A Trail of Echoes Page 2

  My stomach lurched as I looked over the horrifying scene once again. I half expected Ben to be crouching over the girl, drawing out the very last drops of blood from her still-warm corpse. But no. He was sitting on the floor in the far corner of the room, his back against the wall, his head clutched in his hands, breathing heavily.

  I hurried over to him and bent down to his level, gripping his shoulders.

  “Ben,” I rasped. “We have to leave. If someone finds us…” I looked up at the ceiling. If there were any surveillance cameras in here, they were well hidden because I couldn’t spot any.

  “Get up,” I urged.

  When he looked at me, his green eyes seemed darker than usual. Much darker. They were practically black.

  His mouth was no longer covered in blood. I could see that he’d wiped it against his sleeve. He stood up, slightly unsteady. His jaw clenched as he eyed the corpse nearest to us.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said. He reached for my wrist and closed his hand around it. The next thing I knew, he was pulling me into the reception area and out of the main exit of the guesthouse. When we arrived on the street outside, it was dark. He gathered me onto his back and lurched forward with speed that made my stomach flip.

  I was still feeling overwhelmed at what I’d just witnessed Ben do. I’d known that he was a vampire, but I’d never witnessed such a harrowing scene, even during my stay at The Oasis. And Ben… although he had told me about his struggle around humans, I’d still thought he was different because of the way he’d treated me. Seeing his darkness so starkly before me was something that I was still trying to come to terms with.

  As he ran, we were just a blur in the darkness. It was a good thing too. Although he was wearing black, which helped to camouflage the stains, his robe was drenched in blood. We were moving too fast to see, but I was certain that we were leaving traces of blood on the sidewalk.

  My grip around Ben’s shoulders tightened.

  “We have to stop and get you some new clothes,” I said.

  He didn’t argue with me. I was sure that he was having the same thoughts about leaving a trail behind us. We stopped as we reached a night market and he placed me down on the ground.

  Taking the backpack off my shoulders, I dug inside and reached for a few notes—enough for new clothes. I handed the backpack to Ben, who put it on his back. He stood behind me, one arm wrapped around my waist and the other holding my upper left arm as we walked forward. His position against me made me feel like a prisoner being escorted somewhere.

  I didn’t tempt fate while stopping by a clothes store and made our visit quicker than I’d thought possible. I chose the robe within a matter of seconds, and then thrust the cash at the stall owner, not even waiting for the correct amount of change.

  We rushed away from the market and arrived at a quiet road. We stopped at the doorway of an old building. Placing the backpack on the ground, he pulled off his robe, then removed his pants, stripping to his underwear. I was supposed to be keeping watch, but I was embarrassed to find my eyes roaming his ridiculously attractive physique.

  I tore my eyes away as he stepped into his fresh pants and pulled on the new robe. Bundling up the old soiled clothes, he threw them into a trashcan at the side of the road and turned back to me.

  “Okay,” he said quietly. “Let’s continue.”

  “Where to now?” I asked.

  “Now, we need to head for water. The Nile. Do you have any idea how to get there? Are we going to need to pick up a map?”

  “I have a map,” I said, reaching into the backpack. I pulled it out and handed it to Ben.

  He opened it up and looked at it. Although it was dark, and there were no streetlights where we were standing, we could both see all the details of the map clearly. My supernatural vision was yet another thing I was still getting used to.

  We found our location on the map, then figured out the quickest route that involved passing by the least number of humans. Once we were confident in the plan, I climbed onto Ben’s back, the backpack once again fastened over my shoulders.

  Then he ran nonstop, slowing down only occasionally to consult the map he had gripped in his hand to ensure that we were still going in the right direction.

  Soon, the night air felt cooler and fresher. I sensed that we were approaching a body of water. When Ben stopped, we were standing in a dark harbor. A myriad of boats surrounded us. There were larger vessels—as large as cruise ships—as well as smaller ones like speedboats.

