He’s trying to drug me again, says something about how the force is stronger that attracts them to me when I’m asleep. He keeps slipping me drinks here and there in my drinks but I dump them down the drain when he’s not looking, and drink out of my stolen water bottle.
I can feel my head beginning to clear, but my sense of smell and taste still is gone. It’s horrible. I’m trapped in a death cage with nothing to protect me but glass and machinery, Otis has assured me that the bus can handle anything the Night-Crawlers can throw. I don’t believe him.
Its thirty minutes to show time, the peaks are growing darker, the special force waiting just behind the walls are ready. Now we wait. I think I might snap.
“K.C. you might want to lay down for a bit, conserve your energy. I’m shutting off all lights now, night vision on.” Were being monitored by the task force, so we have to keep the pretence up that were related, I nod and lay down on the bed. Otis probably thinks I‘m going to be out within a few minutes. I do my best impression of falling asleep.
Time ticks by, and I see, through slit eyes that he’s getting his contraptions ready, I didn’t bother to listen when he explained it.
A chill runs through me, the mountains are completely dark. I feel them moving. They are coming. I hear the bus door open, and see Otis walk out with the equipment, fresh air reaches my face, and for an instant I can smell it, faintly. But then he’s back and the door is closed. I feel energized from inside. I close my eyes again, they are almost here, somewhere a censor beeps, notifying Otis of their approach. The Task Force must be securing their weapons. I feel fear rise, like a wave. It’s not my own.
I can’t describe it. Suddenly lights appear on the main street and a car careens out of control and smashed into a wall. Out jump three haggard humans, screaming. They’re waving their arms and running for the protection of the wall.
I can feel their fear, as if it is my own. Something clicks inside of me, I suddenly smell the sweat coming from their bodies, crusting wounds. I smell the oils of the air, the burn wood, flesh and rubble that has surrounded me. In the air around me is the taste of antiseptic and cleansing materials. And for the first time I smell Otis. It is a musty smell, but registers in my brain as delicious.
Otis is cursing into the com about the three figures. The first has made it to the door, and is screaming. I feel and taste something in the air, it is familiar. The last figure, closest to the car disappears. I smile, the second one notices, and I almost laugh at his fear. He will not make it.
The second man disappears. I sit up in bed, and as quiet as a leaf falling I crawl onto the floor. I can sense my prey has no idea what is to come. I taste his frustration and anger. Things slide out of my fingers, I look down in surprise to see I can no longer see myself. I am black as pitch. I raise my claws in the darkness and flex them. Oh it feels good to have them back.
I slink down the walk way to the front of the bus. Otis is waiting, but he has no idea. They have come, not because I attracted them. They have come because I called them.
I slip through the plastic, right behind him before he could blink. I sank my claws and teeth into his back and neck. Oh it feels so good, I revel in his screams.
Now I know.
I am one of them.