by Paul Freeman
They had him laid out in his bedroom, with his closest relatives in attendance. A solemn occasion. As the leader of his flock he was only too happy to be part of the ritual. When the sun went down and more well-wishers were arriving, sharing a private moment with Mabel and offering their condolences, her husband rose from his bed. Declaring it a miracle, she ran to him with open arms. Moments later she was screaming as her husband bit into her neck and began feasting on the warm blood gushing from the wound. At first everybody just stared in shock. Men and women who’d survived hard times and good, who’d fought in wars, or waited anxiously for word of loved ones shipped overseas, had never seen anything like it. Even he himself who had served in the Marines in his youth, before becoming a man of the cloth, was taken utterly by surprise. He’d seen a lot of bad stuff in some devastated parts of the world, even taken part in some pretty deplorable things in more than one war-torn country around the globe. One of the main reasons he’d turned to God was on account of the difficulties he had dealing with the atrocities man was capable of inflicting on his own kind.
The walking corpse of Ron Curtis clamped to his wife’s throat snarled and hissed at any who attempted to pry him from his wife. Her blood flowed freely down her best Sunday dress until he discarded her lifeless body like an oversized ragdoll. By then there was pandemonium in the house. The police were called as men younger and stronger than Ron tried to tackle him. He broke the neck of one with a single twist while sinking his teeth into another. He was eventually gunned down on his front lawn by a team of police officers who’d answered the call.
For him that was the day God had turned his back on the world and allowed the Demon have free rein on Earth. It was the day he first began to doubt his lord. It was the beginning of the end for all he knew and loved. He’d had a wife back then; they were trying for a child. He thought about her rarely, finding it easier to dismiss Old-World relationships as some distant dream he once had. It was hard to build defenses around one’s own heart, easier to build a wall from ocean to ocean than to erect a barrier against memories. The mists of time made it easier and now he could barely recall her face. Her name was Alice, even thinking the name gave him a dull ache in his heart, drawing him closer to the locked chest of distant memories set aside in some dusty corner of his mind.
He thought about the wild child then. He’d turned his back so many times since the Fall, it tore at him to leave her alone at the mercy of the vampires. Somehow she’d managed to survive thus far – perhaps she’d just been lucky, or maybe there was someone looking out for her. Either way, he was not going to desert her. He pulled on the reins and turned the horse around.
There were two of them, barely visible in the moonlight. They would be able to see him better than he could them, but they were busy feeding on the still warm blood of the marauder he’d left for them; the kid who’d known no life but the harsh reality of a post-Fall world. He came at them fast out of the darkness, urging his horse on. With a single stroke of the cavalry saber he beheaded the first as it looked up from its grisly meal. A blood-smeared face of dead, white skin shone momentarily in the moonlight before it spun through the air. The horse took that moment to find a deep pothole and went down hard throwing him from the saddle. He landed with a jaw-jarring thud, grunting on impact. The other two horses were prancing wildly now, panicked by the shrieking of the fallen mount, by the thick, coppery smell of blood from the dead marauder and from the unnatural scent of the walking dead thing no dumb animal could ever understand.
Pain wracked his body and for an instant he wondered if he had broken his back. If that was the case he was a dead man. With a loud curse and a grunt he hauled himself onto his side, flinching as agony speared through him from his neck down to his toes. The fact that he could feel the pain was a good thing. It took only moments for his mind to snap back to his situation. One feeder was down, but one other survived and he’d lost his sword in the fall.
A movement to his left made him swing around as the vampire landed in a crouch in front of him. It hissed and snarled at him, revealing a tongue dark with blood and gore. He crawled backwards away from the monster, crab-like, as he fumbled for the automatic pistol at his side. The feeder screeched and leapt at him. Its clothes were dark, torn rags that shimmered like wings when he jumped through the air. He felt a grip on his throat as a white face loomed at him. The stench of blood and rotting flesh made him want to gag, as the feeder opened its jaws revealing the sharp fangs it would use to puncture his skin. He jammed the muzzle into its mouth and fired. It shrieked as the velocity of the bullet sent it hurtling back.
