A Town Called America

by Andrew Alexander

At that moment Mick finally saw Cara clearly enough to realize she was covered in blood and smiling as she consumed the blood from the man’s body. That moment was a lifetime for Mike. No words or thoughts could explain what was happening. He only felt fear from seeing his wife as she was.

  Mick slowly turned away from Cara and crept away from the horrific scene. Three steps away from the bushes he’d been hiding in, he took a deep breath. Then he sprinted to the house, but as he looked back, he lost his balance and fell face-first on the ground.

  “Oh, shit,” Cara said.

  Mick pushed himself up from the ground and ran as fast and hard as he could. Once inside the house, he closed and locked the doors behind him. Then he grabbed a bag and stuffed the children’s clothes into it.

  “Get up! Get up!” he yelled, panicking. “We’re going on a trip.”

  A few minutes later, Mick was pushing Jessica and Egan toward the door when it opened. Cara stood in front of the lace curtains that hung from the open doorway, which were blowing slightly from the ocean breeze. Mick moved the two children behind him.

  He would do whatever it took to protect his children from whatever this thing was that stood between them and the door.

  THIRTY SIX

  Even after all these years, Billy still gets to me, Cara thought, as she sat in the wagon, cleaning the blood from her face and hands. After she cleaned herself up, she headed toward her home on the dock. The moment she opened the door, she saw Mick facing her, with the children behind him.

  “Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cara asked.

  “You changed your dress,” Mick said quietly.

  “Yeah, I spilled something on it.”

  Mick stood looking at Cara, wondering if he might be losing his mind. She looked completely normal in every way.

  You’re not losing your mind. I can explain everything, Cara said without using a single syllable.

  Mick shook his head until he finally spoke. “What the hell are you?”

  “Baby, I need you to trust me. Let’s talk outside. Please, baby. Kids, go to your bedrooms now,” Cara said calmly.

  After Jessica and Egan went to their rooms, Mick spoke again. “I saw you. You…you were different. I don’t understand…your face, your teeth…You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”

  “Mick, trust me. I can explain,” Cara said, as she moved slowly and cautiously toward him.

  The only way Cara felt she could mend the situation was to be honest. After taking a few short steps, she moved as fast as she could toward Mick.

  In the single blink of an eye, it appeared Cara was in two places at once before appearing in front of him. She reached out her arm and tried to touch his check gently. Mick, having backed into a corner, turned his face away from her in fear. He was petrified, and she knew it. Cara understood, but she couldn’t figure out a way to put his fears at ease without manipulating his mind. When she touched him, Mick instinctively flinched.

  “Please,” Cara begged.

  “Cara, I don’t want to know what you are. I just want you to go.”

  As she stepped back, Mick watched the tears form in her eyes. They poured from her eyes as she begged Mick to trust her.

  Cara found no other way to get through to Mick, so she did something she didn’t want to do initially. Before he could react, she was next to him, holding his hand in hers. The joining of their minds began with a flash of light the moment she made physical contact with him. Their minds, for that moment, shared everything. They walked hand in hand outside to the dock, where they had spent some of their happiest moments together.

  Mick sat down and listened, as he felt no desire to do anything other than what she was requesting. Tranquility had passed through his mind like a wave of warm water over a sheet of ice. It was calming and sensual to both, but Cara knew the effect wouldn’t last long after physical contact was broken. And Mick would remember only the thoughts she chose to share, nothing more.

  Cara explained that her name was actually Christiana, but she preferred to go by Chris. She had lied about her name in order to protect Mick and the children from the M.M. Unlike the other times she had joined minds with someone, this time she was going to be completely open and honest. She told Mick about her childhood, about the fighting and trying to survive after the collapse, and about Rick and Robbie.

  She also told him a secret that she had kept from him: the secret of how she had met a man named Billy, a man she later found was her father.

