Daybreak

A modern novel about a 19 year-old girl who encounters vampires while home for the summer.

1.            When the alarm went off at 4:30 AM, I reached for it so abruptly that I knocked the clock off my nightstand. It tumbld to the floor with a crash and continued beeping in its obnoxious, mchanical way. I rolled off my bed and fumbled in the dark for the clock, finally located it and switching it off after several failed attempts. My cat, Jinx, had entered at the room as soon as he sensed movement there. His black fur was barely discernible in the dark, but his green eyes glowed eerily. He rubbed against my side in that silph-like way that cats have, and I shoved him off.

            “Scram, Jinx.”

            I managed to navigate my way across the cluttered room in the darkness. In an act of rare foresight, I’d laid out my running gear before going to bed. A light from the street shone through the open window, providing just enough light for me to pull on my sports bra, shorts, and tank. I slipped my feet into my worn running shoes. They were still damp from the flash rainstorm I’d gotten caught in the day before. The moisture would be refreshing in the summer heat, though, which infiltrated even the precious hours before sunrise. I laced up my shoes and grabbed my iPod off my dresser.

            I slipped quietly downstairs, careful not to wake either of my parents, who wouldn’t be getting up for another two hours, in time for the morning commute. Downstairs, I grabbed my house-key off the front table. Jinx had followed me to the front hall, and he kept getting caught up around my ankles. I had to be extra careful not to trip over him, but I made it to the front door and shut it quickly behind me. As I locked the door from the outside, I saw Jinx staring at me out of the narrow vertical window running the length of the door. I thought, not for the first time, that that cat was especially strange. He kind of gave me the creeps.

            I set off down the driveway and hung a sharp right. Although the air was cool at this hour, I could already feel the humidity that hung upon it like a threat. A sprinkler started up on a lawn as I ran past, and I had to skirt quickly to the left to avoid getting soaked. Birdsong filled the air, a counterpoint to the whir of sprinklers. I ran underneath a streetlight that hummed with electricity.

            I hopped up onto the sidewalk as I turned onto a main road. The early morning commuters had yet to leave their houses, so the streets were silent. It was incredibly peaceful, and I breathed in the scent of flowers and dew. These were the first, magical moments that I treasured. This was why I dragged myself from the warm cocoon of my bed at 4:30 in the morning. It was this sense of being fully alive in a sleeping city, of the energy and strength of my body.

            I was approaching a steep hill, which took me past one of the elementary schools. I adjusted and lengthened my stride. The music in my headphones was set on the quietest setting. It was a soft, dreamy track. I liked to start out with those, and then work my way up to the more pulse-pounding beats.

            I had come to an intersection, and I pulled up to a jog. The street was devoid of cars, but I checked anyway before heading into the intersection. As I scanned the street to my right, a moving figure in the dark caught my attention. I squinted my eyes to better make it out, already feeling the surge of adrenaline spreading out through my limbs. There was always a latent fear to these early morning runs, particularly before the sun came up. It was both what I loved and hated the most; the extra adrenaline helped me to clock some pretty fast runs, even as I was cognizant of the potential danger.

            I was halfway across the intersection when a hoarse male voice split the night.

            “Hurry up, man! C’mon!”

            I felt like I suppose a doe must when she hears a gunshot. My head snapped reflexively to the shapes moving in the dark, even as I picked up my pace to reach the opposite side of the intersection. There were two of them. The one closest to me " not twenty feet away " was wearing a white wife-beater that seemed to luminesce in the darkness.

            I am afflicted by an insanely active imagination, so within seconds I was conjuring all sorts of scenarios that would land two men on the street before dawn, in a hurry to get (or get away from?) somewhere. For instance, they could be fleeing the scene of a crime, a theft or worse. Maybe they had been stalking a particular commuter for weeks and were in a rush to get to the site where they knew she would be, so as to complete their premeditated abduction.

