Free The Journal of Vincent Du Maurier (Book 1) by K. P. Ambroziak Page A

plan entailed.
    “I can do it,” she said. Her feminine voice
was a stranger among the tenor of the vampires. She was brave, knowing there
was a strong chance she would not survive the escape. Byron would have never approved
of my putting her life in jeopardy this way, but I had no other option. If she
did not survive, at the very least we would.
    “This is the only way,” Veronica said.
    I could barely look at the wasted vampire when
she spoke. Her emaciated frame was frail and weak, a constant reminder of my
failure to keep them safe. For a moment, I considered feeding off the girl. If
each of us nourished ourselves on her blood, we could escape unscathed, we
could free ourselves from the deathtrap if only … if only …
    And then what
Vincent? I
heard Byron’s voice as clear as when he spoke into my thoughts. And then what? “We will try Jean’s
plan,” I said.
    I delegated their assignments and encouraged
them with my resolve. The bloodless were noisy up on the deck and we could hear
them bearing down on the hatch. By now a super swarm had most likely toppled
the rails of the sloop, and it would not be long before the deck would collapse,
if the boat did not sink altogether.
    Jean’s plan was to puncture a whole in the ship’s
stern and escape through the opening into the rush of water. The sloop would
certainly sink, but we planned on getting far enough away before it did. The
weight of our bodies would sink us, and we could walk along the bottom of the
river to the bank on the other side. We do not need to worry about holding our
breath underwater—air is inconsequential. But for the girl, time would be
of the essence. I planned to cradle her in my arms, hoping she could hold her
breath long enough.
    When Stephen and Veronica took axes to the inside
of the hull, the rest of us waited in the cabin at the bow of the ship. I held
the girl in my arms, ready for when the water rushed in. “I will tell you when
to take your last breath,” I said. She did not move, but I could feel her cling
to me more tightly.
    When Stephen signaled for us to come, we
waded through the cabin to the opening in the hull. We had to go under before
we could get out, and I encouraged her to breath in deeply. “One last one,” I
said. “Hold it.” She filled her lungs and closed her mouth. I dunked us beneath
the water and headed directly to the opening. Veronica and Stephen had already escaped
and were on the look out for bloodless. Elizabeth and Jean followed in the
rear. I suppose I should have known. I should have realized that he would save
us all.
    The girl was tucked into my chest, as
Veronica and Elizabeth flanked me and Stephen rushed ahead to the bank. We assumed
the other side of the river was empty. Making our way across the silt at the
bottom of the stream, we only saw a few frantic stragglers at the water’s
surface. The bloodless seemed more prone to float than sink, and their legs
dangled overtop us, as we made our way across the bottom. When we finally surfaced,
I laid the girl on the dirt. Elizabeth examined her while Stephen and Veronica
checked the perimeter.
    “She’s not moving,” Elizabeth said.
    “Is she breathing?” I asked.
    The girl’s eyes were closed but from where I
stood it looked as though her chest was moving. Elizabeth leaned in and
listened for her heartbeat. “I don’t hear anything,” she said.
    I bent down and put my hand on the girl’s chest.
She did feel dead. I touched her cheek with my palm, tapping it softly to
revive her. I placed two fingers near her clavicle and waited to feel her pulse—she
was not breathing. I coaxed the blood to flow, teasing it out with my dreadful
desire to taste it.
    “You must bring her back,” Elizabeth said.
She could not hide her sorrow this time and gently caressed the girl’s face
with the back of her hand. “She cannot be dead,” she said.
    I shooed her away and tilted the girl’s head
back, opening her mouth wide and clearing her airway.