He lay on his back then, unable to summon the ability to move. He held the pistol two-handed, training the barrel at the feeder, but the vampire didn’t move. Relief flooded through him then and he allowed himself moments to gather his strength before drawing his knife and ramming it into the heart of the still form of the vampire. The lifeless eyes of the marauder stared at him accusingly in the moonlight. He briefly reflected on what he’d done to the unfortunate boy. He and his friends had sought to rob him and leave him for dead. Instead two of them were cut down and the young marauder was left full of buckshot and a bullet in his leg as night fell. His moment of reflection did not last long. In Old-World times retribution was slower in coming. In the post-Fall world there were no courts and judges, no law or cops to enforce them.
But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
He led the two surviving horses from the bloody scene, but knew he couldn’t travel for too long in the darkness across the wide-open plain, an easy target for any feeders hunting for human blood. Once he’d put some distance between himself and the bodies he stopped and gathered up what bits of dead wood he could find. Digging out his tinderbox he used flint and dry grass to get a fire going, banking it up as best he could with the limited fuel available to him. He also lit the torches he’d taken from the marauders and placed them in a square around his camp. Not much of a perimeter but vampires were fearful of fire and would not approach willingly. He hoped it would be enough to deter any until the sun rose.
Sleep was a luxury he could not afford, even though staying awake and alert until the sky began to lighten over the distant mountains required enormous strength of will. By the time the horizon began to glow crimson as light bled into the sky his neck and back muscles ached and his head throbbed. With heavy eyelids he hauled himself up from the saddle he’d used as a backrest and kicked dirt into the fire. After a quick breakfast of hard cheese and some stale bread he climbed onto the back of the horse, using the extra height to look around. The plain was empty in every direction, part wasteland, part scrubland. When he kicked the horse forward its hooves threw up dust into the air. He knew he would be seen for miles around, there was no fear of vampires being abroad during the day, but as his encounter with the three marauders proved, there were more threats than just feeders to be wary of.
He headed back towards the forest, retracing his flight in the opposite direction the previous day. He knew it, like the dusty plain, carried on for miles and in truth he realized he had very little hope of finding the girl if she didn’t want to be found. When he found the narrow track through the trees he’d exited from before, he climbed down from the horse and led both animals to the tree-line. The horses became jittery and nervous as he took them into the more confined space just inside the trees. He wasn’t happy about leaving them behind, especially after what had happened to the last horse he’d tethered to a tree. Even so, he could get through the forest quicker and easier on foot and besides, he hoped he wouldn’t be too long. If his plan worked the girl would come to him. If not then there was not a lot he could do for her. He wanted to help her if he could, maybe that meant taking her back to Colony, or maybe she was doing just fine by herself, either way he had no intention of being caught in the forest after dark.
There was plenty of wildlife about, from insects buzzing to birds twittering through the
trees, to small animals bolting through the undergrowth. He bagged a rabbit with a single shot from the pistol and carried it to the clearing where he’d met the girl before. He quickly skinned the rabbit and set up a small fire with a makeshift roasting spit. He soon had his small prey cooking away, sending a tantalizing aroma of cooking meat into the air. He settled down and waited, twisting the rabbit over the fire every so often until it began to cook evenly. He poked the meat with his knife and the juices dripped, sizzling into the fire. The smell made his stomach rumble.
Just as he lifted the cooked animal from the fire he heard a soft rustle in the bushes. He turned and she was there before him, crouched down on her hunkers, her vibrant blue eyes regarding him curiously.
“Want some?” he said, offering the cooked meat. When she didn’t answer he sliced a portion off and tossed it over to her. She caught it deftly and brought the meat up to her mouth in cupped hands. She ate it greedily. “What’s your name?” he asked.
She said nothing, just watched him until he threw her another section of meat. “Do you have any parents living close by?” At this she looked over her shoulder once, before returning her attention to the food. “You live that way?” he asked, pointing in the direction she’d looked.
