I'm dedicating this chapter to a great friend of mine, who like one or two others has been a rock to me and helped me in my writing so much. Krystal, thank you. Please read her amazing book VAMPIRE BRIDE. It has been awarded the MOST READ VAMPIRE BOOK on WATTPAD!!! And there is a huge reason why: it's awesomesauce. So proud of you girl!
~Chapter 7 -Dupe~
Saturday May 7th, 2011, 1:04 p.m. -On the road
“Egg and cress; that would be yours, darling.” Aunt Erica handed the sandwich packet to Uncle Bo.
He took it without turning round. “Thank you, dear.”
“I’m the chicken salad. I got you a ploughman’s,” she said, addressing Jaz. “I remember you having that at some point.”
Jaz took the sandwich and as she leaned against the door, she gazed at her aunt. “You have a really good memory,” she observed.
Erica looked at her and let out a short laugh. “Years of crossword puzzles to keep my brain healthy, though I’m not that old.”
Jaz looked her aunt up and down. It was the first time she had tried to guess Erica's age. She'd never asked if Erica was an older or younger sibling, but had always assumed she was younger by appearance. Perhaps late thirties? Maybe mid?
She had a very rectangular face; a strong -almost masculine- jaw gave her face a sharpness that was more attractive than fierce. The bones of her cheeks were high and pointy, disguising any sagginess, bags or wrinkles that might have been very obvious if they didn’t have the support her cheekbones provided.
Her small, feline eyes that were now studying Jaz, had the habit of twinkling when she smiled or laughed. Her straight, white teeth grinned below her small, pointed nose that Jaz was sure looked very similar to hers, minus the bump on the bridge.
Jaz gazed down at the black, pointy, patent heels with the bright red soles her aunt was wearing and then looked back up at her face.
“I’m thirty six,” Erica said, guessing Jaz's thoughts.
Jaz nodded with a smile. That seemed about right.
Her aunt then grabbed a bottle from her lap and handed it to Jaz. “Orange juice.”
Jaz took it with a smile and twisted open the cap. She noticed that the seal had already been broken and looked down at it in puzzlement. “Huh,” she grunted to herself.
She wasn’t looking up to notice the momentary startled expression that flashed across her aunt’s face. Her uncle almost choked on a mouthful of egg, cress and bread. Driver gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.
“What is it, dear?” Aunt Erica asked, composing herself enough to sound believably unknowing.
“Oh nothing, just my bottle. The seal was broken.”
“Oh yes, silly me. I opened it for you and then when you didn’t come out the bathroom straight away I put the lid back on.”
Jaz bobbed her head in understanding and twisted the lid off. She smiled at her aunt before turning to gaze back out the window.
When Jaz was sure no one was looking, she slipped her hand inside her handbag and very quietly popped the lid of her pills’ bottle. To normal human ears it was quiet.
Driver, however, did hear it.
He flicked his gaze up at her reflection in the mirror. She was looking down, her chin angled towards the window, as if she was trying to hide her face from the others. This sparked his curiosity.
He watched as Jaz glanced at her aunt and uncle before popping something into her mouth, downing any trace of it with several gulps of orange juice.
Driver frowned -which to him wasn’t much different from his ordinary expression- causing the crease between his brows to deepen a little more as he watched her swallow. The curiosity was still brewing beneath the surface but the realization that there was no turning back now, blazed like a red hot poker in his gut.
Jaz drank half of her juice. Then she quietly clicked the lid of her pills bottle closed, dropping it into her bag. She stuffed the bag in its nook between her hip and the door. When she checked that no one had seen, it was then that she let her eyes slip to the mirror.
This time he wasn’t looking at her, and the tension that she'd felt when she'd prepared herself to snap her eyes away, faded. She watched him without his knowledge. It was a good minute before she’d even realized she’d been staring and when she finally peeled her eyes away, she noticed she had difficulty moving them. They felt sluggish as if she’d just woken up. It was a strange feeling. She stretched her lids wide as she forced her eyes open. Her lids still felt heavy. Stupid iron pills, she thought irritably. She hated taking them.
No, she hated the fact she had to take them, she corrected herself.
She was a young woman, fit, healthy, ate well, drank plenty of water, exercised, and yet she couldn’t do anything about her severe iron deficiency anaemia. She’d had it since she was a small child. I was diagnosed when I was five, she remembered. Ever since then she’d had to take two iron tablets daily, and had to go to the hospital to have one injection per week for five weeks at a time. Then she'd have a break, somewhere up to a year, maybe more if the pills and her diet were working. Usually not. The doctors didn't know why.
It was hell.
The fact that she had to rely on them to survive the day really pissed her off. She hated relying on anyone or anything. Her own body should work and be able to absorb the iron itself. It should, but it didn’t. And no doctor could explain why.
