Ahead in the distance, she spotted a beautiful horse standing in the
water, and her decision was made.
“Screw you, you cannibal horse,” she shouted at the kelpie and
turned the opposite direction. It was enough of a sign for her.
Decision made, Meg began to jog.
It might have been a bad decision, Meg decided half an hour later.
She seemed to be walking toward the intensifying storm. The rain was
pelting her. There wasn’t an inch of her that wasn’t soaked. She
shivered as she hiked on.
After a few minutes, she heard a magnificent sound. It started like
a slight whir, and there was no mistaking its man-made nature. Well,
there was no mistaking its vampire-made nature.
She stopped and let the sound come to her. It didn’t take long. The
hover bike was fast. The bike got louder. The sound seemed almost
anxious to Meg’s ears. The rider was outfitted for the storm. He was
in head-to-toe water-repellant gear. Even his eyes were covered with
goggles. He steered the bike right toward her.
“Get on.” Dante had to shout over the noise of the storm. “We
need to talk, sister.”
Twenty minutes later, Meg took the towel Dante handed her. Like
everything else about Dante’s little camp, the towel was very high-
tech. She rubbed her hair, and suddenly, it was dry. She didn’t
question it. She was just grateful to be warm. The tent was toasty and
dry. There were soft lanterns giving the room a nice glow. It was
everything she could ask for.
290
Sophie Oak
“Where the hell have you been?” Dante asked, pouring himself a
Scotch. “Do you have any idea how bad things have gotten while you
were doing whatever it was you were doing?”