“Honey, can you drive faster?”
“The road’s too slick.” His eyes never left the road, never to so much as blink. “Both of you, put your seatbelts on.”
The dark street was shrouded in a layer of white snow, giving the scene an eerie glow as we drove. Our car approached the stop sign at the end of our street, and its rear wheels suddenly jerked to the right, causing it to slide through the intersection. My hand instinctively grasped the seatbelt crossing my chest before the car came to a halt. From the front seats, both my parents let out a long breath of relief.
Thump, thump.My cheeks grew hot, and the beating of my heart was all I could hear. After what felt like an eternity, I finally exhaled the breath I’d been holding, desperate to steady my racing heart.
We continued to drive toward town, inching our way down the street as the endless expanse of the black road stretched ahead. Mounds of snow flanked the darkened street and twisted trees, their branches reaching out like long, bony fingers, ready to snatch us away. Everyone in the car was silent, except for the occasional deep cough from my father that pierced the stillness. I knew that once we reached town from our country home, we’d probably have to abandon the car, but it was eerie not to see a single headlight besides our own, and for the next mile or so, nothing else stirred in the darkness.
At least nothing else we knew of.
In normal weather conditions, it would take five minutes to reach town, but tonight, it seemed unlikely we would make much faster. Out of my peripheral vision, a red light flashed through the night. I squinted, straining my eyes to make out any shapes in the pitch-black darkness. “What’s out there?”
My mother turned her head and gasped, causing my dad to quickly divert his attention from the road. The car lurched forward, indicating he’d put more pressure on the gas pedal. A sudden burst of red light illuminated the darkness, causing me to hold my breath in fear of being surrounded by whatever lurked in the shadows. A sense of foreboding slowly seeped into my very being as tears pricked my eyes.
We were passing a large, red barn that sat on top of a hill, surrounded by perfectly shaped pine trees. I knew we were getting closer to town once I saw the outline of the nostalgic Christmas tree farm we frequented every winter. The road, which had been flat and even for miles, finally started to descend. Red and blue lights blinked across the farm to our left, indicating a police vehicle coming down the road that merged with ours. A cluster of red lights illuminated an open field to our right, and as our headlights reached the top of the hill, it felt like all eyes were on us.
We zoomed down the icy hill, feeling the useless pump of the brakes as we tried to control the vehicle. The red lights from the field menacingly advanced toward the road, causing my father’s breathing to grow heavier. Fidgeting with his glasses, he muttered something indiscernible under his breath.
“What’s wrong, Sal?” My mother’s voice trembled, and her eyes never left the lights outside. “What are you saying about Dante?”
My dad opened his mouth to answer, but instead, a piercing scream escaped his lips. Out of nowhere, a colossal gray creature leaped in front of our car, its glaring red eyes staring us down.The air was filled with the sound of screeching tires against ice as my father twisted the steering wheel, causing our car to veer off course.
The last thing I knew was the fear in my mom’s face and the sound of metal crunching. She’d turned around to look at me, making sure I was okay. Then the impact jerked my body, hitting my head against the window before everything went black.
I knew I’d been unconscious for a while, yet it felt like only seconds had passed. The sounds of hurried footsteps echoed around me before a man shouted to someone nearby. “He’s conscious!”
As more people ran to me, their footsteps and chattering grew louder. I wanted to ask what happened and where I was, but my brain wouldn’t allow my mouth to work. I assumed I was in a medical facility, judging by the beeping and sterile smell around me, but each attempt to focus my eyes sent nausea surging through me, blurring my vision in a dizzying swirl. A sudden chill made me shake involuntarily, sending a jolting shiver through my body.
“He’s in shock—bring more heated blankets!” An authoritative woman’s voice rang through the area. “How are the other two? Status, please!”
“This one has BRETH,” a man yelled to her. “His license says his name is Salvatore Asposito. We’re pulling his medical records, but he’s losing blood rapidly. I don’t think he has much time.”
Feet shuffled toward the woman next to me. “She didn’t make it.”
What are they talking about? Who wasshe?
A wave of nausea washed over me as I realized they were talking about my mother, my breath coming in short, shallow breaths. Could it be true she was dead? I strained my ears, trying to pick up any word, any whisper, any sound that might offer aglimmer of hope about my father or confirmation of my mother’s death. The looming reality of losing both parents pressed down on me, a suffocating weight of grief and fear.
She sighed in frustration. “These two, the father and son, have the same blood type. Let’s begin a transfusion. Hopefully we can save him.”
There was a slight tug on my arm as it was lifted, and I felt a slight pinch before my vision went dark once again.
“This is working,” the woman announced. “His body is taking well to the blood.” I strained to catch every word of the frantic whispers around me. I finally heard her confused voice command those around her: “Test again for BRETH.”
The room went silent, and my heart dropped. Was my father dead? What were they testing for?
As I drifted into unconsciousness, the voice of the woman doctor was a mixture of confusion and relief. “He…doesn’t have a trace of BRETH left in his body. Ishethe cure?”
And from that moment, I knew this was going to be an issue.
Chapter One
“Order for Vincent!”
The booming voice echoed through the bustling café, and I scrambled from the small table, clutching a book under my arm. The man extended his thick arm to me, his sausage-like fingers clutching a brown paper bag. “Thanks, Louie.” I smiled and took it from him.
“Almost yer birthday, isn’t it?”
