Blood + Water: Blood + Water, #1

By Joss Hart

All Sarah Edwards wants for her fifteenth birthday is an end to the violent nightmares of blood, water, and monsters that sent her into therapy and put a strain on her once-happy family. Instead, she gets a death in the family.

 

Traveling cross-country for her grandmother's funeral, she and her siblings, Tia and RJ, find themselves on Keener's Lake near the mountain-nestled town of Hope Falls. To Sarah, the place holds a certain mystique; it's where she was born, and she knows the biological father she doesn't remember is out there somewhere.

But Hope Falls isn't the idyllic town it seems to be. The lake is dark and deep. The neighbors are superstitious. And people go missing in the woods.

 

Sometimes they never come back. What's worse is when they do.

 

With a growing sense of alienation, Sarah discovers the truth about her nightmares - and her heritage - while Tia and RJ race against time to save her and their parents from the dark forces at work in Hope Falls. Not all monsters are confined to creature features and videogames. Not all families are bonded by blood. And those bonds will be tested before Sarah's nightmare is over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Larkinfree Press
• Release date: Oct 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215878309

Book preview

Part One

On Keener’s Lake

4/21

I’VE BEEN HAVING NIGHTMARES. Dr. Lane said I should write them down to keep track of stuff that might cause them, the good, the bad, and the ugly. So here goes:

What am I feeling right now? Annoyed. Tired. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to talk to a shrink either. Both Mom and Marcus think it will help, though, and they promise me they’ve both talked to shrinks before and it’s not as big of a deal as I’m making it out to be. But they didn’t have nightmares like mine. This isn’t normal.

BUT... I’m tired of waking up screaming and being too scared to even try to sleep. Everyone else is tired of it, too. RJ and Tia are fighting more, and they act like I’m diseased. What if I write down my worst nightmares and they read it? I don’t want to be responsible for ruining their childhoods. And then they’ll really know there’s something wrong with me.

I don’t want to talk about The Nightmare or keep a record of it. Not with family, not with a stranger. I have a headache. It’s hard to focus. I’m angry and I hate this. I want things to go back to normal. I want everything to just be all right.

Chapter One

The Lake House

SARAH OPENED HER EYES as the car bounced to a halt. She squinted out her window at the crowded trees surrounding the driveway. Dull, pre-dawn light peeked through their branches.

Are we here? she asked, stifling a yawn. She glanced at the dashboard clock. It read 5:27 AM. They’d been driving all night.

Yup, Marcus said. We’re here. You sleep at all?

Sarah shrugged. In the backseat, her younger siblings, RJ and Tia, were asleep, tangled up in a knot of dark, skinny arms and legs. They’d had no trouble sleeping through the drive, and Sarah felt a pang of jealousy at that. She’d dozed but hadn’t really slept. She didn’t want to deal with the nightmares she knew were inevitable while on the road.

It’s nice here. Fresh air, her stepfather breathed deeply, beautiful scenery, peace and quiet. Give it a day or two. I bet this place is just what you need.

I bet this place is just what an axe murderer needs, she said, looking out the window again. The dark silhouette of Grams’s empty house looked like the set of a horror movie. Ahead, the corner of the front porch was illuminated by the headlights, bleaching the railing bone-white. Beyond that, the front yard sloped down toward the beach and lake. Stars reflected off the water’s still surface, but it was light enough to make out a pair of upside-down paddle boats resting on the sand. A somewhat rickety-looking pier extended into the water on the far side of the beach. Yup. It was exactly the sort of place an axe murderer might favor to kill wayward campers.

Kid, Marcus sighed as he got out of the car, keep writing them nightmares down. I can’t wait to read your first bestseller. You’re gonna end up a horror mogul, monsters on the brain like you have. Publishing contracts, movie deals. Gill-man’s ’bout to get a gritty reboot.

The young woman rolled her eyes as he disappeared around the side of the house, waxing-prophetic about her future career. Most of her nightmares she kept to herself and Dr. Lane. She’d only told Marcus a watered-down version of The Nightmare because he’d woken her from a particularly vivid version of it last week. Now she wished she hadn’t.

