Catharsis (Book 3): Catastrophe Page 15

  As I try to figure out what to do next, I pick up on the man’s heart rate and breathing increasing again as the jogger gets nearer to him. But he doesn’t move. Outwardly, there isn’t a clue as to what I’m sensing going on inside of him. His mind is a hurricane of anxiety exploding everywhere, but his outward appearance is of a man sitting on a bench reading and completely unaware of anyone else’s presence.

  As the girl gets closer to him, his heart beat almost becomes deafening in my ears. The frenetic tat-tat-tit-tat-tat-tit of his central organ is as fascinating as it is distracting. As much as I would love to stay and watch and see what is happening, I can’t afford to be seen by the girl. Having to subdue or quiet her would cast a dark spell upon an otherwise enjoyable evening, and I have enough darkness in my life without adding to it.

  Sliding backwards and embracing my natural talent of finding shadows, I disappear into the park and away from the two individuals that had kept my rapt attention only moments before.

  After analyzing what I had just witnessed and jogging away and into the darkness for a minute, I finally stop to gather my thoughts.

  “I’m going to have to go back,” I realize. “I can’t ignore whatever that was. Or whoever that was. I have to know what was going on…for my own sanity.

  “But first,” I say and smile while rubbing my tummy. “Let’s finish why I came out here in the first place. Food.”

  I still need to find a few more people I can pull from before I call it a night, and then I can track down Bench Guy and see what he’s up to. And if he’s gone from the bench? I’ll either see if his scent is strong enough for me to trail him, or just have to accept forgetting about him. I’m hoping for the first, but I’ll do my best to prepare for the second.

  Until then, though, there are others in this park who can better serve my immediate purpose. I’ll just need to be quick and not waste time, so I have a chance of getting back before he’s moved on.

  But where would be my best option? Aim for the few remaining crowded areas of the park at this time of night or wander until I can find an easy, isolated individual to take advantage of? A large and varied selection versus ease of the task at hand.

  “Let’s see if I can get lucky locally, and if not then I’ll head further out,” I say and move back towards the small lake I’d been near earlier.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  It takes me longer than I’d hoped, but not as long as I feared. Almost twenty minutes has elapsed by the time I’ve found a middle-aged woman tying her shoes next to a covered group of picnic tables. Frustrated with how long the search has taken, I abandon all subtlety as I come up behind her. I have no idea why she’s there, or if anyone is with her, nor does any of it really matter. There is no one around here, and she isn’t paying attention and really that’s all I need.

  Quietly stepping in behind her as she finishes her second shoe and stands up, I wrap my right arm around her torso to pin her arms and then use my left hand to lean her head to that side exposing her neck and my desired focal point. Startled, she starts to scream, but I bite into the artery before she even finishes drawing a breath. As soon as my teeth puncture the skin and the red nectar pours forth from her, her body jumps and kicks once and then goes still against me. Not limp…just motionless. She stops fighting and part of her just accepts it.

  I think calming thoughts at her for the next few seconds as I pull and swallow, and then I release her and lick the holes immediately causing them to coagulate and quick leaking. Releasing her slowly, I let her slide down until she’s sitting on one of the picnic tables. Her eyes remain unfocused and her dazed expression is almost comical. It probably would be humorous if I wasn’t so used to it by now. This is just the hangover that seems to slap into people after I’ve used them. The dreaminess will fade in a few minutes, and it will be replaced by confusion, but seldom is there any fear. I don’t know why, but each person comes away from my visit almost appearing to be euphoric. Ren and I have discussed it many times, and he surmises something in my physiology causes humans to release powerful endorphins which helps them cope with the trauma. Instead of me leaving them scared and upset, they tend to be chill and relaxed. Like a stoner coming down from a good high.

  I don’t want to leave this lady alone in a dark park at night, so I wait with her for a few minutes and watch as the fog slowly clears from her features. When she reaches the stage where she’s blinking and looking around like she’s trying to figure out her surroundings, I finally reach out and gently move her face until she’s looking at me.

