After Caleb had seen the policemen out, he closed the door and marched back into the room, scowling at Caitlin. She had never seen him look at her with such anger before, and her heart sank. She felt as if her whole life were unraveling before her eyes.
"You can't go speaking like that in public!" he snapped. "You sound like a crazy person! They're going to think we're all crazy. They're not going to take us seriously."
"I'm NOT crazy!" Caitlin snapped back. "And you should be taking my side, not theirs, and stop pretending like everything is normal. You were in that room with me. You know what you saw. Scarlet threw you across the room. Would a seizure cause that? A sickness?"
"So what are you saying?" Caleb retorted, his voice rising. "That means she's a monster? A vampire? That's ridiculous. You sound as if you're losing touch with reality."
Caitlin's voice rose right back at him. "Then how do you explain it?"
"There are a lot of explanations," he said.
"Like what?"
"Maybe it has something to do with her sickness. Or maybe, like they said, she was on some kind of drug. Maybe that kid Blake—"
"That's ridiculous," Caitlin spat. "Blake is a good kid. He's not a drug pusher. And besides, you saw how she outran us. We didn't even stand a chance. That wasn't normal. Don't pretend you didn't see what you did."
"I'm not going to listen to any more of this," Caleb said.
He turned and marched across the room, yanked his army coat off the hook, put it on and quickly zipped it up.
"Where are you going?" Caitlin asked.
"I'm going to find her. I can't just sit here. It's driving me crazy. I have to look."
"The cops said the best place to be is here. What if she comes home while you're out there?" Caitlin asked.
"Then you can stay here and call me," Caleb snapped. "I'm going out."
With that, he crossed the room, opened the door, and slammed it behind him. Caitlin listened to the sound of his boots quickly descending the porch steps, crunching across the gravel, then heard him get into their car and take off.
Caitlin felt like crying. She didn't want to fight with Caleb—especially now. But she couldn't let him convince her she was losing touch with reality. She knew what she saw. And she knew that she was right. She wasn't going to let others convince her she was losing her mind.
Caitlin turned to Sam and Polly, who stood there, very still, eyes opened wide in surprise. They had never seen Caitlin and Caleb fight before. Caitlin herself had never seen them fight before—up until this moment, their relationship had never been anything but harmonious. Sam and Polly both looked stunned, afraid to interfere. They also looked at her as if she were a bit crazy, not in her right mind. She wondered if maybe they sided with Caleb.
"I feel like maybe I should be out there searching, too," Sam said tentatively. "Two cars searching the streets is better than one. And I'm pretty useless in here. Is that okay?" he asked Caitlin.
Caitlin nodded back, afraid to open her mouth for fear she would cry. Sam was right; he wouldn't be much use here in the house. And she had Polly. Sam came over and gave her a quick hug, then turned and left.
"I'll be on my cell," he said, as he left. "Call me if you hear anything."
Sam closed the door behind him and Polly came over to Caitlin and gave her a long hug. Caitlin hugged her back. It felt so good to have her best friend here, by her side. She didn't know what she would do without her.
The two of them sat side-by-side on the couch, as Caitlin wiped away a tear forming at the corner of her eyes. Her eyes were already red and raw from all the hours of crying. Now, she just felt hollowed out.
"I'm so so so sorry," Polly said. "This is a nightmare. Just awful. There are no words. I don't understand what happened. None of it makes any sense. I know that Scarlet didn't do drugs. She wouldn't. And you're right: Blake seems like a good kid."
Caitlin sat there, looking out the window at the falling night, and nodded blankly. She wanted to talk, but she felt so shaky, she was afraid she would burst into tears again if she did.
"What do you think about what the police said?" Polly asked. "About contacting her friends? Do you think that's a good idea?"
As Polly said it, Caitlin suddenly remembered it, and realized it was the perfect thing to do. She racked her brain, wondering how to get in touch with her friends.
Then it hit her: Scarlet's phone. She'd burst out of here without even pausing to grab it. Her phone must be somewhere in the house. Maybe in her bag. Probably in her bedroom.
Caitlin jumped up from the couch.
"You're right," she said. "Her phone. It must be in her bedroom."
Caitlin ran across the room and up the steps, Polly and Ruth on her heels.
She hurried into Scarlet's bedroom, saw the upturned sheets and pillows, saw the dent in the sheetrock where Caleb had been thrown, where her own head had hit, and remembered. It brought it all back, and made her feel queasy as she relived it again. It looked like the scene of a disaster.
Caitlin felt a surge of determination as she scoured the room. She rifled through the mess on her desk, on her dresser—then spotted her bag, hanging on a chair. She rummaged through it, feeling a bit guilty, and felt for her phone. She pulled it out, victorious.
"You found it!" Polly yelled, hurrying over.