  Rick and Chris had been traveling alone in those days, and she was all of nineteen or twenty. Needing shelter the two lovers had stopped at a building that once had been a police station. It was four stories tall, and a large adjacent parking lot still held the remnants of the police vehicles that once had patrolled the town.

  Hindsight is always 20/20, but the one thing they never should have done was enter that police station. There just were too many things that said they should stay away, things they had ignored.

  The sun was high in the sky, its rays heating up the pavement under their feet as they tied up their horses to a tree. When they approached the police station, they were tired, hungry, and ready to relax and take a few days off. They’d been traveling for more than a week and were ready for a break.

  The name of the town was Blanton, and it was remarkably untouched—well, other than the plywood that had been used to board up the windows on the police station. It wasn’t ordinary scrap wood, though; it was quality wood nearly one inch thick, and it was meant to keep people out.

  Bright-red letters painted on the main entrance said, KEEP OUT. YOU ARE ENTERING AN EXTREMELY DANGEROUS ENVIRONMENT.

  Perhaps they should have heeded the warnings, and perhaps in a preglobal-collapse era, they might have turned and walked away, but in the world they were in, everything was extremely dangerous. Rick and Chris figured someone was just trying to scare people away. They’d find out later that they were more correct than they knew.

  After a great deal of effort, eventually they pulled away a board, which allowed them to enter through a window at the back of the station. The two climbed through and were amazed at once.

  In bright red, painted on the floor, were more warnings. DO NOT ENTER! YOU MUST LEAVE AT ONCE. THIS IS NOT A JOKE! THIS PLACE WILL ONLY BRING DEATH TO THOSE WHO ENTER!

  Again they didn’t think much of it, so they walked past the warnings. After completing their routine of clearing each room in the building to ensure there were no people, they found nothing odd or out of order. The only areas they didn’t have access to was a hallway that led to the holding cells and an adjacent room where the police more than likely had conducted interviews and interrogations.

  Settling in on the second floor in a comfortable little room that looked it had been a waiting room, Chris and Rick pushed two old couches together to form a makeshift bed. After cleaning up a bit, they made their way to the rooftop to watch the sun go down, as they had many times before. It was a glorious sunset in which the entire sky had faded into an amazing mixture of red and blue. Rick and Chris sat and watched the sun as they took their fill of rations.

  It wasn’t until late that evening that the atmosphere seemed to change, and they both began to feel uncomfortable. It seemed that as soon as the sun had set, the environment was different; the entire building felt as if it somehow had come to life. They heard noises: the sounds of footsteps where there were no people, doors slamming. They even felt they were being watched. Both practical people, they felt there had to be some logical explanation. However, even as grounded as they were, it didn’t take long before they started to wonder whether the building might be haunted.

  Rick and Chris had settled into their makeshift bed after closing the door and undressing. They were exhausted but comfortable. A small oil lamp gave them just enough light to see around the room. The room had cheap 1970s wood paneling on the walls; the ceiling was stained yellow and brown from years of water damage; and they smelled the odor of waterlogged wood throughout. Th
e pungent smell and constant drip of water from the ceiling, however, weren’t going to bother either of them that night. It was in fact one of the nicest places they’d stayed in a very long time.

  With his arm around Chris, Rick was starting to fall asleep. They were lying under a thick wool blanket, ready to drift off.

  Bang!

  “What the hell was that?” Chris asked. “Was it the door to this room?” She opened her eyes to look around but didn’t move.

  Rick sat up and looked toward the door. Chris, lying next to him, just listened.

  “I thought I closed the door. Probably just the wind,” Rick said. He lay back down and slid back into a comfortable spot next to Chris.

  Bang!

  The door to the room slammed shut again. This time Rick shot up and jumped off the bed as Chris lit the oil lantern. The lantern illuminated the entire room in a soft yellow glow that brought them a sense of comfort and security. Moments later, while Rick was looking at the door, wondering what had happened, a cold breeze flew past him, and the lantern went out.