Getting out of the car, her feet immediately went cold as the dew-laden grass soaked through her shoes and socks. Crisp, cool air, heavy with the scent of pine and earth, tickled her nose. Somewhere ahead, Marcus gave a low whistle, and Sarah followed the sound around to the front of the porch. Her stepfather was standing just inside the doorway, grinning.

Power’s out, he said, flipping on his phone’s flashlight. But would ya look at this place.

Stepping in beside him, Sarah looked around, following the beam of light. She had a vague recollection of the living room; the cushy couch and chairs around the large, stone fireplace, the lacy drapes over the windows, and the shapes of the books and objects decorating the shelves. It was nearly identical to how it had been when she was a child. She moved towards the fireplace as the beam of light passed over it.

Several framed photos sat atop the mantelpiece. One was of Marcus and her mother, Lilian, on their wedding day, Sarah dressed as a flower girl standing proudly between them. There was a more recent one of just Sarah, Tia, and RJ at the beach two summers ago, and another of the whole family at Disney World several years prior. She recognized herself as a toddler in one of the oldest pictures, a snapshot taken of her playing in the sand just outside this house. Looking at it, she realized it must have been taken just before she and her mother had left Hope Falls. She couldn’t have been much older than two at the time.

I remember that kid, Marcus said, joining her. He pointed his light at the photo in the next frame. This chick looks kinda familiar, too. I think I married her. Hey! I did!

Sarah rolled her eyes again but looked at the picture of her mother he had indicated. A teenage Lilian Edwards, née Fenhauer, was crouched on the end of the pier, releasing a fish back into the water and looking up over her shoulder, smiling at the camera. Gray eyes sparkled out from her deeply suntanned face, her golden-white hair cascading down her back. Someone stood beside her, their hand resting on her shoulder, but the photo had been cropped to remove them, and it sat off-center in the frame.

Kinda weird, your mom, Marcus said. I mean, who moves to Miami and decides to lose the tan and start dying their hair dark? Works for her, though. She is a fine, sexy woman. Mmm.

Ew, Marcus.

He chuckled. Come on, let’s wake up Tia and RJ and make them help unpack. They’ll love that.

Just remember that it was your idea to wake them when they start complaining, Sarah said and followed him back outside.

After some minor protests from the younger children, the car was unloaded, and Marcus went to find the breaker to turn the power on. Sarah sat down on the porch and watched the sky lighten over the lake as she kept an eye on her six-year-old brother wandering around the beach, exploring the boats and glancing furtively at the water with an eager, barely-contained expression. Tia, on the other hand, stood on the porch next to Sarah staring at her phone and holding it up toward the sky. The nine-year-old looked appalled.

There’s no internet here. This place sucks.

Watch your language, Marcus called from inside. And your brother.

The girl stuck out her tongue and crossed her arms, glaring. A moment later, she seemed to accept her fate, and, with a sigh, climbed onto the porch rail to sit beside Sarah.

There are bugs here, she complained. I already saw a spider bigger than my hand.

Bugs are everywhere, Tia.

Yeah, but not freakishly big ones like that. All the bugs here are huge and they’re probably gonna crawl in our mouths while we sleep. She glanced around and brushed at her arms as if they were already crawling with bugs. And they’ll be crunchy, and I won’t even realize that I’m eating them. Quinn told me everyone eats eight spiders while they sleep, but I bet I’m gonna eat eight hundred just tonight.

It’s extra protein, Sarah said.

Tia shuddered. Then, she grew serious. What was Grams like?

I dunno. She came to visit us when RJ was a baby, remember? We went to Disney with her, and she rode on all the rides with you and me.

I don’t remember.

Sarah shrugged. You were about the same age I was when I moved away from here. I don’t really remember much of Grams either, except that trip.

Behind them, lights flickered on in the house. A moment later, Marcus returned.

"Power’s on, water’s running. Everyone can get their... potty on now. He grinned. Tia groaned, and Sarah tried not to smile. She shouldn’t encourage him. I’m gonna crash for a few hours so, Tia, keep an eye on RJ. And, Sarah, keep an eye on Tia. Try not to get eaten by bears or swarmed by bees. Wake me if there’s an emergency, but I’m talking, like, tsunami of lava or the world ran out of salsa level emergency, ’cuz I’m bushed!"

Laughing to himself, he disappeared inside again.

What are we supposed to do here? Tia asked. Sarah shrugged and grabbed a book, The Crucible, from her backpack. When she didn’t give an answer, Tia huffed and wandered down to the beach where RJ was digging in the sand.

Sarah started to read. Or tried to. She’d brought along some of the books she’d been assigned for her sophomore English class. Without internet, she thought she should get a head start on her upcoming school reading, but after a few minutes, she realized she was only reading the same two sentences over and over. Not now, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut as a tightness formed in her throat. It seemed futile. Everything was wrong. It had all started going wrong when they’d moved from Miami to New York the previous winter. That was when her nightmares had started, and her life had been ruined. Everyone at her new school thought she was weird for being tired and jumpy all the time, and once it got out that she was going to therapy any chance at a normal reputation was all over. The therapy with Dr. Lane had helped for a while. But it had all fallen apart on her birthday.

What a catastrophe.

First, the nightmares resurfaced with a vengeance. Then, the whole Bookstore Day humiliation happened. Sarah wasn’t sure she could ever go back to Maple Point High after that. Combined with a dozen other small disappointments over the course of the day, she thought nothing could possibly top the Worst Birthday Ever. At least until the next day when word of Grams’s death had arrived. Sarah stifled a sob, burying her face in the pages of her book. It wasn’t fair. She should be in Miami visiting her friends and going to a concert right now. That trip had been her one beacon of hope for this crappy year and even that had been dashed.

Immediately, she felt ashamed of her thoughts. Grams was dead. They were here to attend her funeral and spend time as family, healing from the loss. Despite not being close to the old woman, Sarah knew it was more important to be here now with her family for support than at a concert across the country without them.

Wiping her eyes, she composed herself and looked back down at the dampened pages. She took a deep breath—

Welcome home, Sarah.

The voice was a wintery breeze across the back of her neck. She tore her bleary gaze from the book and twisted around, studying the trees on the far side of the driveway. Her heart thumped in her chest, and she felt winded, as if the air around her had been suddenly sucked away. The branches swayed, rustling softly in the otherwise still forest, but there was no one there. Had she imagined the voice? She peered closer, feeling as if she were being watched—

—and nearly fell off the rail as Tia’s earsplitting shriek shattered the lakeside tranquility.

Sarah was on her feet in an instant, dropping the book and vaulting onto the grass. Then, she hesitated. RJ was laughing. As she walked to the beach, she saw Tia backing away from him, disgusted. Their little brother was sitting in the sand surrounded by a castle he’d built, holding a stick in his hand and waving it at Tia. Something large, gooey, and black drooped from it.

That’s disgusting. Get it away, Tia said. She sounded angry, but Sarah caught the waver in her sister’s voice, the slightest betrayal of fear. Tia hated showing fear.

What is it? Sarah asked.

A gross thing, RJ said, beaming with childish glee as he held up the stick so Sarah could see. It was in the water.

The gross thing elongated suddenly, lifting its tubular body, and stretched toward her. A tiny mouth opened and closed on its tip. Then it writhed and curled over upon itself.

It’s a leech. A really big, Amazonian-sized leech, Sarah said. They suck blood, you know. Like vampires.

That’s cool, RJ said.

That’s nasty, you mean, Tia said. Kill it.

The boy cackled in delight, thrusting the stick at Tia again. She shrieked.

Ew! Stop it, RJ, or I’ll throw your Gameboy in the lake!

If you do, Mom and Dad’ll ground you forever.

The girl’s eyes narrowed—her brother made a good point. Taking advantage of her hesitation, RJ brandished the leech again. With a yelp, Tia scurried back to the porch, kicking apart his sandcastle as she fled. When she reached the stairs, she stopped and turned back, glowering with her hands on her hips. But the damage had been done. The little boy screamed after her, tears brimming in his eyes.

Tiaaaa! You ruined it! I hate you!

Sarah winced, her brother’s shrill voice like an icepick through her brain. RJ, stop.

She’s so mean!

Yeah, but you were trying to put that leech on her.

I wasn’t gonna really. I just wanted to scare her.

Well, that’s impossible, right? She nudged him. Listen, I’ll help you build a better castle later. A big one. She lowered her voice conspiratorially. And maybe we’ll bury Tia in the sand, okay?

Not that Tia would let them, but Marcus would volunteer in her stead, and RJ would get no end of entertainment from that. When the boy nodded, Sarah motioned for the stick. The leech had nearly reached his hand.

Let me see that, she said. He handed it to her. The leech undulated, waving its head around as Sarah examined it.

Are you gonna smash it? the boy asked, sounding disappointed.

No, she said. Salt killed leeches, she remembered. It dried them out, sucking all the water through their permeable skin. It seemed like a horrible way to die and made Sarah uncomfortable to think about. She tried to avoid killing bugs; usually they were just going about their bug-lives, meaning no harm, even when they came inside. This hadn’t been a problem when they’d lived in Miami where the weather was usually warm. Unfortunately, she felt that releasing the ones she found in their new home outside during the heart of an Upstate New York winter was a cruel and unusual punishment, so she’d taken to smashing them quickly so they didn’t suffer, instead. It was silly to feel guilty about it, but she had, and, once the weather warmed up, she’d resumed releasing the tiny home-invaders outside where they belonged.

Sarah walked out onto the pier, RJ trotting after her. When they reached the end, she threw the stick as far as she could into the lake.

It wasn’t doing any harm, she said. Let it be.

As they returned to the beach, Tia joined them. She pointed at the lake, horrified. I am not swimming in there. Not if that nasty thing is out there.

A mischievous grin spread across RJ’s face. Sensing he was about to begin another round of tortures on his sister, Sarah said: I don’t know about you guys, but I’m pretty hungry. How about breakfast?

Both children perked up at this, and she led them inside, unearthing the cooler and bags of food from the luggage pile. They went into the kitchen and, after a few minutes of exploring, found the bowls, silverware, and a toaster stored in one of the cabinets. 

After eating, both RJ and Tia were in better moods. Sarah dutifully put the food away as she waited for her toast to pop, familiarizing herself with the kitchen. It was roomy with large windows overlooking the backyard. A door led out onto a patio complete with a grill, picnic table, and bonfire pit. Below that, a spacious yard stretched out between the house and the woods. Near the edge of the trees stood a woodshed with a large apple tree beside it. Did she remember playing under that tree, perhaps in a sandbox that had once been there? The young woman wasn’t certain, but that seemed right.

Are we gonna have a fire? RJ said, noticing the bonfire pit. Pushing away his bowl, he ran outside to look. Sarah went after him, and Tia followed with a sigh.

This thing is huge! the boy said, dancing around it. It’s gonna be so awesome! We’re gonna make s’mores and burn all sorts of stuff.

Probably just wood, Tia said, unimpressed.

Walking out to the apple tree, Sarah looked around for a sandbox but found nothing to verify her half-recalled memory. She started back to the patio when the branches above her rustled. Something red and mottled green dropped past her face and plopped to the ground at her feet.

Looking down, she saw a large bullfrog lying belly-up on the grass. Its stomach was ripped open, pink guts exposed, and its legs jerked and spasmed as it struggled to right itself. Sarah stared, fascinated by its frantic movements. After a moment, these grew sluggish and then stopped altogether. Overhead, the branches rustled again, and the young woman looked up.

