Dead by Dawn

by Wellman, Bret

  John was the first to act. He made a brave effort to try and tackle the creature. Unfortunately, it caught him by the throat and brought him to a halt. His eyes went wide as it swept his legs and brought him down, headfirst into the floor.

  Sarah flinched at the sound of his skull cracking. When the vampire let go, he was still. His head looked lopsided. There was a large gash running down his hairline. Blood poured out and ran across his face. His mouth moved as though he was talking, but no words came out. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he kept twitching.

  Five people ran to the balcony to scream for help, the rest scattered to every corner of the small apartment. A few ran to the kitchen and grabbed knives.

  Caitlin and Sarah hid behind the couch. They huddled together, closing their ears and covering their eyes. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t block out the screams.

  Instead, they clamped their hands over their mouths in an attempt to silence their panicked breathing.

  They huddled together, waiting as two minutes ticked by.

  “Holy shit,” Caitlin cried. “They’re dead, they’re fucking dead.”

  “I know, I know,” Sarah could hear the panic in her own voice. “We have to be quiet or he’ll hear us.”

  Caitlin nodded, but couldn’t quite seem to make her sobs silent.

  Sarah was about to suggest they make a run for it when a claw-like hand reached down and grabbed Caitlin by the hair.

  She cried and begged as she was pulled to her feet.

  “Let me go, please!” She kicked and flailed, but his grip was too strong. “Help!”

  Sarah grabbed her hand to try and keep her down, but it was no use. The vampire continued to pull like no resistance had been added.

  Still yanking on Caitlin’s hand, Sarah was pulled to her feet as well.

  As she was pulled back into the open, she caught a glimpse of the very different state of the apartment. Bodies and gore were scattered across the floor where it had been crowded with a mob of people only minutes before. Blood was even splattered against the ceiling.

  Sarah didn’t know what she was expecting to see, but it wasn’t this. So many people who were just partying with her: dead. Only the people in the kitchen, the ones with the knives remained. They had their backs to the wall with the knives held out in front of them. They stood crammed and trembling in the furthest corner from the door.

  Sarah yanked on Caitlin until the vampire backhanded her. She sailed backwards, landing flat on her back near the front door.

  She couldn’t breathe and was confused as to how she ended up on the floor. Every inch of her body was in pain. She rolled to her side, both hands crossed over her chest. John was there, his body still, his white eyes open. She took one look at his gaping mouth and her breath came back to her in a big rush.

  She was lying in a puddle of blood. His blood. The section of his head above his right eye was caved in, mirroring the shape of a morbid cereal bowl. His hair covered most of the damage, but she could still make out the wrongness and her stomach churned.

  Sarah sat up, pressing her back against the wall as firmly as she could. She closed her eyes and began panting.

  Panic was no good in a life or death situation, she had to get herself under control.

  The vampire.

  He was dropping Caitlin’s limp body and turning toward the people in the kitchen.

  Sarah stood up and half stumbled into the hallway.

  As soon as she caught her balance she began to run. It was hard to concentrate. The adrenaline running through her body brought her back a bit, but she was still drunk. She stumbled as she ran, catching herself on the wall and leaving a handprint of Joe’s blood.

  When she reached the stairs she used the railing for support. It wouldn’t help at all if she fell and broke her neck.

  Fearing there would be more vampires in the street, she chose to only go down one level before turning back into another hallway.

  She tried to open every door, screaming for help and pounding on them before moving on to the next. By the time she was done, smears of the blood she was caked in decorated the hallway.

  She kept glancing back, waiting for the moment when the vampire would step out of the stairwell. No one would ever know what happened to her.

  Finally, one of the doors she tried wasn’t locked. She opened it to find a broom closet. It was tiny and barely had room to fit her, but she squeezed in anyway.

  Complete darkness fell over her as she shut the door. The sound of her breathing was heavy and echoed in her ears.

  It took a few minutes, but she was able to catch her breath and force herself to be a little quieter.

  As her eyes adjusted she could see a small shaft of light coming through the bottom of the door.

  She could hear people coming out into the hallway. They sounded calm at first; growing more alarmed as they saw the blood she smeared everywhere.

  Sarah wanted to leave the closet to tell them what happened, but couldn’t will herself to move. She was still too frightened.

  The alcohol was beginning to take her back. She sank lower, leaning her head against a mop. There was a tarp folded up in the corner that she used for a blanket. It wasn’t comfortable in the least, but she was just drunk enough that it didn’t matter. She was breathing heavy and thought she might choke on her own panic. She laid her head against a mop and stared at the crack of light coming in through the bottom of the door. She couldn’t quite grasp the reality of everything that had just happened. Her mind wouldn’t allow her to think.

  She heard screams, outside in the hall. They went on seemingly forever. Sarah could do nothing but stare at the crack of light and listen.

  Everyone was dying, yet her mind was refusing to process it. She could only sit there and think about nothing.

  Hours passed and the screams faded. At some point during the early morning, she fell asleep.

