Resurrected by Morgan Rice
Caitlin’s heart stopped. As she turned the page, she saw that the next page in the book, the one with the ceremony on it, was torn in half. She could not believe it. Half of the page sat loose in the book, between the pages, displaying only part of the Latin ceremony. The other half of the page was missing.
Caitlin turned all of the pages in the book frantically; she hung the book hung upside down, shaking it. But, to her dismay, the other half was just not there.
No, she thought. Not now. Not when she was this close. It wasn’t fair.
Caitlin sat there, her heart pounding, wondering what to do. She immediately pulled out her keyboard, went online, typed in the name of the volume, and searched for any other copies of it.
Of course, there were none. It said this was a rare book, on loan, from England. As she searched the internet, it confirmed her worst fears: this was the only copy of the book in existence.
How could it be? Why was the page torn in half? Who had torn it? When? And why? Was it centuries ago? Was it a vampire, or some dark force, that didn’t want this ritual to get out?
Caitlin felt struck with the urgency of time. The ritual only worked before the vampire’s first kill.
Had Scarlet killed anyone yet? How much time did Caitlin have before she did? Was it already too late?
Caitlin extracted the loose, torn page from the book, and held it in her hands. She stared at it, knowing that she couldn’t let this go. She had to find the other half. She felt guilty, holding it there like that, with both her hands, out in the open, when every instinct in her, a rare book scholar, told her that the page should be protected, inserted back into the book it came from. But she couldn’t help it. Scarlet’s life was at stake here.
As she held the page, she realized she could not let it go. She had to steal this page, take it with her, out of the library, and then do whatever she could to find the other half.
“Caitlin?” came a voice.
Caitlin jumped in her chair, quickly hiding the page, and spun around. Over her stood Mrs.
Gardiner, the old woman who oversaw the library, short, with gray puffy hair and glasses. She looked down at her, expressionless, as she held a bunch of books in her arm.
“I didn’t know you had come in today,” she said, disapprovingly.
As Caitlin looked up at her, she could have sworn she saw her glancing at the books on her desk, at all the titles—and even, possibly, at the loose page on her desk. Her heart pounded. She felt like a criminal.
“Um…yes…I…um…came in early,” she said, thinking quickly. “I wanted to catch up on work.” Mrs. Gardiner was definitely looking at the titles on her desk, and she saw her eyes widen in surprise.
“Is that one of our display window titles?” she asked, surprised.
Caitlin quickly turned and picked up the book, flustered, not knowing what to say. She had to think quick.
“Um…yes it is,” she said. “There were some occult titles I had to catalog, and I…um…wanted context in knowing how best to classify them...so I thought I’d take a look at everything we had on the subject.”
It was a lame excuse, and she hoped Mrs. Gardiner bought it.
Mrs. Gardiner stood there, pausing for a moment, and Caitlin felt a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck. She had never been in this position before, feeling like a criminal. Of course, she’d never thought about stealing a book, not in her entire career.
“Well, I trust you will put it all back when you’re through,” Ms. Gardner said, then nodded curtly and walked on.
Caitlin breathed a sigh of relief. It was a close call.
Caitlin turned, grabbed the loose page from her desk, looked both ways, and made sure no one was looking. She looked up at the ceiling, at the hidden cameras. She knew she was being recorded, so she conspicuously put the loose page back in the book she found it in.
She walked the book down the hall, back towards the stack, went to a place where she knew there was a blind spot from the cameras, then quickly slipped the page out of the book and into a manila folder she had brought with her. She then put the book away, and slid the manila folder into her bag.
Without waiting another second, Caitlin marched down the corridor, down the sleek-white steps, and across the lobby. She looked straight ahead as she went for the front doors, not daring to look at her colleagues, her heart pounding as she felt like she was walking out of a bank with a rare jewel.
She stepped outside with a breath of relief. She hurried to her car, and sat there, breathing deeply. She thought about her next move. She knew who she needed to talk to. Aiden. If there was anyone in the world who would know where to find the missing page, it would be him.
But she still couldn’t bring herself to call him. She thought again of his words, of stopping Scarlet, and something inside her would not allow her to speak to him.
Instead, she had an idea. If vampires were real, if her journal was real, then all those places she mentioned in her journal had to be real, too. And some of those were in New York. Like the Cloisters. If everything she had written was true, then she should find something there, some evidence, some validation, some trace of her being there. Some trace that vampires had existed.
Maybe even a clue, or a lead. Maybe it would even show her where to go next.
Without another thought, Caitlin tore out of the parking lot, heading for New York City. She was determined not to return home until she found the proof she needed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Scarlet walked with Blake and his three buddies, Vivian and her two friends, across the acres of fields belonging to their high school. She trailed behind. The small group was heading down to the woods, and as they walked, all laughing, jostling each other, as if the closest of friends, Scarlet couldn’t help but feel left out. She was beginning to think this was a bad idea.
