Chapter 185: 5.17 – Enrico Haynes/ Yves Garland

Enrico Haynes

"Was that Miles' voice?" Enrico Haynes whispered to his best friend and fraternity brother, Charles Monde. He immediately switched off his light and elbowed Charles to signal him to do the same.

"Why are—?"

"Shhh! Keep it down," Enrico hissed as he crouched to hide behind the slope of the hill. He pointed his gun further up the hill, fruitlessly trying to spot if someone was coming down in the near-total darkness.

"Okay, man. Chill." Charles matched the low volume of his voice and also bent down. "Shouldn't we go looking for Miles? That was his voice, right?"

"Yeah, and he got cut off. Someone else is out there."

"Shit, really?" Charles took out his gun from inside his jacket. "The ‘someone’ who tied Grayson to a post?" Before they rushed to these sandy hills because of the screams they heard, they had found Grayson—also known in their fraternity as the second 'Charles'—unconscious and chained to a wooden post by the abandoned store.

Grayson's face was covered with blood from his severely broken and almost flattened nose. Enrico would like to think that he felt Grayson's breath on his cheek as he checked him, but he wasn't too sure. From the angle of his legs, they seemed to be fractured. Maybe his arm as well. He must've been tortured moments before they arrived because the blood was still fresh.

And what’s the connection of those girls to all of this?

Enrico was certain that the blue car parked near the store was driven by the two girls he saw at the diner. Tahir did text him that Grayson had the idiotic idea to continue chasing after them. He couldn’t contact Grayson or Tahir afterward because of the weak signal in this area. Actually, he was incredibly lucky that they decided to check this abandoned gas station instead of continuing down the road trying to catch up to a truck that wasn’t there.

One of his guesses was that the girls had friends who came to help them. For them to leave Grayson in that state…that dumbass probably did something really bad.

"Maybe ‘someones’,” Enrico said to Charles. “A single person can’t have done this." He crawled on the ground with his knees and elbows, taking care to make as little sound as possible. Fortunately, the hill was mostly sand with random shrubbery he could use to hide. The fine grains barely made any noise as he moved. "Come, let's try to find where our brothers are."

"Find? We can't even see squat," Charles derisively whispered. But he still followed Enrico.

"Then these bastards, whoever they are, also can't see us."

"Man, this is dangerous as hell," Charles muttered as he crawled faster to be beside Enrico. "I think we should just wait for the police," he tried to persuade him. "Corey should’ve contacted them by now. Maybe…"

After they saw the broken window of Grayson's truck and the traces of blood, Enrico immediately told Corey to drive somewhere with a signal so he could call the police for help.

"And how long will it take them to come here?" Enrico shot back. "We're in the middle of nowhere at an ungodly hour."

"Err...yeah..."

"Our brothers could be dying right now. Let's hurry," he said with gritted teeth. I’m going to kill these fucking bastards who dared do this to our fraternity!

Enrico didn’t care much about Grayson. In fact, he thought Grayson deserved a good beating. But he was his brother, and the brotherhood came first. He didn’t want the police to arrive before he could take care of these cowards who tortured his brothers.

A few years ago, when Enrico was still a new member, a rival fraternity jumped on his brothers as they came out of their favorite club. He was supposed to pick up the drunk seniors—expected duties of a first-year—and saw the whole thing happen while he was waiting in the parking area.

He hid behind his car and didn’t do anything to help them. What could he do? He didn't even have a gun or know how to do any sort of first aid to help his brothers after their attackers left. All he did was call the cops and waited. As years passed, he realized he could’ve done so much more back then rather than just twiddle his thumbs.

Now, he was resolved to uphold the brotherhood no matter what.

He believed something similar was happening right now—someone had a beef with his brothers and jumped on them. But this time, it shouldn't be a rival organization. They had mostly been at peace with everybody he could think of for the last year or so. No, this was somebody else. This wasn't a fraternity issue.

But it is now.

If these guys who attacked Grayson and the rest weren’t friends of the girls they harassed, Enrico could think of other possibilities.

It wouldn't surprise him if this was related to other women Grayson had 'harassed' in the past—for his own conscience, Enrico had decided to stick with this term even though his brother had done a wide array of acts beyond harassment.

Perhaps an angry father who rounded his friends together to get revenge for his daughter? Or could they be Aubrey's brothers? Those guys did try to attack them in court when they had the case dismissed using their connections.

