Ravenous (The Ravening 1)
Page 8My mother and Aiden were constantly lecturing Abby to turn the lights back off; I remained silent on the matter. Though I never said it, I secretly liked the welcoming warmth of the lights when I came home. There had been enough darkness in our lives, I wasn’t about to tell Abby that she should keep the house dark too.
The complete absence of them now was enough to make my eyes burn.
“Cade,” I croaked, choked by the lump in my throat.
“They wouldn’t turn the lights on Bethany, not tonight.” I tried to find solace in his words, but there was none. “Come.”
He entwined his fingers with mine and led me through the trees. We moved quickly across the street before darting around to the back. For the first time I realized just how rundown my home had become. Paint was peeling off in flakes; the back porch sagged beneath the weight of years and weather.
I winced as the stairs creaked beneath my weight. My heart hammered as I twisted the knob and pushed the door cautiously open. The hinges squeaked, the kitchen floor groaned as I stepped inside. The familiar scent of my mom’s perfume, food, and scented candles washed over me. In the dim illumination I could make out the tidy kitchen counters and the outline of pictures, report cards, and magnets that covered the fridge. Plants hung in the window over the sink, dishes were stacked neatly in the dish drain.
It was my home, and for the first time it felt cold and lonely. Vacant.
I made my way cautiously through the kitchen. Though there was enough light to guide me, I moved mostly on instinct through the rooms. Cade followed as I crept cautiously up the stairs. “Mom.” I was afraid to speak too loud in the foreboding silence. “Mom.”
“Bethany.” I jumped a little, startled by the response. I had truly believed that I was never going to receive one. Cade placed a hand in the small of my back, steadying me before I crashed into the banister. “Bethy?”
“Abby?”
There was a faint shuffling noise and then my little sister appeared in the doorway of our mom’s bedroom. Relief filled me, a small cry escaped as my knees nearly gave out. And then I was moving, running, fighting back tears of joy as I grasped hold of her. At fifteen, she was only two years younger than me, but she seemed much younger. Maybe it was her far more petite, and delicate build, but I felt it had more to do with her innocent, youthful air. She was nowhere near as jaded as I was.
Her small arms wrapped around me as she sobbed against my shirt. “Oh Bethy I was so scared! I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t leave her,” she moaned.
I closed my eyes, my heart breaking as Abby confirmed that our mother hadn't been as lucky as us. I could barely breathe, but holding Abby gave me a sense of strength that I hadn’t felt until this now. I had to be strong for her; I had to keep her safe. No matter what, I had to make sure that she survived. “Aiden?”
Her coffee colored hair fell about her shoulders in a tumbling mass of long curls as she shook her head. “I don’t know, he went to see Bret earlier but he hasn’t come back.”
My hands clenched on her as I took solace in the fact that at least she was still moving, still ok. If Aiden was able to move he would come back here as soon as he could. Bret’s house was farther away than the antique store though. If he wasn’t still moving then I would find him at Bret’s, but I was in no hurry to rush out of here. Not until I saw my mom.
Abby nodded toward our mother’s bedroom, but it was obvious that she wasn't ready to return to it. She was shaking, and unlike me there were tears coursing rapidly down her face. I ached for her, she had probably spent the entire day standing guard over our mother, terrified and confused, and completely alone. I didn’t blame her for not wanting to return, she’d done enough already.
“Stay here,” I said as I squeezed her shoulder.
I moved past her as I crept into my mom’s room. The room was dark, but I saw her instantly. She was sitting on the bed with her head bowed over the papers spread out before her. Her reading glasses were in place, a pen was clasped between her lips. Her chocolate hair had been pulled into a lose bun that hung against her slender neck. The resemblance between her and Abby was unmistakable. They both had elfin features, dark hair, and a petite physique. Abby and my mother had always reminded me of delicate faeries. I often felt awkward and out of place around them due to my clumsiness and larger build, a part of me was convinced I would accidentally knock them over one day. I was slender like them, but taller than and fairer as Aiden and I had inherited our dad’s height and honey blond hair.
“Mom,” I whispered, even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good. She didn't respond, didn't even blink. I moved closer to her, shoving aside the papers as I slid onto the bed. I had seen her in this exact same position many times before, but this was the first time I'd ever felt out of place and frightened. I touched her cheek lightly, her skin was still warm, but it was cooler than it should have been. That man had still been alive, she had to be also, I hoped. “Oh mom.”
I bowed my head to hers, resting my forehead against her bent head. I was struggling not to lose complete control, not to turn into a sobbing mess, but I wasn’t sure I could keep my sanity through this whole catastrophe. I felt Cade’s presence in the room, sensed his gaze upon me before I saw him.
My hand lingered upon my mother’s cheek as I turned to him. “What do we do?” I asked.
“We survive.” They were cold words, and yet the tone that issued them was not cold. It was understanding and sympathetic. It was also resilient and unwavering. “Because we have to, because it is what she would want you to do.”
“I know.” I turned away from him, unable to form words or opinions right now. “We won’t. I have to go somewhere right now though.”
My head snapped around, my mouth dropped. I released my mom’s still hand as I limply slid off the bed and took a step toward him. “Where?” I managed to choke out.
“I have to go to my house. There are some things I have to do.”
I was confused by this sudden turn of events. I hadn’t expected him to leave us here, but of course there would be things that he would have to do, things that he would have to check on at his own home. I didn’t know where he lived anymore, or who he lived with, if anyone. He was most likely on his own now, he was eighteen after all. “Of course.”