The Oldest Living Vampire Tells All: Revised and Expanded (The Oldest Living Vampire Saga Book 1)

by Joseph Duncan

  “Don't wander off by yourself!” I barked, and she froze, looking back at me with fear-struck eyes. I was the oldest of our group and so, by custom, was leader of this expedition. I didn’t want to frighten anyone unnecessarily, but I wanted my band to be wary. I glared at each of the four, lips taut, hoping to impress upon them my seriousness. “That goes for all of you,” I said. “Don't go anywhere unaccompanied tonight. Not even to shit. The Fat Hands may be fleeing from those Others. If they are, we might have enemies nearby. Enemies who are fast and brutal.”

  Hyde was the only other man in our group who had participated in the search for Fodar and Evv. Face grave, he arched his eyebrows at Strom. “It was very fast,” he said.

  Strom put his hands on his hips and cursed, looking west.

  I charged Brulde and Eyya to gather wood, lots of it, and Strom and Hyde to build our shelter. I tasked myself with making the fire. I was probably one of the more proficient fire-makers in our village. I had always had a knack for it, even as a boy. I took out my fire-making kit and hunkered down, crouching over the bag to keep the flint and batting as dry as possible. By the time we had built a fire and constructed a lean-to large enough to accommodate the five of us, dark had descended upon the mountaintop and the lowering heavens were black and starless.

  We squeezed in together under the shelter to eat and rest. A few sparse raindrops angled in under the edge of the roof, blown in by the increasingly stout wind, to hiss in the coals. It was close quarters but comfortable enough and we slowly began to thaw. Strom, Hyde and Brulde conversed idly as they ate the venison we had brought along. Eyya hummed quietly as she picked burrs from the fur trim of my coat. She was restless. Her eyes returned again and again to the darkness outside our shelter. When she had finished cleaning my coat of burrs, she started grooming my hair.

  “Take off your vest and I'll repair the seam,” she said. “It's coming apart at the shoulder.”

  “It'll be fine,” I answered, patting her on the hand. “Just leave it be tonight.”

  I ate sparingly, senses alert to the darkness beyond the firelight. I could hear the wind howling through the treetops. It was a sound much like the hum inside a conch shell, only louder. There were no animal sounds. The beasts of the forest had retreated to their own shelters ahead of the storm. The only noise, apart from the drone of our conversation, was the whoop and shriek of the wind in the treetops and the thunderous percussion of lightning.

  “Did you see how they arranged their campfires?” Strom said.

  Yes, I had noticed. They had arranged their campfires in a defensive ring. Our people did that, too, when we felt threatened. You bedded down inside the ring and kept a watch on the darkness outside of it. It was a good way to keep the group safe from large predators. I said as much and Eyya peeked back out at the dark, her brow furrowed. I did, too. Suddenly, our single campfire seemed woefully inadequate.

  Nothing we could do about it now.

  Hyde took first watch when we had finished eating. Brulde shimmied over to Eyya and me and lay down.

  “Help me spread out our bedding,” Eyya said. Nyala had sent our best reindeer blanket. We unrolled it and draped it over our bodies. Brulde and I squeezed in close to Eyya, enfolding her protectively in our arms.

  “No escape for you tonight, my dear,” I teased her. “Either way you turn, you’re going to get prodded.”

  “At least I’ll be warm,” Eyya said with a smile, and then she pressed her face to my chest and closed her eyes.

  Brulde's calloused hand lay warmly on my hip. We watched one another in grim silence over her head, listening to the storm. Finally, Brulde sighed and relaxed his body to sleep.

  I didn’t sleep well that night. I would start to drift off and then the wind would hoot and I would jerk awake, thinking it the cry of the Lizard Man. Twice I dozed and saw the creature in my dreams, its eyes glowing eerily, its pale body inhumanly contorted. Both times I snapped awake, heart thudding in my chest, feeling breathless and jittery.

  Just a dream!

  Finally, I rose to take watch, relieving Hyde at the fire.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked, and I shook my head.

  “Bad dreams.”

  Lightning flickered outside the mouth of the tent, freezing the rain in midair for an instant.

