Veso
Page 71
She gasped when a second figure suddenly seemed to drop from the sky next to the first man. The sound was loud when he landed and it happened so fast, she hadn’t expected it. It was another man, his hair almost as stark white as his skin. He wore a dark t-shirt and jeans.
Jadee gripped the tablet with both hands and sank back into the seat.
The camera view changed to one showing the back of the trailer. It had double doors, just like any other big-rig trailer she’d ever seen, and a woman in a long black dress was trying to pry them apart with her bare hands. Her hair was dark, down to her ass in a ratty mess. The angle was from above, and she looked up, almost peering into the lens. Her mouth opened, revealing some gnarly, sharp-looking fangs.
“Holy fuck,” Jadee whispered. Shock kept her gaze glued to the screen.
The woman resembled something right out of a horror movie with that scary open mouth. It got worse when she bent, suddenly jumping. Her body passed the camera at least twelve feet above her, her clothes a blur. She was gone from view in a flash.
The camera feed switched back to the top of the trailer, showing all three of them on the roof. They jumped around, the sounds noisy. Their erratic, weird movements reminded Jadee of marionette dolls being jerked upright, only they didn’t have strings attached to them to leap that high. They fell hard enough that it made her wince when their feet hit metal. It should have hurt them, possible even broken their bones.
The feed changed, showing Brent’s face very close to the camera. “Did you see them? Make a run for it,” he hissed. “While they’re here.”
“Don’t! There’s only three of them here. The fourth one might be close to her.” Mark was suddenly there, tearing the other tablet out of Brent’s hands. “They run fast, damn it! It’s too quiet without the wind blowing and they might hear your engine start. Sound carries in these mountains. Just stay there until the sun rises. You’re the only hope we have.”
“Shut up!” Peggy hissed. “Listen. They stopped.”
Mark turned his head, staring at something to the side of the camera. His mouth parted. “They’re gone. I don’t see them on any of the cameras.” He looked at Jadee. “You’re locked in, right? You didn’t open the shutters?”
“You think they heard us talking to her?” Brent cursed. “Fuck!”
She abandoned the tablet on the table. Pure fear coursed through Jadee and it helped launch her to her feet, moving fast to the side door. She reached it and threw the bolts and bars that helped secure the door in place. She glanced at the windows, making certain all the security shutters were down. They were.
“Jadee!”
She returned to the table and picked up the forgotten tablet. “What?”
Brent’s eyes were wide and his gaze locked on her. “Are you locked in with the shutters down?”
“Yes.”
“Keep quiet and turn off the lights. You don’t want to draw their attention if they don’t know you’re there,” he whispered.
“She said the shutters are down. They can’t see inside if the lights are on or not,” Peggy whispered. “Just be quiet.”
Jadee didn’t move. No way was she going to turn off the lights and sit in the dark to startle at every sound. She remembered the camping trip on her twelfth birthday, when they’d told her Werewolves were coming, and her father’s team had played some recorded wolf howls. She’d damn near peed herself sitting in front of the campfire until they’d laughed, pointing out the speakers.
Then there was the time they’d left fake gold coins around her bed when she’d been eight, telling her leprechauns had visited while she slept. Saying how luck she’d been not to be carried off by them. She’d believed it until she’d realized the coins were made of chocolate, covered with foil. Other pranks they’d pulled flashed through her mind, too many. It made her think this had to be another joke. They could have put footage together of the so-called Vampires and staged the entire thing.
It had sucked being Victor Trollis’s daughter at times, thanks to her father and his team of researchers dragging her all over the world hunting for mythical creatures. It had only stopped after she’d demanded to live with her grandmother to have some semblance of normalcy.
She got a grip on her hammering heart and glared at the camera. “You guys suck. Put my dad on now. Is this payback for not driving to Arizona for his birthday two months ago? Some of us have to work real jobs instead of living off my dad’s trust fund, pursuing crazy notions of myths. How did that last trip work out for you guys, anyway? Did you find a Chupacabra? No? Big surprise!”
Something landed on the roof of the RV hard enough to make it rock. Jadee lifted her gaze, her mouth parting.
“Be quiet,” Brent breathed.
Heavy tread stomped from the kitchen area above her to the back, toward her father’s bedroom. She put the tablet down, ignoring it, and grabbed her dad’s gun.
The handle of the door she’d used to get inside rattled but the lock held. Something smashed into it, sounding very much like a fist. A deep hiss followed.
“Fuck me,” Jadee muttered. She stood, only glancing down to make sure the safety was off on the gun. “Dad? Not funny.”
The stomping ceased for a second. Whoever was up there turned around, walking back. Each footstep was loud enough for her to track despite not being able to see up there. She slid out the gun’s clip and checked the ammunition. It was loaded with real bullets, not blanks. She’d been raised around enough guns to know the difference by sight. She slid the clip back in and checked the chamber, seeing a round already loaded.
Something smashed into the glass behind one of the shutters. The sound assured her it did enough damage to probably web the safety glass. That was either a baseball bat or something equally destructive. Her father wouldn’t harm his precious Road Warrior—the title he’d dubbed his RV—for a joke. It had cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars to specially outfit it the way he’d wanted.
“Shut up!” Mark demanded, his voice coming from the forgotten tablet on the table.
She turned, glancing down to see all three of her father’s team staring at her, huddled around their camera. She reached over and found the volume, muting them as she stood in the middle of the aisle, tense.
A loud boom came from the top of the roof. In seconds, it repeated, and in her mind, she could almost imagine one of those things doing the same thing to her father’s RV that they’d done to the trailer, those freaky, weird leaps into the air only to slam down moments later. A third and fourth loud boom assured her one of them seemed to be testing the strength of the roof.