  When she woke, her mouth was completely dry. It tasted like she spent the night chewing dirt. Her chest hurt something awful. Somebody must have punched her or something, and that somebody was probably a guy… or a vampire. Memories of the night before came flooding back.

  The man at the door.

  John’s dead face staring at her.

  Caitlin.

  Sarah threw open the closet door and stumbled into the hallway. She covered her eyes because the sun was so bright, coming through a window at the end of the hall. Her head was pounding.

  Almost every door that was locked shut the night before was wide open now. Sarah peered inside as she passed. In some cases there would be a lamp lying on the floor or something similar, but for the most part they were undisturbed inside. Just empty apartments.

  Sarah observed her own handprints on the doors in blood. It was still on her arms and shirt as well, all black and crusty. Only a shower would be able to get it all off.

  She made her way back up the stairs and to the room she was partying in the night before. She stood outside the door, afraid to look in.

  “Please be inside,” she whispered.

  It took a three count to work up the nerve to step in.

  There was a round bloodstain on the floor where John had been laying the night before. John was missing along with everyone else. The wind whipped the curtain that hung around the open balcony door. There were a few tears in it and a couple rungs had been torn from the curtain rod.

  “Hello?” said Sarah, her own voice making her jump. “Is anyone here?”

  A hand full of knives were scattered across the kitchen floor. One of the cupboards appeared to have been kicked in and the half that was left was still hanging off its hinges.

  “Ashley, Caitlin,” Sarah called, hearing the tears and panic in her voice.

  She went to the couch she’d hidden behind the night before and sat down.

  The placidity was going to drive her insane. She began to cry.

  Nobody came to her rescue, or even showed up at all. She was alon
e.

  Sarah eventually gave up waiting and decided to head outside. What she found was no more comforting.

  A hot dog cart at the end of the street was knocked over and no one had come around to pick it back up. There was no one. In a jungle of concrete, she and the birds were the only living organisms.

  Sarah’s first idea was to find Caitlin’s car. Unfortunately she didn’t have the slightest clue in what direction that was. Also, Caitlin was the one with the keys.

  Instead she chose the Empire State Building as a landmark and began walking towards it. That was pretty much the extent of her plan.

  New York was a strange place without people. The wind actually made noise as it navigated the maze of buildings. The birds were quite boisterous as well. The city would have been too loud for her to hear any of it the day before.

  The first person Sarah ran into was a man who looked like he was in his late twenties. He was sitting on the steps of an old brick building, wailing into his hands as if he were in agony.

  Sarah tried to confront him, but the guy was completely incoherent and unresponsive. She tried to get his attention for a good ten minutes before moving on.

  She began seeing more people after that. Their numbers were small and most were pretty distraught.

  “Repent!” screamed one lady who stood in the center of the street. “The judgment day has come, repent!”

  Sarah knew she had to get home. The first step would be getting out of the city.

  She decided to attempt the subway. It made perfect sense to her at the time.

  It didn’t take long to begin second-guessing herself as she descended down into the darkness. None of the lights or electronics were working. She had to jump the turnstile just to get in.

  After a good half hour of waiting she decided the train was never going to come, and headed back into the light. It was a relief to leave the darkness behind.

  More people were out when she emerged. She even spotted a car driving down the road.

  Most of them were wandering as if lost. She imagined she must look similar.

  “Excuse me, miss?” called a male voice.

  Sarah turned to find a group of twenty or thirty people all bunched together. At the lead was an older man with a gray beard that was neatly trimmed.

  “Me?” Sarah asked.

  “You look lost,” said the old man.

  “That’s because I am. I seem to have lost… everyone.”

  The old man gave her a knowing and sorrowful nod. “Most of us have.” He gestured to all the people following him. “You’re more than welcome to come with us. We’re on our way to the George Washington Bridge to get the heck out of here.”

  “Um,” said Sarah, feeling guarded.

  “If it helps, you’re more than welcome to follow behind while you make up your mind.” The old man began walking again.

  Sarah watched the procession as it passed. A lot of people were sniffling, while some were full-on crying. Had they gone through a similar experience the night before?

  She thought about Caitlin and Ashley and knew they were gone. No matter how much she wanted to pretend it was a dream, the night before happened.

  Sarah turned and began following the crowd out of the city.

  Chapter 15

  Joe sat on the front steps of his porch, drinking his coffee and watching the corn grow. So far there were no new leads on his neighbors’ disappearance. He knew this because he called the police station three times a day to find out.

  The whole thing left a sour taste in his mouth. The fact that something so horrible could happen in his hometown, and to people he was close to no less, seemed unreal. If only there was something he could do about it. He decided that putting his hands to work was the cure.

  He mowed Charlie’s lawn the day before. Thankfully, the police allowed it. The act kept him from going mad.

  Now he could only reflect on what nice people he lost. The thought always brought him back to the murderer. If I ever get my hands on that son of a bitch…

  A trail of dust was coming up his driveway. Joe squinted his eyes enough to make out a small, blue Chevy S-10. It was a vehicle Joe had come to know well.