She wiped grease from her mouth and made wavy motions with both of her hands and then pointed towards the west.
His forehead creased as he tried to make sense of what she meant, wondering why she was not speaking. Was she dumb or deaf? Or had no one taught her how to use language? “Do you have a name? People call me Pastor, but that’s not really a name, just what folks call me by.” Then it came to him, she was making the shapes of hills with her hands. “You live in the mountains?” he said, pointing towards the jagged black line in the distance.
She smiled and nodded her head.
Her eyes sparkled as she smiled, but that’s not what he saw. He jumped back involuntarily, his hand automatically dropped towards the pistol on his belt. Her eyes opened wide at the change in his demeanor and fear suddenly clouded her own expression. He regretted immediately his reaction, but felt his own heart begin to beat wildly. She jumped up, giving him another moment of anxiety and his hand gripped the gun. She turned and ran into the trees, leaving him on his knees staring into the empty darkness into which she fled. In his mind all he could see were the fangs in the girl’s mouth – the mouth of a feeder. How is that even possible? he wondered. Surely she can’t be a vampire. The sun would have turned her to ash by now. His mind tried to process what he’d just seen and what it meant. Could this girl be the first vampire to acquire the ability to walk in the daylight? Were there others? Was she some kind of vampire/human hybrid? How was that even possible? Questions tumbled through his brain faster than he could come up with answers. If the feeders could now bear the sunlight he and what was left of humanity were doomed.
The girl would have to die.
CHAPTER TEN
Most folk in Colony rose with the sun. When the hours of darkness are too dangerous to go outside, every moment of daylight is taken advantage of. Logan was no different and had been up well before morning broke. His wife, Elaine, scooped eggs from the skillet onto his plate. He thanked her with a smile and broke a chunk of bread from the loaf in the center of the table. Before he took his first bite there was a knock at the door.
“Good morning, Ben,” he heard his wife say.
“Is he up?” Ben said from the open doorway.
“Of course, come on in. Would you care for some eggs?”
“No, no thank you, ma’am,” Ben replied.
Logan stood up to greet him. “What can I do for you, Ben?”
“You need to come. Jeb and his girl have just arrived at the gate.”
“He went outside last night?” Logan asked, incredulity raising his voice an octave.
“Yeah, him and Harry went lookin’ for the girl just after dark… Harry didn’t make it back.”
“Harry?” Ben shook his head in response. “Damn,” he said quietly. Mixed feelings of loss and anger began building up inside of him. Harry was a good man. Death had become a way of life for survivors of the Fall, always there, a constant threat in the shadows. Even so, losing a friend was always painful. “I’ll get my coat.” He threw a brief, longing glance at the plate of eggs before following Ben out into the street and across the town square.
Jeb and Amy had been escorted back to their own home. They sat at a table in the small kitchen, eating bread and cuts of smoked ham.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Logan stormed into the room. One look at the tear-filled eyes of Amy and the haunted expression of Jeb and he quieted down. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said in a calmer tone to the girl. She nodded and dropped her gaze to the table. “What happened?” he then asked Jeb.
Jeb told his story, from the moment he and Harry left Colony the night before, right up to the night he and Amy had spent, shivering from both the cold and fear, huddled together in the glow of the bonfire they prayed would last until sunup.
“Will Davis and Harry both dead…” Logan slumped into a chair facing Jeb. He felt a knot of emotion welling inside him, a lump rose to his throat. “Why were you out after dark, Amy? It’s the one thing we drum into everyone over and over and over. Don’t get caught outside after dark.” Amy’s head dropped onto her hands then and her shoulders began to shudder. Her tears were the only answer Logan would get.
“They’re kids. Kids do dumb things,” Jeb answered for her.
“We can’t afford to do dumb things,” Logan said. “I’ll have to inform the Davises and Harry’s wife.”
“I’ll do it,” Jeb said.