An enormous, black bird was perched in the tree just above her. It cocked its head, regarding her with a glittering, beady eye. Sarah took an instinctive step back. The raven’s beak was bloody and tipped with a sharp, wicked curve. It didn’t seem at all bothered by her presence, and it watched her back across the yard, silent and judging. When she felt the concrete patio under her feet, it gave a triumphant caw and swooped out of the tree, landing where she’d just been standing, and tore into the dead frog, tugging out a gob of red gore and swallowing it with a swift toss of its head.

Whoa, cool, RJ said, noticing the oversized bird.

Sarah tasted bile. Earlier in the year, when her biology class had dissected frogs, she’d felt queasy at the formaldehyde fumes and sight of viscera. She’d had to step out of the lab for fresh air along with a few other students. This was worse. Much worse. Suddenly, toast seemed like a terrible idea.

Ugh, Tia said. Nature is the worst.

4/28

MY THROAT HURTS. WOKE up screaming again. Woke everyone else up, too. It was bad.

Dr. Lane says worrying about waking everyone up might be making things worse. He recommended some herbal teas and to try meditating before bed. I got a cinnamon one. It’s pretty nice.

Tia thinks meditating is dumb. RJ said it was fun, but I think he just didn’t want to agree with her on principle.  She accused him of being a liar, and they started fighting. Go figure. I ended up reading to them to shut them up (side note: Tia also thinks Treasure Island is dumb, but RJ likes it, this time for real).

I feel kinda bad. Marcus went all Stern Voice on them for bugging me before bed and threatened grounding. Bet Tia’s gonna be a delight tomorrow.

Chapter Two

The First Day

SARAH TOOK SEVERAL slow, steady breaths before leaning over and retching. Then she hurried back inside. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, she filled it with water and took a small sip, swishing the liquid around her mouth, before spitting in the sink. She raised the cool glass to her forehead, went into the front room, and lay down on the couch. RJ and Tia followed her. They lingered in the doorway, staring at her with matching expressions of worry.

I’m okay, Sarah said, forcing a smile. Neither of the children looked reassured.

Did that bird have bird flu? RJ asked.

Oh my god, you two, Sarah snapped. A dull pounding in her temple threatened a full-blown headache, and she felt clammy, still nauseous. The bird wasn’t sick and you’re not going to be attacked by leeches if you go in the lake. I’m fine. I... I just need to lie down for a minute.

What should we do?

I don’t know. Unpack? Sarah said. This wasn’t what they wanted to hear, but it was clear they didn’t want to stay around her. By now, they knew the warning signs to stay away. And she didn’t really want them around right now anyway, not if they were just going to make her headache worse.

At least you didn’t throw up, RJ said to Tia as they started rummaging through the luggage.

Closing her eyes, Sarah rolled the glass back and forth across her brow, listening to her younger siblings carry their bags up to the loft and begin unpacking. When she reopened them, she noticed the wooden support beams overhead. At the sight of them, a sense of déjà vu filled her mind, as if she’d been sick here before in the care of someone who loved her. The thought made her smile, and she started to feel at ease, no, at home in this strange house on the lake.

A shadow fell across the ceiling. Sarah frowned, noticing how dark the room had grown in the few minutes since coming back inside. When she glanced out the window, she saw the sky leaden with clouds over the lake and distant mountains. The water had grown choppy, and its steely surface matched the sky. On the far shore, lightning flashed over the trees, and a second later a whip-crack of thunder shook the house. Rain drummed down on the roof. Within a minute, it was coming down hard enough to hide the beach from view. So much for going swimming.

RJ and Tia hurried back downstairs, joining her on the couch to watch the storm through the big, front window. RJ looked scared, and even Tia seemed nervous as another crack of thunder rattled the house, but after a few minutes of unrelenting noise, the girl started to look bored. Sarah did her best to distract the six-year-old from the storm, reading out loud to him while Tia played on her phone.

Around nine o’clock, Marcus came out of the bedroom dressed more formally than he’d been before. He took one look out the window and began grumbling as he disappeared into the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later eating a bowl of cereal, and sat down, regarding his children seriously.

You guys play nice while I was asleep? he asked.

Sarah puked,