  “So we’re going to need to choose a route and buy a ticket?” I asked.

  Ben shook his head. “We need to avoid people as much as possible.”

  I had already guessed what was on his mind as his eyes settled on a speedboat about fifteen feet away from us.

  “Stealing?” I asked in a small voice.

  “I don’t see what other choice we have right now.”

  “So you know how to navigate the boat?” I asked.

  “I’m used to navigating submarines. I can handle a boat,” he muttered. I slid off his back and watched as he looked quickly around the harbor, then leapt onto the boat. I motioned to follow, but he held up a hand.

  “Just stay where you are and keep watch. Shout if you see someone coming.”

  I did as he requested. It seemed to be a quiet evening on the harbor. There weren’t many people around at all, making my task an easy one.

  About five minutes later the engine chortled and he returned, nodding in my direction.

  “Okay. I’ve figured out how to get the boat to start without keys.”

  He held out a hand, and I took it as he helped me onto the boat. He led me into the small cockpit in the center of the deck, and we both took a seat. Adjusting the controls, Ben began to navigate the boat backward. As soon as he had maneuvered out of the bay, he ramped up the speed. Soon we’d left the harbor and were moving toward the center of the wide river.

  He kept the lights switched off as he looked up and down the river. There were a number of other boats on the water at this time of night. We had to be careful to avoid them because they could not see us.

  We sailed north along the river for the next few hours, dodging any boats that passed our way, until the lights along the riverbank began to grow dimmer.

  “We’re running out of fuel,” Ben said. “We’re going to have to head for land.”

  Surrounding us on either side were tall marshes. Clearly we had traveled a good distance away from the city and were in some kind of suburb. Ben navigated the boat toward land and I gripped the sides of the boat as it hit the bank. As we both stepped out, I winced as mud filled my shoes.

  He held my hand and we waded through the sludge until we reached a concrete road. There were no other boats nearby along the bank that we could see.

  “We should start heading north by foot. It will be faster anyway. The boat was just to get us out of the city.” He inhaled deeply. “Definitely not as much human blood around here.”

  “Good,” I muttered.

  I decided that I wanted to run for a while, so we raced along the roads of the sleepy suburbs that passed nearest to the river. The chirp of crickets filled my ears, and the occasional roaring of a truck as it trundled by… and then, once we had entered the early hours of the morning, the sound of helicopters slicing the air above us.

  Ben and I sped up, trying to keep out of the spotlights that the choppers were shining down, but they kept hovering nearby. I shot a panicked glance at Ben. Gripping my hand, he tugged on me sharply and pulled us into some bushes to our right. As he kept leading me forward, the shrubbery got thicker and thicker and the ground muddier. Ben removed the backpack from his back and hung it over a low-hanging tree branch, then pulled me into the river until I was chest deep.

  “Take a deep breath,” he whispered.

  I didn’t have time to draw in much breath before he pulled me under with him. I remained submerged for as long as I could before I was forced to resurface for ox
ygen. I ducked down quickly again afterward. We remained in the water for what felt like the next ten minutes, until the helicopters seemed to have passed.

  We headed back to the bank, where Ben retrieved the backpack from the branch and continued running. As the first light of morning showed behind the horizon, we arrived at a harbor on the outskirts of a small town. Looking around, I was disappointed to see only cruise ships.

  “What now?” I asked, looking nervously at the sky.

  Ben eyed the huge ships.

  “We have two options. Keep traveling by foot and hope we find another boat soon, before the sun rises… or buy tickets on one of these cruise ships.”

  I stared at him, wondering if the last part was some kind of joke.

  “You, on a cruise?”

