Vitality (Vitality Series #1)

Chapter 13 The Chase

A noise sounded in the library, startling Ava. All the books dropped from her hands. It was late, and she was supposed to be alone.

A soft clanging sounded again. Something had fallen loose most likely, but, just in case, she did an inventory check for the knife in the neck sheath under her shirt before following it. On her way, she found a flashlight, knowing some of the lights weren't working where she was headed.

The noise was coming from behind the plastic curtains, past the room that was mostly charred and in the stages of construction, and down the hall, behind a door she waited another minute to open. When she did, a cold draft of wind swept past her and settled. She turned on the flashlight as the ceiling light struggled on and off. No one there.

The room was filled with stacks of books and papers laying everywhere. Behind one pile was a door swinging open and closed from a draft, making a clinging sound every time it hit the latch.

"What the shit?"

She pushed all the books out of the way and opened the door the rest of the way to see a window left open in a dark hallway, causing the draft. The hallway led to a narrow stairway. The stairs went past a couple doors and ended at a small trapdoor. The wind flooded in from above as she opened it, along with faint noises from outside. It was the bell tower.

Yes.

The walkway circled around a huge antique bell hanging in the center. She circled it and walked over to the ledge as the air blew. The street below was nearly quiet. Off down the hill, neighborhoods away, it turned into a little bustling town down where the harbor was. On the other sides were woods and water and darkness. She looked at her watch — almost time to go... though she longed to stay.

Ava set the flashlight down and found a spot on the ledge to sit for a while as she peered out over the town, out into the dark sky, and her head rang with a joy that was too rare for her. She stood, looking down at the far-away town with nothing between her and the ground but a strong gust of wind and a hand latched loosely on the column.

She set a piece of brick loose as she pulled herself back down. A paper was shoved behind it, with writing of an elegant script, as well as numbers carved into the bottom.

The bird whistles and sings, imitating the sound of children's swings,

When beliefs ran in their imagination's delight, it could bring the door to light.

Though, when it has been quiet for long, the sound fades in memory, and thus the door has gone.

The bird goes on boasting to you this little secret in their song, use the freedom of their wings to find it but not yearlong.

Truths are sung only in spring and fall. Follow it in the winter or summer, and you'll lose it all.

"What is wrong with this town?" Ava looked back out into the dark. Tread carefully in the dark, the professor had said.

The skies were the darkest they'd been since she'd been in town. Moisture was building in the air, and a quiet bolt of lightning lit over the coast, so she knew a storm was coming. Ava looked down to see only one person walking as the rest of the town slept, and the paper fell away from her hand.

Him.

He was ubiquitous. Everywhere she turned, he was there. When she closed her eyes, he was there. Even in the very air around her, she could feel his presence encompassing her, embracing, wounding tightly. She'd tried so hard to forget him. But...

He would not let her go.

Ava turned from the ledge and straightened herself out, fumbling her fingers on her shirt. They were shaking and adrenaline was beginning to pour through her. She felt nauseous.

Calm down. Compartmentalize him. Lock him in a box, in the back of the head, and forget that he's there. She was going to forget ever seeing him, as if every second she'd give him, the closer the hallucinations would come. Like they did in Lithium. Like they did in the bathroom back at the automobile shop. Like they did before her mother left.

Ava closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before turning back around, careful to keep her eyes away. She picked up the paper from the ground and folded it back up.

Detach.

She walked to the ledge again and calmly put the paper back inside the column, sliding in the brick behind it. Her gaze began to sway from her fingers to the ledge — detach — and then... back to him...

She groaned, feeling the exhaustion wrecking her muscles, like a piece of wood under severe pressure. She couldn't keep this up forever. More importantly, and even irrationally, and for so many reasons that swam no louder than whispers under her cracking resolve, she just didn't want to keep it up anymore.

Wasn't she here because she was fighting to live? Wasn't she here because she was trying to climb out of a black hole, back to where everything hurt? How could she deny how he made her feel? How could she deny that she wanted that so much? And how could she let her fears blind her when what she wanted was right there? And she wanted it badly.

But would the pain be worth it?

Ava tightened her hands around the cement ledge, partly to keep herself there as she thought about following him . Yet, all she could think was that if she waited any longer, he'd be too far, and she would lose him, and there wouldn't even be a choice.

Could she really let herself go and drift off in the deepest waters of madness to be lost at sea? On purpose? She'd have to be really crazy to put herself through that. And she was.

"Damn it!" Ava pushed herself from the ledge and ran down the stairs, going as fast as she could. And everything began to shift — both inside and outside of her.

The stairs broke apart behind her as she went, the building falling away. Shiiiiiiiiiit. She slowed in fear of the hallucinations and thought to stop. But she kept going. She was really doing this. Oh God. AND EVERYTHING WAS FALLING AWAY.

Outside, the wind burst against her and a deep chill pierced through the layers of her. But any remnant of cold evaporated from her body as she picked up speed, running on the wind of something primal that raised goose bumps from her rain-misted skin. The buildings around her partially withdrew like smoke and mist, and so did the idea of anything else but the chase.

She ran fast — and she was a very fast runner — until she was close enough, hiding in doorways and alleys, all the way down and off Aberdeen Hill, through the neighborhoods, and through a neglected street that curved down a slope. At the bottom, an old graveyard sat with a black stone mansion standing severely behind it. He slowed, and she came to a stop amongst the graves.