  “Ma’am?” I ask. “Are you going to be ok? Do you know where you are and how to get home?”

  Instead of answering she just stares at me blankly for a few moments and then asks her own questions. “Who are you? What just happened?”

  Giving her my most reassuring smile, I tell her, “I was walking through the park and I saw you stumble and fall a moment ago. I ran over to check on you. I wanted to make sure you were ok.” I wait as she stares at me and then returns my smile. “You’re going to be ok, aren’t you?”

  “Thank you, dear,” she tells me. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” She stands up and pats my shoulder tenderly, and then wobbles slightly on her feet. “I’m just a bit woozy, but I’m fine. I should probably head home.”

  “That’s a great idea,” I tell her, thankful that she’s taking the suggestions so well. “You know how to do that?” I ask as she starts to move away from me.

  “Uh huh,” she replies a bit dreamily and then continues walking while adjusting her angle slightly so that she’s aimed more towards the distant parking lot.

  “Good,” I say to no one in particular, and I also stand up. It’s late enough now that most of the park is empty, and it took me much longer to find a useable supply than I had planned. I’m either going to have to go back to the guys playing basketball again or most likely leave the park and look elsewhere. Neither is exactly appealing, nor do they help me get back to my mystery man on the park bench.

  “Maybe I should check on him one more time before I leave,” I tell myself. “Just make sure it’s all good over there. And,” I admit hesitantly, “I could always use him if no other options open up.”

  Nodding to myself, I start jogging back in the general direction in which I’d left Bench Guy and Jogger Girl.

  NOOOOOOhmmmm!

  The scream is short and quickly muffled, but I hear it after jogging back for only a few minutes. It stops me, and I immediately rip my hood down and cock my head to one side in an attempt to trace where it came from.

  “What the hell was that?” I mutter and don’t argue when the Darkness starts to creep up into me and flood my body. Instantly everything around me comes into a sharper clarity.

  My vision crystallizes until I’m can pick out individual leaves on trees hundreds of yards away.

  My ears instinctively begin to filter out the hiss of the wind and the rustle of the grass in an attempt to lock on to human sounds that may be hidden behind them.

  And my nose quickly starts sorting out every scent around me until it can find the faintest traces of something important.

  Then it does. The same acrid and unidentifiable scent that had brought me across the park earlier pops back up again on the air now. Only it’s stronger, richer and much more distinguishable. Bench Guy! But layered behind his scent is another: fear. Not just fear, but terror. And it isn’t his terror. It’s someone else’s pheromones kicking out, but I’d bet my left pinkie finger that he has something to do with it.

  “Ren, I’ve picked something up,” I say out loud as I turn and begin sprinting in the direction that the scent is the strongest. After several paces when Ren doesn’t answer, I realize why. He can’t. I didn’t bring my helmet with me. Or even a radio. I’m just so used to having his presence with me when something bad happens, that its absence is almost startling. Ren’s existence has almost become a part of me. It’s a bit weird that it takes a moment like this for me to recognize how m
uch I need him.

  “Never mind, Ren,” I mutter and smile. “I’ve got this one on my own.”

  I realize the trail I’m following is taking me close to where I’d been staked out before when I had watched Bench Guy try not to react to Jogger Girl. That can’t be a coincidence. Whatever is happening must involve him.

  Slowing down as I approach his now empty bench, I pause to try and get my bearings and figure out which direction to go next. Spinning slowly to look in every direction, I can’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary. Everything seems normal, but I know that isn’t true. Something awful is about to happen, or is happening, and it must be close.

  Closing my eyes to cut off their input, I let the Darkness increase its power into my remaining senses as I search for a clue. Something. Anything that can give a direction. And then…

  Breathing. Two sets of lungs. One snorting hard like a bull, and the other weak like a kitten trapped in a bag.

