Finding Grace: The Guardian Chronicles Book One

Chapter 46. Chasing Zebras* (medical folks will understand zebras :)

Evan reached reluctantly for the gun. Nathan looked put out when he said, "It's not loaded, it won't hurt you."

She snatched it from him then and checked the weapon over, not really knowing what she was supposed to find, but realized it was not heavy for her to hold.

"Have you ever shot before?" Nathan asked as he picked up another long gun with a smaller barrel.

"No."

"Then that is your gun. If anybody gets in here, all you have to do is point and shoot. Don't worry about aiming, you'll hit everything you point at in this range," he said. Nathan lifted the gun in his hands to his shoulder and sighted down the barrel toward the door. "This one is for distance. It's old, but with the right shooter, it's got a mile range. My dad had one. It's a Mosin Nagant Russian assault rifle. I got to shoot his a few times."

Evan was starting to get a little concerned about Nathan's focus on guns and all the knowledge he had. Her brief musings were interrupted by a loud bang upstairs that caused the lights to shiver overhead, and fade in and out. Placing her hand over her mouth so she wouldn't make any noise, she grabbed Nathan's shoulder and pulled him back into the galley. He pulled away and took the shotgun from her. Evan watched as he jammed several shells in it and chambered a round before handing it back to her.

"Keep your finger off the trigger unless you're ready to fire. Point it at the ground unless I tell you to do something else," he said urgently. Nathan then checked the clip for the gun he was holding, snapped it in place and put the strap over his shoulder. He proceeded to pull two handguns off the wall, checking if each was loaded, and put one of them in the back of his jeans while keeping the other in his hand.

"Be careful, Nathan, don't shoot your butt off. I know we heal quickly now, but I don't want you to get hurt," Evan cautioned.

Nathan leveled a glare in her direction that was out of place on his young face. "Guns are serious. My dad taught me to respect them, and I take them seriously. Don't worry about me, just be careful you don't shoot me."

At that moment more noises sounded overhead; they both stood silently staring at the ceiling. Footsteps were moving cautiously through the house. Evan was trying to map out in her head which room the steps were in. If her sense of direction was correct, the sunken living room was opposite where the safe room was, so the intruder must be in the kitchen. Just then a series of metallic clicks and a high-pitched ringing sounded through the house, followed by an unearthly shriek of pain. The shrieking went on for several minutes and Evan huddled closer to Nathan, embarrassed that she was hiding behind a teenage boy. The sound of dragging replaced the shrieking after a moment. Drag...stop...drag...stop...drag. It sounded as if the person was retreating.

Evan and Nathan waited motionless for so long that the game system powered itself off, and later the television turned to a black screen with a message that asked 'Are you still watching?'

"Do you think we can move?" she whispered to Nathan. Evan was so out of her comfort zone. Her heart was pounding in her ears and she desperately wanted to throw up again. Her stomach was twisted in knots and threatened to empty itself.

"Yeah, I don't think they know we're here. It sounds like Emil and Jean set up some sort of trap. Maybe whoever it was is dead, or maybe they changed their mind about coming in," Nathan said thoughtfully. He looked at Evan closely for the first time since they first heard the boom and screaming. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"I feel sick," Evan said simply.

He took the shotgun from her hands and propped it against the couch, then led her to the counter. "Maybe you should eat. I remember being so hungry I felt sick right after I changed. Try it."

He opened the door to the warmer Emil had turned on and pulled out a plastic pouch of red blood. It looked fresh from the hospital blood bank. Not sure what to do with it, he opened the cabinet doors and found a glass. Using his teeth, he tore open the little nipple hanging off the pouch and poured the contents into the cup. Licking his lips where a drip had fallen, he grimaced.

"It's not like fresh, but it isn't too bad," he said as he handed Evan the glass. She took it and sat on the couch. Lifting it slowly to her lips, a wave of nausea overtook her and Evan put the glass aside. Rubbing her temples, she wished again the heartbeat pounding in her head would go away. Heartbeat. She didn't have a heartbeat. Alarmed Evan tried to discern where the sound was coming from.

"Do you hear that, Nathan? A steady beat like a heartbeat, only really fast?" she asked.

Nathan looked at her like she was crazy. "No. Do you?"

"It's probably nothing, never mind," she said, trying to play off her discomfiture. Once again, Evan leaned forward and hesitantly took a sip of the warm red liquid. It should have repulsed her, but instead, her body awakened to the taste of human blood. Knowing it would be far worse if it got cold, Evan drank the blood quickly, hoping it would not come back up. She hated being sick. Once it was gone, she took the glass to the sink and rinsed the thick red residue from it.

On edge now, the two sat in silence not wanting to alert any intruders who might be left to their location. Tired of being still, Evan got up and paced back and forth from the galley to the door, trying to pinpoint the source of the pulse she heard. Having worked herself into a frenzy of frustration, she stopped and stood staring into a peaceful pastoral painting on the wall. As she lost herself in the detail of the rolling hills and the country lane leading to a small house in the distance, Evan began to listen to her body. She took a deep breath, which did not change the sound. She slowly clenched and unclenched her fists, and flexed her leg muscles, which did cause a rushing sound in her ears, but not a pulsatile sound. Evan let her hand come to rest on her abdomen, not willing to accept the next option. But when she placed her palm on her low belly, the heartbeat sped up.

"Oh my God," she whispered.