There was no cure, just a lifelong treatment of popping pills and injections.
Some days she felt so weak she had to lie in bed. Her anaemia wasn’t the norm, but it was the closest explanation anyone could find for her symptoms.
She needed the pills; even more, she needed her strong dosage of shots. Without any of them, she’d die.
She wasn’t sure if it was because she was ashamed of it, but she just didn’t want anyone knowing. The only people who knew about it were her parents. If she’d had any choice, they wouldn’t know about it either. She wasn’t about to tell her aunt or uncle.
Yet even with these pills she still felt tired. God damn it. “Do you mind if I roll down the window?” she asked, loud enough for all to respond.
“Not at all,” her uncle replied.
Her aunt spoke over him. “Are you too warm?”
“No, um, just want some fresh air.”
“Sure, open it.”
This time she didn’t see the exchange of glances between her aunt and Driver through the mirror.
She pressed the button, the window rolled down an inch and the fresh air attacked her face. It was exhilarating and helped her tiredness ease a little. “Let me know when it gets cold,” she called over the loud whistling of air as the car sped down the motorway.
“Sure,” her aunt mumbled.
*
2:04 p.m.-On the M6
An hour had passed before she started to feel it.
Her stomach became sensitive. Any strong bump in the road made it groan in discomfort. It contorted from within as if she’d swallowed a buzzing beehive. She coped with it for another ten minutes before it started to writhe and she could feel the acid gurgling just below her oesophagus.
She didn’t want to throw up in this car. It was a nice car. And she’d probably die of embarrassment if she barfed right there and then. She didn’t want to ask them to pull over so she kept quiet.
Then her head started to feel strange, like it was clouded in thick black fog and she couldn’t concentrate or think of anything coherent.
She stared sluggishly out the window with one hand across her tummy as she tried to soothe the fire beneath the thick layers of flesh and stomach lining. Even as her hand rested on her turquoise-green t-shirt she could still feel the scorching heat of her belly. It made her sweat. The salty water trickled down her spine and pooled in the pits of her arms. Her breathing became shallower and heavier as the minutes passed. The cool wind wasn’t helping anymore.
She wriggled out of her leather jacket and removed her two black and gold rings from her slippery fingers, stuffing them into her jacket pocket.
Her vision started to act strangely. The passing hills that had been ordinary shades of green and dusty yellow were suddenly bright and luminous forms of their original colours. They began to hurt her eyes as they danced violently across her vision. She closed her lids and rested her burning head against the cool glass. The vibrations of the road only made her stomach worse. She let out a quiet groan.
It was then that Aunt Erica asked her, “Are you okay, darling?”
Jaz’s response was delayed and sloppy. “I-I dunno.”
Uncle Bo swung round. “What is it, Jaz dear?” he asked, surveying his niece’s sweaty brow, abnormally pale skin, and droopy eyes.
“I don’t feel so good,” she managed to say.
“What’s wrong?” Aunt Erica questioned in a tense voice.
“My eyes hurt, I feel tired, dizzy and this close to vomiting,” she said, holding her hand up with her index finger and thumb almost touching.
“Maybe it was the sandwich?” Aunt Erica suggested.
Jaz held up the unopened packet.
“What do you want us to do?” Erica asked, frowning at the sandwich packet.
“It’s so hot,” Jaz whispered, holding the back of her hand to her burning forehead.
“Would you like me to pull over?” came the sound of Driver’s velvety bass voice.
Jaz looked at the back of his head between her half closed lids, not moving from her spot as she dug the back of her skull into her headrest.
“No,” her aunt cut in a little fiercely. “We’re nearly there now. There’s not much point in stopping.”
“How much longer?” Jaz croaked, her eyes closed.
Erica shot Driver a look that Jaz didn't see.
He glared at Erica in the rear view mirror then let out a low sigh. “We should be there in fifteen minutes. If there’s no traffic.”
Jaz groaned knowing that answer was relative. Those fifteen minutes could double or triple or… she didn’t want to think of it. She just tried to breathe even, controlled breaths hoping that was enough to stop the vomit shooting up.
“I will do what I can to get you there in that time,” Driver said in a stern voice.
She glanced up at the mirror to find him watching her with a determined glint in his eyes. The fierceness of it startled her for a moment. The fire in her belly roared and she swallowed hard to try and hold it back with a ball of saliva. It worked, this time. She looked away from him and lightly bobbed her head in response.
Those last minutes of the journey were hell on earth. Driver kept to his promise, racing down the country lanes on the last ten miles of the journey. The only problem with that was that the bumps and curves of the narrow country road made it even harder to hold her vomit down. Her sweating was becoming unbearable. Her head was pounding. She could hear her heartbeat and the pumping of blood in her ears. She felt like she going to die.
