Episode Eight – The Letter

Episode Eight

The Letter

     My Dearest Angelica,

     So many years have passed between us that I worry your memory of me might be hazy at best, yet I will try to help you recall all those days we spent together. My life, as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, did not end in the famine or pestilence of Boston, nor did I truly survive those times. Like yourself, I was rescued in some way. Looking back, of course, I realize it was so far from that, it almost seems laughable.

     Not long after you and Albert left Boston, things worsened. For months, I believed Johnathan’s choice to stay was a mistake until I learned the truth. My heart breaks for you, my sister, because that is what we are—maybe not of blood, but of pure affection.

     Johnathan was the first to fall ill.

     By then, we had lost most of our possessions and were living in a one-room basement apartment. I don’t remember ever seeing anyone so violently ill. I cared for him as best I could, but my own illness had taken hold by then, and I don’t recall precisely when he died. I remember lying outside on the steps of our apartment, overwhelmed by the stench inside. The cold snow against my face—then an odd sense of peace, as if I were being lifted on an angel’s wings—until darkness swallowed me. Days turned into weeks, and I woke up in the bedroom of a large country estate.

     There is more to tell, my sweetest Angelica, so much more. But time is of the essence; they are coming to bring you here, something about a man named Alard, and your dealings with him. I was asked to write to you to assure you that The Collective only wishes to move forward and reunite the two families.

     Reminds me of our school days; you’d sneak a second dessert after lights out, and I would always find you and bring you back. Do you remember that? Do you remember how I always looked out for you?

     I’ll end the letter here— they’re eager to leave. I hope my words reach you quickly and that I’ll see your sweet face again soon. Travel fast and safely.

     All my love, sister.

     Mrs. Camilla Thornton

     I folded the letter and put it back in its envelope before undressing and slipping between the cool sheets of my crypt.

     There was no doubt in my mind that this was truly my friend, Camilla Thornton, whose hand had penned the letter. As I read her words, I was transported back to the war and the agonizing years that followed.

     To the truth.

     To the secrets.

     And to the lies.

     Sleep didn’t come. Instead, I thought about Camilla and the days ahead. I would need to be cautious, not just for my own life and Patience’s, but also now for Camilla’s.

     But what to do?

     Not long before nightfall, it came to me. We would go with Sterling Pool and return to The Collective. We would visit my old home in Driftwood along the way, and I would send word to those who stood firmly on my side. I might be the lamb being led to slaughter, but perhaps inside, the wolf still lived.

***

     Hours later, I sat in the passenger seat of Sterling Pools’ black Escalade and watched the vein bulge on his neck.

     I glanced in the back where Patience sat, huddled to one side, her yellow-tinged face looking even worse from lack of sleep and probably fear of being eaten. As much as she insisted she could help me, and as much as I wanted to believe her, I knew in my heart of hearts that I was the one who needed to help her.

     “I can’t believe you insisted on bringing her along,” Sterling said through clenched teeth.

     “As strange as this sounds, I think I’m the only thing stopping her from drinking herself to death.” I tried to keep my voice quiet, but she probably heard me anyway.

     “And why do you care?” Sterling asked.

     I sat and reflected for a moment, watching the city lights fade in the side mirror.

     “I suppose she reminds me of myself. Lost, alone, with no one left in the world to save her.”

     “So, save her—one bite and one drink—and your little buddy back there can bask in eternal life,” Sterling said.

     I realized at first that I couldn’t respond to that or justify my feelings. As much as I loved Alard for rescuing me from starvation and illness, he still condemned me to a life of misery and pain.

     “I don’t want to condemn Patience; I just want to save her.”

     “You do realize that this could be messy, I mean, I’m not the only one out there looking for you, and The Collective isn’t expecting you to bring your human friends along for the ride,” Sterling said.

     “You let me worry about The Collective and my human friends,” I said, leaning forward and punching in a new address into the console.

     “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

     “We need to make a quick stop along the way. Don’t worry, it’s not too far off the main road. I need to pick up a few things, and I’m sure The Collective will understand,” I said. “And if they don’t, well, that’s just too damn bad now, isn’t it?”

     “Am I allowed to know where your highness wants to go, or am I just supposed to drive?” Sterling asked.

     “Home,” I said. “Where this mess all started.”

     He looked at me for a moment, and I thought he might ignore the change in plans, but as the GPS recalculated, he drove on in silence. I watched his jaw work itself, and I thought that if things had been different, it would have been nice to get to know him.

     I glanced back at Patience.

     “I hope you don’t mind a quick stop along the way. I need to pick up a few things. You should get some sleep; you look like hell.”

     “Thanks, good to know. No worries about the pit stop,” she said, her eyes growing heavy with sleep. “I’m in no rush to meet any of his friends anyway.” 

     I had to admit I wasn’t either. I watched her for a while, my gaze occasionally drifting to the car behind us. The car seemed to be heading in the same direction as we were. My only question was whether they were friends of Sterling’s or of mine.

     I thought a girl like me could use some friends as I turned back around and settled into my seat—a lot more.

     The city’s hustle faded into the long, dark stretches of highway, broken up only by the occasional street lamp. The darkened world zoomed past us, with the stars holding steady above. I could hear the soft, even breathing of my friend as she slept, leaned against the window, holding my overnight bag that she had borrowed, along with some of my clothes, before we left.

     My eyes flicked to the side mirror and the car behind us once more. It would have been obvious to anyone paying even a little attention that we were being followed. I wondered if Sterling had noticed it and chose not to mention it to keep the peace, or if he knew it had been there all along.

     It didn’t really matter. I would face the world around me as I always had, as it came. The ghosts of the past and the monsters that fed on them would never be in short supply, but maybe now, at least, I could confront them on my own terms.