  He looked back at me. “Given the searches on the roads last night, I don’t think it’s a good idea to travel by land. But we need to keep moving.” He averted his eyes to the brightening sky. “Trust me when I say I feel crazy for suggesting this, but I think we’re going to be safer on one of those cruise ships, at least until tonight.” I gaped at him as he continued. “By my estimation, if we pass the day on a cruise ship along the Nile, of course it will go slow, but then we’ll only need one more night of traveling by foot—if that—and we’ll end up in Ismailia. There we’re sure to find a boat to take us down to the Red Sea, toward the Gulf of Aden, and hopefully as far as the Arabian Sea.”

  After everything I had seen of Ben’s behavior, I was beyond nervous at the idea of him being stuck on a boat surrounded by possibly hundreds of humans. I wouldn’t be able to leave his side for a moment.

  I gulped, then looked toward the small cabin in the middle of the harbor buildings that, going by the sign above its door, was a ticket office.

  “Well, first, let’s see if there are even tickets available,” I said. “They might be fully booked.”

  We headed down to the building and I was surprised to see it was open so early. Ben moved close behind me, one arm around my waist as I pushed the door open and we stepped inside.

  There was a bleary-eyed Arab man sitting at a desk.

  “Hello,” he said, forcing a smile.

  Ben motioned to take a seat next to me behind the desk, but I sat myself on his lap so that the back of my neck was pressed hard against his face. It was too early in the morning for me to witness another slaughter.

  The man raised a brow at me as I looked at him, unfazed.

  “Good morning,” I replied in Arabic, clearing my throat. “What cruises do you have available today?”

  He pulled out a pamphlet from one of the drawers. “There are quite a few leaving and stopping by this port. Where would you like to go?”

  “Uh, any ship traveling north or eastward.”

  He frowned. “That’s a little vague, ma’am.”

  “What is the earliest you have?”

  “The Empress should be stopping here for a short break in… about fifteen minutes, actually. I might be able to find a spare cabin.” He handed me a pamphlet about the cruise and squinted as he eyed his computer.

  I glanced through the pamphlet, waiting with bated breath.

  “Hm, no… I’m sorry. The Empress appears to be fully booked.”

  “Then when would the next—?”

  “Oh, wait.” He held up a hand. “Yes, there is a spare cabin. But it’s a very expensive one—the executive suite on the top level of the vessel.”

  “Will it be making any stops this evening, after sunset?”

  “One stop at about 9pm, though only a very short one.”

  “That’s fine,” I said immediately. “We’ll book that.”

  When the man told me the price, I barely batted an eyelid. We had more than enough.

  Daring to shift my weight from Ben for a second, I reached for the backpack and then sat back down again. Reaching into the bag, I counted the cash and handed it to the man. He issued us the tickets and instructed us where to wait. But the sun’s rays had begun to trickle down upon the harbor.

  Although I was anxious to get Ben far away from this man, I asked, “Would it be possible to wait in here until it comes?”

  He nodded. “Do you have any luggage that you need help with?” he asked, looking through the window outside as if wondering if we had left it out there.

  “No,” I said. “We, uh, travel light.”

  He raised a brow and then looked back at his computer.

  Ben and I waited in tense silence until a large ship came into view and stopped at the edge of the harbor. It ended up being sixteen minutes late. I thanked the ticket agent before Ben and I hurried out of the office and toward one of the nearest entrances of the long boat that had just opened up.

  Since it was early in the morning, apart from the man who greeted us at the entrance and gave us our key, we only met a handful of other humans on our way up to our room on the top level of the boat. Of course, human blood surrounded us, and I kept a tight grip on Ben in the hallways.

  Arriving at our suite, I closed the door behind us and locked it. Now that Ben was inside, I could breathe a little more easily.

  I moved farther into the room with Ben. It was luxuriously decorated with wide tinted windows, filled with traditional Egyptian furniture and a large four-poster bed. There was a dining table for two—upon which was a platter of welcome food—that looked out onto a small balcony.

  I glanced at Ben.

  He still looked so tense he was clearly in no mood to talk. I eyed the food laid out on the table. Removing my veil, I took a seat and began digging into the food.

