Available Darkness Season 1

unfolding outside the van, he was unable to hear much of anything beyond muffled exchanges while second guessing his decision to get into the van.
    It’s coming.
    He closed his eyes, tried to focus on Abigail, to connect with her. He could feel her there, could even sense how close she was, but there was something — some sort of darkness surrounding her — preventing him access to her mind.
    Then the explosions.
    He heard Brock shouting.
    Abigail!
    Then the gunshots.
    John leapt to a squatting position, ready to strike, his body prickling for action. But he was caged and helpless, the walls of the van feeling even tighter than the coffin around him.
    He felt Abigail starting to fade. She was wounded in the gunfire. He knew it as certainly as he knew the sun would soon be rising. He screamed, using his body as a battering ram, slamming himself against the side door as if he could somehow shake the locks loose.
    “Abigail!”
    He thought he heard something, her voice?
    He stopped moving and tilted his head, hungry to hear any sounds rise above the gunshots. Everything went silent as time seemed to pause in wait for whatever was next. Either his side door would open and Larry would appear or the van would start moving, on their way to his would-be kidnappers, and away from Abigail, who needed him now more than ever.
    The silence was a slow and steady suffocation. He started to rock again, shaking the van wildly and screaming. “Let me out!”
    Footsteps approached, and John’s body tingled in anticipation.
    The side door slid open as John flinched, preparing for the worst. Thankfully, it was Larry’s shape silhouetting the open door rather than Brock’s. Larry was silent, but John could see the truth in his eyes and sprawled on the asphalt a few yards away. Abigail, in a pool of blood, eyes open and staring at him in a dead gaze.
    John’s heart crumbled as he exploded from the van and sprinted towards her.
    He collapsed to her side and reached to feel for a pulse even as her eyes held their dead focus on the van. He caught himself, unsure what damage his touch could do to her in this state. He called to her; but no response.
    “Don’t touch her!” Larry screamed, his heavy footsteps thundering across the asphalt towards them.
    Larry reached down and touched the child’s neck. His eyes widened.
    “Holy shit!” he cried out, “she’s still alive.”
    “Call an ambulance, we’ve got to help her!” John said through a cracked voice.
    Larry looked grave, his hand still on Abigail’s neck.
    “We’ve got to get out of here, John. Now! She’s not gonna make it, even if we stay.”
    John’s mind raced as he shook his head, repeating, “No, no, no, no. There’s got to be something we can do!”
    Something flickered from deep within the recesses of John’s forgotten memories — a glimmer of something almost recognizable, a faint echo of a lost transmission from a long dead satellite.
    Larry mumbled something about needing to get out of there before the cops, or agents, came. John closed his eyes, trying to block Larry’s voice out.
    “Wait!” John snapped, “Give me a minute!”
    John dove deeper into the murkiness of his subconscious like a blind man trying to find his keys along the ocean floor. Only, John couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the keys, let alone recall what they unlocked.
    “John,” Larry said, “she’s dying.”
    “I fucking know that,” John barked, spinning towards Larry, anger flashing, and then…
    Something came to him and John had an idea.
    “I can turn her?” John asked Larry, “I can bring her back as a vampire, can’t I?”
    Larry nodded, “You know how?”
    “I think so, I am remembering… something.”
    “If you do this,” Larry warned, “you’re sentencing her to a life of hell.”
    “A life of hell is all she’s ever known,” John said, “but it sure as hell beats not living.”
    John looked down at the helpless child — his angel.
    Her open, glassy eyes cut straight into his heart. Though Larry said she was alive, John was pretty certain she couldn’t see him. Something resembling instinct whispered in his brain, just let me take over . He wasn’t sure if the voice was to be trusted or if it was wishful thinking that someone or something would answer his silent pleas for guidance.
    Bite her.
    Do it, now.
    John knelt down, leaned in close, closed his eyes and handed intuition the reins.
    As he drew closer to her neck, he could feel