The Hunters

Part 33

33.

Rowan

     I wake to screams: gut wrenching, blood curdling, spine bowing screams. For just a moment I think that they might belong to my own tongue; I do after all have plenty to scream about. But no - no these aren’t my nightmares; they’re coming from the room down the hallway.

     My skin erupts in an attack of goose-bumps as I abandon the warm cocoon of my quilt. The horrified yelps curl around the corner and wander through the open door - all of a sudden the cold doesn’t matter.

     Tyler is huddled in on himself when I walk in. He’s hugging his knees to his chest, fingers biting into his forearms deep enough to draw blood. The half-moon shaped welts bleed a mesmerising trail into a pool on the sheets. His blanket lies in a tangled heap knotted around his ankles. Still he screams.

     “Tyler?” I call though above his cries I can hardly hear myself. “Tyler!” I shout more assertively. No response.  

      When I was little I used to get night terrors, my mum told me once. I don’t remember now but she said I’d wake her up in the middle of the night with my screams. She said she’d call my name but I couldn’t hear her and I’d just keep screaming until the dream was over. The only thing she could do was try to comfort me, try to let me know she was there.

     Tyler isn’t a little kid and I can’t say how comforting my presence is to him but his eyes are flitting manically under his eyelids and his strangled whimpers sound into the night. So I do the only thing I can.

    The spongy mattress gives under my weight; I move as gently as I can so not to jar him. He doesn’t notice. Soft as a feather I drape my arm over his chest and curl by body around his protectively. His shoulders hunch and I can feel every muscle flex under his skin. He mumbles something and I hug him tighter. I think he said sorry.  

    “Tyler,” I whisper lips to his ear. “Tyler if you can hear me you need to wake up.” I’d have said he couldn’t hear me but at the sound of my voice his shoulder blades bunch together and he breathing hitches. “I’m here.” I tell him and hold him closer, furrowing my head into the crook of his neck.

     For some reason I suddenly cant suck in a breath, can’t see clearly. My heart picks up like a little frightened rabbit and I’m seeing double. A dribble of sweat forms at my brow and every part of me aches. Tyler grips my hand and I can see it.

     Fire. It’s everywhere, blazing up the walls and along the carpet, leaving behind an ashen trail. There’s a man: Dad. His lungs are failing, body shutting down and he’s throwing his body up against a brick wall as if somehow this will alone can make it break. His face is a bloodied mess, his arm dangling at an unnatural angle. The fire catches his trouser leg and burns. He keeps throwing himself against the unmoving bricks as though there is nothing there.

     There’s a woman in the next room. I can’t see her but her screams fill the air like its own ghostly presence. I want to get to her – need to stop the screams that cut through me like glass. It’s too hot and the flames, they block my path, barring the entrance. A barrier between us.

     My own lungs are burning. The stench of searing flesh, of complete destruction clings to my nostrils. Someone calls for me – no not me, Tyler. The voice is desperate, choked from the smoke but light and high like the owner should be giggling – not screaming for their life. With sickening realisation I know who it is: Terrie.

     Flames dance tauntingly in front of me, whipping out sparring waves of intense heat. I don’t care. Walking through the door, I can hear the skin on my calves sizzle and pop. It hurts so much! I cry out and fall back.

     Terrie is still shouting for me. I can’t bear to look at Dad but a wet thudding sound continues in his direction. Mum’s gone horribly quiet. In my head I imagine Terrie, her screams being swallowed whole by the smoke and her tiny body being singed by fiery fingers stroking her baby-soft skin.

     I can’t breathe. Somehow I’m down the path and sat at the curb though I don’t remember getting there. Death, nauseatingly sweet and laced with the heavy smell of burning floats around me and my head swims. Bile rises in my throat and before I know it I’m bent in half, retching and throwing up my guts into the gravel.

     I can’t hear any screaming now, though the sound of it rings clear in my ears. Echoes in my head like a CD stuck on loop. They’re dead and I didn’t save them.

     It’s my fault.

     I swim back to myself with a dizzying rush. The air is too clean and the mattress too soft underneath me. I realise I’m crying and I don’t know why. The images are flying inside my head, burned into my memory. But that’s the point, I isn’t my memory.

     “Tyler, oh God!”

     “Rowan?” Tyler asks still drowsy from sleep. His eyes drift open. They are a paler blue than usual, almost shocking white.

     “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have seen that I… Umm – “I start to leave but Tyler’s fingers wrap around my wrist and hold me in place. His eyes search my face with such intensity I almost blush. “I saw it.” I tell him and we both know what ‘it’ is. He blanches.

     “How?”

     “I – I don’t know. It just happened when I touched you.”

      He considers this for a moment and then replies, “Sorry I woke you. It hasn’t happened in a while, well not since leaving The Base. I guess I kinda thought it stopped.” He shrugs nonchalantly as though it’s no big deal.

     “This happens a lot?” he nods.

     “Everyone has their demons Rowan – me more than most. Ignoring them has its consequences. For me it’s bad dreams.”

     “That was a bit more than a bloody bad dream,” I mutter.

     “You shouldn’t have had to see that,” he says.

     “Yes I should. That was them wasn’t it? One of them set the fire so that they could feed?” he nods. “You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

     “Why not? I should have done something.”

     “What could you have done Tyler? Tell me that. How exactly could you have saved them?”

     He looks away, “I don’t know. All I know is that someone out there killed them and I didn’t stop them.”

     “Is that why you’re doing this? Is that why you became a Hunter?” Again he nods. “Is that why you took me?” His hand clenches over mine.

     “Taking you was a mistake.” Funny how one mistake can turn my life upside down… OK maybe not so funny.

    “Get some rest,” I tell him. “I doubt training tomorrow will be any easier than today.” I smile and wink, walking towards the door.

     “Rowan,” he calls after me. I turn and his blue eyes are burning around reddened sockets, “Stay with me.” He says. It’s not a question.

     I hesitate. Spending the night with Tyler would no doubt end up being a big mistake but it’s tempting. I search his face, all sharp lines and harsh angles. But under the surface I see vulnerability in him, almost… almost fear.  I sigh and, knowing I’ll live to regret it, nod.

    He scoots over so that there is room for me. I crawl in and he sets the quilt over us. We both settle into sleep, an invisible division line drawn right down the middle of the bed but even with the space between us I can feel him just inches away.

     Just before I fall completely into sleep, I shift over until my body is pressed right up against his. Flinging my arm around his waist, I succumb to sleep; his chest as my pillow and the strength of him under my hands – fighting away my own nightmares.