            Without fully realizing it, I’d been progressively picking up speed. Even though I’d barely skimmed the surface of the eight miles I had planned, my breath was already coming out ragged from a mixture of exertion and fear. I threw a quick glance over my shoulder. I’d put a fair amount of distance between myself and the two men, but I could see the white tank top bobbing down the street behind me. It looked suspiciously like he and his partner were taking the same route that I was, and the thought sent a chilly sensation down my spine.

            Really though, what were they doing out at this hour? It made no sense. I saw no briefcase, nothing whatsoever to indicate they were on their way to work. Not that one necessarily needed to take a briefcase to work… that was just my biased perspective as the daughter of two Manhattan lawyers. But, no, they couldn’t be commuters, because who wears a wife-beater to work? Lawn-workers? But don’t they usually travel around in vans?

            My thoughts were coming too quickly, my heart pounding in my chest. My fingers flew to the iPod strapped to my left upper arm, and I clicked it off swiftly, simultaneously ripping the ear-buds from my ears. Now all I heard was the rhythmic thud of my sneakers striking the pavement, and the rasp of my breath. I stole another glance behind me, and to my increasing horror I saw that the men were still on my tail.

            I clenched my hands into fists and urged myself not to panic. My parents knew that I was out running this morning, so even if I were… even if I were abducted… they would figure it out within a couple hours. S**t, what was I thinking? If these men were coming after me, I might not be alive in a couple hours, let alone waiting to be picked up conveniently by the police.

            This was absurd. Just because two men were prowling " no, not prowling, walking " the streets before dawn, it did not necessarily mean they were looking to kidnap young women running alone. Oh please, I thought, if only I make it safely through this run, I will never again set out before sunrise. I swore it.

            I was momentarily comforted by the slight lilac tinge of the eastern sky. It never failed to amaze me how rapidly the sun comes up. If I could only make it through another fifteen minutes, I’d be able to relax. Nothing was ever as frightening in daylight.

            I’d reached the point in my route that took me along a nice trail bisecting several neighborhoods. I thought of the dense undergrowth and looming trees along the trail, which I knew were perfect for concealment. Given my present heightened state of nervousness, I considered skipping the trail for today. My heart-rate had barely fallen from my scare involving the two men behind me (who I’d now passed out of sight-range from, thank goodness), and I was not sure that I was really up for a harrowing two miles through the park.

            The trouble was, my foresight from the previous night had not extended to coming up with an alternate route on the Internet mapping tool I used. I could always fake it, but then I wouldn’t know what my mileage was, and I’m far too neurotic for that. Adding to my desire to be especially precise about my mileage today is the fact that I have a big race coming up in two weeks, one that I’ve been training for for months. I don’t want to screw up my training now….

            I swallow down the tight knot of fear that has lodged itself in my throat, and turn into the park. In a concession to my fear, I wrapped the cord of my ear-buds around my iPod and clutched it in my hand, figuring that I’d at least be safer if I wasn’t not distracted by my own personal soundtrack.

            A couple minutes in the park and I’m already feeling much calmer, having decided that whatever those two men were up to earlier, it had nothing at all to do with me. I glance periodically at the path behind me to ensure that they haven’t followed me into the park, nonetheless. But the park is silent, my only company the birds calling from their nests and a couple stray squirrels and chipmunks who race across the path in front of me from time to time.

            I was really hitting my stride now, which for me was the best feeling in the world. My senses were heightened because, in the back of my mind, I was thinking of the two men and the string of murders that my parents never ceased to remind me of whenever I mentioned I was going out for a run. But it was difficult to be concerned, feeling on top of the world and powerful as I did just then.

            And even as I thought how perfectly wonderful I felt just now, an ear-splitting howl pulled me up short.

            The men shouting at the intersection hadn’t caused me to literally stop in my tracks. Sure, it had startled and frightened me, but it was not so unexpected a sound that my legs had simply ground to a halt beneath me. But such was this sound " fierce, animalistic, and yet unlike anything I’d ever heard " that I found myself frozen in terror, right in the middle of the path.

            For a moment, there was silence. I didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. My eyes darted from side to side, searching for the source of the howl. I considered, briefly, that maybe it had been a coyote or a raccoon. But, no, I’d heard both those animals before, and neither of them was quite so high-pitched. Neither made my blood curdle.

