Bright Moon (4 page)

“You need to run!” Tyson said. She put a
hand on the bars of the cage, looking for an opening. “You have to
go, now!”

“How do I get you out?” she asked in a
trembling voice.

“Run!” he said pleadingly, his eyes
wide.

“How do I get you out?” she asked again with
more determination.

His breathing was labored and he shut his
eyes as if in pain. “The lock is on top and the key is in his shirt
pocket.”

Mark gurgled in his throat when Clara shoved
his body to one side to retrieve the key. She grasped the metal of
the ring and his eyes shot open. There was no time to evade him. He
sat up and knocked her down. She landed against the bars of the
cage, her fingers clasped firmly around the key. He had moved with
such authority that she thought he would spring to his feet and
demand she return the key. Instead, he groaned and struggled to
stand, wiping the blood from under his nose. Shuffling his feet, he
moved sluggishly, giving her the chance she needed to locate the
lock. She could barely reach it and stood on her toes to jam the
key in the mechanism. Mark bellowed in rage and his arms closed
around her middle, dragging her down.

“No!” she screamed and wriggled violently,
breaking his grip and kicking against the bars to send them both
careening backward. “Let me go!” she demanded and thrashed,
directing her rage at him as he struggled to contain her. They both
froze when a clang vibrated through the trees. The top of the cage
hung open and Tyson was nowhere in sight. Mark dropped her and got
to his feet, scanning the surrounding trees before hoisting her to
her feet and lacing his fingers in her hair.

“Where did he go?”

“I didn’t see,” she protested weakly.

He yanked on her hair. “Where is he?!” He
demanded angrily and she yelled in pain, making a feeble attempt to
push him off.

“Let her go!” a voice growled from
behind.

Mark froze and pulled her around, using her
as a shield when he faced Tyson. “Get back in,” he warned.

“She should not be here, Mark. Let her
go.”

“I’ve waited too long to have this ruined
this way!” Mark bellowed.

“It’s over now, Mark.”

Tyson edged closer and Mark flinched as if
each movement was a direct punch to his gut. Finally, he sighed and
relaxed. “She was hard to pinpoint you know. Who knows? I might
never have found her if you hadn’t started running with her
brother.”

Her heart leapt into her throat for the
second time and blood drained from her face. The mention of her
twin caught her off guard. “My brother?” she gasped and twisted to
see Mark. “What do you know about my brother?” Her fear vanished in
that instant, replaced by worry, but he sighed and did the last
thing she expected when he shoved her at Tyson. She slammed into
him and he caught her, keeping her from falling by bracing her
elbow. She jerked her arm with what she assumed would be enough
force to pull free and was mildly taken aback when his grip
held.

“Do you sense the irony?” Mark asked
lightheartedly. “Perhaps I was foolhardy in trying to take you
without help.” She tried again to break Tyson’s grip, throwing her
weight against him. He pulled her behind him, holding her as far
from Mark as he could without actually releasing her.

“Don’t go near him,” his voice was low and
she almost didn’t hear it. He sounded frail and she wouldn’t have
believed his was the commanding voice she’d heard only a few
moments earlier.

“You know I am in no rush to finish things.
I think we can agree to go our separate ways tonight,” Mark
commented after a speculating pause.

“My brother!” Clara cut in. “What were you
saying about my brother?” She again tried to free her arm. Again,
her efforts were in vain. Tyson, despite his weak appearance, was
unaffected. She glared as Mark backed casually away. He felt her
gaze and spoke just before the shadows of the trees hid him.

“Sorry, baby, I wish it wasn’t you.”

“Don’t talk to her!” Tyson’s voice inflamed
to a deafening roar. Mark laughed once more and was gone. Tyson
hadn’t released her arm and she stole a glance at him. He was
staring after Mark with unreadable doom on his features.

