Better off Dead

[Jackson Church]

Jackson left the police station, and started the long walk back to the church. His hope for humanity and life had started to fade out like a fake tattoo that some kid sported because they were too young for the real thing. It always looked good in the beginning, even real- but after a few weeks you start to see it fade and fall away, piece by piece.
That's how he felt about life now. All hope was lost. Perhaps it was fake to begin with. I mean who survives such a catarosphe and thinks the world can go on as it was? Jackson felt foolish. He wasn't as young a man anymore. He caught a glimpse of himself in a store-front glass, and stopped to access the damage. Time and stress had taken a toll on his body. He looked like he belonged in an episode of Duck Dynasty. Well maybe that was taking it a little far, his beard wasn't that long. He reached up and ran a hand over it, it was maybe half an inch off his chin. He slowly waved to himself, a stranger in the mirror, and turned to keep walking.

He felt the raindrops start to fall down the crown of his head, and pulled the coat up over his head as best he could. As the rain got harder, his brisk walk became a run.
Before he knew it, he stood in the church graveyard. He let his shoulders relax, and the coat slip from around his head.
He stood there and took a panoramic view of the graveyard, turning his body in a complete 360. When he came to a stop, he mumbled, "This is the place to be." He was so saddened that he was alive, and just tired of being alone. Tired of being sick. He felt that familiar twinge in his stomach start to arise and pulled out his trusty vial. Taking a sip, Jackson replaced the cap, and threw it as far as he could. He hopped up on an external, concrete, burial vault. Laying back and placing his hands beneath his head. He closed his eyes as the rain washed over him.

[Scarlett Devereaux]

The piece of crap car ran out of gas just outside the city limits of Grants Pass, Oregon. "Shit," I mumbled as I got out of the car. I pulled my hood up over my head, opened the door and stepped out of the car. I started to walk aimlessly, feeling the hunger pangs grabbing at my belly. My body had adjusted to the bare minimums that I allowed it and I willed it to shut the hell up. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and walked with my head down. Something about this town had always pulled me back. I wasn't from here, had never lived here before the quakes, there was no reason for me to want anything to do with this miserable, little town. But, I knew that was wrong. I kept walking, trying hard not to think. I stared down at the old tennis shoes on my fit and remembered another time.

The crystals on my shoes sparkled with the boutique light shining on them. Women laughed around me. There was so much joy and happiness in this big fitting room. My mother laughed with Tristan's mother. The two of those so beautiful in all their southern charm.

I shook off the memory, hating my mind for going there. I looked up from my tattered shoes and realized where the walkin had lead me. I was standing at the edge of the graveyard that circled the Free Will Baptist Church. I swallowed hard. Of all the places in this damn town, how did I end up here. I stepped through the consecrated ground, careful not to step directly on a grave. Old superstitions die hard. I found an old, crumbling head stone and sat down with it. Resting my back against the cold stone, I let the rain wash over me as I hung my head and tried to the blessed peace that only sleep could bring.

That was when I heard him. He looked pale and the beard, though sexy as hell, aged him. I used all of my vampiric abilities to stay as still as possible. He wouldn't want to see me. What the hell was I thinking, coming back here. Stupid Scarlett. "Dang it!!" I whispered harshly as something sharp dug in to my hand. Pure instinct had me putting my fist down hard on the rabid chipmunk, crushing its small body beneath the force of it.