Vivian clutched hard to Blake, practically sticking to him like a magnet as they walked, and her two friends constantly giggled and whispered in her ear, clearly trying to make Scarlet feel left out.
Blake’s buddies weren’t doing much better, jostling amongst themselves, or trying to talk to Vivian’s friends.
Blake himself was the biggest disappointment. He walked with Vivian as if she were the one he’d invited, allowing her to clutch his arm as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Scarlet was confused.
After all, Blake had asked her to go. Was he that afraid of upsetting Vivian? Was he too weak to resist her? Or was he genuinely changing his mind, and starting to have feelings for Vivian instead?
Scarlet’s apprehension grew as the reality sank in of her cutting class, missing her last two classes of the day—and an important quiz—to be with this group. Had she made a mistake? Her entire reason for going was to be with Blake—and he hardly seemed to even care. He only looked back over his shoulder for her once or twice. With every step, Scarlet felt increasingly left out. But it was too late to turn back now: they were far from school, and had already entered a trail in the woods, which she was unfamiliar with. She followed them as they twisted and turned down the narrow path, feeling increasingly dependent on them to get back.
Finally, the trail ended and led out to the edge of a small, blue lake. Beautiful trees surrounded the water, and their foliage was strewn all around the shore, bright leaves floating in the water. The sight took Scarlet’s breath away: it was beautiful down here. She’d been here once before, and remembered it as a favorite place for kids to escape to on weekends. She had never been down here during a school day, though, and it was weird now, quiet and empty. It felt wrong to be here. She felt she should be back in class.
The group found a spot on the shore, close to the water, and they all took makeshift seats on various logs, stumps, and boulders. They sat in a loose circle. Scarlet went to sit beside Blake, but Vivian directed him to a small log, just big enough to hold the two of them, and Scarlet had to sit on the other side of him, on a rock, a few feet away. Blake looked over at her, and she could
A cool breeze swept in off the lake, and Scarlet hugged her green, fall jacket tightly around her chest, starting to feel cold. She felt shaky, but didn’t know if it was from the weather, or from feeling so left out, so nervous to be with this crowd who she barely knew. She wondered how she got herself into this mess to begin with. She should have listened to Maria. She shouldn’t have come. A part of her just wanted to get up and leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to.
One of Blake’s friends skimmed rocks along the lake. Another reached into his jacket pocket and started rolling up small pieces of paper.
Scarlet blinked, shocked to see that he was rolling up a joint. Pot. She couldn’t believe it. It was Richard, Blake’s best friend, also on the football team, short and stocky, with bright blonde hair.
She’d always known that he was trouble, but didn’t suspect he’d be smoking pot, especially during a school day.
In moments he had a joint rolled and lit; he took a deep hit and then, to Scarlet’s dread, he passed it around. Blake’s other buddy, another football player, took it and inhaled deeply. He coughed as he did, and Vivian’s friends erupted in sharp, mocking laughter. He turned red, embarrassed, but then inhaled again, determined, and managed to hold it this time.
He passed it along, continuing around the circle, counter-clockwise.
Scarlet’s heart started to pound as she realized the joint was being passed around and would head her way. Everyone else was inhaling it. She was the last person in the circle, and knew that it would come her way—and that Blake would be the one to hand it to her.
She felt more disappointed than ever. She hated peer pressure, had never smoked pot before, and didn’t intend on starting now. Sure, a few times she had sipped some beers or wine coolers at a party. But that was about it. That was where she drew the line.
But as everyone passed it around the circle, she felt more and more pressure. If she was the only one to say no, she would be so conspicuous, would look like a goody-goody. Which she didn’t want to look like in front of Blake. She was torn.
The joint reached Vivian, who sucked on it for an extra-long time, filling her lungs. She then turned, grabbed Blake by the back of his head, leaned in, put her lips on his, and blew into his mouth.
The small group oohed and ahhed as she did.
Blake was clearly surprised, caught off guard. But again, he didn’t try to pull away. He let her do it, inhaled, then coughed it out.
Scarlet watched in shock and disgust. She had never guessed Vivian would be that aggressive—
and she had never guessed Blake would be that cruel, to allow her to kiss him like that, right in front of her. She felt more snubbed than ever.
As Blake reached over and held out the joint to her, Scarlet just sat there, staring at it, in shock.
She hardly knew what to do. Either Blake was really into Vivian, or he didn’t have the guts to show it to everyone. Including himself.
For the first time, Scarlet stopped wanting Blake. She just didn’t care anymore. For the first time, she realized she was better than all this. She didn’t need to take this kind of treatment from him.
“What’s the matter—you chicken?” mocked one of Vivian’s friends.
“Bac-bac-bac-bac-bac!” another one of Vivian’s friends said, making chicken noises.
Scarlet had enough. She rose, turned, and walked away from the group, heading back towards the forest.
“Goody-goody!” screamed one of Blake’s buddies.
