The Dead Days Journal: Volume 1

by Sandra R. Campbell

  Halloween’s eyes locked on mine, bathing me in their warm orange glow. Jerking the knife from his throat, I slit the tip of my pointer finger and pressed it to his lips. I felt the soft swipe of his tongue and watched in awe as the hole in his neck sealed, the crater at his temple filled, and the crack in his head mended.

  All that from a few drops of my blood.

  “Halloween will do it. Won’t you?” I removed my finger from his lips. “You said your intentions were honorable. Prove it. Save what’s left of my family and I’m all yours. No more running. No more fighting. I’ll go willingly to your island and do whatever you tell me to do.”

  Ben slammed the end of his rifle down, embedding it deep into the soft moss where’s Halloween’s head lay a mere second ago. We never saw Halloween move, only felt a cool breeze as he pushed me aside and leapt to his feet. Twisting the gun from Ben’s loose grip, Halloween threw it aside and then tossed me over his shoulder.

  “We’d better get going—dawn’s coming. And the name’s Orrin, not Halloween.”

  The constant jostling and blurred landscape bothered the throbbing that grew louder in my head. I ended up vomiting down Halloween’s backside. Too bad my stomach didn’t have much to offer.

  I’d already lost sight of Ben. He had no way of keeping up, but I breathed a sigh of relief knowing he would soon be protected by the rising sun, if in fact the sun did have some ill effect on Halloween’s kind.

  After setting me on my feet, Halloween removed the red bottle, which was about the size of a test-tube, from his pocket. The mist swirling inside looked as if someone had exhaled cigarette smoke into the bottle and sealed the lid. Halloween spoke a few soft words, that weren’t English, and then threw the bottle over the edge of the cliff. I watched it tumble end over end to the river below.

  “What was that?”

  “A burial of sorts…”

  I wondered if he knew the creature he destroyed and was about to ask when Halloween snatched me up and tossed me over the ledge. I cursed him on the way down, but when I hit the water, my arms and legs refused to work. The shockingly cold temperature zapped any fight I had left. Snagging a single breath of air, I sank into the colorless river.

  Then something big slipped past me in the water and a sudden sharp pain in my shoulder felt like my arm was being torn from the socket. A second later Halloween and I breached the surface gasping for air.

  Halloween moved faster than human eyes could follow. Before I knew anything, he had my arms locked around his neck and was wearing me like a cape as he made his way through the river shallows and up the steep, rock-covered embankment on the other side. I focused my thoughts on Ben and my family—I had to believe some of them survived—and getting someplace warm.

  Duncan, Lincoln, my mother… We’re a strong unit. We have a fully stocked arsenal with multiple escape routes, and my father taught us well. My father was willing to have me raped because he believed it would save my mother—he will protect our family.

  Using his incredible speed, Halloween ran faster than he had before, which made the late night air ten times colder. I wanted to scream through the pain of my skin freezing to my bones, but that required working vocal cords. Mine were frozen solid. By the time Halloween delivered me to the lower storage bunker I felt like a half-eaten human-popsicle.

  Inside, he released my wrists, but without functioning muscles, I collapsed to the floor. He stood in the open doorway of the bunker scanning the blackness of the storage room. I could only see as far as the thin line of a moonbeam that leaked in from outside, which meant I saw almost nothing. His head made tiny bobbing motions that coincided with my sharp intakes of air.

  “Is th…the h…horde s…still inside?” I could barely get my trembling lips to form the words.

  “No. They wouldn’t risk getting trapped,” Halloween murmured back as he dropped down on his haunches. His eyes were a comforting blaze in the dark. “What’s the protocol after an attack?”

  “P…panic r…room.” Is my mom there? Lincoln? Oh, God, please let them be okay.

  I considered ditching Halloween and making a run for the panic room, which happened to be two levels up. But it was such a stupid idea that I almost laughed out loud. Idiot. I’d never make it. Even if my body was fully functioning, I couldn’t outrun or outmaneuver a vampire. I had to remind myself that he knows this place, too. Thanks, Jack. Plus, what would keep Halloween from killing whoever made it to the panic room…

  Providing anyone made it inside.