Correction: she wanted to die.
She couldn’t make out the scenery around her. It blurred in her weak vision so she kept her eyes closed. She couldn’t do anything about the sudden fever. The window was all the way down but it didn’t help.
She glanced down at her phone, poking out of her open bag. 2:28 p.m. Nearly four hours in the car. It had been ten minutes since she’d told them about her sickness.
She would have jumped for joy if she’d had the energy when they finally slowed and pulled into a dirt road surrounded by forest on both sides. The road was long and bumpy but ran pretty straight. She looked ahead, praying that she’d somehow make it to a place she could puke in peace. She couldn’t see the spa resort building from the road. It must have been on the downhill slope. The road went up steadily but it was enough to conceal whatever was beyond.
She stared out the window as blurred, luminous green trees flew by. Driver had slowed down to about thirty miles per hour but her stomach acid was racing at a rapid speed. She had to get out. She needed to get out, right now.
“Stop the car,” she pleaded quietly.
“Darling, we’re nearly there just hold on,” Erica began.
“I’m gonna puke, pull over.”
“What?” Erica asked.
Jaz became desperate and angry. “Pull over! Now!”
Driver slammed on the brakes and she thrust herself against the door as she pulled the handle. The door stayed put. Locked. She was about to snap at Driver but the sound of the lock clicking open stopped her. She jumped out and got as close to the forest as she could, facing away from the car before she puked her guts out.
The burning acid was disgusting and painful as it went up her throat and out her mouth. Her chest heaved, her stomach ached. She puked until there was nothing left but stomach acid. On the last few smaller explosions of sick, she collapsed onto her hands and knees and coughed the remains of it up. The air was suffocating as the afternoon heat mixed with the hot stench of sick. If she’d had anything left in her she’d have vomited again. Instead, she gagged and gradually controlled herself with heavy, slow breaths until she felt empty and weightless.
Driver had got out and was leaning awkwardly against the car, having been unsure of what level of comfort would seem normal to provide. Instead, he’d decided being out of the car would show he had mild concern, somewhere safe between indifference and his true feelings of anxiety and frustration for her suffering.
Bo was stood on the other side of the car, with his elbows rested on the roof. He watched with an inquisitive expression.
Jaz heard her aunt approach, then stop a few feet behind her. Jaz guessed it was to give her some space and she appreciated it.
When she felt like all the sickness had gone -being replaced with frailty and exhaustion- she carefully raised her head. Staying on her knees, she gazed at the thick layers of trees in front of her. She couldn’t see their end and she found them strangely soothing.
She’d got so used to their stillness that it was very easy for her to spot the sudden movement fifty feet away in the dull light, from behind a trunk. It wasn’t an animal; that she knew straight away. The figure hadn’t moved between trees, disappearing from one tree trunk to the other. Whoever it was had leaned out to look and then hidden back behind it. She squinted at the tree.
She then sensed her aunt move away from her and for some reason it made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle. Something was wrong.
She slowly eased herself up onto her feet. Even at that speed, she still felt dizzy and wobbled on her heels before regaining her balance. She noticed that there was a strange heaviness in her ankles. It moved down to her toes filling them with a shooting pressure, as if all the blood in her legs had gathered there, pumping vigorously. It wasn’t painful, just unpleasant, like pins and needles. She ignored it, on edge from the man she’d seen in the forest.
She looked back at the car.
Jaz’s suspicions were set ablaze by the cautious look on Aunt Erica's face. Uncle Bo's usually jolly expression had also become very rigid and guarded. He was staring in Driver's direction. Jaz's eyes flickered to Driver. He was stood stiffly. She could see the tendons on his neck protruding. His jaw was clenched, his hands balled into fists. He wasn’t looking at her. He was glaring into the forest.
She whipped her head round, her back now facing the road. She focused her tired eyes on the shaded trees, finding not one, but two dark figures moving hastily between the thick trunks.
Towards her.
She gave Erica one last panicked glance, catching the look of deceit in the woman's bright eyes as they darted between Jaz and the two approaching men, before Jaz bolted back down the road towards the exit.
She nearly fell forward as her jelly legs tried to propel her down the hill. She forced her body to balance, almost snapping tendons as she sprinted as fast as she could down the dusty path. The sound of her black, studded flats crunching furiously against the dust, grit and scattered stones was countered by several sets of raging footfalls.
She didn’t look back. The terrifying sight of the men’s approach would only weaken her determination to get the hell out of there.
She whimpered through her panting, willing her legs to move. She knew they weren’t working as well as they could; as they should. Something was wrong with her.