Enrico wasn't proud of covering for Grayson. But he was certain his brother would do the same for him. Of course, the difference was that Enrico wasn't doing anything that needed covering—other than his covering for others. In the end, they were fraternity brothers, and they were brothers to the end.

"So, what's the plan here?" Charles softly said.

"Get behind them," Enrico said. "And shut up." These mysterious assholes had certainly heard them and knew they were somewhere nearby. Both groups were in the dark. Both groups were armed—Enrico thought it was prudent to assume that these guys also had guns. It was an even fight.

Everything was quiet. If only Miles or their other brothers could make another sound so Enrico would know where to go. Were they all unconscious? Were they dead? Maybe he should crawl forward and—he tensed up. There were faint noises of shifting sand. Someone was approaching.

"Hear that?" whispered Charles.

“Quiet.”

That someone was getting closer. Very light footsteps. This person was shuffling his feet.

"He-help me..." called a weak girl's voice. "Please help...anyone..."

'Her' feet, not 'his'. And she sounded hurt which explained the weird way she walked. Charles lurched up, but Enrico pulled him down and also stopped him from turning on his phone. "Wait," he told Charles.

This must be one of the girls from the diner. Was she trying to trap them for her friends? Or was she a victim herself and used as bait to draw them out? In either case, he decided it was better to wait and see, or rather listen for more clues. As long as there was no light and they didn't make noise, their enemies wouldn't be able to find them.

Suddenly, Charles pulled away from his grasp. "Hey!" Enrico whispered in surprise. This idiot!

Then there was light; Charles had turned on his phone. Enrico quickly crawled away so he wouldn't be seen. He clenched his teeth in annoyance as he surveyed their surroundings. He was ready to shoot anyone who'd attack Charles. If he also revealed himself, they’d both be caught in this potential trap.

"Help me please..." the girl weakly said as Charles approached her. She was short, thin, and had black hair.

Enrico was sure he'd seen her at the diner. She must be the friend of the stunningly gorgeous blonde woman Grayson was trying to hit on. Her clothes had tears and were bloodied. She also had blood on her arms and face—a victim used to bait them out. And Charles stupidly fell for the bait.

"Show yourselves, you bastards," Enrico hissed under his breath. He laid flat on the ground, his hand tightly gripping the handle of his gun.

Charles approached the girl. Enrico tensed, expecting an ambush. But nothing happened. Charles said, "Miss! Are you hurt?"

Enrico shook his head. Charles and his stupid questions.

"I am...yes. Ugh, they hurt..." was what she probably replied. Enrico couldn't clearly hear.

Charles tried to get the girl's arm to put around his shoulder, but she violently flinched and pushed him away, probably in pain. She fell to the ground. Charles rushed to her aid and kneeled beside her. "Enrico! She's hurt, man!" he shouted as he helped her up.

Motherfucking dumbass! Enrico cursed in his mind. After seeing Grayson's state, Charles still didn't have a sense of the danger they were in?

"Adumbrae!" someone shouted.

Enrico jerked in surprise. That was definitely Yves' voice even if he had heard the timid first-year talk only a handful of times. And what was he warning them about?

He craned his neck, looking for Yves. He was tempted to use his phone, but he stopped. Did Yves say Adumbrae? What the hell?

It was a warning that Enrico would've scoffed at a month ago, but after what had happened in La Esperanza, including his own experience narrowly escaping some of the mushroom monsters a few days ago, he didn't immediately dismiss it.

"She's an Adumbrae!" Yves yelled again. Enrico wasn't mistaken about what he heard. “RUN!”

"Huh? Yves!" Charles shouted in the darkness. "Yves! Come here! We're here to—Urgk!" A sickening crunching sound followed. The light dimmed as Charles probably dropped his phone and it pointed away from them.

Enrico turned to his friend with his gun and phone raised. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, his finger over the trigger. He was met with a gruesome sight.

Charles was facing Enrico, his blank eyes reflecting the phone's light.

But his whole body faced the other direction. The black-haired girl stood beside Charles, holding his head with both her hands. The rest of Charles' body hang limply from his head in an almost kneeling position because the girl was much shorter than he was.

She shook his head like it was a magic eight-ball. His ragdoll body swept the sand. Then she turned his head left and right like she was using a steering wheel, seemingly experimenting with something while muttering to herself words Enrico couldn't hear. She still hadn’t looked in Enrico's direction, focused on whatever she was doing with Charles' dead body.