  Halloween slipped an arm around my waist and stood, lifting me with him. When he turned his eyes away, the storeroom was almost completely black. I could barely see my hand in front of my face, but obviously Halloween could see fine. As he led me around, he pushed several items at me: a dry towel I recognized by the terrycloth material, a sloshing bottle of water, and then a cumbersome weight that I suspected was a stack of dry clothes.

  My arms were shaking and I ended up dropping my oversized load. I stared down at nothing, wishing there was just a hint of light in the room. I needed to see something, anything.

  Suddenly there was light. Halloween lit a candle and directed the flame so I could see what I’d dropped. A pair of black yoga pants, wool socks, and a heavy green sweater. I was a little wobbly when Halloween released his hold on my waist, but I managed to kneel without falling.

  While he went about the room igniting candles, bathing the storeroom in small flickering lights, I assumed for my benefit, I struggled to untie the slippery laces and remove my waterlogged boots. An inch of water sloshed out and came close to soaking the dry socks, but Halloween’s hand magically appeared to rescue them, too.

  He’s going to help my family. I have to let him help me. And if he gives any sign that he’s going to back out on his promise, I’ll kill him. We had him before, and Ben and I can take him again. Where the hell is Ben?

  Halloween stood above me holding the socks, and he watched as I attempted to wiggle out of my wet, sticky clothes. Trembling fingers and slowly thawing muscles made the simple task of changing clothes nearly impossible. I’d managed to get my boots and jeans off, but when my arms got twisted above my head, trapped in the slushy, cemented material, Halloween lent a helping hand. Pulling hard from the end of the sleeves that I couldn’t reach, he brought me to my feet and tossed the sweatshirt aside. It landed on the dry concrete floor with a harsh slop.

  Fully exposed, I felt the burn of Halloween’s eyes traveling along every inch of my bare skin. I can’t say I was embarrassed or even self-conscious, but I was definitely feeling something I didn’t like.

  Determined not to let him rattle me any more than he already had, I reached down to grab the dry sweater off the floor and quickly pulled it over my head.

  “As soon as I am dressed, I’m going to see my family.”

  I’d bent over to slip on the yoga pants when Halloween planted his cold hand on the back of my neck.

  “I smell death here, but I also sense life, and not far from us. Some of your family is still alive. However, you can’t go to them, not yet.”

  “Can’t go to them…” I jerked up so fast my head would have collided with his chin had he not been a vampire. “I have to. I have to see them. You promised.”

  “I agreed to protect your family and you agreed to obey. We will do things my way. It is, in fact, the only way.”

  “What if someone’s hurt and needs help? I can’t be here and not know who survived.”

  Without thinking I moved closer to the racks where the weapons were kept. Halloween pounced, rolling me to the floor but without hurting me.

  He growled and reached over my head. “No weapons for you.” I followed his movement with my eyes.

  A piece of purple nylon rope sat coiled on the bottom shelf. Tucked in the center was a plastic-wrapped end, and he grabbed it. He sat up and tied the end tightly around my waist, let out some slack, and then tied the other end around his own waist.

  “Asshole,” I
swore under my breath, but as promised, I didn’t fight. It was better than wearing the dog collar.

  Halloween tested his knots with a few tugs, and then he held out a smoothed-fingered hand, his claws retracted. “Where’s the panic room?”

  I placed my hand in his and allowed him to pull me to my feet. “The panic room is in a separate bunker on the south side of the natural cave. A narrow tunnel on the second level gets us there.”

  Halloween had changed his mind, I thought. I was going to see my family.

  “Noticeable?” Halloween suddenly paced the floor between the high steel shelving units with me in tow behind him.

  “No. The entrance is hidden pretty well.”

  Halloween nodded and continued his pacing with renewed vigor. Several times I broke into a jog to keep from falling and being dragged.

  This cannot be good.