  And whimpering. A pitiful and heartbreaking whimper that makes my skin crawl.

  And another batch of sounds that I can’t quite place, but I can only guess to be struggles.

  The Darkness picks up on all of it and helps turn my body until I’m facing another of the many small groves of trees that are around the park. This one is only about a hundred yards away and as I open my eyes and focus all of my attention on it, I can tell it is where the sounds are coming from. Whatever is happening, it is happening there.

  And it must be bad. I can feel the Darkness pushing up into me in an attempt to prepare me for whatever I’m about to discover. I think part of me knows. Part of me suspects what I’m about to find. But the Darkness? It is relishing this. It’s urging me forward. It wants me to discover what is in those trees. It wants me to deal with it.

  “Ok,” I say for the final time of the night and I release my hold on my body and run for the trees. With the Darkness spurring me on, I make it into the small group of trees in the blink of an eye.

  I find him standing there. Bench Guy. Holding something against a tree, and he and the something are both moving. But their movements don’t match up.

  Then my brain processes that the “something” is Jogger Girl. And she is covered in blood. Soaked in blood. From the expression of her pale face I can only assume it is her blood. Too much of her blood for this evening to end well for her.

  I can only stop and stare with my mouth open and watch a scene that is worse than any horror movie I have ever witnessed. I’ve interrupted Bench Guy doing something to this poor girl that no man should ever do to a woman. No, something that no human should ever do to another living creature. It almost goes beyond my comprehension, and I have witnessed a lot in my short life.

  The girls eyes are flicking around looking at everything and yet seeing nothing, and then they settle on me. For a moment recognition seems to come into them, and then it flickers away and she burbles out a sound that makes my stomach flip.

  That is all the Darkness needs as permission as it completes its initial flooding of my system. I feel the power rush through me in a way that I’d sworn I’d never let happen again after I nearly died in that parking lot.

  But that time I hid behind the Darkness and cowered while it raged through me. I was a passenger. But not this time. I embrace the Darkness as it comes up into me. I pull on it. I embrace it and together we race forward to end what I have witnessed tonight.

  Tonight, we act as one.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I have no regrets, but I should.

  I should not have left that peculiar man earlier in the evening when I suspected something was wrong, but I did. I left him to whatever he was going to do and just assumed everything would turn out fine. It didn’t.

  When I found him in the woods, I should have ended him quickly, but I didn’t. I was slow. And methodical. And I enjoyed the time it took for him to pass from this world.

  I shouldn’t have fed from him and let his blood mingle with mine, but I did. I fed until there was nothing left to feed from.

  I should have tried to save the girl, but I didn’t. By the time I was finished with the man, she was too far gone to save. It is possible she might have been saved if I had gotten her help immediately. If I had simply knocked him aside, and then carried her away so that medical attention could be called, then it’s possible she would still be alive now. But I didn’t do that. I relished my time with him. I enjoyed myself. And when I was done, and I turned my eyes upon her the Darkness let me know she wasn’t going to make it. Her heart beat too slowly. Her breathing was too shallow. She suffered too much trauma this night to ever want to come back from it.

  I should have gotten her help, but I didn’t. The Darkness let me convince myself that the kindest thing we could do for her was ease her misery and release her from this world and its pain. She still had some blood left pumping in her. Not much, but some. And her blood was whole and pure and good. And delicious.

  I should regret what I did to her, but I can’t find it in myself to do it.

  The Darkness eases my pain now, also. Dulls it.

  Maybe keeping it around isn’t such a bad thing after all.

  I just can’t let Ren know. Ever. He wouldn’t understand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Ren still isn’t home when I get back, and I mutter a small prayer for that miracle.

  The blood isn’t easy to see on my dark clothing, but Ren has always managed to have a sense for these things. Hiding an event like this from him will put a strain on our relationship, but it’s a necessary one.