            I tensed up all over again as a second call pierced the night. This one was deeper, though, and more akin to a growl. I became acutely aware of the cathedral-like canopy of branches overhead, which seemed to close in on me and block out any hint of daybreak.

            Abruptly, movement returned to my limbs, if not my rational control over them. Without quite thinking about it, I skittered to the side of the path, off of the gravel, and crouched low to the ground. After several drawn-out seconds had passed by without any repeat of the animalistic noises, I began to feel incredibly silly. Here I was, crouching at the side of the path like some foolish child playing at make-believe. I was no doubt over-reacting. What I’d heard was bizarre, but it was probably just a couple raccoons battling it out over turf. I tried to brush off my foolishness as being the result of lingering nervousness from hearing those men at the intersection.

            I was just about to get up and continued on my way through the park when I heard what was undeniably the sound of foot-falls along the path. And they were moving fast. I listened for another moment to ascertain they were headed in my direction, which they were. It sounded like more than one runner, too.

            I feel the need to justify what I did next, because it was, on the face of it, patently ridiculous. But I was not acting rationally at this moment. Every little bump in the dark caused me to jump out of my skin. It was the combination of my mother’s warnings, and the two men at the intersection, and those chilling howls in the night. At any rate, after listening to the footfalls for a couple seconds, I turned around, still in a crouch, and crawled on all fours into the thick undergrowth. I felt like an idiot the entire time, but more than that I felt terrified for my life. It was inexplicable, the fear I felt. I’m not one for spiders or creepie-crawlers, and so usually I avoid dirt and brambles, but I didn’t think of that once as I pushed past spider webs until I found a place where I could hide among the bushes.

            I was panting hard, but I clamped one hand tightly over my mouth because I had an inexplicable terror of being heard. On top of that, I would be mortified if it turned out to be a couple innocent early-morning runners who noticed me hiding out like a total creep along the path.

            From within the undergrowth, I could look out onto the path, and although my view was obstructed by leaves, it was serviceable. I had managed to hide myself away just in time, because it sounded like the foot-falls were just about upon me. I fought the urge to burrow deeper within the bushes.

            Sure enough, I caught sight of a pair of legs within a moment or two, racing past me along the path. For the third time, I heard that animalistic call, and then there was a second pair of legs. It looked like the first runner came to an abrupt halt, and then there was a whoosh-ing sound and a loud crash, accompanied by a groan.

            Whatever doubts I had had as to the logic of my hiding were erased in that very instant. I was anxious to see what had happened beyond my hiding place, and I extended my legs very slightly from my crouching position. They cramped painfully, but I was too stunned by what I saw to pay any attention to that.

            I had been right about there being two runners, only now I doubted very much that these were two people out for a jog. One of the trees on the opposite side of the path had been toppled about three feet above its base. I had to suppress a gasp. What could have caused that damage? It had sounded like something was thrown threw the air, presumably landing into the tree " that’s what had caused the crash. Where the tree had been broken, the wood stuck up in jagged fragments that pointed skyward. The fallen half of the tree lay across the path.

            I heard a faint moan, which sounded like it was coming to the left of the fallen tree. I glanced in that direction, afraid of what I might see.

            It couldn’t be. It simply could not be. My free hand flew to my mouth, because I wasn’t sure I could prevent the terrified whimper from escaping my lips.

            One of the " for lack of a better word " runners was lying supine on the path. The moan was emanating from him " or her, I couldn’t tell from my vantage point. But the second runner " had he been chasing the other? " was bent over the first. Yes, the light was still hazy, but from the way his head was bent to the other’s neck… the way he was making the most horrible, bone-chilling slurping sounds… no, there was no doubt as to what I was seeing.

            He was drinking the fallen runner’s blood.

            What did this mean? What did this mean? That the slew of recent murders were the result of vampire activity? No way, it simply couldn’t be. This was ridiculous. Vampires were more than a superstition, they were a cultural touchstone. They proliferated on television, in books, and in movies, but always safely within the realm of fiction. They could be analyzed for their cultural implications and symbolic value, but only because they did not actually exist.

