Cutthroat Carmine (Book 1)(COMPLETE) (Wattpad Featured Novel)

4. [bleyk/ red-o-zuh]

FIVE YEARS AGO...

"Blake, are you coming?" asks an impatient, twelve year old Carmine.

"Just give me a minute, I need to find my knife!" Blake stumbles out from his bedroom, moments later, with a wide grin across his mischievous face. "Ok, now I'm ready." He wipes his grimy hands across his hole-ridden t-shirt and lifts up his falling trousers.

"Your hair looks too clean," Carmine complains, "It doesn't give people the impression that you're neglected and in need of a hot shower."

"Oh, just shut up. Nobody will notice my hair this late in the evening, especially on a dark street corner."

"Did you pack the tranquilizer?"

"Of course! What do you take me for? This isn't our first time you know." Blake scrunches up his nose, an arrogant gleam in his eye.

"You're awfully cocky for a ten year old boy. Don't let your ego get to you." Carmine shuffles on her extremely faded Converse sneakers and opens the door for her brother.

Blake gives Carmine a reassuring nod. "I got this, ok?"

The two children venture out into the chilly September air. The walk is a long one. Each breath feels like tiny daggers digging into their throats, but their blood is hot from anticipation. The thrill of the hunt. They do not communicate with anything more than the occasional grunt and nod until they reach the gas station.

"You ready?"

"Born ready."

Under the dim light emanating from the gas station, Carmine sees the hunger in her brother's eyes. The same hunger that thrives inside her. Hunger for blood.

Carmine grabs her brother's hand and the two of them step onto the side of the highway. A few cars zoom by them, speeding towards a destination far away, their drivers fully concentrated on the foggy road ahead.

Carmine whips out her red, threadbare scarf, letting it flap in the wind. On cue, Blake starts doing frantic jumping jacks in attempts to attract the attention of a passerby. Just one. That's all they needed. One unlucky driver.

Sure enough, after about fifteen minutes, their pity act draws the attention of a middle aged woman in a Buick SUV. Her wiry red hair almost completely covers her face and a heavy-framed pair of black glasses perches on top of her nose.

She rolls down her windows. "Are you two kids ok?" Her eyebrows knit together with worry.

"We need help," Blake starts, his prepubescent voice high and almost girly sounding.

"We were supposed to get a ride to our aunt's house but she never showed up. We tried calling from inside the gas station but she didn't pick up the phone. Now it's getting late and we're super hungry and we need a ride before it get's too dark," Carmine says. The lines are so familiar to her she recites them without even thinking. She stops to take a deep breath. Then she looks up at the female driver with her best puppy dog face. Carmine bats her long brown eyelashes.

"Did you call your parents?" the woman asks, deeply concerned. She unbuckles her seatbelt and opens up her door.

First step, success.

"Our parents...they...they just died last week," Blake mumbles. He squeezes his eyes shut and grunts out two little tears. He clenches his jaw and looks down at his feet. His sneakers are muddy and his once white shoelaces are stained brown.

"Oh my Lord, I'm so sorry to hear that," the woman steps out of her car and bends down on her knees until she is face level with the two children. "Where does your aunt live?"