“Take your hand off of me!” she demanded.
She tried once more to break his grip, but the result was the same.
She had the sense that he was hardly aware of her, or her
movements. Slowly and purposefully he reached into his pants pocket
and extracted a smart phone about the size of his hand. He was
shaking so hard that it was a wonder he could grip. The glow from
the miniature screen didn’t improve his pale features and it
registered in her mind that he was about to make a call.
Impulsively, she knocked it from his hands. The phone thudded in
the leaves underfoot and Clara brought her heel down on it,
cracking the screen. Tyson’s shocked expression met her gaze and he
surprised her by laughing.

“Don’t laugh!” she hissed. “My brother, do
you know anything about him?”

“You did that to find out about your
brother?”

She realized how backwards that seemed, but
was beyond caring. She opened her mouth to ask again. Tyson inhaled
deeply and stumbled a few steps back. He released her arm and
nearly collapsed before she caught him. She all but crumpled and it
took every ounce of her strength to keep him from falling. He
didn’t appear anywhere near as heavy as he proved and it surprised
her. Despite how weighty he was, she somehow managed to guide him
in the direction of Mark’s truck. She nearly dropped him when she
struggled with the door, but was just able to coax it open. Tyson
needed very little encouragement to fall into the seat. His breath
was strenuous and she took a moment to catch her own before asking,
“Are you okay?”
His body was rigid with whatever unseen pain he labored under and
he put a hand on either side of his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
The shaking stopped gradually and he was able to sit back. “I’m
fine,” he said quietly.

“You do
not
look fine. You look as if
you need to go to the hospital.”

“No! Not the hospital!” His answer came
before she could finish the suggestion.

“Okay, okay!” she breathed defensively.

“Your desire for information regarding your
brother has disabled you. You should have run, you should have hid
or tried to get help. You should have taken my phone instead of
smashing it…anyone with any sense would have.”

She couldn’t meet his eye, embarrassed by
the allegations. As she watched his face, she couldn’t help but
notice his strong, firm chin and straight nose. His brow was drawn
as if he scowled too frequently, but she thought he’d be handsome
if he wasn’t so obviously unwell.

“Do you know my brother?” she asked, her
voice trembling with emotion. “Where is he?”

“I can’t tell you.” He got unsteadily to his
feet.

“Where are you going?” she demanded as he
tottered toward the front of the truck, keeping a hand on it to
support himself.

“Don’t you mean where are
we
going?”
he shot back.

“I’m not going anywhere!” she yelled when he
made it to the driver’s door. His head disappeared under the
dash.

“You want to stay out here with the
wolves?”
Her fingernails dug into her palm as she stared at the vehicle. It
suddenly roared to life and Tyson reappeared. “Get in,” he said.
She obeyed without another word. Tyson backed the truck from the
clearing, it spun and lurched. “How?” Tyson barked when the truck
was moving again, cutting down the path that dodged around
trees.

“How what?”

“How did he get you out here?”
“He said there was an emergency,” she answered in a small
voice.

“And it worked? You went with him just like
that?”
“Are you going to tell me about my brother or not?” she asked
defiantly.

“Not.”

Her response was cut off when he sped up.
The truck kicked up rocks and dirt as they barreled down the road.
She screamed and threw her hand out to keep from banging her head
on the door. “Are you cra—” The truck rounded a bend without
slowing. Tyson pushed the truck faster and faster, heading away
from home.

“Am
I
crazy? You have a lot of nerve
asking me that! Of the two of us I don’t think
I
am the
crazy one!”

“My brother…” she said stubbornly.
Tyson shook his head in shock, but didn’t answer. “I smell
blood.”

“What?” she asked.

“Were you bitten?”
She lifted her pants legs, leaning forward to examine where the
wolves had attacked. Tyson growled outlandish words under his
breath. “Your shoulder,” he eventually said.

“Really?” she asked, twisting in her seat to
try and see. She gasped when her skin stretched and stung. Her
shirt was torn and she touched the wound beneath the hole. Her
fingers came back sticky. Tyson pressed the gas harder and clouds
of dust flew where they’d been. Seeing the blood sent her into a
state of mild shock and she was numb to the fact that the truck
sped down the open road. He turned so often she wouldn’t have been
able to find her way back on her own anyway.