  The truck slid to a stop and Keith hopped out.

  He was wearing a black compression shirt with a tan bulletproof vest. He still had on his snakeskin boots. Joe hadn’t seen him since their birthday celebration at the bar.

  Keith went around to the bed and began unloading gun ammunition.

  “What the hell are you doing Keith?” asked Joe.

  “I always said when the shit hit the fan I wanted to be next to you,” said Keith, still unloading ammunition.

  “I’m gonna ask one more time. What the hell are you doing?”

  “The shit hit the fan,” said Keith. He stopped what he was doing and turned to face Joe. “Haven’t you heard?”

  Joe waited.

  “The whole country is on the fritz. People are disappearing left and right. Vampires, demons, and terrorists seem to be the responsible parties. If you ask me, my money’s on terrorists.”

  “Quit wasting my time Keith.”

  “This isn’t a joke Joe. People really are disappearing left and right. They’re not even getting sick anymore.”

  “What do you mean getting sick?” The image of Charlie flashed through Joe’s mind.

  “You know, the whole pandemic of people getting sick and their bodies disappearing? What the hell Joe, you been hiding under a rock?”

  “I’ve been working a lot. Haven’t gone into town all that much.”

  “Damn it Joe, buy a computer…”

  “What else?” asked Joe.

  Keith shrugged. “No one’s getting sick anymore. They’re skipping that step. One minute everything’s fine, they go to bed like normal, but in the morning they’re gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Vamoose, gone, no one knows where they went.”

  “How many?”

  “Thousands Joe. Enough that the National Guard is being called into action.”

  Joe took a sip of his coffee and gestured towards the pile of ammunition. “And your plan is to turn my house into some kind of fortress?”

  “Not without your approval of course,” said Keith.

  Joe shook his head. “Just put the damn guns in the living room and try to make as little a mess as possible. You can stay here tonight, but I’m not making any promises about tomorrow. I’m not taking in strays here.”

  “That’s all I can ask for,” said Keith.

  Come to find out, Keith brought somewhere around twenty-five guns with him. In the stash were several shotguns, a few assault rifles, and some handguns.

  Joe let him take in two loads before he joined in. After they moved all of the ammo boxes, Joe’s living room looked like a small armory. He could barely walk to his recliner.

  With the guns in the house, Joe decided to make Keith pay his way. He put him to work. There was a large elm tree in his front yard that had died from Dutch Elm disease.

  They were standing under the tree when Joe informed him of their task.

  “We’re going to cut it down.”

  Keith held up his hands in confusion. “Don’t you think now isn’t the time.”

  “I need it down and you’re here to help. It seems like the perfect time to me.”

  “I understand there’s work to do Joe, but we still have to figure out the best way to defend ourselves.”

  Joe shrugged. “We can come up with a plan as we work.”

  “You’re ridiculous sometimes. You know that?”

  “You gonna help me or not?”

  “Yea yea, get the saw.”

  Joe cut the tree down with his chainsaw while Keith split the logs with an axe and stacked the wood. Unfortunately, it was impossible to talk when the saw was running. Any idea of formulating a plan soon fell to the wayside.

  Both men were hard workers and were quite proficient when working together. They moved like a f
actory: cutting, chopping, and stacking. Chatter was minimal when the chainsaw was idling and neither of them took breaks.

  Joe had one goal and that was to keep ahead of Keith. Keith in turn was working to get ahead of Joe.

  The tree didn’t stand a chance. They finished so fast, in fact, that Joe decided to get his old tractor and pull the stump.

  When they were finished, it was as if the tree had never been there in the first place. The yard looked a lot more open too.

  Keith leaned the Axe against the porch and sat on the steps as Joe handed him a nice cold beer.

  “Sweet nectar,” said Keith, wiping the sweat off his forehead and taking a swig. “You should really get some chairs to put on this porch.”

  Joe was leaning against the railing a few feet away. “Why, so you can come over more often?”

  “You know, some people would say having guests isn’t all that much of a bad thing.”

  “I don’t need the distraction.” He pointed at the bulletproof vest laying in the yard. “You gonna put that thing back on? I wouldn’t want the terrorist vampires to shoot you.”

  Keith went to retrieve his gear. “Knock it all you want, but when you’re the one eating a bullet and I’m still living to fight on, don’t come bitching to me.”

  “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

  Keith watched the corn as he drank. “You really take care of this whole place by yourself?”

  “Yea.”

  “You don’t have any help at all?”

  “Nope.”

  “Seems like a lot of work. A guy could save a lot of time if they were to hire it out.”

  “I don’t mind it,” said Joe. “Keeps me busy.”

  “No shit. I can see why you stopped coming out to the bar.”

  “I stopped coming out to the bar because only a damn fool would waste his time and money there.”

  Keith smiled. “You didn’t always think that way.”

  “I wised up, something you should think about doing.”

  “Maybe one day,” said Keith. “Just not today.”

  Both men took a drink of their beer and the conversation lapsed.

  Chapter 16