Читать книгу Fated - Morgan Rice - Страница 6

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.

Caleb, Sam, and Polly all jumped up, startled from sleep, and looked at her as though she were mad.

Caitlin looked down at the phone and she realized, maybe she was.

Caitlin stormed from the room, opened the door to their large front porch, and went out alone and sat on a rocking chair. It was cold in the dawn, and she didn’t care. She felt numb to the world.

She folded her arms across her chest tight, and she rocked and rocked in the cool November air. She looked out at the empty street that was spreading with the light of a new day, not a soul in sight, not a car moving, all the houses still dark. Everything still. A perfectly quiet suburban street, not a leaf out of place, everything clean and how it was supposed to be. Perfectly normal.

But nothing, Caitlin knew, was normal. She suddenly hated this place which she had loved for years. She hated the quiet; she hated the stillness; she hated the order. What she wouldn’t give for chaos, for the stillness to be shattered, for sound, for motion, for her daughter to appear.

Scarlet, she prayed, as she closed her eyes, crying, come back to me, baby. Please come back to me.