Caitlin allowed herself to imagine herself back in her normal life. Hanging out with all her friends, going to parties, being in a normal school, about to graduate. She liked how it felt. For a moment, she tried really hard to push all the events of the last week completely out of her mind. She imagined that nothing bad had ever happened.

But then she looked over and saw Caleb, and reality came flooding back. Her life had changed. Permanently. And it would never change back. She just had to accept it.

Not to mention that she had killed someone, and that the police were looking for her. Or that it would only be a matter of time until they caught her, somewhere. Or the fact that an entire vampire race was looking to kill her. Or that this sword she was looking for could save a lot of people’s lives.

Life was definitely not what it was, and never would be. She had to just embrace her current reality.

Caitlin put her hand into Caleb’s arm, and led him towards the front doors. The Colemans. She knew where they lived, and that would make sense, Sam’s crashing there. If he wasn’t in school, then he was probably there right now. That’s where they’d have to go next.

As they walked out the front doors and into the fresh air, she marveled at how good it felt to be walking out of this high school again – and this time for good.

* * *

Caitlin and Caleb walked across the Coleman property, the snow on the grass crunching beneath their feet. The house itself wasn’t much – a modest ranch set on the side of a country road. But way back behind it, at the end of the property, it had a barn. Caitlin saw all the beat-up pickup trucks parked haphazardly on the lawn, and could see the footprints in the ice and snow, and she knew a lot of traffic had headed towards that barn.

That was what kids did in Oakville – they hung out in each other’s barns. Oakville was as rural as it was suburban, and it gave them the chance to hang in a structure far enough from your parents’ house so that they didn’t know or didn’t care what you were doing. It was a whole lot better than hanging out in the basement. Your parents couldn’t hear a thing. And you had your own entrance. And exit.

Caitlin took a deep breath as she walked up to the barn and slid back the heavy, wooden door.

The first thing that hit her was the smell. Pot. Clouds of it hung in the air.

That, mixed with the smell of stale beer. Way too much of it.

Then what struck her – more than everything else – was the smell of an animal. She had never had such keen senses before. The shock of this animal’s presence raced through her senses, as if she had just sniffed ammonia.

She looked to her right and zoomed in. There, in the corner, was a large Rottweiler. He sat up slowly, stared at her, and snarled. He broke into a low, guttural growl. It was Butch. She remembered him now. The Colemans’ nasty Rottweiler. As if the Colemans needed a vicious animal to add to their picture of mayhem.

The Colemans had always been bad news. Three brothers – 17, 15, and 13 – somewhere along the way, Sam had become friends with the middle brother, Gabe. Each was worse than the next. Their dad had left them a long time ago, no one knew where, and their mom was never around. They basically raised themselves. Despite their ages, they were always drunk or stoned, and out of school more than they were in it.

Caitlin was upset that Sam was hanging out with them. It couldn’t lead to anything good.

Music played in the background. Pink Floyd. Wish You Were Here.

Figures, Caitlin thought.

It was dark in here, especially coming from such a bright day, and it took her eyes several seconds to fully adjust.

There he was. Sam. Sitting in the middle of that worn-out couch, surrounded by a dozen boys. Gabe on one side and Brock on the other.

Sam was hunched over a bong. He had just finished inhaling, and he set it down and leaned back, sucking in the air and holding it way too long. He finally released it.

Gabe tapped him, and Sam looked up. In a stoned haze, he stared at Caitlin. His eyes were bloodshot.

Caitlin felt a pain rip through her stomach. She was beyond disappointed. She felt like it was all her fault. She thought back to the last time they saw each other, in New York, to their fight. Her harsh words. “Just go!” she had yelled. Why had she had to have been so harsh? Why couldn’t she have had a chance to take it back?

Now it was too late. If she had chosen different words, maybe things would be different right now.

She also felt a wave of anger. Anger at the Colemans, anger at all the boys in this barn who sat around on those beat-up couches and chairs, on piles of hay, all sitting around, drinking, smoking, doing nothing with their lives. They were free to do nothing with their lives. But they weren’t free to drag Sam into it. He was better than them. He’d just never had any guidance. Never had any father figure, any kindness from their mom. He was a great kid, and she knew that he could be the top of his class right now if only he’d had even a semi-stable home. But at some point, it was too late. He’d just stopped caring.

She took several steps closer to him. “Sam?” she asked.

He just stared back, not saying a word.

It was hard to see what was in that stare. Was it the drugs? Was he pretending not to care? Or did he really not care?

His look of apathy hurt her more than anything. She had anticipated his being so happy to see her, his getting up and giving her a hug. Not this. He didn’t seem to even care. As if she were a stranger. Was he just acting cool in front of his friends? Or had she really screwed things up for good this time?

Several seconds passed, and finally, he looked away, handing the bong off to one of his friends. He kept looking at his other friends, ignoring her.

“Sam!” she said, much louder, her face flushing with anger. “I’m talking to you!”

She heard the snickers of his loser friends, and she felt the anger rising up in waves in her body. She was beginning to feel something else. An animal instinct. The anger in her was welling to a point where it was almost beyond control, and she feared that it would soon cross the line. It was no longer human. It was becoming animal.