  On our third pass through the clothing racks I anchored my feet to the floor and gripped the edge of a shelf with both hands. The rope pulled sharply at my gut, and then I felt Halloween’s breath stir the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.

  “What seems to be the problem?” I asked, but I didn’t dare turn around.

  “This is a mistake. We’re leaving.”

  I let go of the shelving unit just as Halloween jerked hard on the rope. Colliding, we fell awkwardly to the floor.

  “No, we’re not.” Grabbing hold of his pointy ears, I yanked his head, our noses practically touching. “Ben will be here soon. We both know he’s going to find more ammo before he comes inside. You need me alive. I’m your steak, remember? So, before you can dine, you need to protect my family from the horde. Don’t ruin this.”

  Halloween snatched the back of my sweater and pulled me away. “Dawn’s coming.” His raspy voice cracked.

  Could his declaration of the sun’s approach be some sort of surrender? Blood regeneration and sensitivity to the sun—so far Halloween isn’t doing much to disprove the vampire myths. Or maybe I’m the one being played. No, this makes sense. He doesn’t want to be vulnerable in front of my family. This must be why he won’t let me go to them. It’s time to play along.

  “And?”

  When Halloween let go, shifting his weight to sit up, I tried to force him back down; he didn’t budge. “Are you going to burst into flames? Turn into smoke? A bat? You tied yourself to me. So, you better tell me what I’m in for here.”

  He tossed me aside with a mere flip of his hand and got to his feet. But his actions were slower, almost soft in execution. His movements didn’t match the intense glare in his eyes.

  He doesn’t trust me, either.

  “I told you where my family’s hiding. There’d be little I could do if you decided to break our agreement and slaughter them. I’m trusting that you won’t.”

  Halloween turned his back on me and his shoulders stiffened, creating a rigid line of tension. I thought he’d drag me kicking and screaming back to his little cave. But instead he spoke very softly. “The sun weakens me.”

  Yes, that’s one! It’s also the reason the horde wouldn’t risk being trapped inside. They aren’t strong enough to fight in the day. This is our advantage.

  I tugged at the rope until Halloween turned around. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

  He stepped closer, towering over me. “We need to go someplace dark where we will be alone, protected from the sun and your family.”

  The deep rumble in his voice and oddly glowing eyes were all very menacing, but none of that disguised his genuine need for help. He needs to feel safe. Just like us.

  “Done.”

  Dead Day # 1,451

  The day started with everyone in mourning and ended in more death. The enemy we fear most struck last night. And they’re not at all what we expected. I, along with everyone else, assumed these vampires were the same legends of old. They are not. They have leathery black and grey skin, huge clawed limbs, pointed ears, and strong fangs; and although they have a humanoid shape, there’s nothing human about these creatures.

  My dear Sylvia was the first to be taken. One lured her outside the perimeter with faint cries. She believed the cries belonged to Leo. Before I could stop her, two black shadows dropped from the trees and tore her in half. Duncan and I managed to cut those bastards down while they feasted on her blood, but they didn’t stay down long.

  Lincoln remembered the drills and got everyone inside. We’d begun securing the bunker when twenty more vampires appeared. Two got inside through the cave entrance. Harris took one of them out, but he couldn’t escape the second and there was little of Harris left when Robert found him. Robert managed to kill the monster gorging on Harris’s intestines with a gunshot blast at point-blank range—even these vampires can’t survive without a head.

  We’re holed up in the panic room with whatever weapons and supplies the kids could gather. We’re safe for the time being, but there’s no way of knowing what will happen tomorrow.

  The vampires are no longer clawing at the steel door, and in a few hours I will take Duncan and begin patrolling the grounds. I have to be sure there isn’t a vampire lying in wait inside the bunker or the cave. Once I have the area secured, I’ll send everyone to pull what we need into the panic room, which is where we’ll stay from dusk till dawn. Hopefully the legends about vampires and sunlight are true.

