and shook his shoulders with all the strength I had left in me. His eyes rolled in their sockets and I slapped his face.
“Sam! Wake up!”
He groaned at me again. I looked back over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of the faceless man approaching the tree line.
Snaking my arm through Sam’s, I dragged him back onto his feet.
“Get up!” I ordered at the top of my voice. Once he was standing, I gripped hold of his face and he blearily looked at me.
“Do you want to fucking die?” I screamed at him.
Looking back again, the figure was now striding towards us. I shoved Sam towards the wall and he began to moan at me.
“Please, Sam!” I begged him. “I can’t do this on my own!”
Sam started to sway slightly then straighten. He looked at me and I could see his pupils begin to sharpen and focus. I turned him to face the fast approaching figure and roared into his ear, “If you don’t get your freaking arse over that wall in the next two seconds, we are gonna die! Now move it!”
At last, realising his impending fate, Sam turned to face the wall and began to scramble up it. I followed close behind. If I’d been on my own like I’d planned, I would have just flown over the wall and been well away from that freak. But I couldn’t do that now – I couldn’t risk anyone in this world that had been pushed, finding out I was a half-breed. We hoisted ourselves up onto the branch and shimmied across it. Sam reached the other side of the wall first and without any hesitation, he threw himself from the branch and to safety. I got myself into position to jump, but the urge to look back one last time was too strong to resist. I glanced over my shoulder to see the faceless figure looking up at me, his one good eye staring into mine.
Then, he whispered something from a gash in his cheek. His voice was faint, but I heard what he said.
“Where’s Alice?”
“Who’s Alice?” I whispered back.
“Sister,” he said.
Then, he started to change. It was like his skin was turning grey. Cracks began to appear on his face and hands as he slowly turned to stone. Within seconds he stood motionless, like a statue that had been standing beneath the giant tree for hundreds of years.
Swinging myself from the branch, I landed with a thump in the grounds of Ravenwood.
Back in my room, I placed a wet towel across the cut on Sam’s forehead as he lay on my bed.
“I thought that man was dead!” Sam whispered, still not really believing what he’d just seen.
“So did I,” I whispered back, dabbing gently at the cut on his brow.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked, as if I had all the answers.
“I don’t know,” I replied, wiping away his blood. My throat began to turn dry, and my stomach knotted. I glanced over at my bag tucked beneath my wardrobe and pictured the bottles of Lot 13 hidden within it.
“I think you know more than you are letting on,” Sam said, taking my hand from his brow and holding it in his.
“Say what?” I asked him.
“There is something about you, Kayla,” he said, looking up at me. “I know there is some crazy shit going on and I’m not just talking about the wolves and the freaky faceless dude in the woods.”“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, trying to break his stare.
“I have dreams, Kayla,” he said. “Dreams about the world – but it’s not like this – it’s different somehow. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
I shook my head.
“I’m going to tell you something, Kayla,” he said, his voice dropping. “I’ve never told this to anyone before ‘cos people would think I’m mad.”
“So why are you going to tell me?” I tried to smile.
“Because I reckon you’ll believe me,” he smiled. “I get the feeling that you know there is something wrong with this world, too.”
“I don’t know what you mean...” I started to lie, but he began to talk over me.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Kayla
“Both of my parents were strong swimmers,” Sam said, getting up and crossing to my bedroom window. “I don’t think they loved me very much, but they were strong swimmers.”
“All parents love their kids, don’t they?” I said, acting surprised by what Sam had just told me. I knew that not all parents loved their kids, but I was still trying to do the whole ‘let’s play dumb’ routine. “I’m sure your mum and dad did love you.”
“Nah, they didn’t,” Sam said, still looking through the window. “They loved me enough to feed me and put clothes on my back – but it always felt as if they were just going through the motions. There was never any heart put into it. It was like they always expected more of me – as if they were waiting for something to happen.”
“Like what?”
“It was like I had disappointed them in some way,” Sam said and this time he did look at me. “I thought perhaps they wanted me to be captain of the school football team or get better grades, but that just wasn’t me. My thing is drawing. I draw comics – but it wasn’t enough. Not for them, anyway.”
“What’s wrong with drawing?” I asked. “I think that’s cool.”
“It’s nothing,” Sam said, changing the subject back to his parents. “They were away a lot of the time. I never understood what they did, but my dad always seemed to be flying off here, there, and everywhere for meetings and my mum would go with him. People would often visit the house – men in smart suits. I never really got a good look at their faces as I was always ushered up to my room and the door would be closed. I would try and listen to what was going on, but they would always speak in hushed voices. So I spent most of my time escaping. You know, like in your head. I’d make up characters and would bring them to life in comic books.”
“So apart from your mum and dad being a bit secretive, what was so weird about that? All parents have secrets – don’t you think?” I said, thinking of how my dad had kept the fact that he was a Vampyrus from my mum for years and the fact that she had a son called Isidor. That was a secret that he had kept from me, too.
“It was what happened when they drowned that day – that’s what was so weird,’” Sam said.
“What was weird about it?” I asked him, and in the back of my mind all I could really think about was if Isidor was already on his way to collect the camera. But Sam had been a good friend to me and I liked him, so I wanted to hear him talk about himself for a while.
“My dad stood and looked at me sitting in the sand. He was mad again. He was always mad about something. I’d been drawing again – even on the beach, I’d been drawing.
“‘Are you coming on this boat trip with me and your mother or what?’ he asked me.
‘Nah, I think I’ll stay here and finish this picture, if you don’t mind,’ I said, not looking up from my drawing pad.
‘Actually, I do mind,’ my dad said, reaching down and yanking the pad from my lap. ‘For once in your life you’re going to take your head out of those goddamn clouds and do something worthwhile.’
‘But…’ I started; he wasn’t in the mood to listen.
‘Don’t you dare argue with your father!’ Mum shouted. I remember she was dressed in a swimming costume,” Sam said.
‘We didn’t bring you all the way to Cornwall just so you could sit here doing those ridiculous drawings!
‘I told you we should’ve left him at home, Sue,’ dad groaned as he chucked my art pad into the sea. ‘I don’t know, we try and do the kid a favour and this is the thanks we get.’
“I looked up at my dad, then at my art pad as it floated away,” Sam said, and I couldn’t help but feel sad for him.
What kind of dad would do that to his son? I wondered.
Sam stood and looked out of my bedroom window, and I could tell that he wasn’t watching the school kids who wandered about below or the Greys, he was reliving the day that his dad had thrown his pictures into the sea like they were little more than rubbish.
“I followed my mum and dad up the beach. The boatsat alongside a short jetty. It was packed with tourists. There were two empty seats and my mum and dad took them. I kinda felt uncomfortable and left out again. My mum said that I was standing in her way and blocking the sun, so I was to go and stand someplace else.
“Without saying anything, I moved away from them. What was the point in inviting me along if they couldn’t even bear me standing next to them?” Sam explained, and I felt really upset for him.
“I leant over the edge of the boat and looked back at the beach. There were hundreds of people sunbathing. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, except for me.
“The boat left the jetty and we made our way out to sea. Peering over the edge of the boat, I glanced back at the beach as it slipped into the distance and I saw something odd,” Sam said, turning to look at me.