  In total darkness now, their eyes hadn’t yet adjusted. Chris lay back down, not sharing her fear of what was happening with Rick as he stood by the door for a moment longer.

  As soon as he turned his back to the door, it happened a third time. This time he had no doubt something very odd was going on. Startled and alarmed, Rick told Chris to stay in bed. He picked up his Colt pistol and, wearing only his boxers, opened the door.

  “Put the gun away. You don’t need it.”

  “What? What did you say, Chris?”

  “Baby, I didn’t say anything. Come to bed. I’m sure it’s the wind or something.”

  A few moments later, Chris also heard a voice.

  “Come to me, my angel. I’m this way.”

  “Why do you want me to get out of bed?” Chris asked Rick, as she rolled onto her side.

  “I didn’t say anything, Chris.”

  “Yes, you did. I heard you.”

  “Chris, I think I’d know if I said something to you.”

  Chris got out of bed and picked up her black leather pants from the floor. After dressing, she walked to Rick, fastening the buckle on her pants before picking up her shotgun.

  The two walked out of the office and slowly made their way down the hall. There were doors on both sides with labels that read, LOGISTICS, PERSONNEL, BREAK ROOM, and SUPPLY CLOSET.

  They walked past room after room until they reached the top of the staircase they knew went to the main floor, where all the police desks were.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  As Rick and Chris stood silently, listening to the footsteps coming from behind them, they felt a sense of dread. Rick turned his head and looked past Chris, who stood behind him. “Did you hear that?” he asked her.

  “Yeah, yeah, I did.”

  “Chris, what is it? There’s no one there.”

  “I’m here,” the voice said.

  “You heard that, right? A man’s voice?” Chris asked Rick

  “Yeah, I heard it. What’s going on?” Rick asked, half laughing, trying to contain his fear.

  Holding each other’s hands, they slowly moved down the stairway. They were about ten feet into the large open space at the bottom of the stairs when Rick realized he no longer felt Chris’s hand in his. When he turned around, she was gone. He ran back up the stairs but found no sign of her. She had vanished.

  “Chris! Chris!”

  Rick got no answer, and after searching the entire building twice, he found himself alone in that police station for the rest of the night—if in fact he was alone.

  THIRTY SEVEN

  At the top of the stairs, where Rick and Chris had stood after hearing footsteps move toward them, Chris heard the voice again.

  “Come to me, my angel. I’m this way.”

  Rick had just started to move down the stairs as he held Chris’s hand. As Chris moved, the voice became clearer. By the time she had reached the bottom step, she didn’t just hear it—it was inside her mind. It was calling to her, beckoning her, as she felt her willpower slowly fade from her mind.

  Having no desire to do anything but obey, Chris stepped away from Rick and walked into an adjacent hallway. The hallway had only two doors, which were marked, INTERROGATION ROOM 1 and HOLDING CELLS 1–4.

  Come to me, my angel. I’m in here.

  “Where are you?” Chris said. “I can’t find you.”

  Come to me, my angel. I’m through the doorway.

  But the door is locked, Chris said in her mind, as she found herself standing in front of the doorway with her hand on the knob.

  The lock suddenly clicked, and the door swung open slightly, just enough for her to see a faint glow from the other side. She had no fears, worries, or thoughts of Rick or what might be on the other side of the door, only an incredible, all-consuming feeling of tranquility.

  She pushed open the heavy metal door and stepped inside. There were four holding cells on her right and a one-way mirror on her left. The first three cells were empty, with the doors open. The last cell, Chris was certain, was the source of the voice that was in her mind.

  Still feeling no anxiety, worry, or fear, she moved toward the last cell. Once more she saw painted red letters but paid no attention to them: THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU OPEN THIS CELL.

  Come to me, my angel. I’m in here.

  When Chris walked up to the cell door, she saw the last thing she’d expected to see: a feeble-looking old man in tattered clothing lying on the floor.