  Tonight most of the group cried themselves to sleep while Duncan and I watched over them. That’s when Robert informed me that Leo’s alive. He said she appeared on the northwest side of the bunker two hundred feet or more from the courtyard with a vampire following close behind. Ben fired rounds into it, he said, but odds are it didn’t die. No one has seen Ben or Leo since.

  I can’t ignore these implications. My daughter brought the vampires here, allowed them to follow her home. If she is still alive, she will answer for the death of her mother. Ben will answer, too. Leo and Ben will be punished for their treachery. I’ll be glad to slice the other side of Ben’s throat and strangle my daughter with my own bare hands.

  Sylvia Marie Marrok, age forty-three, loving wife and mother is gone, as is my heart.

  Harris Jenkins, age forty-seven of Silver Spring, MD: dead. Jin Sang Kim, age thirty-one: taken, location unknown, presumed dead. Laura Albert, age ten of Philadelphia, PA: eaten.

  Population: 13/15

  Rations: Unknown

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  It took a while for me to transform the heavily stocked closet on the second level into a secure haven for Halloween. Blankets, sheets, pillows, rags, candles, buckets, and cleaning products now littered the hallway in semi-neat piles. Halloween sat unmoving and barely breathing in the midst of the organized mess I’d created. He hadn’t said much since he untied me and we left the lower level, and he certainly wasn’t making any effort to help. From the looks of him, I didn’t think he could.

  “Halloween?”

  Silence.

  “Are you asleep?”

  Not so much as a twitch.

  I went back to the task of moving the closet’s outside slide-lock to the inside of the door. The lock wasn’t much, but Halloween had insisted before he passed out.

  Normally something as simple as changing the position of a small piece of hardware wouldn’t be such a difficult job. However, I had only one wall-mounted candle for light, and my only tool was a small flat-head screwdriver and two of the four screws were Phillips head and stripped. Removing the lock had been tedious and annoying, but the placement on the inside was goddamn irritating. I was trying very hard not to impale my hand when the screws slipped and the sharp edge of the screwdriver jabbed my fingers. Somewhere my father had an antique, hand-crank drill, but, of course, he was the only one who knew where it was.

  “Fuck!” I watched the blood pool on the top of my knuckle where the end of the screwdriver ripped across my flesh, and then I slammed the worthless tool to the floor. “A little help would be nice.”

  I spun around to let my mood loose on Halloween only to find h
e wasn’t slouched against the wall anymore. His bare chest brushed against my nose when he popped up directly in front of me. The smell of fresh earth and honey filled my nasal passages.

  I craned my head back to look at him and he was gone. Only when I felt the swipe of his moist tongue over my injured knuckle did I realize he’d dropped to his knees.

  A heavy vibration, something between a groan and a purr, traveled from his abdomen, up his throat, over his tongue, and across my skin. The strangely comforting sound kept me from pulling my hand away. However, the heavy footfalls that echoed down the tunnel had me quickly pushing Halloween into the dark closet. In here, he was the one in danger.

  Ben rounded the corner with a shotgun and a pack slung over his left shoulder. He wore a heavy scowl and flushed cheeks. He looked pissed off, but I knew he had to be exhausted. The physical exertion it took to get back to the bunker as fast as he did would be enough to do in most men, but he also had to be emotionally drained from our fight, believing I was dead and then finding me alive, killing Jack, knowing a pack of vampires was attacking our family, and then watching me drink blood from one of the vampires.

  I stopped pushing and stepped away from Halloween to address Ben. “Are you okay?”

  “Just peachy.” Ben slipped the large well-worn army pack from his shoulder, then held the pack out to me as if it weighed nothing. We were both silent for a minute. My eyes focused on the thick bulge of his bicep and the strong lines of his forearm. Otherwise, I might have recognized the pack sooner.

  “Here, take it.”

  I took my pack with both hands, clutching its bulky weight to my body. “How did you find it?”

  “The wind was howling on my trek through the woods—alone. I’d just passed some bushes when a gust of wind blew a familiar note in my face. It wasn’t hard to figure out it came from underneath the honeysuckles.” Ben’s eyes moved from me to the dark closet entryway.