So many thoughts rushed through her head but they were all incoherent babbles. Only the sound of the men's heavy footfalls as they got louder and the exit she could see hundreds of yards ahead, were all that mattered.
Then the sound of another pair of shoes thumping against earth seemed to overtake the other two. These ones were louder and that meant, closer. She swivelled her head round automatically and was horrified to see Driver was only a few feet away from her and gaining.
She tried not to squeal as she forced her body to push forward. Faster. Her weakened limbs couldn’t take the extra strain and her balance was lost. She fell forward, landing on her front with one lazy hand held out as she tried to stop herself from falling. Instead, the weight of her body crushed her arm and her clenched fist slammed into her diaphragm as she hit the ground, winding her. She inhaled dirt as she took a ragged breath to force the air back into her lungs and choked.
Two big, firm hands grabbed her by the waist and rolled her over as she coughed violently.
Even between fits of coughs, her first instinct was to kick out, making contact with meaty, solid flesh. She caught the top of his leg and he fell forward. But he was quick and strong, and managed to hold himself up with his hands. They slapped against the ground either side of her hips and stopped him from falling on top of her.
She rasped in fright, whilst dragging her legs away from his body. She then swung around and pushed herself up with her trembling hands to run. She made it two steps before he was on her again. The force of his weight made her lose her footing and she dived to the floor. Before she hit the ground, he got a grip around her chest with one bulging arm. As they both fell, his elbow knocked against the ground and he let out a sharp grunt.
She tried to claw his arm off her chest but he held on tight. He was knelt over her, with his chin on her shoulder and she squirmed under him with her right cheek pressed against the ground. Her strength was nothing to his. The grains of dirt and small pebbles scratched her face but not enough to draw blood.
She hated his arm so close to her breasts and the feeling of being violated forced the last drops of energy she had, transforming it into fury. With that, she put her palms against the ground either side of her ribcage and thrust away, rolling them both over. His back knocked against the ground stunning him, whilst she fell backwards on top of him, her spine bashing against his torso. She used that short moment to elbow him in the face, as hard as she could. The pointy bone of her elbow crunched against his nose.
He groaned and let go of her. Blood trickled from both nostrils and he pinched the bridge of his nose in vexation, squeezing his eyes shut.
She got up quickly but the whole world started to spin and rather than move forward, she dropped down heavily to the floor. There were stars across her vision and she couldn’t summon the strength to lift herself up again.
Her sense of touch was delayed as Driver gently rolled her onto her back and lifted her up into his arms. She only realized he was carrying her when she couldn’t feel the ground beneath her anymore. Her head flopped back against his arm and when she saw his face she made a feeble attempt to slap it. Her hand swung just short of it, brushing his chin and catching some of the blood that had trickled down his face. Her arm became heavy and slumped down by her side.
All the symptoms she’d experienced in the car came back in a rush.
It was excruciating.
Her feet and ankles were throbbing and the strange pressure made them feel like they were swollen with blood, about ready to explode. Her head was pounding, her stomach was so fragile; the little jolts as her capturer’s shoes hit the ground at each step made her want to throw up again. Her whole body was bruised and sore from the struggle and the exertion she’d put it through. Her chest was feeling the worse of it. She still hadn’t recovered from being winded.
Everything hurt but that wasn’t what worried her.
She felt faint and dizzy and couldn’t think straight. She was exhausted: inches from a deep and long sleep. It made her panic.
Her breathing quickened. She wheezed in pain at the pressure her panicked breaths put on her wounded chest and winded lungs. Soon the tiredness corrected that. She tried to fight it but she could feel her consciousness slipping away with each step Driver took.
As she drifted to sleep, Driver marched farther up the dirt road, carrying her close to his chest. He glanced down at her with a pained expression in his eyes.
As he got nearer to the two men, his expression became furious and very frightening.
He was disgusted with himself and everyone else for letting it come to this.
The plan had been to get her in the building safely and quietly; let her sleep while they got down to business; no panic, no problem. The drug would keep her sedated for several hours. Only now she’d wake up in absolute fear. He’d only agreed to do this if he could be the one to break everything to her gently, and slowly. Now the very sight of him would horrify her. He clenched his jaw tighter, grinding his teeth.
The two men stepped aside warily as he stormed up to them.
He stopped just as he walked past them to growl, “You fucked up. You will be dealt with, make no mistake about that.”
The two men held their heads down and shuffled several paces behind him.
Erica and Bo were staring from their places by the car.
“I hope you’re happy,” Driver addressed Erica and Bo in a low snarl.
Erica opened her mouth to speak but her husband squeezed her arm in warning. The sight of the menacing glare on Driver’s face, and her husband’s firm hand, made her close her mouth.
Driver marched forward, leaving the car behind. They weren’t far from the village now. “Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled.