I may have, had my Dad not shielded me immediately and started barking orders. He then rushed me back up those oak suburban stairs faster than you could say marmalade.
Even so, I knew what had happened by morning. Everyone did. They were not human. What had entered the hall that night were creatures commonly known as Vampires.
And they had offered an arrangement, one that most would examine from a thousand different angles and perspectives, one that many would outright refuse. It was an arrangement that despite these facts the adults in our group readily accepted. Hell, I heard it took the adults less than an hour to unanimously agree to the terms.
When the sun set the Vampires would protect our band of survivors, in exchange we would offer ourselves up to them for sustenance. Their leader, Caius, vowed no humans would die from the feedings, they did not require exorbitant amounts.
That first night those undead creeps cleared an eight mile perimeter, undoubtedly saving us from being completely overrun.
That was ten years ago.
Now, we have the colony. No longer called Milo, Iowa. Or even Iowa after the Indians who once roamed this land, it’s now just Junction; given our strategic location at the center of the land mass.
What's so strategic about it? After the wall went up we discovered a very important fact.
We were not the only ones. The vampires had made their deal everywhere they found the living.
Their new feudal era had begun.
Chapter 2
“Anybody home?” I called out, kicking my boots off by the door. I had set my bow on the porch outside moments earlier; I’d learned my lesson with bringing it in the house when it was dirty.
My home sweet home was a four bed two bath Victorian near the center of town. It had endured the chaos in style. The original stain glass windows were intact and the walls unmarred by blood splashes and bullets.
Zoe popped her head around the corner of the kitchen and put a finger to her lips, her nice way of telling me to shut it.
My Dad and I shared this house with the Russell family; Zoe, her husband Mark, their three year old twins Max and Tyler, and her sister Candice. Seven people in a home was not uncommon; helped with protection in the beginning and heating in the winter. Honestly, now it was more a side effect of the lack of real estate in the area. Funny thing was nobody minded.
“Sorry!” I whispered. “Hope I didn’t wake the boys.”
“Well I don’t hear any wailing, think we.re okay. How was your day Liv?”
“I had to put down three.” Zoe stopped peeling potatoes for a moment and took a deep breath.
“You don’t say.” Her voice was flat, that controlled motherly worry tone. Even her long blonde waves seemed to lose their shine when she was upset.
“I think the council needs to have a chat with Caius, they haven.t gotten that close in over a year.”
“I agree, you should talk to your Dad tonight.”
“Plan to. Hey, do you need help?” I hated burdening Zoe and Candice with all of the house work when I was out on patrol. Meal prep, like so many other things had taken a giant step backward by about two hundred years. It could now take hours to prepare dinner depending on what we had. Microwaves and drive thru windows were a forgotten memory. Well, not completely forgotten. Every once in a while I still get a craving for a handful of McDonald's fries.
I walked over to Zoe, my hand out for a peeler. Rather than give me one she turned up her nose.
“How about you take a wash first? You smell horrible.” She chided. Okay yeah there was a bit of really dead blood on me.
“Fiiine. Be back in ten.” Around the back from the kitchen was the door to the backyard. I smiled and looked right as I exited our place. Under the large oak tree I had buried my dog when he blissfully died of old age two years ago. Maybe someday I would also be so lucky. Not a day
went buy that I didn’t miss that little guy. We had some pets that survived the turmoil; a few gals were desperately trying to breed the ones we had so they didn.t die out. I hoped someday we could get one for the twins.
Directly down the wooden steps was our interpretation of a shower. Basically it was open rain water well with a grate to filter out the leaves and other debris. Worked like a charm three seasons out of the year.
The basin dumped out into a pipe with an on off switch and a shower head. Not exactly rocket science, but better than a dip in the river.
I swung open the wooden door, thankful that whoever had last frequented the wash down had put the soap back.
I slugged off my work wear, throwing my size six jeans over the door. Followed by shirt and all the extras. I remember years ago I couldn.t stand to be naked. Pop culture had given me, like most girls in my class, enough body issues to keep a psychologist well fed years to come.
It wasn’t that I was fat. I had some meat on my bones just too much to grace the cover of any teen magazine. I wasn’t a size small or extra small, I was a medium. Not terrible, but just off enough to drive me insane with calorie counting. It was an epiphany when I went from feeling
like I could lose ten pounds, to just being thankful I hadn’t lost my life.
Body image is one of the things I’m glad died with the world. No one was obese anymore; there just wasn’t enough food for it. Not only that, but the active lifestyle and earth grown foods kept us in much better shape than the processed packaged alternatives. I was leaner now,
muscles in my arms more defined from lugging my bow around.
Flick of my wrist and I was under the luke warm spray. Minutes later the stench of death and blood had been replaced with mild soap. Refreshed and somewhat at ease, I flipped the lever. No point in a long shower, wasted water. Over the left wall of the shower shack we
kept a collection of towels. Standing on my tiptoes I reached up and over, feeling along the chipped wooden pegs for a handful of cloth.
Got it.
With my towel secure, I wandered inside and quietly up to my room for clean clothes. I hate to be attached to inanimate objects, but I must admit I am attached to my room.
