Cassidy watched as her sister hurled herself off of the second story and landed precisely on the back of the Vampire, but she also knew she was hurt now, and Cassidy was tired of waiting. “He’s coming this way,” she said to Christian, letting go of him and crossing her arms, hoping he didn’t notice anything as she slipped her right hand into her left pocket quickly and then recrossed her arms.
“Yes, but Elliott’s got Brandon, Hannah, Morgan, and Aurora out there now. They’ll slow him down enough for Cadence and Aaron to catch up to him,” he said, a sense of longing in his voice.
“You should go,” Cassidy urged, nodding toward the position she could see the others in, just in front of the spoke Gibbon was charging down. “You could get him. Don’t you owe him one?”
Christian ran a hand through his hair. “I do. But… your sister would be pissed if I left you.”
“Gibbon’s not coming in here. He’ll break that line and be out the door. Then, if Elliott can’t stop him, he’ll be gone. You know none of those incompetent Philly people are going to stop him.”
“True….”
He was leaving. She could see it on his face. Without even giving him a chance to officially walk out the door, she shifted her concentration toward the other part of her plan. With a deep breath, she opened her mind, and sent out the message, “Come to me! I’m like you. They won’t hurt you when you’re with me. Here, you’re safe.”
She could no longer hear what Christian was saying, something about being right back, and she vaguely watched as he unlocked the door and walked out into the hall. It was Gibbon she was concentrating on now. She had stepped past the veil, into the dark and twisted world that was the Jogging-Path-Killer-turned-Vampire’s mind, and what she saw there was not only terrifying, it was overwhelmingly sad and painful. Memories of a small boy begging a trusted adult, his own stepmother, to stop hurting him; fragments of twisted, gasping faces, slowly losing the light in their eyes; her own sister locked in a cage with him as he fought for freedom; the faces of those he’d taken while living here, those who’d gone off alone, taken two steps too far into the darkness and were devoured by it.
Cassidy continued to call to him, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Yes, he was a monster, but perhaps he had only become one because of the injustice that had happened to him. Perhaps Cassidy was just as guilty as everyone else who had judged him unfairly. Maybe this monster deserved to be left alone, to be allowed to live, to make his way into the night where he could finally be free.
* * *
Cadence watched on her IAC as Hannah and Morgan both went flying through the air. She could see Aurora trying to throw something, but whatever it was, the object was knocked out of her hand before she could activate it. Aaron was gaining on the monster, but he couldn’t take Gibbon out on his own—no one could. So, biting her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood in her mouth, she pulled herself up to crouching and then, using her right hand, she pushed herself up to standing. As Brandon went crashing into the wall above the front entryway, she felt the fire inside of her again. She would get Gibbon if it was the last thing she ever did.
She couldn’t run as quickly as she had before, so she hadn’t quite made it to the opening of the cell block when she realized Christian was standing in front of Gibbon. She could see him through Aaron’s IAC as the Leader closed in from behind Gibbon. Christian tossed an object in Gibbon’s direction, and a few seconds later, there was an explosion of dust and what looked like some sort of liquid. The toss hadn’t been quite on target, however, since Gibbon was running, and all the weapon seemed to do was keep Aaron from being able to see where he was going. A few seconds later, Gibbon crashed into Christian, and the Guardian went flying, careening into several display cases, shattering glass, and becoming buried in the rubble.
Then, Gibbon did something none of them would have ever expected. He stopped. He turned and looked at Aaron, glanced around at the carnage, and without running, took three long strides into the tiny, office-sized room just off the observatory turned museum.
Cadence had finally caught up to Aaron, and she was glad, because when she realized where Gibbon was headed, she couldn’t even scream, her voice choking in her throat, and if Aaron hadn’t caught her, she might have collapsed right then and there. Gibbon had her sister.
* * *
Steven Gibbon entered the room slowly, as if he wasn’t sure he could trust her, but Cassidy did everything she could to assure him she was his friend. She smiled but did not advance on him. She didn’t want to frighten him. Through her IAC, she could hear the team talking about what they had to do next, but she stilled them all. She was okay. She knew exactly what she needed to do.
“You’re like me?” he asked, his voice gravelly, his breath catching.
“Yes,” Cassidy nodded, baring her teeth and showing her fangs.
“Why are you with them?”
“I’m Cadence’s sister.”
His massive eyebrows furrowed, as if he didn’t know who that was. Cassidy realized it didn’t matter. “They don’t understand you,” she offered, taking a step closer.
“No.”
“They don’t know what it’s like to have the urge inside, the one you cannot quench.”
“No.” The monster took a step forward, the anger in his face beginning to melt away, his shoulders slumping.
“They do not understand why we must do what we must do.”
“No.” His eyes were large now, and if he were capable, Cassidy thought he might let a tear slip down his cheek.
“I understand, Steven. I see your pain. I know what that awful woman did to you.” She held her arms open now, and he took a few more steps closer, timidly. “Let me help you,” she urged, keeping her voice light and ethereal. “Let me protect you. I can make them understand.”
Despite the cries from her sister, from Brandon, who lay on the floor on the other side of the door, a crumpled mess, from Elliott who was asking her if she’d lost her mind, Cassidy wrapped her arms around Gibbon, her thin limbs like twigs around his massive shoulders, and the monster began to shake, as if he were crying, though no tears could come out.
“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he groaned, anguish in his voice.
“I know. I know.” She patted his back.
“I couldn’t help it,” he continued.
“None of us can,” Cassidy assured him. “None of us can help that instinct inside of us. The one that says, ‘Kill.’ We can try to fight it, but, eventually, we will give in.” Gibbon continued to vibrate against her shoulder as Cassidy let go for a moment with her left hand. “I’ll explain it to them. Everything will be just as it should be.”
“Thank you,” he said, beginning to regain his composure.
“Certainly,” she replied, as he pulled back, and Cassidy smiled up at him, trying to see Steven Gibbon for who he was before he became this terrible monster. “I have something for you,” she continued.
“For me?” he asked, surprised. “What could you possibly have for me?”
“It’s a present,” she said handing it over to him. “From the joggers.”
Gibbon’s forehead once again revealed his confusion as he looked at the object she had slipped into his hands. And as Gibbon realized what it was he was holding, Cassidy flung herself backward under the ticket counter table. She heard Gibbon let out a low groan, and then, a flash of light lit up the small space, and she began to choke on smoke. Almost instantly, Gibbon’s groan became shrieks of pain, and once the initial blast was over, Cassidy looked out to see that he was on fire, the silver liquid melting into his skin. Despite the flames, he looked at her with eyes full of betrayal, and for a second, she thought he might drag her out from under the table. But he didn’t. Instead, he hurled himself through the front ticket windows, which exploded in shards of glass, and took off toward the front of the building as fast as he could go, flames, smoke, and ashes in his wake.
