Page 58 of Vampires & Bikers

Then, suddenly, it came to me. A song she used to sing to me when I was a little girl. It was about the sun and beach and how much fun it was to have ice cream when it was hot. Whenever I was feeling down or ill, she’d sing the song to me and pull funny faces until I smiled. She would ask me what ice cream flavors I liked and distract me with silly talk like this.

After one of her spells, when she’d been admitted to the hospital, I’d sung the song for her. Lying in bed next to her, I sang to her about the fun we were going to have at this mystery place. She asked me where it was and I named the only places I knew on the coast, Lolla and Britney Peak and Cape Falls.

“Oh,” she said in a thin voice. “I’ve heard of Cape Falls. It’s real quiet there and at night you hear the waves rolling and turning.”

“Then that’s where we’ll go,” I said.

Could that be what she’d meant?

Cape Falls was past the swamp though, the path there led through the worst of the war. Would she really risk going that close to our enemies? My mother was brave though, I knew she wouldn’t let herself be deterred by the possibility of being detected.

I decided to give it a go. I had a full tank of fuel and the bike was strong. After a few hours though, my arm was beginning to throb painfully and I had to take a break. I pulled off to the side of the road, fully aware of the dangers of doing this but I needed to rest.

I pulled the bike into the undergrowth and hid it from the road. Then I crawled underneath some bushes and closed my eyes, falling asleep instantly. I woke up in the middle of the night and listened carefully before I pushed my bike out and got it started again. It wasn’t as easy as in the daylight and my arm was still stiff. Still, I kept going. Cars and bikes passed me, some of them tried to flag me down and I even drove through a road block, slowing down as if to stop, then revving up at the last minute. I heard shots and ducked down low over the handlebars. I was stopping for no one.

By dawn, I saw the sign to turn off to the coast. To the right, were the swamps but I wanted Cape Falls, a town so magical that songs had been written about it. I drove past a city and started worrying that I had missed the turnoff, but then I saw the sign for Cape Falls. By mid-morning, I’d arrived in the sleepy town.

I parked the bike down at the jetty, where a few boats were moored. It was low key and quiet, not many houses or shops. It seemed like a holiday destination and I wondered if word of the war had even reached this place. It was so beautiful here. The water was the most incredible blue, with small waves heading for a golden beach that stretched out for miles. There was an ice cream shop and I walked over, buying myself a cone and staring at the horizon.

“Mesmerizing isn’t it?” someone said next to me.

I turned and there was my mother, in a big sun hat and huge sunglasses, beaming at me.

“Mom!” I dropped my ice cream and hugged her tightly.

“You’re here, you’re really here!”

“Where else was I gonna go? Let’s get you another ice cream.”

“How long have you been here? Where are you staying? How are you feeling?”

She laughed. “So many questions!” Then she hugged me again.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I knew you’d find me.”

Then she frowned. “What happened to you, your face?”

“I’ll tell you later,” I said.

We walked back, both of us getting ice cream this time and she took me to her small hotel near the beach. She said she’d been staying there for the last couple of days, basically hanging out at the beach and waiting for me.

“I knew you’d come,” she said.

She looked well but I could see dark circles under her eyes.

In her hotel room, we sat on her bed and I told her everything. About Luc and the shifters, about being kidnapped and beaten up and Luc rescuing me again. I bit my lip and told her about the hotel room.

“So that’s why it took you so long to get here!” my mother laughed knowingly.

“I’m so sorry! I feel terrible!”

But she shook her head. “You had to get better, I mean look at you!” I pulled up my shirt, and showed her the bruising on my ribs, my stitched up arm.

She frowned and insisted on getting some ointments.

“I’m better mom, really,” I insisted. “We can’t stay here though.”

“Why not?”

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