Chapter Four : The Tidewalker

Sarah and Jake got to Bonnie’s house, that same day.

Sarah didn’t knock.

She threw the living room door open and walked straight in, like the house belonged to her. The woodframe rattled on its hinges.

Jake followed two steps behind, his eyes locked on her.

“What?” Sarah asked without turning around. She could feel his stare burning into the back of her neck. “I’ve been invited. I can walk in whenever I want.” She said it like she was reading his mind.

Jake didn’t answer. His jaw flexed once, then he let out a quiet breath.

“Sarah?” Jake called, his voice low. He was looking toward the kitchen.

Sarah turned back to look at him, when he didn't say a word, she quickly followed his stare.

Right there stood Bonnie.

She was in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, barefoot, hoodie too big on her frame. Her arms were crossed.

Bonnie’s eyes moved from Jake to Sarah and stayed there. No surprise. No greeting. Just… assessment.

The air in the room went still.

“Bonnie?” Sarah called softly. Her voice had none of the edge it had at the door.

“You can’t just badge into my home,” Bonnie said. Her arms were still crossed. Her stance wasn’t welcoming. It was a wall.

“I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” Sarah said, trying to make up for what she did. She took half a step forward, then stopped herself. “I wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t.”

Bonnie sighed. The sound was heavy, exhausted. “What now?” she asked.

Sarah swallowed. The words felt wrong in her mouth, but she forced them out anyway. “I saw Kyle. But I don’t think he’s the one. Everything about him felt off. It felt wrong. I just wanted to warn you. You can’t see him for now till we figure out if it’s truly him.”

The whole time Bonnie just kept looking at her like she wasn't following. That ‘who's this person and what is she saying?’ kind of look. No relief. Just distance.

“Why is she looking at you like that?” Jake asked, eyebrows raised. He shifted his weight between his feet, ready.

Sarah looked at Jake and then back at Bonnie’s face. Something cold slid down her spine. The silence was too deliberate. The lack of reaction was too deliberate.

She sensed something. Something wrong under the surface, like static in the air right before a storm.

“He’s here already, isn’t he?” Sarah asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Bonnie’s eyes flicked over Sarah’s shoulder.

Sarah and Jake turned to look quickly.

Kyle stood there. Right behind them. No sound. No footsteps. Just there, in the middle of Bonnie’s living room, with an expressionless face and hands tucked into his pockets like he’d been there the whole time.

Sarah and Jake quickly moved steps away from him, putting space between them and him. Jake’s stance went low, protective.

Kyle didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He just watched them both.

“What are you?” Sarah asked. Her voice was steady, but her hands were trembling at her sides.

Kyle scoffed. “What do you mean what am I?” He asked, like the question itself was offensive. He tilted his head, studying her like she was the puzzle.

“You are not Kyle,” Sarah snapped. “The Kyle we know is dead.”

“Bonnie?” Kyle called softly, shifting his weight toward her. He didn’t look at Sarah anymore. “Are you gonna watch her talk to me that way?” He asked. With hurt in his eyes. The hurt Kyle would use. The hurt that always made Bonnie soften first.

“Sarah, what are you talking about?” Bonnie’s voice cracked.

“We were there when he drowned,” Sarah said. Each word was clipped. Final. “Till the end of the day the cops didn’t have any positive news about the incident. Because drowning means death.” She said it like she was reciting a report. Like saying it out loud would make it real again.

“But his body didn’t come back to the surface,” Bonnie argued. Her eyes flicked to Kyle, then back to Sarah. “He must have survived.” She added, and there was a tremor in it. Hope clinging to denial.

“After drowning for hours?” Sarah asked, stepping forward.“Listen to yourself, Bonnie.” She said.

Bonnie took a deep breath and stared at Kyle. Really stared. Like she was trying to see through his skin.

“What did you get for me on our anniversary?” she asked. Her voice was quiet now.

Kyle’s face went pale. The color drained out of him in seconds, leaving him almost gray. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

“Do we have to do this?” Kyle asked. The softness was gone. The voice was wrong again.

“Just answer the damn question,” Jake snapped. He moved to stand side by side with Sarah.