Caitlin saw there was still some battery life. She opened it, feeling bad for spying, but knowing that she needed to. She didn't know Scarlet's friends numbers, and had no other way of getting in touch with them.
She tapped on Scarlet's contacts, then went to her Favorites. She scrolled through, and saw dozens of names. Some names she recognized, and others she didn't.
"We should call them all," Polly said. "One by one. Maybe one of them knows something."
Caitlin stood there, in a daze, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. As she went to dial the first contact, she noticed how badly her hands were shaking.
Polly noticed, too; she reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Caitlin's wrist, and Caitlin looked up.
"Caitlin, sweety, you're still in shock. Let me call all these people for you. Please. It would give me something to do. Just go and sit down and rest. You've been through hell, and you've already done all that you can."
As Polly said it, Caitlin knew she was right. She wasn't really in her right mind. She looked at the phone, and for a moment, almost forgot what she was doing. She reached out and handed the phone to Polly.
Caitlin turned and walked out the room, and within moments, she heard Polly's voice ringing through the air, already having someone on the line.
"Is this Heather?" Polly called out. "This is Polly Paine. I'm Scarlet Paine's aunt. I'm sorry to trouble you, but we're looking for Scarlet. Have you seen her?"
Polly's voice slowly faded as Caitlin walked back down the steps. She held the banister as she went, feeling dizzy, feeling as if the world might slip out from under her.
She finally entered the living room, walked over to a large, overstuffed chair, and sank into it. She sat there, staring out the window, her mind racing. Despite her best efforts, images flashed through her mind: Scarlet in bed, screaming; her snarl; her throwing Caleb; her bursting out of the house…. Was it all real?
As she dwelled on it, she couldn't help thinking of her meeting with Aiden. Of his words, of her journal. Had her journal caused all this? Why had she had to go to that stupid attic? Why did she have to go visit him? If she hadn't, if she'd left everything alone, would all of this had happened?
She thought of Aiden's warning, that Scarlet would unleash vampirism back onto the world.
You must stop her.
Caitlin sat there, wondering. What was Scarlet out there doing right now? Was she feeding on people? Was she turning them into vampires? Was she spreading it, even now? Would the world never be the same? Was Caitlin responsible?
Caitlin felt like grabbing her phone and calling Aiden. Grilling him. Demanding he tell her everything, every last detail.
But she couldn't bring herself to. She reached out and held her phone, and something inside her stopped. She remembered Aiden's final words, and they brought a fresh wave of nausea. She loved Scarlet more than life, and could never entertain harming her.
As Caitlin sat there, clutching the phone, staring out the window, hearing Polly's muted voice from upstairs, her mind raced. Her eyelids grow heavy. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
*
Caitlin woke to find herself sitting alone in her large, empty house. The world was still. She sat there, wondering where everyone had gone, and stood and crossed the room. Oddly, all the blinds and drapes had been drawn tight. She walked to one of the windows, and pulled them back. As she looked out, she saw a blood-red sun—but this time it looked different. It didn't seem like sunset, but rather sunrise. She was confused. Had she slept the whole night? Had Scarlet come home? And where had everyone gone?
Caitlin headed towards the front door. For some reason she sensed that maybe Scarlet was there, waiting for her.
She slowly pulled open the heavy door, looking out. But the world was absolutely still. There wasn't a single person on the streets, or even a single car in sight. All she could hear was the sound of a lone morning bird chirping. She looked up and saw it was a raven.
Caitlin heard a sudden noise, and turned and walked back through the house. She walked into the kitchen, looking for signs of anyone. She heard another clanging, and made her way to the window against the back wall. The drapes were drawn tightly here, too, which was odd, because Caitlin always kept them open. She reached for the drapes, and pulled the cord.
As she did, she jumped back in fright. Standing outside, its face to the window, was the pale, white face of a vampire, completely bald, fangs extended and right up against the glass. It snarled and hissed as it reached up with its hands and placed its palms against the glass. Caitlin could see its long, yellow fingernails.
There was another sudden noise, and Caitlin turned and saw the face of another vampire at the side window.
There was the sound of breaking glass, and she turned and in the other direction saw yet another face. This one smashed his head right to the glass, sneering at her.
Suddenly, her house was filled with the sound of breaking glass. Caitlin ran through the house, and everywhere she looked, the walls were different than she remembered. Now they were all made of glass windows, and everywhere she looked, drapes were being pulled back and windows shattered, as vampire after vampire stuck its head through.
Caitlin ran from room to room, to the front door, trying to get away, as more and more windows shattered.
She reached the front door and yanked it open—and stopped in her tracks.