The thick growth on either side of the
asphalt eventually gave way to a grassy clearing. In the moonlight,
the eaves of large house rose over the slight hill. The truck
stopped in the drive and they sat in silence a moment. He’d parked
next to three other vehicles. She waited for him to make some kind
of demand, but when she stole a glance at him, he was hunched over
in the seat with his forehead pressed to the steering wheel. He
clutched his head again and, telling by the expression on his face,
it was possible it might explode.

“Tyson?” she breathed. “Are you sure you
don’t need to go to a hospital?”

The question seemed to pull him out of the
spell. “Quite sure,” he growled crossly and sat back. She watched
him expectantly, but he stared ahead at nothing. When he didn’t
move she tried again.

“Do you need help?”
“No!” he barked, but still didn’t move.

She bit her tongue to sooth the agitation
that stemmed from his behavior. “Is there someone here you trust to
help you?” She gestured toward the huge house.

“No,” he answered more gently. “We should go
inside.” He took a deep breath as if he were about to plunge into a
bath of ice. He must have been better than he seemed, because he
sprang lightly out and opened her door before she comprehended what
was going on. Her feet crunched in the gravel as she followed him
across the driveway. Tyson, on the other hand, stepped without
weight and didn’t make a sound. She pretended not to notice and
looked up at the glowing full moon instead. The air around was cool
and carried a light, sweet scent. Leaves, from trees that stood
with their roots anchored in the lawn, rustled in a gentle
breeze.

“Please hurry,” Tyson spoke. She hadn’t
realized he’d gotten ahead.

“Of course,” she mumbled, feeling stupid.
Tyson stood at the top of a sheltered porch. As he showed her in,
it seemed ironic that the place was eerily still when the front
room alone could easily have held a small crowd. He snapped lights
on as he led her by extravagant furniture and rugs. He wasted
little time in a tour and immediately stomped his way to a flight
of stairs that led to a corridor. Doors lined the long hall as if
they were in a hotel. Tyson stopped at one and opened it. The room
had a white floor and blue counters. There was a brown padded exam
table exactly the same as ones found in a doctor’s office. Steel
trays lined the counter filled with various kinds of sterilized
tools. Tyson went to a cupboard to retrieve rubbing alcohol, gauze
and a few other things.

“You have a hospital in your house?” she
asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yes. Now come and sit.” He jabbed a finger
at the table. She climbed up and yanked her shirt off with one
hand, suddenly very glad she’d worn a tank top beneath her tee.
Twisting again, she pulled her shoulder forward and saw the gash
ran roughly the same length as her shoulder blade. The rush of
adrenaline had worn off, leaving pain to settle in and she flinched
when her fingers made contact with exposed flesh. Tyson came behind
her to slam a tray down and froze in place. His arms and shoulders
were rock solid tense and he was shaking again. His eyes were shut
and his face screwed up. He took a shuddering breath while reaching
for the alcohol with trembling hands.

“Are you a doctor?” she asked and snatched
it from him.

“Not exactly,” he said through clenched
teeth. She did her best to aim with the bottle hovering over her
shoulder and dumped a large amount on the gash. The pain was so
intense her teeth clenched and she couldn’t stop the cry of pain.
“I’m sorry,” he said and mopped at the spot with a wad of cotton
gauze.

“I don’t know what happened to you,” she
said, flinching each time he touched her. “But you should probably
be seen, and I mean by a real doctor.”

“I will be fine once we’re done here.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“No,” he answered firmly. “No
questions.”

“I just don’t understand why he did that,”
she persisted and kept her eyes trained to the shiny white floor
that reflected the bright lights overhead.

“He is sick, alright?” Tyson pointed out
impatiently. “
He
is the one who needs to see a doctor.”

“How did you know…how did you find us?”

“You were there,” he said gruffly as if that
made things perfectly clear.

“I don’t understand,” she said with a shake
of her head. “I’ve never met you.”

Something behind her clattered and he was
shaking again, this time breaking out in a sweat. She felt him
leaning toward her and she half turned, bumping his head with hers.
“Please,” he whispered, his breath on her cheek. “No more questions
tonight, alright?”

The hair on the back of her neck stood and
she nodded. “Alright.”