Charles’ lifeless eyes continued to stare into the empty desert.

The most logical thing to do was to run. However, rage filled Enrico's heart and clouded his judgment. Charles wasn't only his fraternity brother, he was a close friend even before they joined the fraternity.

"I'm going to kill you!" the usually calm and collected Enrico shouted with all the anger bursting inside him. The girl—no, the Adumbrae—finally looked at him. "Die!" He fired his gun.

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Yves Garland

Tahir... Enrico... Dead. Everyone is dead! Yves Garland thought that despite hearing Enrico's angry cursing echo through the dark desert punctuated by gunshots. He counted the only senior brother who was actually nice to him in the fraternity as a goner. There was no way he’d survive the Adumbrae.

Should have I not warned them? What if he didn't yell that Twig Girl was an Adumbrae? Would they have lived?

Probably only for a little longer. The Adumbrae was going to kill them all.

There were no more screams.

Yves ran faster back to the store, back to the gasoline station.

"Sti-still no signal?" His voice cracked as he checked his phone. He sporadically turned on his phone's light to make sure his path was clear. If he left it on, the Adumbrae would easily find him.

Tears ran down the side of his eyes, and he felt like he was about to puke from desperation and anxiety. Just keep running!

Everyone was dead.

Lee, Bridger, and Grayson—those three they left behind at the old store. There was nothing he could do to save them. Even Grayson with his gun wasn't able to do anything. Yves had heard Tahir scream; the Adumbrae found his best friend. And he had seen Miles die. Charles...And now Enrico.

Everyone was dead.

And he was next.

No...not everyone. There was still someone else alive beside him.

Earlier, after Yves had climbed out of the store, he was faced with two decisions: run back to the pick-up truck or flee to the hills behind the store. The truck was the no-brainer answer.

Except that its lights were turned off.

Someone had gotten to it—probably the blonde friend of Twig Girl. He didn't know if she was an Adumbrae worshiper or an Adumbrae herself, but meeting her wouldn't do him any good. The pick-up truck was a trap.

And so, he chose the hills. Tahir and Miles, who were also able to escape the store, followed him.

"Please, Mother Core," Yves prayed as he ran. "Please...I pray that I made the right choice!" It was a split-second decision while he was on top of the hill looking down at Charles and the Adumbrae.

Running deeper into the desert seemed like the best choice for survival. But Yves didn't immediately follow his instincts—the Adumbrae had managed to find them once, even in the total darkness. She would certainly find him again. However, going back to the gasoline station sounded like a worse idea. And Yves wasn't even considering it until he spotted something from his vantage point atop the hill.

He caught a glimpse of light from the gasoline station. It wasn't from Grayson's truck. It wasn't from the car that the Adumbrae girls drove either.

The headlights were from Enrico's sports car. And the light was moving—someone was driving! Yves recalled that Corey and Charles were riding with Enrico to the Fair. Since Charles and Enrico were dead, Corey must be the one driving it.

He only had to get to the car first before Blondie would show up, and then they could quickly escape!

In his haste descending the hills in the darkness, Yves tumbled twice. And twice he quickly stood up, not minding his aching body.

He flickered his phone to check where he was. He had returned to the back of the store. His dead fraternity brothers were inside—No! Don't think about that! The urge to vomit returned as his mind was filled with images of dismembered corpses. There was a hint of blood in the air.

Run! Run! It was faint, but from the corner of the store, he could see the beams of the headlights. That was his ticket out of here. He turned the corner and saw—

"Grayson?" His senior brother was lying by the entrance of the store. Grayson's face was covered with blood, chains coiled around his legs.

Yves paused for a second, shook his head, and then rushed to Enrico's car. He was unwilling to waste one more second looking at someone he couldn't help. If he didn't leave this place soon, his fate was going to be the same as theirs.

The red sports car stopped beside the pick-up truck. Yves frantically waved his hand holding his lit phone as he crossed the gas station, almost running into a rusty pump. Did Corey see him? Where was Blondie?

"Help! Help!" he shouted. "Corey!" He couldn't make out who was in the driver's seat. Something was coating the windshield, or was that his imagination?

He swallowed hard as he neared the car. Something was wrong. He shone his phone's light on the windshield.

"AAAH!" Yves tumbled back in surprise and fell to the ground. Blood! Blood had splattered the windshield from the inside of the car! Corey was dead. How was the car still moving?