  “It is a good night for bad dreams,” Hyde said with a grin, and I chuckled and nodded in agreement.

  Hyde yawned and stretched his arms. “Well, if you are awake,” he said. I nodded my assent and he crawled to bed. His tent mate was a motionless hump beneath their blankets. Hyde vanished beneath the heavy furs. His companion stirred and said something to him groggily, too low for me to hear. Hyde whispered back and then they got comfortable, spooning together to share their body heat.

  I kept my spear close at hand and stared out into the rainy forest. I imagined evil, hungry eyes out there, watching us from the darkness. In my mind’s eye, we were surrounded by Lizard Men. They encircled our tent, crawling silently toward us, teeth like sharpened stakes, rain splatting down on their fish-belly white skin. Every noise made me jerk to attention, heart leaping into my throat. I watched the dark for their eyes, those strangely reflective eyes. Once or twice I thought I saw a pair of them, winking dimly in the dark. Each time, I lurched to readiness, but it was just the firelight glinting on some wet leaf or gout of water.

  It was still dark, and still raining heavily, when Strom awoke. He rose and shuffled to the edge of the lean-to to piss, his urine steaming in the chill. “This cold will make a woman of you,” he said. He flopped down beside me and held his palms out to the fire. “Have you heard anything?” he asked, meaning outside in the darkness.

  “Just the rain,” I said.

  “I’ll take watch now if you’d like to get some sleep,” he said, and I nodded.

  We conversed quietly for a little while. “Go lay down,” Strom finally said the second time he caught me yawning. “I will guard us until daybreak.” I didn’t argue. I crawled across Brulde and Eyya and scooted up to her from behind. The furs were warm, if not quite completely dry. I lay my spear on the ground beside me, within easy reach if anything hungry should decide to come in from the rain. I squeezed in close to my favorite wife, arm across her waist, and burrowed my face into the bush of dark hair at the back of her head. Eyya smacked her lips and mumbled something incoherent. Brulde was snoring loudly, but that had always been more of a comfort to me than an annoyance. The steady respirations of my mates calmed my twitchy nerves and I was finally able to doze off and get some much needed rest.

  Tomorrow, we shall catch up to the fleeing Fat Hands, I thought.

  I was afraid I would dream of the Lizard Man, with his glinting eyes and stake-sharp teeth, but I did not dream of anything.

  3

  It seemed I no sooner shut my eyes and Brulde was rousing me. I came awake with a jerk, reaching for my spear as I lurched upright. “It is dawn,” Brulde said, putting a hand on my arm to restrain me. “All is well.” Eyya was awake already, cooking some meat over the low flames of the campfire, her eyes heavy, her hair a fetching disarray. Strom and Hyde huddled next to the fire beside her, bleary-eyed and shivering. The rain had slackened but the gray morn was drenched and dripping. I gave silent thanks to my ancestors that the night had passed without incident, that we were all safe and sound.

  “I need to piss,” I mumbled to Brulde.

  “Me, too.”

  He accompanied me outside the shelter. The forest around us was ghost-like with fog. We stood shoulder to shoulder beside the lean-to and voided our bladders.

  “The Fat Hands saw our fire last night,” Brulde said as he urinated. “One of them left the group and is headed in our direction.” He nodded south.

  I followed his nod and saw the tiny black form of an approaching Neanderthal. He was only just visible in the fog, but he had already covered about half the distance between his group and the small mountain we had sheltered upon. “That's good,” I said. �
��We'll meet him halfway. Maybe we can make it back home before nightfall.”

  We returned to the shelter and told the others what we had seen. The prospect of an abbreviated missioned cheered them greatly. I was much relieved myself. I did not relish the thought of spending another night out in the wild. There were things out here in the wild. Unknown things. I had seen one of them with my own eyes.

  “I wonder who it is?” Eyya said, but she did not rise to go look. Her people’s visual acuity was nowhere near as sharp as ours. Instead, she fed us. There was not a lot of meat to eat but it was hot and tasty and the cook was much more cheerful now, which is always good seasoning. She even giggled as Brulde licked his fingers clean, leering at her roguishly. We were all in a much better mood. Hyde and Strom entertained us with a humorous hunting story. I laughed and told them one of ours. We broke camp shortly after dining and headed down the slope of the mountain to meet the envoy the Fat Hands had sent.

