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CHAPTER 22 WARNING FROM THE GRAVE

“I—I came to warn you,” Todd whispered, the words escaping hesitantly in small bursts of foul breath.

“Huh?”

Matt closed his eyes, tried to keep down the waves of nausea.

Todd loosened his grip but didn’t back away.

“I came to warn you,” he repeated, tilting his head till it rested on his shoulder. Matt opened his eyes to see a foot-long tear in the flesh of Todd’s neck.

“Vampires,” Todd whispered.

“Yes,” Matt agreed, nodding solemnly. Everything was spinning, spinning so fast. He had to close his eyes again.

If only he could escape from the smell, so putrid, so sour, so sickening, so suffocating.

“They’re vampires, Matt,” Todd warned, reaching out to Matt as he floated backward.

“I know,” Matt whispered, his eyes closed. “I know, Todd.”

“Lisssssssssten,” Todd hissed, suddenly sounding far away. “Lissssssten, Matt. I came to warn you. They’re vampires.”

“I know, Todd. I know!” Matt cried with a loud sob. His eyes were shut tight. He tried not to inhale. The smell was so powerful, so disgusting.

“I know, Todd,” he repeated weakly. “But I’m so tired.”

Silence.

Matt kept his eyes shut.

“I’m so tired, Todd. Really. I’m just so—tired.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, Todd. I’m really sorry. But I’m very, very tired now. I’m just . . . too . . . tired.”

• • • • •

 

Matt swam slowly to consciousness and, one eye open, peered at the window. A wash of gray morning light filled the room.

He groaned and tried to open his other eye, then gave up and closed them both.

He didn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t remember sleeping.

He only remembered the dream.

Am I ever going to stop dreaming about Todd? he wondered, yawning, stretching his legs over the bedcovers.

“Hey—”

He pulled himself up and, squinting, looked down.

He was still dressed. Still wearing the denim cutoffs and blue long-sleeved polo shirt he had worn with Jessica.

“Ohh,” he groaned, seeing that his sneakers, caked with wet sand, were still on his feet.

The bedspread was streaked with sand. He must have just fallen onto his bed, unconscious.

Reaching for his alarm clock, he knocked his Walkman onto the floor. It hit with a loud clunk and bounced. It was only seven-fifteen. Still early.

What was that smell in his nostrils?

That sour smell?

It was in his throat too. It seemed to be on his skin.

Had he thrown up without realizing it?

Still squinting and struggling to wake up, Matt pulled himself to his feet and looked about unsteadily.

Bits of the dream flashed into his mind.

It had been a terrifying dream. So real.

So real the foul aroma had stayed with him.

He stumbled to the mirror over the dresser and grabbed the dresser top for support.

Even though he had slept for hours, he didn’t feel at all rested or refreshed.

In fact, he had never felt this tired in all his life.

Must be sick, he thought the foul odor clinging to his nostrils.

He bumped the Kleenex box onto the floor.

Not bothering to pick it up, he peered into the mirror.



And saw the dark pinprick bruises on his throat.

And knew it wasn’t a dream.

“Todd was here,” he said aloud, his voice hoarse and sleep clogged.

“Todd came back to warn me.”

He leaned forward, pressing himself against the wooden dresser to get a better look.

Tiny, round pinpricks. The color of red plums.

A tiny bruise.

Where Jessica had drunk.

Jessica.

She was a vampire.

Todd had come to warn him about Jessica.

She had given him the same kind of throat wound as—April had.

Staring into the mirror, Matt knew he had been right. Gabri was a vampire too.

Todd had come to warn him.

He raised two fingers to his throat and gently, reluctantly touched the bruise.

Touching the spot gave him a chill of pleasure.

Those kisses. Those lips. So wet against his throat, so warm.

He pressed the spot lightly and received another chill.

It wasn’t a dream. Todd was here.

And now what can I do? What should I do?

He realized his legs were trembling. He felt so weak, so completely exhausted.

Dizzily, he made his way back to the bed. He sat down heavily and tried to pull off his sneakers.

But the effort was too much for him.

I’ve got to do something—got to warn April.

Sighing, he toppled onto his back, his arms dropping weakly over the sides of the bed.

“Got to warn April,” he whispered, struggling to open his eyes. “Got to save us . . . ”

Then he was asleep again. Not a normal sleep, but a deep unconsciousness. A dreamless darkness.

He was awakened some time later by hands shaking him roughly.

“Todd?” he cried, sitting up straight. “Todd? You’re back?”

 

 



Date: 2015-04-20; view: 578


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