[Jackson Church]

It was the distressed squeal of an animal that aroused Jackson to sit straight up. He raised up, resting on his elbows, trying to figure out where the sound came from.
Slowly he brought himself to a standing position, he could hear scattering nearby, " Hello?" He called out. He took a step and then called out again, "Who's there?!" He demanded again, "I said who's there!?". He thought to himself, I've caught one of those vandals in action. His curiosity became anger, "You've got ten seconds to show yourself, or I'm going to find you, and when I do I will show no mercy, you pig!" Jackson pulled his gun from the holster beneath his shirt, and cocked it. He took a few more steps, when he heard more russeling. It was coming from behind a tomb stone.
He didn't wanna risk the culprit getting away, so he tried to sneak upon them as quietly as possible.Part of him wondered why he even cared. Many would argue that Jackson Church lost his way. Maybe even his faith. He hadn't talked to God in months, so why would he care about this old church? A church that's color was fading, just like the hope Jackson once carried ? The old saying was that a Church is only as alive as its Pastor. It's Pastor has been dead or missing for 2 years. Why did this church matter to Jackson? It didn't matter before all this. His parents begged him to go to church.
Jackson swiftly, like a fluent dance, all in one move turned the corner and pointed the gun. There was nothing. He lowered his weapon and let out a cry, "Seriously? " he rested himself against a tree, "Come'on Lord, show me a sign!?" He was disappointed there was no one there to fight.
He heard the russel again, standing back to his feet.
He followed the sound and made that same swift turn and this time there wasn't nothing. Perhaps it was Jackson's sign. He swallowed hard as he looked her over from head to toe. Part of him wanted to pull the trigger, but part of him was jumping with glee. "Scarlet." He mumbled.

[Scarlett Devereaux]

He whirled around, gun steady in his hand as he pointed it at her head. He'd hardened over the past year. Not just his body but his heart too, I could see it in his eyes. "Scarlett." He said my name and I swallowed hard. I stared at him for a moment, wanting to cry. But I didn't. That girl that could make read tears stream down her face was long gone. I had no tears left. "Jack..son." My voice hitched on his name. I told myself that it was my physical condition that caused the skip so I didn't have to think about the emotions of saying his name. It had been so long since I'd even thought his name, never mind said it out loud.

His arm wavered oh so slightly at the sound of my broken voice but the gun stayed pointed at its target. "Do us both a..favor. Get it..over with." My voice trembled. When was the last time I'd eaten? If I couldn't remember, it had been too long. The sun may not have been able to help me but hopefully now was the time for lack of nutrition to finally get the job done.

I thought about standing up but, thinking about it was as far as I got. I wanted to tell him to go away, to leave me be and let me die already. But, I couldn't make myself do it. For so long after I'd left I'd gorged myself on human blood. I tore throat and drained bodies hoping and even praying that I would eventually drink enough to get his blood out of my system. But it never happened. No matter how many dang bodies I left behind, I could still feel him. I could feel his anger, his frustration, and his loneliness. I hated him for it. But, more than anything, I hated myself for it.

[Jackson Church]

There she was. In the flesh. Jackson couldn't take his eyes off of her for a moment. Was this a dream? All the torment she put him through... He wanted to feel excited to see her, but fact is- he felt nothing. Nothing other than numb. She didn't realize when she took his blood, and then left- she took who he was with her.

"Jack..son." Her voice hitched on my name. "Do us both a..favor. Get it..over with." Her voice trembled.

An angrily sad expression fell over his face and he lowered his gun, "I'm not doin' you any favors." He replied softly. Jackson re- holstered his gun. He left her sitting there. As he started to track across the cemetery and Into the church
He fought back those feelings for her that were pushing against him like a levy about to break. He knew he needed to get up an emotional barrier or they would consume him.
He wanted to look back to see if she were following, but his pride wouldn't let him and it was for the best.

[Scarlett Devereaux]

He was walking away. Did I want to go after him? Yes and no. So many decisions taken out of my hands today. The clouds had decided I'd live and Jackson Church had just decided I should die.

My ears perked up as I heard the vehicle approaching. I turned my head from the man I lov.. That thought was for another time. I focused on the military humvee that was parking 50 feet from me. 3 men in army fatigues simultaneously exited the vehicle. "Fucking Cartella." That bitch Giavanna. "We got her." One of them spoke in to a radio mounted on his shoulder. "Oh, no you don't." I thought. I was NOT going back there. I would bite the bullet and give in to the preacher before I get back in to one of Giavanna Cartella's cages. I felt my chest rising and falling hard. I reached deep down inside myself as the three men took the steps they needed to reach me. I was defenseless against them. I needed him. Shit. "JACKSON!"