Jadee gripped the tablet with both hands and sank back into the seat.
The camera view changed to one showing the back of the trailer. It had double doors, just like any other big-rig trailer she’d ever seen, and a woman in a long black dress was trying to pry them apart with her bare hands. Her hair was dark, down to her ass in a ratty mess. The angle was from above, and she looked up, almost peering into the lens. Her mouth opened, revealing some gnarly, sharp-looking fangs.
“Holy fuck,” Jadee whispered. Shock kept her gaze glued to the screen.
The woman resembled something right out of a horror movie with that scary open mouth. It got worse when she bent, suddenly jumping. Her body passed the camera at least twelve feet above her, her clothes a blur. She was gone from view in a flash.
The camera feed switched back to the top of the trailer, showing all three of them on the roof. They jumped around, the sounds noisy. Their erratic, weird movements reminded Jadee of marionette dolls being jerked upright, only they didn’t have strings attached to them to leap that high. They fell hard enough that it made her wince when their feet hit metal. It should have hurt them, possible even broken their bones.
The feed changed, showing Brent’s face very close to the camera. “Did you see them? Make a run for it,” he hissed. “While they’re here.”
“Don’t! There’s only three of them here. The fourth one might be close to her.” Mark was suddenly there, tearing the other tablet out of Brent’s hands. “They run fast, damn it! It’s too quiet without the wind blowing and they might hear your engine start. Sound carries in these mountains. Just stay there until the sun rises. You’re the only hope we have.”
“Shut up!” Peggy hissed. “Listen. They stopped.”
Mark turned his head, staring at something to the side of the camera. His mouth parted. “They’re gone. I don’t see them on any of the cameras.” He looked at Jadee. “You’re locked in, right? You didn’t open the shutters?”
“You think they heard us talking to her?” Brent cursed. “Fuck!”
She abandoned the tablet on the table. Pure fear coursed through Jadee and it helped launch her to her feet, moving fast to the side door. She reached it and threw the bolts and bars that helped secure the door in place. She glanced at the windows, making certain all the security shutters were down. They were.
“Jadee!”
She returned to the table and picked up the forgotten tablet. “What?”
Brent’s eyes were wide and his gaze locked on her. “Are you locked in with the shutters down?”
“Yes.”
“Keep quiet and turn off the lights. You don’t want to draw their attention if they don’t know you’re there,” he whispered.
“She said the shutters are down. They can’t see inside if the lights are on or not,” Peggy whispered. “Just be quiet.”
Jadee didn’t move. No way was she going to turn off the lights and sit in the dark to startle at every sound. She remembered the camping trip on her twelfth birthday, when they’d told her Werewolves were coming, and her father’s team had played some recorded wolf howls. She’d damn near peed herself sitting in front of the campfire until they’d laughed, pointing out the speakers.
Then there was the time they’d left fake gold coins around her bed when she’d been eight, telling her leprechauns had visited while she slept. Saying how luck she’d been not to be carried off by them. She’d believed it until she’d realized the coins were made of chocolate, covered with foil. Other pranks they’d pulled flashed through her mind, too many. It made her think this had to be another joke. They could have put footage together of the so-called Vampires and staged the entire thing.
It had sucked being Victor Trollis’s daughter at times, thanks to her father and his team of researchers dragging her all over the world hunting for mythical creatures. It had only stopped after she’d demanded to live with her grandmother to have some semblance of normalcy.
She got a grip on her hammering heart and glared at the camera. “You guys suck. Put my dad on now. Is this payback for not driving to Arizona for his birthday two months ago? Some of us have to work real jobs instead of living off my dad’s trust fund, pursuing crazy notions of myths. How did that last trip work out for you guys, anyway? Did you find a Chupacabra? No? Big surprise!”
Something landed on the roof of the RV hard enough to make it rock. Jadee lifted her gaze, her mouth parting.
“Be quiet,” Brent breathed.
Heavy tread stomped from the kitchen area above her to the back, toward her father’s bedroom. She put the tablet down, ignoring it, and grabbed her dad’s gun.
The handle of the door she’d used to get inside rattled but the lock held. Something smashed into it, sounding very much like a fist. A deep hiss followed.
“Fuck me,” Jadee muttered. She stood, only glancing down to make sure the safety was off on the gun. “Dad? Not funny.”
The stomping ceased for a second. Whoever was up there turned around, walking back. Each footstep was loud enough for her to track despite not being able to see up there. She slid out the gun’s clip and checked the ammunition. It was loaded with real bullets, not blanks. She’d been raised around enough guns to know the difference by sight. She slid the clip back in and checked the chamber, seeing a round already loaded.
Something smashed into the glass behind one of the shutters. The sound assured her it did enough damage to probably web the safety glass. That was either a baseball bat or something equally destructive. Her father wouldn’t harm his precious Road Warrior—the title he’d dubbed his RV—for a joke. It had cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars to specially outfit it the way he’d wanted.
“Shut up!” Mark demanded, his voice coming from the forgotten tablet on the table.
She turned, glancing down to see all three of her father’s team staring at her, huddled around their camera. She reached over and found the volume, muting them as she stood in the middle of the aisle, tense.
A loud boom came from the top of the roof. In seconds, it repeated, and in her mind, she could almost imagine one of those things doing the same thing to her father’s RV that they’d done to the trailer, those freaky, weird leaps into the air only to slam down moments later. A third and fourth loud boom assured her one of them seemed to be testing the strength of the roof.