            Another thought popped into my head, gruesome but somehow more appealing than the notion of actual vampires. There were certain people who were convinced they they, themselves, were vampires. They drank blood and everything. It was narrowly possible that this was the very psychological phenomenon that I was witnessing now.

            “Cam, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

            The livid female voice snapped me from my frantic musings. It was coming from the right of my position.

            “This is a classic case of crime-fighter turned criminal,” the voice went on, drawing nearer. “Santoro will not approve.”

            “My apologies, Lex.” I didn’t dare turn my head for fear that the displacement of air would be enough to alert the creatures on the path to my presence. But my eyes did slide to the blood-sucker, who spoke in a tone that dripped mock obsequiousness. “I subscribe to the ‘waste not, want not’ school of thought.”

            The woman, who I assumed was Lex, scoffed.

            “Yeah, have fun explaining that to Santoro.”

            “I won’t have to, because you’re not going to tell him.”

            “Oh, really?”

            The two creatures " because I really did not know what to refer to them as at this point " proceeded to bicker. I allowed myself to breathe now, because at least they were not carefully checking their environs. While their argument continued, the person the blood-sucker " Cam, she had called him - had tackled continued to make small whimpering noises on the ground. My throat clenched: they were just going to leave someone there, half-dead? Gruesome and cruel.

            I dared to turn my head the slightest degree, to see if there was an escape route to my rear. Unfortunately, it was just more undergrowth, and I could not possibly scramble through it without alerting Cam and Lex to my presence. No, I would simply have to wait for them to leave, and then make a run for it.

            “Enough!” Lex declared loudly, and her voice was tinged with that primal growl. I felt the small hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end. “Just clear this mess. We’ve taken too long as it is.”

            What happened next astonished me completely. I could see, much more clearly now since the sun had risen considerably and lightened my surroundings, Cam rise from where he was still standing over his prey, and stride over to the ten feet or so of tree trunk fallen across the path. Then, he bent his knees, grasped the trunk, and rose to standing with nary a grunt of exertion. The tree might have been a mere twig in his hands! The psychological vampires probably couldn’t do that, so there went my little theory. He made as if to toss it back into the undergrowth, but a sharp warning from Lex halted him.

            “Careful, Cam! Are you trying to wake up the entire neighborhood?”

            Now it was Cam’s turn to scoff derisively, but he made an extravagant show of carefully placing the tree-trunk by the side of the path.

            “All right, let’s get out of here. And take the body " Santoro will want proof.”

            Cam casually slung the body over his shoulders while Lex watched, hands on hips. I thought with relief that this ordeal was just about over, that once I was sure the coast was clear I could make my escape. Maybe then I could process what I had seen. Alternately, I could attempt to forget it, which frankly seemed like the more attractive option. But just as Cam and Lex were turning to head down the path the way I had come, they stopped abruptly, in perfect unison.

            “You smell that?”

            I froze, hanging again on every word.

            “We have an audience, don’t we.”

            F**k. I was completely fucked.

            “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

            It was Lex, in a taunting, sing-song voice. I crouched lower in the undergrowth, but I could see her legs walking inexorably towards me.

            I did a two-second weighing of my options. If I stayed put, she would find me and… what? Drink my blood? Murder me? If I ran, well, judging from Cam’s tree-lifting display they would probably hunt me down easily enough, but at least I would have a small chance of escaping with my life. I could already feel the adrenaline surging in my legs. In an instant, I pushed off, the intensity of springing from the earth unsettling a couple birds nesting among the bushes. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder, just crashed through the forest that lay on this side of the path. I knew it could only be a couple dozen yards to the fence, and if I somehow managed to scale that without being caught by Lex, I would be in some unfortunate stranger’s backyard.

            It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway, but I destroyed whatever small chance I had by tripping over something " I have no idea whether it was a root, or a rock, or maybe even some small forest creature desperately fleeing my path. But regardless of what exactly caused me to fall, I found myself lying face-first on the forest-floor. My reflexes hadn’t even been quick enough to throw my hands in front of my face, and as I raised my head I coughed and spat out dirt.

