Chapter One - part IV

[thestrangeaeons]

As she pushed through the entrance a girl screamed, her voice thin and piercing with shock. Totally unnerved now, Juliet hurried down the stoop and sprinted across the parking lot. Because of the bystanders blocking her view, Juliet could not immediately make out the source of the panic. More people had gathered now, milling about the hedges, aimless as gas molecules.

“Oh shit,” another girl moaned. “Oh shit that’s blood. Oh shit–” She turned, fumbling, and pushed her way from the group, and Juliet was able to see what she’d seen.



There was blood; a Nile river of blood, to be accurate. Juliet’s stomach clenched, and she half-turned away, unable to keep looking. It wasn’t the sight of the blood that upset her, but the knowledge that it had come from the prostrate body protruding halfway from under the hedges.

She didn’t recognize the dead man, but to be fair, it wouldn’t be easy to. His face had been obliterated, ripped to shreds; bone was clearly visible where his cheeks had once been. Dear God, there were even furrows scored across the bone itself. Whatever had– had been at him had been possessed of terrible strong claws to do such damage.

His face was the worst, but the rest of his body was little better. His attacker had slashed him open from clavicle to lower stomach, flaying off skin in meaty ribbons in the process. The other side of him was still tucked under the hedges, but most likely it was in the same shape as the rest of him. Juliet found she was perfectly all right with not knowing for sure.



“Police?” She tried to yell it, but her voice refused to cooperate, and she managed only a choked whisper. “Has someone called the police?”

Her questions went unheard in the general stew of noise. She repeated them to the world at large, and then again, panic creeping into her voice. By now she’d stopped thinking about what she was saying, but the act of asking was steadying, keeping her from losing it entirely. It was easier to focus on what she was doing, rather than why.

Someone touched her arm; she bit half through her tongue to keep the scream inside, and turned in the direction of the touch. Valerie, her face stark white with shock, the hollows beneath her eyes almost blue. Juliet realized she must look very similar.



“Juliet–” Valerie said, and faltered. She tried again, but couldn’t seem to find the words. Juliet couldn’t blame her. There didn’t seem to be words enough to express the depth of her horror.

She’d seen bodies before, on television. In this age, who hadn’t? Seeing one, smelling one, in person, was quite a different matter. Black feathered the edges of her vision; the world swayed. Vaguely she realized she was swooning. Her knees buckled.

Desperately, she sunk her teeth into her lower lip. Sharp pain blossomed there, but her vision cleared. Blinking, she glanced around for Valerie. Her friend had moved off to one side and was dialing her cell phone with trembling fingers, presumably for the police. Valerie was level-headed enough to be counted on to do so.



Reassured somewhat, Juliet took a few steps away from the crush and let herself drop to the asphalt ground. She put her head on her knees and took several deep, shaky breaths. Gradually, she felt a semblance of calm returning to her.

A shadow fell over her. A human’s shadow, from what she could tell. She couldn’t make herself care enough to look up. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the newcomer drop into a crouch beside her. “Hey,” an unfamiliar voice said. “You all right?”



In spite of herself, she snorted. “Do I look all right?”

“No, but I was giving you the benefit of the doubt.” A young man. “Why don’t you get your friend and go? You don’t want to stick around for this.”

Curiosity got the better of her, and she lifted her head. “Why are you concerned about me? There’s a dead guy over there. I would think that would be more interesting.”



“Because I’m such a good Samaritan,” he replied with a straight face. “Seriously, Juliet. Your friend’s called the cops, and soon they’ll be all over this. Go on home and rest. There’s nothing you can do.”

“How do you know my name? I don’t know you.”

He shrugged. “Seen you around. Wycliffe’s not that big.”

She supposed it wasn’t hard to believe that he’d seen her, although she couldn’t recall running into him before. Wycliffe wasn’t all that big, and its college was even smaller. And he wasn’t the sort she noticed– thin, pale, sort of twitchy, scruffy hair.



She nodded, more in contemplation than agreement. He took it to mean the latter, and helped her to her feet before she’d realized he was doing it. Just then Valerie appeared at her elbow, still much too white in the face but looking less shell-shocked, and suggested they make themselves scarce. Juliet agreed without really listening. She glanced around her for the guy who’d gotten her on her feet again, and was surprised to find him gone. In the few seconds it had taken her to murmur assent to Valerie, he’d vanished.

No, not vanished; made his way to the crowd around the corpse. Juliet shuddered, unable to understand why anyone would want to get closer to such a thing. When Valerie took her by the arm and pulled her toward the sidewalk, she went without a protest.