  Her heart dropped, and all she felt was sorrow and suffering. Looking at this helpless old man on the floor nearly broke her sprit. Through her mind she physically felt this poor soul’s suffering.

  Nearly in tears Chris stood looking at him. “How can I help you?” she asked him.

  “Open the door and remove the salt from the floor,” the man said weakly.

  Without a second thought, Chris did as instructed, pulling down a lever that was between the cells. Instantly the cell door slid to the left. With her foot she scattered the salt that lined the front of the cell.

  As soon as she had cleared the salt, faster than she could see with her eyes, the old man was upon her. He was directly in front of her, looking her in the eyes.

  She felt no desire to fight and no fear. The old man, whose skin displayed an irradiant glow, placed his arms around Chris’s waist as she fell backward into his arms. She was under his spell, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  When he opened his mouth slightly, his sharp teeth penetrated her neck. He felt her vein pulsating as blood dripped from her wound. It was a feeling he had longed for and desperately needed after having waited for so many years in that cell. Now his time finally had come.

  To Chris it was erotic, sensual; she’d never felt this alive before. It was a glorious moment she wanted to last forever.

  Unfortunately for the old man, they weren’t alone. Standing outside the cell, watching as the old man took Chris’s blood, was a tall man in a long duster and a black cowboy hat that was just large enough to conceal his dark eyes.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  The creature looked up for only a moment then returned to its feast.

  I’m a Ghost, and I’m here to take back what you stole from the Nine. The man in the cowboy hat only needed to think, and the thoughts were in the creature’s mind.

  Ghost? The Nine sent a Ghost after me? You lie!

  Yes in fact they did send me after you, and it’s my duty to take you.

  Before you do, tell me, human, what have I stolen from the Nine that you or they would wish me dead?

  The man in the cowboy mentally responded, I’m here for your life. You stole your life from them, and now they want it back.

  You foolish human, if you’re a Ghost, you should know I’m immortal. Neither you nor the Nine can kill me. Your name is Billy. I know who you are, and I can feel your fear.

 
; With a speed unlike that of any living being on earth, the foul demon leapt from the ground, attempting to move past Billy. To the creature’s astonishment, without moving his body, Billy extended his right arm straight out, and as the vampire moved past him too fast to see, Billy caught the creature in his grasp.

  Under normal circumstances, this creature would be extremely powerful, but during its captivity, its body had deteriorated, and it was weak. As it had feasted on Chris’s blood, however, it soon would regain its strength. But Billy wasn’t going to allow it the time; he was going to destroy it without hesitation.

  After lifting the vampire by the neck, Billy threw the creature hard onto the concrete floor. He then removed his revolver from its holster and shot the creature twice in the head before locking the creature back in the cell.

  “Chris, listen to me,” Billy said. “I know you’re weak, but you must do exactly as I say, or you’ll die slowly and painfully.” Chris was lying on the floor next to the cell as Billy knelt next to her.

  Billy stood and stepped over to the vampire, and grabbing a handful of its hair, he pulled it near Chris. Removing his knife, Billy knelt once more. He slashed the creature’s wrist then placed the open wound near her mouth so she could drink.

  Billy knew what he was doing would have very serious consequences, but the only other solution was to let his only daughter die in front of him.

  As the blood from the vampire’s wrist drained into Chris’s mouth, she drank. The warm blood gave her a sensation like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was indeed glorious.

  After Chris had her fill of her first blood, Billy drug the vampire back in the cell, locking the door. He knew that in time the M.M. would send another Ghost to fetch the creature.

  While her body lay on the floor, in her mind she awoke somewhere else, somewhere different—that place between sleeping and being awake. She was aware of everything around her, but somehow, as in a dream, she knew she could control certain things that she normally would have power over.

  As she opened her eyes, the world around her was new and different. She saw the man in the hat, but he was out of focus, as was most of what she was seeing.