Opening the door was like a time machine to the early nineteen hundreds. A thick wood armoire painted in an off white and a rod iron bed took up the majority of the space. The walls had that grandma floral paper, which complemented the patchwork quilt on the bed. A few
framed silhouettes and a cross hung on the walls. It was utterly basic, utterly beautiful. When I was in my room, I thought back to the world that was. The world before me, before the outbreak, before technology. It was my solace.
Opening the doors to my armoire I revealed the futuristic secrets I hid from the rest of the space; my guns, radio receiver, various knives, even a grenade I pulled off a dead soldier when I was seventeen. Beneath my shelf of necessary evils were my clothes.
I flipped the switch on the radio receiver and set it to scan. If I was lucky I’d pick up some mundane chatter from the patrols or a southbound convoy from Lake City while I got dressed.
Our northern sister colony was two hundred and seventy miles away. While in pre-outbreak conditions that was nothing but a few hours in the car, now it was a multi-day excursion that was only undertaken with heavy
armaments. There was usually a monthly journey before the snow fell to trade supplies. By supplies I mean both goods and skilled labor. Doctors, mechanics, plumbers...they are hard to find these days.
Even though I was off duty the rest of the night I still dressed in a just in case compatible outfit. Many of the folks in town had grown dependent on the safety our night security had placed around the compound. Zoe wore flowery dresses and grew her hair out. I still
preferred pants tight on my skin and my hair just above my shoulders. Not only because I worked where I did, I just couldn’t seem to relax back into what I called civilian mode. Not to say I didn’t compromise on some things.
On shift I wore my steel toed boots and leather jackets. Off the clock I preferred something less extreme, but
still flexible enough if the situation changed on a moment’s notice.
I grabbed a pair of well-worn sandals and a long tank top. I loved this time of year. It was probably close to 70 outside, perfect weather for early fall. I could still get by without a lot of bulk in my clothes. Listening to the steady white noise pouring from the radio, I started to
towel dry my hair. That was about the extent of my beauty regimen, makeup was pretty much a forgotten thing.
Now with my free time ahead of me, it was time to plan my night. After helping Zoe with dinner I could walk up to the square and hit the pub. Most of the folks my age and up frequented the establishment at night.
Sounded like a plan if I could talk Candice into going with me. Despite the safety our vampiric brethren had bestowed upon us, everyone moved in groups at nightfall. It was almost instinctual, pack protection
against a predator. Not that they really came out among the survivors. The vamps rarely left that old farmstead on the edge they took over.
“Is a..one t...re? Ple...! ….se r....sp..d.” A garbled voice cut through my thoughts. I whirled around so fast I lost my balance.
Stumbling over my own feet I grabbed the mic and slammed down on the button.
“This is Evelyn Younger, Junction settlement. What is your position?” I awaited an answer for what seemed like hours and was met with silence.
“Hello? This is Evelyn Younger, do you need assistance?” I kept at it, trying to maintain a calm cool and collected voice. We never picked up a signal unless the lake city boys were at the wall.
“..cant...c.n.....st..n....cent...re..tr.pp..ed.” The audio was so garbled. Frowning, I tried to make out what was said. There was a strip mall not far from my old house, Stone Center. I remembered the nail salon and the frozen yogurt shop. Was it possible they were holed up in there? What was a convoy doing so close to the metro anyway? I immediately outlined my game plan, check in with Dad and form a rescue party.
But...Dad won’t want to send anyone out that far. He’ll want to wait for nightfall. Send the bloodsuckers. Which were about as trustworthy as snake oil salesmen. Plus who knew if those people would last that long?
Decision made. I threw on my leather jacket and traded in my comfy sandals for steel toed boots. If they were alive, they needed help.
I bounded down the stairs, throwing Zoe a rain check on potatoes. She waved me out the door, not seeming to mind in the slightest.
Out of the house I took 2nd street west towards main road, walking as briskly as I could without drawing attention.
North of the wall there was a Honda dealership. Junction kept a whole plethora of bikes there, for the rare occasion when we needed something that was not on hand. I wondered if they would even run. Once the bloodsuckers moved in, our folks figured they made better errand boys than our own people. It went without saying they didn.t need to rely on vehicles for transport. Those things were fast. Like blur of motion at hundred miles per hour fast.
The city was built like most rural towns in the state, it was effectively a giant square grid. Commerce at the center, homes towards the edges. My home was at the southern corner of the main drag, so I essentially could follow the center road all the way out of Junction.
At the center of town, known as the square, were the buildings that once served as stores. A lot of the center shops had been converted. The beauty parlor was a chicken coup, the fashion boutiques and knick knack shops now used for community food storage. The only one that still held its entire original purpose was the pub. Known as The Garage, it was the most popular place in town. I guess years after the end of the world, folks still loved to drink their troubles away.
“Hey gorgeous.” A deep baritone voice called from behind me. There was only one man in Junction with that voice. The last person I ever wanted to see.