  Ben sat opposite me and swiveled in his chair to look out of the window, his back to me. We didn’t talk at all for the next ten minutes as I stuffed myself. When he did swing back around to face me, he looked disturbed.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  “Hear what?” I asked, swallowing a mouthful of juice.

  His eyes narrowed and he seemed to be listening to something. For all my supernatural hearing, I couldn’t understand what Ben had noticed. All I could hear were quite ordinary sounds of the ship and the humans around us.

  “That,” he replied.

  I stared at him. “What?”

  He paused again. Then he shook his head.

  “I guess it was nothing.”

  Chapter 3: Ben

  The sounds echoing in my ears didn’t match my surroundings. It was as if invisible walls came down around me, blocking out the sounds of the cruise ship, and all went quiet… but for a few sounds. Chillingly familiar sounds.

  The wind sighing above me. The dripping of water. The echoing of footsteps against marble. The distant strumming of an instrument. All these might not have been so peculiar in themselves, and I might have even believed that they were noises from the cruise ship, but then came the dull grinding. The same grinding River and I had heard before we escaped. The sound was unmistakable to me.

  It felt like I was back in The Oasis.

  And then the noises faded away as suddenly as they had arrived, being replaced with the bustle of my current surroundings. I wasn’t sure whether to tell River what I had just experienced, or wait until I had a grasp of what was happening. I had scared her more than enough in the past twenty-four hours, so I decided not to. Just in case what I’d heard, or thought I’d heard, had been my imagination—some strange return to the past. Perhaps the noises were imprinted in my mind due to spending weeks down in that atrium.

  “What is it?” she pressed, this time reaching for my forearm.

  I shook my head again. “I’m not even sure what I heard.”

  She frowned at me, then rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her food. We didn’t discuss it again until the noises echoed in my ears for a second time later that evening. They remained in my head much longer than before.

  This time, I told her.

  “You haven’t experienced anything like that?” I asked.

  She shoo
k her head, her eyes wide with alarm. “How can you be hearing those noises?”

  “I have no idea,” I replied.

  After we discussed it for the next half-hour, River came up with the theory that I must be manifesting some kind of post-traumatic symptoms from being trapped there. I had my doubts about that, but since I wasn’t ready to share any theories of my own, I kept quiet.

  During the hours that followed, I kept expecting the sounds to return and surround me again, and from the look on River’s face, she was expecting it too. But I did not experience it again.

  As we waited, although I kept close to River, I found myself occasionally needing to draw her closer to me, lower my face inches above the curve of her neck and breathe in deeply.

  About an hour before sunset, River wanted to rest on the bed. I didn’t have a choice but to lie with her on the mattress. She slid beneath the sheets and bunched up the blankets around her, and then I settled next to her, close enough that her knees almost touched mine but not too close that I might disturb her. I intended to remain in this position until she’d finished resting. I was surprised that she was the one who drew nearer still. Raising her head from the mattress, she shuffled closer to me, and then rested her head against my shoulder.

  “I’m scared to let you out of my sight,” she muttered. “At least if I’m touching you, I’ll notice if you slip away.”

  She was right, of course. I was still a wild animal around human blood. The closer I was to her, the better. I just hadn’t wanted to overstep a boundary by moving nearer to her myself. Now that she had broached it, I slid an arm around her and rested my hand against her hip.

  “I think you’ll definitely notice if I slip away now.”

  She chuckled, then closed her eyes, apparently comforted by my gesture. My chin resting against the top of her head, I could feel her breathing grow deeper and steadier, until finally she was asleep.

  I remained still, careful not to wake her as I looked out of the window, watching the river bank.

  Once the boat began to slow, it was time for us to move on. I looked down at River’s face. She had an expression of serenity, her pillowy lips flushed. I paused for a moment to admire her beauty, then removed my hand from her hip and brushed her shoulder. When she still didn’t stir, I shook her gently.