Kyle looked from Bonnie, to Sarah, from Sarah to Jake and from Jake back to Sarah. His eyes darted, calculating. Then he bolted.

He tried running out of the house, toward the front door in one smooth movement.

Sarah blurred across the room, reaching the front door before Kyle could touch the handle.

The air around her had dropped ten degrees. Kyle skidded to a stop and moved back, eyes narrowing.

“Not so fast,” Sarah said. Her voice was lower now. Rougher. Not quite human.

Kyle smiled, but it was thin. Calculated. “We don’t have to do this, do we?” He asked. He held his hands up like he was surrendering. “Just let me go and nobody gets hurt,” Kyle said.

“Not after you tell me what you are,” Sarah said.

Kyle turned to look at Bonnie, then he looked at Jake, who was already positioned for a fight. Feet planted. Shoulders squared. No fear in his face. Only focus.

“Alright then,” Kyle said, and turned back to Sarah. His jaw set. “Let’s do this.”

Sarah snarled. The sound wasn’t human. It ripped out of her throat before she could stop it. Her pupils slit. The red was fully bled into the iris now.

Bonnie screamed fearfully as she ran and coiled herself behind the sofa in the living room, hands over her mouth, eyes wide and locked on Sarah.

Kyle tilted his head. “Oh,” he said. “That’s what you are.”

Sarah moved first.

She was a blur, a streak of black and red as she lunged at Kyle. Vampire strength, vampire speed — strike calculated, precise, meant to break bone. Her fist came down hard toward Kyle’s face.

It went right through him.

No impact. No resistance. Just cold air and the faint static shock. Her hand emerged from the other side of his face like he wasn’t even there.

Sarah pulled back, breathing hard. She tried again. A sweeping kick. Same thing. Her leg passed through his leg like he was made of smoke.

Kyle looked down at his body, then back at Sarah, and scoffed. The mocking smile spread slowly across his face. “That’s it?” he said. “That’s all you got?”

Sarah stared at her hand. Clenched it. It felt solid. Real. She looked at Kyle again, confusion flashing across her face for the first time.

That hesitation was all Kyle needed.

He grabbed Sarah from the throat and smiled. "Physical when I choose to be.” Kyle said.

His grip was iron. One sharp twist and he threw her across the room with inhuman force.

Sarah hit the wall with a bone-jarring crack. The drywall splintered around her, plaster dust raining down. She crumpled to the floor in a heap, her vision flashing white for a split second.

Less than half a second later she was already back on her feet. Knees bent. Teeth bared. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth where she’d bitten her lip on impact.

She turned on Kyle. Her eyes weren’t red anymore. They were black.

Kyle was already smiling back at her.

Jake saw it. No hesitation. He advanced on Kyle and swung his fist hard straight at Kyle’s face.

It hit.

The crack of bone on bone echoed through the room, and Kyle’s head snapped back. He stumbled, knees buckling, and face-planted onto the hardwood floor with a heavy thud.

The blow actually had an effect.

Sarah froze. Her own fists had slipped through him like smoke. Jake's connected.

Jake looked at his fist, flexing it open and closed, stunned at why his own blow did something and Sarah’s didn’t. For a second he just stood there, caught off guard by his own strength.

He was still in his fantasy when Kyle’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat. Jake’s feet left the ground in an instant, legs swinging uselessly in the air as Kyle lifted him with one arm.

“Get salt,” Sarah whispered to Bonnie. Her voice was barely audible, but it cut through the chaos.

Sarah sprinted to the scene. She barely had time to register the movement before Kyle’s other hand shot out, lightning-fast, and wrapped around her throat too. He held them both up, one in each hand, dangling like ragdolls. His grip was freezing.

He looked from Sarah to Jake, eyes dark and amused. Both of them trying to break free.

“Vampire and — what are you?” he asked rhetorically, staring at Jake. “Something else?”

“Both of you are no match for me,” he added. His smile was cruel now. Victorious.

Bonnie ran out of the kitchen, a small glass bowl clutched in her hand. “Kyle?” she called, and they all turned to look.

Then Bonnie threw the salt.