“What do you want Zack?” I let the annoyance seep into my tone, just a little bit. Turning around I found myself staring up into a pair of two blue eyes at the top of a six foot two jock frame. Although the black tank top, worn jeans and combat boots made him look more like a
biker gang reject than an all American.
“My Father is having a dinner tonight for the council, you comin with your Dad?” He asked, sounding smug and eager all at the same time.
“What's the occasion?” I already knew but thought I’d ask anyway.
“Didn’t you hear?” His face dropped slightly, giving me the pleasure of kicking him off his high horse, if only for a moment. “I thought everybody knew. I’m the newest member elect.”
“Congratulations.” Not really.
“So you’re coming?” He shuffled his feet, running a hand through his thick crop of dark hair. “I was hoping you and I could have a chance to talk.”
“I don’t know...I’m pretty tired from my shift.” I know that was a stretch of an excuse, but I felt the need to point out that I actually helped around here.
“I think it’s in your best interests to be there. Why with me on the council, I’ll be one generation away from running this place. Most eligible bachelor in town.” He winked at me. He actually winked. I tried my best not to let the completely disgusted reaction I felt in my gut cross my face.
It was no secret that Zack Graham was crushing on yours truly.
The confusing part to me was why, it’s not like I was the only twenty something female in the camp. Not to mention with his position, and his ego, Zack could pretty much have his pick of the flock.
The confusing part to everyone else, according to my Dad anyway, was why I didn.t return the affection. My Dad had droned on and on about him being a ‘good match’ since the wall went up. It wasn’t that he was ugly, Zack was far from it. He had the looks, the walk, and the
smile. The only part that was missing was the brain and the purpose.
I used to joke with Candice that we should put Zack on supply runs; he could just blend right in with the infected. However for that to work, Zack would have to actually do something for the community.
He spent his days-from the first survivors meeting on-following his father around and nodding. I understand that papa Graham wanted to imbue some sort of leadership ability on his son. Granted he may even have attachment issues with his Mom getting ripped to shreds in front of them. Nevertheless, having him sit by and observe while we all pitched in to put up the wall and half a dozen other building repairs was ridiculous.
This do-nothing-say-nothing was now a council member. The first who had not shed blood sweat and tears for the whole. Unfortunately this brought to light another side effect of social regression; class inheritance. However, there would be time for my thesis on changes to society later. Right now I had to get the big lug out of my way before daylight faded anymore. Who knew how long those survivors had?
I made some lame half promise to attend his function, just to get him out of my way. It worked. He beamed and sauntered off towards what once was city hall.
Undoubtedly planning ways to get me alone tonight to impress me with his flexing muscles.
Dodging the rest of the community was easy once I got past the last house on the block. It was just field and road to the wall from here. I took a deep breath, enjoying the clean fall air. The Midwest used to be crop dusting chemical central with all the farmlands. It had caused everyone to have a myriad of health problems and allergies. Without planes and millions to feed the most of the corn fields were just overgrown grass and wildflowers.
A sea of green leaves with spots of purple and red circling the dusty cracked asphalt. If I was lucky I would squeak by without running into a patrol.
I started planning my route in my head. The freeway would take me up to the south edge of town, I would stay on the main route till the closest exit. That is unless it was jam packed with cars. I wanted to avoid housing areas as much as possible for obvious reasons. Full speed I could be up there in twenty minutes, tops.
“Where are you headed?”
Damn it, I thought too s
oon. Cole had spotted me. He was jogging up from the left.
“Hi Cole.”
“Hi Cole isn’t a place.” He had caught up to me, stepping in front of me it was obvious I had hit a roadblock. Correction, a manblock. Strength wise Cole could pretty much just scoop me up and carry me home if he wanted. “You’re not on duty, why are you out here?” I thought about bullshitting him, but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. Time to stress him out.
“I picked up a distress signal from the city.” I filled him in on what I heard and what I thought. His face darkened as I spoke; no doubt the topic had stirred up his own memories of the outbreak.
“Council know?” He demanded in that big brother tone, I rolled my eyes.
“Like we have time for bureaucratic rhetoric.”
“We have rules for a reason these days.”
“Whatever, if you want to go back and check in with them go ahead. I’m headed north.”
“Liv...” He tried to put his hand on my shoulder. I rolled out of the way.
“No. I’m not going to go sit on my thumbs while someone is eaten alive out there. You know what it's like.”
“No I don’t.” He snapped at me, jabbing his index finger in my shoulder. “Neither do you. No one has been that far north since the military pull out.”
“Caravans...”
“...go around that graveyard. Not through it. You sure you heard right?”
“I’m not crazy Cole.” I growled at him. I knew where this was going. Next thing they’d be asking me to sit out rotation. A week later I’d be washing clothes in the yard. He held his hands up, in defense.
“Not saying you were. Let’s just slow down and think about this.”
“You can think all you want. I’m going.” I pivoted and kept walking down the road toward the wall. With Cole instep right beside me.
“What are you doing?” I glared at him, keeping my pace up. His hand went to his walkie, before I could protest he was relaying to post. I shut my eyes, thinking it was game over. He was going to report my attempt in, I would be dragged home. Then, adult or not I was going to
The Blood Bargain Page 2
