Why Colin?” I ask Aaron. I can’t not ask it. Maybe it’s my nerves or maybe it’s the silence. I am sorry that he starts awake.

“I like him.” He grins. “You have to admit he has a very cute arse.”

I sigh. “Why not me? Or Max?”

Aaron turns his head and looks at me. “I don’t know much about what is going on, but I have read enough paranormal horror to know that there is always a connection between the vampire and victim.”

“We are not…”

He holds a hand out to stop me. “Maybe not, but it’s all I had for a reference.” He then gives a smug grin. “I was right too.”

I sigh. “Why not connect with me or Max then?”

“Because you are already connected and I find you attractive. It could get… complicated.”

I guess I can understand that. But I wish he…

Aaron grins at Conor. He’s not big for a five year old, but he is smart. In fact he is acting far more grown up than I thought he would. And there is no sign of trauma. I open my mouth to say something, but Max takes my arm and gives it a squeeze. He holds me back as the others leave the hangar.

When we are alone he turns me toward him. “Leave it.”

“What?” I say. I have an idea that he has been thinking the same as me.

“Conor…” Yep, he has.

“He should be acting… differently.”

“But he isn’t, and at the moment that is working in our favour. If we are still here…”

“I know,” I interrupt. “I’m just not sure if it healthy.”

“He is changing.”

I wince. Would Mel forgive me for turning her son into a monster? She wanted him alive but…

Max quickly gets to his feet and starts to move to the back of the hangar. I’m not sure why but I don’t follow. Instead, I fall to my knees next to Aaron. His eyes have become a little dull and I can hear that his heartbeat has sped up. I think he is actually dying. Max is suddenly back and in his hand is a syringe. He positions it above his own arm.

“Let me,” I say. I’m shocked I spoke. I look at him with wide eyes. I want to give my blood? I don’t understand where that came from.

“No,” Max says and he gives me a hard look. Aaron reaches out a hand and grasps my wrist.

“Not you,” he wheezes. His colour has gone very grey. He looks at Max. “Or you.” He shifts his eyes to Colin who is standing with Conor. “Him.”

I…

Conor looks at me. “Is that a gun?”

I nod. “But it is empty.”

I start to scan the horizon but I can see nothing except the hanger. I look at Max and he gives a quick nod.

“I’ll go first,” Colin says.

Max hands Conor to me and whispers in my ear to say back. My face wrinkles at that. I have no wish to be the one at the back, but then someone must look after Conor. The kid waits until Max and Colin are a distance away before he starts to wriggle.

“What?” I ask.

“I want to walk,” he says.

“Are you feeling okay?”

He nods. I must admit he isn’t hot and his eyes are clear. Slowly I put him on the ground and he gives a smile. We start to walk toward the hangar. Conor picks up his pace and is jogging.

“Bitsy,” he…

GLIDE – to movesmoothlyandcontinuouslyalong, as if withouteffort or resistance. 

Although these snails came gliding through my letterbox, I am by no means implying that they came as easy as the word glide suggests.

The journey of each snail is one of significance.  I am not sure this completely makes sense but hopefully the snails will help explain –  They are effortlessly easy on the eye but they each have a story to tell.

Thank you from the bottom of my shell for sending a snail in the mail. – I hope that each snail continues to act as a puzzle piece and can spread sillyness, thoughtfullness and a way to help us glide!

Here they are!…..

This chap came from Berlin via Devon and is by the super talented illustrator Jayde Perkin. Eine Schnecke looks like he has a lot of character, just like the people that…

I turn in a slow circle, keeping an eye out for the others getting too close.

“I’m scared,” Conor says. I give his slight frame a squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “We will be fine.”

“Where’s Max gone?”

“We have friends who are meant to be getting a helicopter ready.”

“Where are they?” Conor asks.

I nod toward the hangar. So far none of the others have noticed me or Conor but I know they will. I’m just glad that it isn’t a windy night. It is very still and that is helping us, stopping Conor’s almost human scent to spread. The problem is that no sooner have I thought it than an other turns and looks in my direction.

It lets out the mewling of a kitten and I wonder if there is a sort of language. I’m answered when five others turn and look in our direction.

“Shit,”…

I stand beside Conor and look out onto the street. In truth there isn’t much I can see, due to a hedge, but the figures moving around are visible.

“How long have they been there?” I ask.

“Since the sun started to go down,” Max says.

“We need to get out of here,” I say. Max meets my eyes and nods. The house isn’t secure and I want to get Conor out of the place. He doesn’t need to be here, with his parents dead upstairs.

“You didn’t change,” Max says.

Conor doesn’t look at me, but I glance down. Up to now I just haven’t. My jeans are covered in blood. Mel’s blood.

“Shit.”

I move at super-fast speed and go upstairs. I don’t look at Mel, I just reach her wardrobe and take a pair of trousers and a long sleeved top. I step over Philip and start…

Conor slumps back towards me as Max walks in. I turn the small body in my arms so I can see his face. His eyes are half closed.

“What’s the bite look like?” Max asks.

I look at his arm. Before there was no sign of infection but now I can see red threads expanding out from it. They are raised and the whole arm looks swollen.

“We need to hurry,” Max says. He hands me a glass that is filled with a red liquid. I can smell blood. I look at him.

“I have no serum left,” he says. “So we are going to have to go traditional.”

Slowly I start to tip the liquid into Conor. It only takes a minute and then the kid takes the glass and is guzzling it down. He finishes and smiles. I know he is still the little boy I knew but…