            I put off the experience of opening my eyes for as long as possible, already sure of what I would find. Opening first one eye, then the other, I found myself faced with a pair of sleek dark boots. It was strange how mundane my thoughts were, faced with the creature who I fully expected to tear out my jugular with her bare teeth in the next few seconds. All I could think was, what an odd choice of footwear for a summer morning.

            When the wearer of the boots did not immediately go for my throat, I looked a little higher, out of a sort of morbid curiosity. It was probably my vantage from the ground, but she seemed unbearably tall. I raised myself to all fours, then rolled back onto my heels for a better look.

            From behind us, Cam called impatiently to his partner.

            “You catch it or what?”

            “Yeah, I caught it.”

            I can’t convey how infuriating it is to hear oneself referred to as an “it.” The instinctual aspect of me was scared witless, but it was surprising how my rational self could take issue with semantics at a time like this.

            “You going to stand up, or what?”

            This wasn’t what I was expecting. Maybe she wanted easier access to my neck. I rose to my full height, and realized that Lex’s striking height hadn’t been a mere trick of perspective. Even standing, I barely came up to her shoulder. I noted, objectively, that she was obscenely attractive. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes stared down at me with a look of boredom. Suddenly self-conscious, I brushed the leaves and dirt from my knees.

            “Follow me.”

            Astonished, I turned back to the path as Lex led the way. She moved with mercurial ease, the undergrowth seeming to part for her. By contrast, I gracelessly snared myself in every branch and every protruding thorn.

            We emerged onto the path, where Cam still stood with the drained body slung across his shoulders.

            When he caught sight of me, he sighed.

            “Well, this complicates things.”

            As I lingered uncertainly where the gravel met the grass, Lex spun on me, interrogation-style.

            “What did you see?” She demanded.

            I saw no use in pretending, having failed as a would-be actress on more than one occasion.

            “I saw him” " I nodded in Cam’s direction " “kill the other one.” I still didn’t know how to refer to the corpse.

            “I suppose you’ll want to know what we are?” Lex said, regaining the bored expression that seemed to be her modus operandi.

            I shrugged.

            “I think I have a pretty good idea already.” I couldn’t make myself say the word “vampire” aloud; it sounded too absurd, even as I was faced with the monsters themselves.

            “Right,” Lex grumbled. She seemed to consider for a moment, her eyes flicking to Cam. Then she looked back to me with an intensity that made me jump a little. “Here’s the deal: you don’t tell anyone anything about what you saw, and we’ll let you go.”

            I was stunned into speechlessness. I had just seen Cam murder someone, literally suck the life out of him or her, but they were just going to let me go with a warning?

            Evidently, Cam was as surprised as I was.

            “C’mon Lex, do you really think she’s gonna keep her mouth shut?”

            “I swear, I won’t say a word,” I countered passionately, staring intently into Lex’s eyes as if to assure her of the honesty in my own expression.

            “If you do, I’ll kill you myself,” she replied frankly. Then, addressing Cam, “The last thing we need is to contribute to the body count in this town, if we can avoid it.”

            It looked to me as if they already had made a contribution, but I kept my mouth shut and didn’t dare look over at the corpse across Cam’s shoulders, lest either of them guess at my skepticism.

            “That’s settled, then,” Lex said, looking warningly over at Cam, who still unconvinced by her reasoning. “Let’s get out of here before we run into anyone else.”

            Just before they sped off into the obscurity of the forest, leaving me dumb-struck along the path, Lex shot me a last threatening glower. She spoke in a deathly quiet whisper, an ominous missive intended only for my ears:

            “Don’t forget: one word, and you’re dead.”

Author's Note

This is a really rough draft, so please ignore grammatical errors unless it's something exceedingly subtle.

I want to know, in particular, what you think of the narrative voice. What qualities would you use to describe her? I know this is just a first chapter, but I'm eager to know if the traits I wanted her to possess are getting across to readers. Thanks!

But really, I'd appreciate ANY constructive criticism!