  The region on the other side of the mountain was a wide flat plain dotted with low shrubs and wind-stunted trees. It rained intermittently as we crossed the featureless steppe, a heavy but windless rain that fell straight down, drumming on our heads and shoulders like fleshy fingers. The Fat Hand drew steadily nearer as we slogged through the puddles and storm-heeled grass. The dense precipitation prevented us from discerning the identity of the approaching figure. As we drew closer, the Neanderthal began to jog, and we picked up our pace. The Fat Hand’s features swam out of the haze. We were surprised to find that it was Eyya’s brother, Poi-lot.

  “Hoy! Poi-lot!” I hailed him, and Eyya jerked to attention. A look of relief broke across her features like sunshine through heavy clouds. I grinned and waved but the soaked Neanderthal did not smile back.

  We stopped about ten yards apart. Eyya moved forward to embrace her brother, but he backed quickly away from her. He threw up his hands as he retreated, motioning for her to keep her distance. “Stay, little sister,” he said, his face pinched. “Come no closer!”

  The normally boisterous Fat Hand looked fretful and haggard. His face was jaundiced and heavily lined, his eyes deeply socketed, his jutting brow furrowed. It had only been a month since we’d seen him last, but he looked as if he had aged ten years. His hair hung in wet tendrils. His shoulders slumped. He looked diminished, and to see a Fat Hand looking small and vulnerable was more than disturbing. It was frightening.

  “What has happened, Poi-lot?” I asked. “Why are your people fleeing south? Why have you forsaken our valley?”

  He did not speak for a moment, just stood there, wet and steaming. I thought that he was embarrassed, that he was too ashamed to tell us why they were running away from home, but then I saw him peeking over our heads – he kept looking to the wooded mountains to the north of us, his eyes bright with anxiety—and I realized he was not ashamed. He was frightened. He was afraid of something in the hills.

  He licked his lips, still looking toward the mountains, and said, “Darkness has befallen our valley. You might be safe-- your people might escape-- if you run home and warn them now. If you follow us into exile. If not…” He finally met my eyes. I had seen a gaze like that before. It was the eyes of a rabbit caught in a snare.

  “But what is it?” I asked. “What has happened?”

  Poi-lot fetched a sigh. “A great evil preys upon the Gray Stone People,” he said. “Our land has become the habitation of devils.”

  Thunder boomed distantly. The wet plains stretched around us, void and desolate.

  “A great evil...?” I said.

  “Demons came in the night to feed upon our people. Our shaman tried to appease them with offerings, but they took our offerings and then they took the shaman. None of Tuhl’s magic had any power over them.”

  “Were they like the creature that stalked our camp?” I asked. “Were they like the Lizard Man?”

  “Yes. It is that devil, but there are others.”

  “How many more?”

  Poi-lot shrugged. “I have only seen the two, but they are strong and fast. They bite the necks of their prey and suck out the blood, then leave the bodies hanging from the trees to mock us.”

  “Father?” Eyya asked. “Our brothers and sisters...?” She wanted to approach him, give him some comfort, but held herself at a distance.

  Poi-lot smiled bitterly. “Mother lives. She fled with us. She is exhausted and half-mad with grief, but she is alive. Father is dead by now, I’m sure. He stayed behind with a few others to insure our escape. Our brother Litch stayed to fight with father. The rest of our siblings are gone, stolen away in the night.”

  “Who cursed you? What did your people do?” Hyde demanded. Fear had made him rude.

  Poi-lot looked at him and shook his head. “I do not know, Fast Foot. We killed an old cave bear many moons ago. Maybe Doomhalde is punishing us for killing his avatar.” Doomhalde was the name of his peoples' bear deity. “An old cave bear took one of our little ones in the spring so we tracked it to its lair and killed it. But Doomhalde has never punished us for killing His people before.”

  We shuffled our feet, looking to the wooded mountains. His paranoia was infectious.