  After parking the Zero in its dock and wiping away the few red smears I can find on it, I head directly to our backyard and strip off all of my clothes and throw them into one of the many trash barrels strewn around the area. I’ll just have to remember to pick them up later when I can get a bag, and I’ll take them out somewhere inconspicuous and dispose of them. Until then, they’ll be safe here.

  With the lid slammed back onto the barrel, I head back into the warehouse and over to our little bathroom shower. The little unit that Ren had delivered and installed has come in handy a number of times over the months as I seem to come home either exhausted or filthy or a combination of the two more often than not.

  Letting the water run over me and wash away the remaining dirt of the night, I try and block out what happened. The Darkness kindly assists me. Feeling too broken inside to resist it, I let it dull the thoughts and memories until I can push them aside and almost forget they exist. Almost. I can still feel them, but it’s doing a wonderful job of preventing them from haunting me. Right now, that’s better than I deserve or could ask for.

  Once the hot steam of the shower begins to finally lessen on my skin, I turn off the water and use the towel. I get dressed and head to my little sensory-deprivation closet that I’ve been using as a makeshift bedroom. Closing the door, I turn off the light before lying down on the bed. The insulation that Ren installed for me does an incredible job of blocking out all sound and light and smells that might creep in from the old, abandoned factory surrounding us.

  Ren has managed to create a place where nothing can get to me. Nothing can bother me.

  Except my own thoughts. And from them I have no escape.

  But escape is what I need. I can’t have these thoughts distracting me today. Not on a day when I’m supposed to confront the greatest evil I’ve ever known: Chadwick.

  I need to be released from their hold, and that is where the Darkness comes in. It has continued to nudge at my conscious mind like a shy puppy that has been reprimanded too many times. I’ve kept pushing it away in the past, but maybe that needs to stop. Maybe the Darkness is exactly what I need.

  Keeping my eyes closed, I release whatever mental hold there’d been and smile.

  “Help me,” I say softly, but to whom I’m speaking or of what I’m asking, even I’m not sure.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  A soft knocking at my door refocuses my attention. B
linking my eyes, I turn my head slowly towards the sound. I haven’t exactly been sleeping; I’m not sure that’s something I’m even able to do anymore. I believe I was “unthinking” for a bit, and that’s almost as good. It must have been a gift from the Darkness. I think it flooded my mind and grayed everything out and numbed me to what was going on around me. I feel more relaxed and rested than I’ve felt in a long time.

  Maybe fighting the Darkness all this time wasn’t the right choice. The Darkness might be more beneficial than I’ve been giving it credit for.

  “Hey, Cat,” Ren’s muffled voice filters in through the padded door. “It’s time. We need to talk.”

  “One moment,” I mumble as I stand and stretch and feel the small tingles of energy return to my limbs. “I’m coming.”

  Opening the door, I see Ren standing on the other side of it, his eyes beaming and a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He looks more excited than I’ve seen him in a long time. He looks excited and hopeful. Those are definitely positive omens for the day.

  “What’s up, amigo?” I say with my own smile and step past him and out into the warehouse’s main floor. “What do you have for me?”

  Ren’s eyes assess me as I step past him, and the twitches of his smile increase. “You look great, Cat! Better than I’ve seen you in a long time,” he tells me. “I don’t know. You look rested and relaxed and,” he pauses before continuing. “Almost happy.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him and stretch out my limbs again. “I feel good. It was a good night.”

  “Well, whatever you did, it worked,” he says while stepping past me and moving towards his workbench and computers. “You should do it again and more often. It seems to be helping.”

  I can still taste the small wisps of grayness in my mind tamping down any internal reactions I might have to his comments stirring memories of what I actually did last night, and I’m grateful. For a moment I force my mind to focus on it, and the events and actions of what I did last night slowly stir to the surface. I momentarily worry how it might impact me, but none of the emotions or guilt I would have expected are attached to them. It’s more like seeing events that happened in a history book rather than things I did to a person.