Contents
Title Page
One: Amber
Two: Ricky
Three: Amber
Four: Ricky
Five: Amber
Six: Ricky
Seven: Amber's Story
Eight: Alan
Nine: Ricky
Ten: Amber
Eleven: Ricky
Twelve: Amber
Thirteen: Ricky
Fourteen: Amber
Fifteen: Alan
Sixteen: Amber
Seventeen: Alan
Eighteen: Ricky
Nineteen: Amber
Twenty: Alan
Twenty-One: Amber
Twenty-Two: Alan
Twenty-Three: Ricky
Twenty-Four: Amber
Twenty-Five: Ricky
Twenty-Six: Amber
Twenty-Seven: Ricky
Twenty-Eight: Amber
Twenty-Nine: Ricky
Thirty: Amber
Thirty-One: Ricky
Thirty-Two: Amber
Thirty-Three: Alan
Thirty-Four: Ricky
Thirty-Five: Amber
Thirty-Six: Ricky
Thirty-Seven: Ricky
Thirty-Eight: Amber
Thirty-Nine: Ricky
Forty: Amber
Forty-One: Ricky
Forty-Two: Amber
Forty-Three: Alan
Forty-Four: Amber
Forty-Five: Ricky
Forty-Six: Alan
More - Migrators
More - Until the Sun Goes Down
More - Until Dawn
More - Accidental Evil
UNTIL THE END
BY
IKE HAMILL
WWW.IKEHAMILL.COM
Dedication:
For Blaze. Earl & I miss you every day.
Special Thanks:
Thanks to Lynne, as always, for the edits.
Copyright © 2020 Ike Hamill
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events have been fabricated only to entertain. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the consent of Ike Hamill.
One: Amber
“Hello?”
“Amber?”
“Yes, Ricky. You called me. Who else would it be?” she asked.
“You sound different, is all.”
“Yeah,” she said, sighing. “I’ve been through it lately. What’s up?”
“What do you know about epigenetics?”
Amber leaned back against the brick wall and propped a foot up on the porch railing.
“Let’s see,” she said with another sigh. “Epi from Greek means on or over. Genetics is pretty self-explanatory. So, it’s on top of genetics?”
He paused before he answered.
“That’s pretty good. Yeah, from what I understand that’s about right. It’s a field that studies how one’s genes can be expressed, or not, based on environmental factors.”
“I thought we were only going to talk again if you had concrete information,” she said.
The only response she got was silence.
Amber shook her head.
“Sorry. I’ll hold off on…”
“No, I don’t mean it,” she said. “I’m just dealing with stuff. This will be a good distraction. Tell me about epigenetics.”
Ricky started slow and picked up steam as he got into his explanation.
“So, let’s say that your grandparents went through a famine. It would be beneficial if their kids and grandkids were smaller and required less food. Those kinds of changes have to act quickly, so instead of changing the genes themselves, like through evolution, there’s a process that just switches genes on and off.”
“So the changes aren’t permanent?”
“Right. From generation to generation, they can be reversed if the food supply comes back or whatever.”
Amber let that sink in. She knew Ricky would get to the point eventually.
“What do you know about blood types?”
Amber laughed.
“Get to the point, Ricky.”
“Well, I started thinking—what if the attack on us wasn’t random?”
“It wasn’t. They followed Nick back to the hotel from the train tracks.”
“But why us? And with that whole hotel full of people, why did they choose the people they chose?”
“You tell me.”
“Because there was something particularly alluring about us. I think it was epigenetics. I think that the experiences we’ve all had in our lives made us so attractive to those things that they couldn’t resist, even though they don’t usually try to tackle an entire hotel.”
“What experiences?”
“I don’t know for sure yet, but I think that what happened to you in your uncle’s house, for starters. Maybe what happened to me when I was a kid. I don’t know about the rest of the people. But think about it—If you were some kind of paranormal creature that stayed alive mainly through obscurity, it would make sense for you to target people who had been through interactions with the paranormal.”
“Why?”
“To hide,” Ricky said. “If you eliminate all the people who believe, then you’re only left with nonbelievers. Someone who doesn’t believe in you isn’t going to hunt you, right?”
“I suppose. Tell me, is this a Ricky-ism, or do you have some evidence to support this theory?”
“I have tons of evidence. Not one bit of it is at all credible,” he said with a laugh.
“Perfect. And you’re calling me because…”
“I need a plan. You’re the best planner I know.”
“That can’t possibly be true,” she said.
“Well,” he said. “You’re the best planner I know who wouldn’t laugh me out of the room at the notion of chameleon vampires stalking the Maine countryside.”
Amber laughed.
“That, I can believe.”
# # #
Amber was still laughing as she disconnected the phone. For a moment, she imagined everything was right with the world. The soft light filtering through the trees made the world look so tranquil. She could almost imagine pushing up from the porch stairs and floating through that light, up to the peach-colored clouds.
A voice interrupted her peace. “I like it when you laugh like that.”
The smile disappeared from Amber’s face. She didn’t turn to look at him.
“What do you want, Shawn?”
“Nothing from you. I don’t need a thing from you. I came here to see if Mrs. Evelyn needed anything from the shop.”
“I’m back now, Shawn. You can stop pretending to care about her.”
“Are you forgetting that I’ve known Mrs. Evelyn longer than you have?”
“I’m her family.”
“Understood. And I’m the one who took care of her when you escaped off to Maine.”
The porch stairs were too narrow for him to get around. With her feet propped on the iron railing, if he wanted to go inside, he was going to have to step over her legs. She had no intention of moving.
“I’m back.”
“Just like I said you would be. I predicted that as soon as you had your first taste of Maine snow, you would come running back to us.”
“You never said that.”
“I said it around. Ask anyone. And it turned out to be completely true.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
He didn’t have to reply. She heard it in the silence—he was thinking, “And yet here you are.” He wanted to believe that she really came back because of him. That wasn’t true either. His presence was the thing that almost kept her from returning.
Still staring up at the soft light in the trees, Amber said, “If you want to talk to my cousin, use the phone, Shawn. I don’t need you in my house.”
Amber looked down to show him her resolve—that she really meant what she was saying—but he had already left. Shawn had disappeared around the corner of the house.
Climbing back to her feet with the aid of the iron railing, Amber