Logan sighed as he saw the pain etched into the other man’s eyes. He’d clearly not slept all night following a harrowing evening. He and the girl needed sleep, but more than that they would both need a lot of time to get over their experiences. “We’ll both do it,” he said.
“Let me just get Amy settled first,” Jeb said.
Logan nodded and watched silently as Jeb led his daughter out of the kitchen. Ben who had been standing quietly behind him the whole time came around to sit in the chair Jeb had vacated. He rested his rifle up against the table. “Shit,” he simply said.
“Ain’t that the truth?” Logan answered.
The three men left Jeb’s house and headed downtown to Harry’s place. It didn’t take long; Colony was a small village enclosed by a wooden stockade. It had one gate in and out. They walked past a mixture of new-built wooden structures and patched-up Old-World buildings made from concrete, supposedly built to last; the builders hadn’t reckoned on a vampire apocalypse. Dust choked the air of the town as the early morning sun beat down on them. People assigned to various work details walked past them, nodding a greeting in turn.
“Where to first?” Jeb asked quietly.
Logan nodded his head in the direction of a single-storied wooden structure. “Harry’s place,” he said.
The three men approached the dwelling with trepidation. Logan knocked on the door.
“Harry…” A blonde woman swung open the door almost as soon as Logan had rapped. Her eyes dropped in disappointment when she realized it was not her husband. “Logan,” she said then, “he didn’t come home last night. I thought maybe he’d got caught outside after dark and decided to stay with someone else ‘til mornin’”
Logan shook his head. “Can we come in, Marge?”
Three girls ranging in ages from about seven up to thirteenish were eating breakfast. “Morning, girls,” Logan greeted them, “why don’t you guys head on out to Mrs. Simmons and see what work she needs you to do today?” After a nod from their mother the three girls quickly finished eating and hurried out the door.
“What’s going on, Logan, where’s Harry?”
“Sit down, Marge,” Logan said.
She shook her head, her curls shaking as she did so. Tears welled in her eyes.
“Harry,” Jeb began unsteadily, “Harry ca
me outside with me last night. We were looking for my girl Amy and Will Davis. They’d gone missing after working the cornfield yesterday.”
“Outside? In the dark?”
Jeb’s head dropped as he briefly outlined to Marge what had happened, explaining how her husband had lost his life. Logan could see that he was having difficulty making eye contact with her.
She just stared at him for a long time, so long that Logan was on the verge of asking her if she’d heard what Jeb said. Finally she spoke. “Did he… did he turn? Did he become a soulless monster?” Logan knew that some folk believed than when a person died if they were turned by a vampire then their soul was lost forever, cursed to eternal damnation.
Jeb shook his head. “No, ma’am, he didn’t turn.”
Logan found it difficult listening to the story he’d heard already, imagining the chore Jeb had to ensure Harry would not rise the following night as a vampire.
“Bastard!” Marge suddenly raged and slapped Jeb hard across the mouth. His lip started to bleed, but he just stood there letting the woman hit him again and again. When she stopped she was out of breath and sobbing at the same time.
“Marge…” Logan began, but she just pushed past him and disappeared into a backroom. “What have you done?” he said, turning to Jeb.
“What do you want me to do, apologize for saving my little girl? I didn’t ask Harry to come with me, he insisted,” Jeb said. There was no anger or defensiveness in his words, simply a resignation of what’s done is done. Logan had to admit to himself that if it had been his daughter out there then he’d probably have done the same.
“Ben, stay here with Marge. Holler if y’all need anything.”
The two men walked across the dusty street. Logan thought back to a time just after the Fall. The world had gone to shit; chaos reigned everywhere. Nowhere was safe. At night the feeders were rampant, by day what was left of humanity was turning on itself in a frenzy of destruction. People were killed for a bottle of water, or just for the hell of it. When law breaks down there are no consequences anymore. Suddenly it is every man for himself and only the strongest survive. It was a cull on a grand scale, the greatest thinning of a species since the dinosaurs were made extinct. The vampires were humanity’s fiery rock.