[Jackson Church]

"Jackson" her voice rang out in desperation. Jackson quickly turned to see what was happening. He saw the Humvee and the camouflaged men walking toward Scarlett. He pulled his gun and started to fire at them as he ran as fast as he could to her," hold on!" He yelled out as he was forced to take cover as bullets started to fly back at him.
He questioned himself more than once as to why he felt the need to get involved. All he could think about, was it being his chance to save her again. Not from the world, but from herself. The gun fire between the four men was heavy. Jackson hit one of the men, no doubt killing him. He strategically maneuvered closer to Scarlett,"Can you walk?!!" He shouted above the gunfire. It wasn't like Scarlett to not get herself out of a situation.
He watched as another bullet took down another one.
One guy left and one bullet left. Of course he missed. "Shit." He tossed his gun to the ground, stayed low and tackled the last guy at the knees. Both men shared in punches until Jackson ended up on top again with his hands around the guys throat.
He watched as the life drained from him and then stood up. Jackson turned back to Scarlett, stopped in front of her,. He reached his hand down, holding it out for her to take.

[Scarlett Devereaux]

Duck and cover. That's what I did. I had no strength left in me,calling for Jackson had taken everything I had left. I tried to crawl away but as I moved, I felt the sting of a bullet entering my side. All of the breath whooshed out of me in a hiss between my clenched teeth. "Can you walk?!!" He shouted to me. I couldn't respond. The scent of fresh blood all around me was occupying all of my senses. I clamped my hand over the hole in my side and tried to not get shot again.

I watched Jackson with heavy lidded eyes. He moved like a tiger in the jungle, swift and with purpose. He'd been a lot sloppier when I'd left here. When it was all done, he turned back to me, his eyes roaming over me. When he reached down to me, I didn't know what to do. I took my hand away from the gaping bullet wound and put it in his. I wouldn't thank him, we both knew that would only make it worse. He'd saved me again and thank you wouldn't cut it. I looked around at all of the men he'd just killed and sighed inwardly. One more thing he'd blame me for.

I tried to pull myself up with his hand but as I was getting to my feet, my world swam. The loss of bullet wound, the loss of blood, the not feeding for 3 weeks straight.. "Dang it all to all to heck." My southern accent was thick as the great sleep crowded over me. My eyes rolled back and I let it claim me.

[Jackson Church]

I felt her grip loosen on my hand, and her knees buckle beneath her. I tried to cushion her fall, but I wasn't fast enough to catch her. It reminded me of the first time we met, when I was too weak to move her out of the sun. I bent down, confident this time I wouldn't have any trouble hoisting her up, into my arms. I tucked my arms under her and with all the strength in my back, picked her up. Once I made sure I had my balance, I turned to head back to the church, "I got you. It's gonna be okay," I tried to assure her.

I looked down at her face, studying it. It had been a long time since we were this close. Every line I had memorized was still the same. And with as much time that had passed, there were even more beautiful lines and detail. But they were all perfectly placed, and orchestrated in the beauty that was her. I wasn't sure how long she would stay once awake. And I would have to do what I would grimace at, when I would see her first do it, but that is let her feed. She was weak, and it showed. I didn't know a lot about vampire poisoning, but I imagine like any food chain, those who were weak were prey. If I sent her on her way without strengthening her, she would be a sitting duck.

I kept moving as fast as I could. I could see the church in the clearing of the brush at the edge of the cemetery. The sky opened back up, and thunder clamped all around. The lightening was starting to get vivid. The already soaked ground was hard enough to maneuver through without this added obstacle. Finally I made it to the basement door, and with one foot pushed it open. Laying. Her on the bed, and locking it back behind me. I sat in the chair next to her exhausted, and watched her sleep until slumber hit me.