These boys were big, but the power rising in her veins told her that she could handle any of them in an instant. She was having a hard time containing her anger, and she hoped she would be strong enough to do so.

At the same time, the Rottweiler ratcheted up his growling, as he started slowly walking towards her. It was as if he sensed something coming.

She felt a gentle hand on her should. Caleb. He was still there. He must’ve sensed her anger rising, the animal instinct between them. He was trying to calm her, to tell her to control herself, not to let herself go. His presence reassured her. But it wasn’t easy.

Sam finally turned and looked at her. There was defiance in his look. He was still mad. That was obvious.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

“Why aren’t you in school?” was the first thing she heard herself say. She wasn’t exactly sure why she said that, especially with all the other things she wanted to ask him. But the motherly instinct in her kicked in. And that was what came out.

More snickers. Her anger rose.

“What do you care?” he said. “You told me to go.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean it.”

She was glad she had a chance to say it.

But it didn’t seem to sway him. He just stared.

“Sam, I need to talk to you. In private,” she said.

She wanted to get him out of that environment, into the fresh air, alone, where they could really talk. She not only wanted to know about their Dad; she also just wanted to talk to him, like they used to. And to break the news about their Mom. Gently.

But it wasn’t going to happen. She could see that now. Things were spiraling downward. She felt that the energy in this crowded barn was just too dark. Too violent. She could feel herself losing control. Despite Caleb’s hand, she just couldn’t stop whatever was overcoming her.

“I’m all set here,” Sam said.

She could hear more snickering among his friends.

“Why don’t you relax?” one of the guys said to her. “You’re so high strung. Come sit. Take a hit.”

He held the bong out to her.

She turned and stared at him.

“Why don’t you shove that bong up your ass?” she heard herself say, through gritted teeth.

A chorus of heckling came from the group of boys. “Oh, SNAP!” one of them yelled.

The boy who’d offered her the hit, a big, muscular guy who she knew had been kicked off the football team, turned bright red.

“What’d you say to me, bitch?” he said, standing.

She looked up. He was much taller than she remembered, at least 6’ 6”. She could feel Caleb’s grip on her shoulder tighten. She didn’t know whether it was because he was urging her to keep calm, or because he was tensing up himself.

The tension in the room rose dramatically.

The Rottweiler crept closer. He was now only feet away. And growling like crazy.

“Jimbo, relax,” Sam said to the big kid.

There was protective Sam. No matter what, protective of her. “She’s a pain in the ass, but she didn’t mean it. She’s still my sister. Just chill.”

“I did mean it,” Caitlin yelled, angrier than ever. “You guys think you’re so cool? Getting my little brother high? You’re all a bunch of losers. You’re going nowhere. You want to mess your own lives, go ahead, but don’t drag Sam into it!”

Jimbo look even angrier, if possible. He took a few threatening steps towards her.

“Well look who it is. Miss teacher. Miss mommy. Here to tell us all what to do!”

A chorus of laughter.

“Why don’t you and your faggot boyfriend here come make me!”

Jimbo stepped closer and reached up with his big paw of a hand, and pushed Caitlin on the shoulder.

Big mistake.

The anger exploded inside of Caitlin, beyond anything she could control. The second that Jimbo’s finger touched her, she reached up with lightning speed, took his wrist, and twisted it back. There was a loud crack as his wrist broke.

She raised his wrist high behind his back, and shoved him, face first, into the ground.

In less than a second, he was on the ground, on his face, helpless. She stepped up and put her foot on the back of his neck, holding it firmly on the floor.

Jimbo screamed out in pain.

“Jesus Christ, my wrist, my wrist! Fucking bitch! She broke my wrist!”

Sam stood up, as did all the others, staring, shocked. He seemed really shocked. How his little sister could have taken down such a huge guy, and so fast, he had no idea.

“Apologize,” Caitlin snarled at Jimbo. She was shocked at the sound of her own voice. It sounded guttural. Like an animal.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Jim yelled, whimpering.

Caitlin wanted to just let him go, let it be over with, but a part of her just couldn’t do it. The rage had overcome her too suddenly, too strongly. She just couldn’t let it go. It was still continuing to course, to build. She wanted to kill this boy. It was beyond reason, but she really did.

“Caitlin!?” Sam yelled. She could hear the fear in his voice. “Please!”

But Caitlin couldn’t let go. She was really going to kill this boy.

At that moment, she heard a snarl, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dog. It leapt, in midair, its teeth aimed right for her throat.

Caitlin reacted instantly. She let go of Jimbo and in one motion, caught the dog in midair. She got under him, grabbed hold of his stomach, and threw him.

He went flying through the air, ten feet, twenty, with such force that he went across the room and through the wooden wall of the barn. The wall cracked with a splintering noise, as the dog yelped and went flying out the other side.

Everyone in the room stared at Caitlin. They couldn’t process what they’d just witnessed. It had clearly been an act of superhuman strength and speed, and there was no possible explanation for it. They all stood there, mouths agape, staring.

Caitlin felt overwhelmed with emotion. Anger. Sadness. She didn’t know what she felt, and she didn’t trust herself anymore. She couldn’t speak. She had to get out of there. She knew Sam wouldn’t come. He was a different person now.

And so was she.