"Hello," said a female voice as if to answer the question in his mind.

Yves heart, beating hard like it would burst out of his chest, abruptly ground to a stop. There was a tingling sensation as his blood drained from his hands and face. Everything felt very cold, colder than it was before. The light shook as his hand holding the phone incessantly trembled. He pointed his phone at the person walking forward from behind the car.

"Is...is he dead?" Yves asked Blondie as she came into view. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that she showed up.

Her stunning beauty almost beat back the sheer terror coursing through his veins. But the blood on her clothes and arms brought him back to reality.

She didn't answer his question; the answer was already obvious. Yves didn't know why even asked it.

The blonde woman stopped beside the passenger's window and pulled out something from inside the car. It was a bloody shovel. Yves didn't need to be told it was Corey's blood on it.

He tried to stand up and run, but his legs wouldn't listen to him—they just spasmed beneath him without any strength as if he had an intense leg workout the day before.

As certain death stared at him in the face, his mind cleared and everything clicked. Why did I come here?

Even before descending the small hills, he should've known that this wasn't the way to escape. In his fear-stricken mind, Yves didn't wonder why the car was moving toward the gasoline station from the street. Enrico and the others wouldn't have parked that far by the road just to walk all the way here.

It was clear to him now that Corey probably saw something that scared him, and he tried to escape. But Blondie caught up with him—Yves had no clue how that happened—and killed him. She was pushing the car back to the station, probably to hide it, when Yves saw its headlights.

His lips and jaws trembled as he spoke, "Are...are you human? If you're human, maybe you can—" He stopped himself.  That's a stupid question. She definitely wasn't.

He could be dead in a few seconds, and he was the most scared he had been in all his life, but there was a wave of bravery he never thought he had in him. It calmed him down and allowed him to think more clearly.

I’m not dead yet! Maybe there was a chance he could plea for his life with this Adumbrae. He prayed in his head, Mother Core! If you're real, please let me get out of this alive!

Yves took a deep breath and tried again. "I-I'm sorry about...about back then at the diner. They told me to, I mean I was scared of them, so I followed them. I di-didn't mean to offend you, I swear! And I'm really sorry!"

The blonde woman didn't respond to his words. Instead, she asked him, "What's happening over there? What happened to my friend?"

"You're friend?" She must mean the other Adumbrae, the thin girl with black hair. He decided to answer truthfully. "Um...um, she turned into a monster—"

"DON'T CALL HER A MONSTER!" She stabbed the shovel into the hood of the car.

"I'm sorry!" With trembling arms and legs, Yves bowed down low. His phone was by his side, illuminating Blondie’s legs. "I'm really sorry, I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to call her that." His forehead was sticking to the ground. He closed his eyes as he continued apologizing, expecting any moment to be his last.

"Did you see her transform?"

"No! No, I-I didn't! Everything was dark, and...and I only saw her again when she turned back."

"Back?" She walked closer to him. He still had his eyes closed but he heard her footsteps.

"Back! Back to her, um, body before, with the black hair." Yves didn't want to mention the word 'human', because it might offend the Adumbrae.

"Hmm? Then that means she's not Blanchette anymore." She sighed in relief. There was a loud noise of tearing metal. Yves guessed she pulled the shovel from the car. "That's good...that's good...." she muttered. "She has herself under control again."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything," Yves repeated. "Sorry, sorry..." He clenched his fists. Should I make a run for it?  No. She would catch him with her enhanced physical capabilities. On foot, he had no chance.

"But she's not hungry anymore?" Blondie mumbled as she paced beside him, dragging the shovel around. He flinched as it rattled on the stones. "So she doesn't need you guys anymore."

Yves swiftly gathered his resolve. If there's a time for me to be brave, it should be now! He should surprise her, get in Enrico's car, push Corey's dead body aside, and then...then run her over.

Yes! He was going to crash into her, then reverse back to the main road and drive away fast. She should be incapacitated enough not to chase him down as she did with Corey. First, I'm going to grab her legs and pull—

"Instead of grabbing my legs," she said, interrupting his feverish planning, "you better close your eyes, and I'll give you a quick death."

What did she say? Yves saw with the corner of his eye that she raised the shovel she carried. He was still bent down on the ground. Now or never! He reached for her legs.

And the shovel head's edge bit into the back of his skull, continuing down to roughly cut his head in half.