The white grains hit Kyle mid-air. The moment they touched his skin there was a sharp hiss, like acid on flesh. Kyle winced and groaned, burns appearing across his arms and face in an instant, skin blistering and smoking.

He yelped and quickly let go of Jake and Sarah. Both of them dropped to the floor, gasping for air.

In a second Kyle dissolved. His body melted, collapsing in on itself until he was nothing but a dark pool of water spreading across the floor. The water slithered away from them, moving on its own, flowing out of the house through the crack under the front door.

Sarah and Jake stood up, still catching their breath. Bonnie ran and stood with them, hands shaking. Shoulder to shoulder, as they watched the water flow out of the house

“What the hell was that?” Bonnie asked

“They call it the Tidewalker” Sarah answered.

                               ***

At the river, a couple of people were having fun. Laughter bounced off the water, someone had a Bluetooth speaker playing something upbeat, and two of them were splashing each other near the shallows.

Then one girl stopped.

Her eyes locked on the edge where the woods met the bank. A dark pool of water was seeping out from the trees, slow but deliberate. It didn’t look like runoff. It was too black, too thick, moving against the current like it had a purpose.

“Guys,” she called out. Her voice dropped.

The rest turned.

They watched the pool of water flow into the river. It hit the current and spread, a dark vein cutting through the clear water.

"It's probably oil," one boy muttered.

The smell hit next — copper and wet earth.

No one spoke.

Everyone hurried out of the water. Towels were grabbed, feet slipped on wet rocks, but no one complained. They dried themselves up fast, clothes half-on, eyes still on the river.

And then they left. Quick. No packing up, no second looks. Just the sound of footsteps getting faster until they were all out of sight.

                               ***

“You can’t keep compelling her to forget like that,” Jake said. His voice was low, but it cut through the quiet street. “She’s gonna know eventually.”

“It’s for her safety she doesn’t,” Sarah said, not slowing down. Her jacket rustled with every step.

Jake stopped. “What does that mean?”

Sarah sighed and stopped too. She turned, the streetlight catching the edge of her eyes. “Look, I don’t know yet,” she said. “Not until we figure out what that thing is.”

“I thought you knew it already,” Jake said.

“I only know its name,” Sarah said. “And how strong it is after it threw me mercilessly against the wall.”

Jake laughed softly, the sound half-bitter, half-involuntary. Sarah peered at him, eyes narrowing.

“Sorry,” Jake said quickly. “I didn’t mean that.”

“So are you gonna tell me what you are?” Sarah said, stepping forward. “Or I will have to find out myself.”

“What do you mean?” Jake asked, swallowing hard. His throat bobbed.

“Your blow had an effect on the tidewalker,” Sarah said. “Mine didn’t.”

“Maybe only humans can hurt it,” Jake said, shrugging like the idea was casual. Too casual.

Sarah was about buying the idea, then she seemed to remember something. Her expression shifted.

“When it had its hand on our throats,” Sarah said, “it said you were something.”

“You’re gonna believe that?” Jake asked, giggling, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you like me?” Sarah asked, going close to Jake. Too close. She could see the pulse jump in his neck.

Jake made a face. “No, Sarah, I’m not a vampire,” he said.

Sarah looked around, then back at him. “You didn’t have to say the word,” she said quietly.

“Oh my bad,” Jake said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m gonna find out what you are, sooner or later,” Sarah said. Her voice wasn’t a threat. It was a fact. Then she turned and walked away, leaving him standing under the light.

Jake just watched her leave. He flexed his hand once, twice. When he opened his palm, a thin line of blood sat across it. Fresh.

“It’s almost the full moon,” he said to himself.

                                ***

The river had been quiet for ten minutes. Too quiet.

Then it started bubbling.

Small pops at first, like something breathing under the surface. The water near the bank churned, dark and restless.

Something suddenly shifted under the surface. A shape. Pale. Motionless.

It drifted with the current and bumped against the bank, close enough that the reeds snagged on his shirt.

Kyle’s lifeless body flowed to the surface.

His eyes were open, staring at nothing. Water ran from his mouth in a thin stream.