  “We were many just one moon cycle ago, but now we are only thirteen,” Poi-lot went on. “We are all that escaped. We are going to stay with the Yellow Stone People in the south, if they will have us. They are our kinsmen. They will take us in. It is many days journey from Gray Stone. We will be safe there, I think.” Poi-lot dropped his gaze. He didn't seem too certain of that last part. He looked up at me earnestly. “Your people should come, too. The Yellow Stone People are friendly to your kind, and their land is plentiful. I believe your people would be welcome there.”

  “Thank you, Poi-lot,” I said. “I don't think our elders will want to go so far away, but we have other campsites in the valley. Some are quite far from your hunting grounds. We normally move before winter anyway.”

  Poi-lot nodded. “Perhaps that will be enough.”

  He looked worried for us nonetheless.

  “Return to your village quickly,” he said then. “You should not be out here when night comes again... not with so few of you to fight.” He looked at his sister intensely, committing her face to his memory, and then he turned and jogged away. He faltered, turned back to us one more time. “Come south if the devils come for you next,” he called. “Do not try to fight them or appease them with sacrifice. It will do no good.”

  The five of us exchanged uneasy looks. We watched Poi-lot until he vanished behind a low hill, then turned and headed home.

  “Do you think it is true?” Strom murmured as we sloshed northward.

  “Why would he lie?” I asked.

  “I didn't mean to imply he was lying. Only that, you know, Fat Hands are… superstitious.” He glanced at Eyya, then gazed off to the broad green humps of the mountains.

  “I was in the party that searched for those Fat Hands,” Hyde said. “The creature that stalked us was no imaginary devil.” He shuddered. “We should hurry.”

  Eyya cried quietly for a while as we traveled but she didn't slow our pace. We returned to Big River Camp just before nightfall. As soon as we arrived, all five of us went to the Siede and delivered Poi-lot’s fearsome tale. Father called immediately for a summit to discuss the situation. By the end of the meeting, we had made our plans. We would decamp for our westernmost hunting grounds the next morning, just to be safe.

  We also decided-- foolishly, in retrospect-- to send a party of warriors to the cave of the Gray Stone People.

  I was one of the volunteers.

  4

  It was a foolish decision. Of course it was. But as I explained before, we did not share the Neanderthals’ superstitious beliefs. We worshiped our ancestors. We believed in the spirits of men and animals, not demon snakes or bear gods or any of the other childish things the Neanderthals believed in. We scoffed at the gods and devils of the Fat Hands. Even my father, who was known to have a more open mind, had come to the con
clusion that the Foul Ones were plaguing our valley again and nothing more.

  But we also decided to move.

  Never hurts to be careful!

  It took most of a week to break down our settlement and trek to our western hunting grounds. This was a sparsely wooded area with broad flat plains of exposed rock, churning rapids and deep, twisting gorges with steep walls. We called the area Bubbling Waters. There, we encamped upon the scree of a system of weathered limestone cliffs.

  We chose Bubbling Waters because it was easy to defend. The cliffs hosted a multitude of caves that could be used to our advantage should anyone attack. The near vertical walls of the gorges gave us a sense of security. Here we could fight. Here, in the clefts and jagged ravines, we could hide and ambush our enemies. There were a thousand hidden crevices from which a warrior could surprise his enemies. And plenty of places to hide as well, if the need arose.

  After we had settled in, the warriors who would be journeying to the land of the Fat Hands were summoned to one of the larger caves to prepare for the expedition.

  5

  Preparations for a war party consisted of several elements. First, the expedition was planned in detail. Route and tactics were debated and voted on by all the men present. After our plans were hashed out, we feasted. The women of the tribe had stocked our cave, which we called the war lodge, with food enough to last the whole night long. With our bellies full, the young ones were sent away, the entrance of the cave was blocked with hangings and dream weed was placed ceremoniously on the fire. This was done amidst much chanting and stomping of feet, and with a certain degree of gravity, for we were trying to rouse the spirits of our ancestors, to wake them from their slow dreams and draw their attention to us. When the cave was smoky and our spirits enhanced by the psychotropic chemicals in the bluish haze, we disrobed, slathered our bodies in animal fat and commenced with the ritual orgy.