Standing there, facing her, a deadly look in her eyes, was Scarlet. She glared back at Caitlin, looking more dead than alive, stark white, and with a fierce look that wanted to kill. Even more shocking, behind her stood an army of vampires—thousands of them. All waiting to follow her, to rush into Caitlin's house.
"Scarlet?" she asked, hearing the fear in her own voice.
But before she could react, Scarlet grimaced, leaned back, and pounced on Caitlin, her fangs aiming right for her throat.
Caitlin woke screaming, sitting up in her chair. She reached for her throat, rubbing it with one hand, while with her other hand, she tried to push Scarlet off.
"Caitlin? You OK?"
After several seconds, Caitlin calmed down and looked up and realized it wasn't Scarlet. It was Sam. At first, she was confused. Then she realized, with tremendous relief, that she had been sleeping. It was just a nightmare.
Caitlin sat there, breathing hard. Standing over her were Sam, one hand on her shoulder, looking concerned, and Polly. The lamps were on, and she saw it was dark out. She glanced at the grandfather clock and saw it was after midnight. She must have fallen asleep in the chair.
"You okay?" Sam asked again.
Now Caitlin was embarrassed. She sat up, wiping her forehead.
"Sorry to wake you, but it seemed like you were having a bad dream," Polly added.
Caitlin slowly stood, pacing, trying to shake off the awful vision of the dream. It had felt so real, she could almost still feel the pain in her throat where she had been bitten by her own daughter.
But it was just a dream. She had to keep telling herself that. Just a dream.
"Where's Caleb?" she asked, remembering. "Have you heard anything? How did the calls go?"
The expressions on Sam's and Polly's faces told her all she needed to know.
"Caleb's still out there looking," Sam said. "I called it quits about an hour ago. It's pretty late. But we wanted to keep you company until he got home."
"I called all her friends," Polly chimed in. "Every single one. I got through to most of them. No one has seen or heard anything. They were all as surprised as we were. I even got through to Blake. But he said he hasn't heard a word from her. I'm so sorry."
Caitlin rubbed her face, trying to shake off the cobwebs. She had hoped to wake to find that none of this was real. That Scarlet was back, home, safe. That life had gone back to normal. But seeing Sam and Polly standing there, in her house, after midnight, looking so concerned, brought it all back. It was all real. Too real. Scarlet was missing. And might not ever come back.
The realization struck Caitlin like a knife. She could barely breathe at the thought of it. Scarlet, her only daughter. The person she loved most in life. She couldn't possibly imagine life without her. She wanted to run out there, down every street, to scream and yell at the unfairness of it all. But she knew it would be useless. She just had to sit here, and wait.
Suddenly, there was a noise at the door. The three of them jumped up and looked, hoping. Caitlin ran to it, praying to see the familiar face of her teenage daughter.
But her heart fell to see it was just Caleb. Returning home—and with a grim expression on his face. The sight of it made her heart drop further. He had clearly been unsuccessful.
She knew it was useless, but she asked anyway: "Anything?"
Caleb looked to the floor as he shook his head. He looked like a broken man.
Sam and Polly exchanged a look, then came over to Caitlin and each gave her a hug.
"I'll be back first thing in the morning," Caitlin said. "Call me if you hear anything. Even if it's the middle of the night. Promise?"
Caitlin nodded back, too overwhelmed to speak. She felt Polly hug her, and hugged her back, then hugged her little brother.
"I love you, sis," he said over her shoulder. "Hang in there. She'll be okay."
Caitlin wiped away tears and watched Sam and Polly walk out the door.
Now, it was just her and Caleb. Usually, she'd be thrilled to be alone with him—but after their fight, she felt nervous. Caleb, she could see, was lost in his own world of misery and regret; she also sensed he was still mad at her for voicing her theories to the police.
It was all too much for Caitlin to bear. She realized she'd been holding out hope for Caleb's return, a shred of optimism that he would waltz in and announce something, some good news. But to see him returning like this, with nothing, nothing at all, just brought it all home for her. Scarlet had been gone all day. Nobody knew where she was. It was after midnight and she hadn't come home. She knew what a bad sign that was. She didn't even want to entertain the possibilities, but she knew it was very, very bad.
"I'm going to bed," Caleb announced, as he turned and strutted up the steps.
Caleb always said "good night," always asked her to come to bed with him. In fact, Caitlin could not remember a night they had not gone to bed together.
Now, he didn't even ask.
Caitlin went back to her chair in the living room, and sat there, listening to his boots climb the steps, hearing their bedroom door close behind him. It was the loneliest sound she'd ever heard.
She burst into tears, and she cried for she didn't know how long. Eventually she curled up into a ball, crying into the pillow. She vaguely remembered Ruth coming up to her, trying to lick her face; but it was all just a blur, because soon, her body racked with sobs, she fell into a deep and fitful sleep.