“Loser!” screamed one of Vivian’s friends.
“Let her go,” Vivian yelled out. “She’s just a waste of space anyway.” Scarlet felt herself tearing up as she hurried away from the group, back towards the forest trail.
She was so mad at herself for agreeing to come.
“Scarlet!” came Blake’s voice.
He yelled out after her, and she heard the regret in his voice.
But she didn’t care anymore. It was too late.
She hurried into the forest trail, breaking into a jog as she ran farther and farther away, wiping tears. Behind her, she heard a rustling of leaves, getting closer. She already sensed who it was: Blake.
“Scarlet, please!” he yelled out.
She could hardly believe it: he had left the group, and was running after her.
Soon he caught up to her, cut her off, and she had no choice but to stop. She was now crying, and she looked down, wiping away her tears, as he stood across from her, holding her shoulder. She turned her head, looking away from him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really didn’t mean for it to go down like that.”
“Why did you leave?” she snapped back. “You like Vivian. It’s obvious. Why did you even ask me to come?”
“I don’t like her,” he answered.
“Then you shouldn’t have let her kiss you,” she snapped back. “Especially in front of me.” For once, Scarlet was standing up for herself, saying what she felt and believed, and it felt good.
She no longer felt afraid to voice her feelings. Even to Blake.
It was Blake’s turn to look down. She could see the regret in his face.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
“Whatever,” she said, looking away. “We’re just different people. We’re into different things. I’m sorry, but I don’t cut school. I don’t get high. It’s just not me. I think you’re better off with her.”
“But it’s not me either,” he pleaded back, his face softening. “It’s really not,” he continued.
“I…I guess…I was just…trying to impress you.”
“Impress me?” she asked, dumbfounded.
“Show you how cool I was. Cutting school, smoking, all that. I’m sorry. It was stupid.” She looked at him, and could see his sincerity. It made her wonder. Was he really being sincere?
She felt that he was. He had been trying to impress her.
She thought about that, and for the first time it dawned on her: that meant he liked her. He really liked her. Her. Scarlet. Not Vivian.
“Can we start over?” he asked. “Just you and me?”
She stared at him, debating. A fall breeze blew up a bunch of leaves by their feet, and he reached out for her hand.
“I know a great spot. Down by the river. Just the two of us. Without my friends. And without Vivian. You’re the one I want to be with. Please. Can I try again?” He was smiling.
Slowly, she broke into a smile, too. She couldn’t help it. This time, it felt right.
She reached out and took his hand, and it fit perfectly in hers.
They headed off down the trail, sloping towards the river. He clasped her fingers between his, and she found herself clasping his back.
Despite herself, she found herself hopeful once again.
*
Scarlet and Blake walked through the forest trail, thick with leaves, down the gentle slope, heading through the trails towards the river. As they went, the wind picked up, blowing scores of leaves off the trees. They showered down all around them and as they hit the late afternoon sun, all the different colors lit up brilliantly. It was magical.
Blake held her hand the entire time, and Scarlet felt as if she were walking into a fantasy, a fairy tale. She felt her heart warm with each step, felt herself filling with newfound feelings for Blake, with hope for their relationship. She was feeling good about them again, just as she had that night they went to the movie. Vivian was slowly becoming a distant memory.
Scarlet smiled to herself, as she thought of what her reaction must be right now, sitting around the lake with her friends and Blake’s friends, probably waiting for Blake to come back. It probably really peeved her to see him run off after Scarlet.
Finally, Scarlet thought. A small victory.
Deep down, though, Scarlet knew that Vivian, being as vindictive and spiteful as she was, would not let this go so easily. She fel
Scarlet forced herself to snap out of it. Now wasn’t the time to think of Vivian, or of any stress that might come later. Now was the time to live in the moment, to enjoy her time with Blake.
Finally, she had what she wanted.
“I know a great spot,” Blake said, reading her mind just as she started to wonder where at the riverbank they were going. It broke the long silence between them. “I think you’ll really like it.” Scarlet sensed that she would. The further they walked, the more she felt it was just the two of them, the last ones left in the world, leaving everything, all their worries, behind. School, teachers, homework, friends, parents…it all faded with every step they took.
The trees opened up, and Scarlet stood there and paused, amazed by the view. They were at the top of a small hill, covered in knee-high grass and wildflowers, sparkling in the late afternoon sun. In the distance, just beyond it, was the Hudson River. In all her years here, Scarlet had never seen it look so beautiful as it did from this spot, as she looked down on it, with a sweeping view of the trees on both sides of it, of the mountains on the horizon. Scattered clouds filled the sky, and a slow tugboat made its way down the middle of the immense river. She felt as if she’d stepped into a postcard.
Blake tugged on her hand, and they continued down a small, worn path through the flowers, under the open sky, heading closer to the shore. They reached a set of train tracks, about twenty feet away from the river. She stopped, looking both ways, then down at the rails.