Blood Hunt (Blue Blood Babies sequel!)

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I clambered into the front seat of the car beside my mum.  Anna was already in the back, knees jammed against the back of Mum’s seat in the tiny three-door Calico.  Trying to lighten the mood, I threw my bag into the backseat, aiming for Anna’s head.  She squealed as she threw her hands up to protect herself.

“Alfie!” Mum’s voice whipped out, raspy and choked. 

“What?” I muttered.  “I was just messing about.”

But that was the point.  I wasn’t supposed to have the energy to mess about.

“You need to be careful,” Mum hissed at me.

I held her stare, my mouth tightened with anger.  The street was dead.  We both knew nobody would have seen or heard me.  But Mum was wound tighter than a coiled spring and I didn’t have the heart to argue with her. 

“Right, okay,” I muttered, turning away. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her shake her head as she shoved the key in the ignition and coaxed the car to life.  The tiny gesture had my teeth on edge again, but I glued my mouth shut.  I wished for the thousandth time I was still allowed to ride my board to school.  But even though it was motorised, that very definitely came under the heading of using too much energy.  I sighed.  Pretending to be exhausted all the time was more knackering than anything else!

“Remember,” Mum said as she started manoeuvring the light traffic, “You cannot tell anyone where you’re really going.  Anyone at all.”

I sighed again, this time loudly.  Did she think I was stupid?

“I mean it, Alfie.  Not even Calum.  It could-,”

“Mum, I know!” I exploded.

She bit her lip and for the first time I noticed how glassy her eyes were.  I watched her blink three, four times as she tried to hold in tears and I immediately felt bad.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.  “Mum, I’m-,”

But she held up a hand to stop my words.  I chewed down on my tongue and went back to staring out of the windscreen.  We were following a bus.  It was caked in mud, the windows half-obscured, but as it turned a sharp corner I noticed how empty it was.  There was a handful of passengers at most.  Right in the middle of rush hour.  The road was the same.  There were few cars, zero foot traffic.  More and more people seemed to just be staying indoors.  Our classes were rarely more than half full.  In fact, the only place you could guarantee a crowd was the pharmacy.

The atmosphere in the car was cold after our little spat and I was glad when Mum pulled up in front of the school.  I got out without saying goodbye, pulling my seat forward so that Anna was able to scramble out of the back.  She handed my bag to me wordlessly and we started walking slowly – always slowly – through the gate.  I heard the chug and rattle as Mum accelerated her crappy Calico away.

I took a deep breath, trying to release the tension between my shoulders.

“I know,” Anna said.  “But she doesn’t mean it.”

“She thinks I’m stupid,” I complained.

“No,” Anna frowned at the cracked paving slabs as we approached the doors.  “She’s scared.  About everything.  And she’s worried about you.  She doesn’t want you to go.”  She wasn’t the only one.  “But I think she’s really starting to feel bad.  She keeps trying to give me her pills.  I heard her throwing up this morning.  And yesterday.”