"The dead are there, under the ash." Steven whispered in James's ear.
"They sleep there?"
"Yes, under the pile of black ash."
James pointed at the pile and asked, "But, where are you? Can you tell me?"
There was only silence. He looked at the mounds of black ash and was taken back by the sight. The work before him looked hard.
"Come quickly, grandfather. Come as fast as you can."
Then, James heard another voice. It sounded unnatural and twitched inhospitable ear. It mocked Steven's voice.
"Yes Grandfather. Come quickly. Come as fast as you can."
"Don't listen to him. I am still alive and I'm trying to hold on to whatever I can down here. Hurry father. Hurry!" Steven whispered in his ear and James quickly walked over to the first pile ash. Steven wasn't there. He had to walk further, where the pile of black ash became one.
The sun was falling and James hoped to retrieve the body of the boy before the end of the day.
He drudged through the charred earth and it began to change. The ground became moist. But, James would not be deterred. He was determined to find the body of the boy.
The sun was red and he realized that the hike was longer than he thought. He drudged over the land thinking about how stupid he was. But, he could not stop thinking about what was coming next. The night was coming upon him fast. The heat rose off the ground and melted away the horizon. He sleepwalked his way toward the Town of Broken Tree.
Memories of the past rushed to the front of his mind. The once fertile midwestern plain that fed a nation was now untouched by tractor pulls and the hand of commerce.
Long ago was the time when he traveled so easily from Chicago to New York in his Toyota Corolla. This was once the road he used to see his grandson.
She won custody at first. But, she loosened up as the child became older. She went through a painful divorce and a terrible second marriage. Those were easy times compared to now.
The world before was now a memory eclipsed by something awful and unimaginable.
"The night is coming," the boy whispered. The night is coming. Again, the boy whispered in James's ear.
"Run father, run. Hurry father, hurry. They have me stored somewhere and I can't move. I can't feel anything. But I know that they are taking bites out of my leg."
With his son's voice in his ear, he gathered himself and grabbed the shovel that hung around his back. There was only one way to get through this. He could not travel during the night.
James was a stocky man covered head-to-toe in tattered blacken clothes. It sheltered him from the dust and ash that rode around so freely with the wind.
A cloud of black ash lifted off the ground with every step of his heavy boots. The road ahead of him was barely visible, but there it was. The yellow and white lines of the highway faded into the horizon underneath the black ash.
James pulled down his mask and looked into the glare of the
To him, it wasn't just the sun that disappeared, it was also the boy. He saw the boy every time the fire burned in the sky. He saw the gentle face of a boy who he only knew as, Steven. To him, the boy and the sun were one. Both reminded him a world that once existed.
Now something else, something horrifying. Tears gathered at the rim of his eye, as he stared at the sun and thought about the boy.
The world was now a place filled with fear of the black night that was quickly approaching. As he made his way to the wasted town of Broken Tree, he looked at the sky again and the flesh of the sun spilled along the horizon. He estimated the amount of time that he had left before the night engulfed him and anyone else in this God forsaken land.
"The night is coming."
The town at the end of the road looked like a pile of bricks against the dying sun. The town was still out of reach and he knew that he would not make it to the town of Broken tree, before nightfall.
Just like he lost his son and daughter-in-law, he lost the boy to the night that never ends. The night was something else now. The nights were no longer filled with the relaxing sounds of swaying trees. The nights were filled with a deathly silence that chilled his bones. The nights came upon the earth like a wave of Black Death that no man could escape and no man did.
The night were no longer filled with the relaxing sound of swaying trees. The air was stagnant and warm.
Eric came upon the village that sat along a quiet road, where vehicles no longer moved to and fro.
He lost the boy and there was only one way to get him back.
He made sure that there wasn't one in the ground. Clean, the metal rod came out. No black blood. No creature of the night.
He took the shovel out and began to dig. He shoveled as fast as he could. He buried himself in the ground. He played a wooden board and made sure to cover himself with
Throughout the night, he closed his eyes and went to sleep. He had to bare the voice of his son.
"There biting me father. I know that they are. Please make them stop. They are biting. They don't want soul. They want my body."
He tuned out the boy by listening to what walked above. They were gypsies that moved with the night. Where ever the night went they followed. It was as if they always existed with the night.
41
The Book Of James
The night came in many ways...
James Night was a lone figure walking down an abandoned highway. He hiked on a stretch of i80, in the middle of Indiana. His clothes were dark and he carried a wooden sword that scraped against the surface of the road.
Every day, the land was dry, flat and the sky was grey. Every day was the same. There was grey everywhere he went, with no sign of break.
Every once and a while he stood at the edge of a broken highway, looking into the sky and he remembered how many times he tried to wait for the sun to come out. But, the sun no longer appeared. It had not appeared to anyone in years. Even he did not remember how bright it used to be.
From a far, James appeared dark as a bug, almost insignificant. However, determination shined with every step he took.
Today, he walked on a once great highway, thinking about how it was all going to end for him. He had seen many pass by from one life to another, even his grandson.
"The sun is falling" said his grandson.
When ever he heard his grandson's voice, the lone figure took a lick from his favorite flask. After a good drink, he always heard the boy's voice, a little clearer.
"The sun is falling."
The voice came from right next to him. He looked to his side and there he was. The boy looked like a translucent impression made of curve glass. But, it was him. James knew his face so well.
"Thank god," said James.
The boy was still alive and James felt so relieved. The boy's voice was still there.
It had been a couple hours since he last heard the boy's voice. James looked down and saw the boy walking next to him.
The boy looked up at James. "The sun is falling and the night is coming,"
He heard his grandson's voice again. It was louder this time. So, he knew that he was getting closer to the place where they kept the boy's body.
Steven was his name and he was 8 year old with brown feathered hair and bright blue eyes. He was such a good looking boy that people could not help, but stare at him.
James looked down again and the boy was gone.
Regardless, James remembered the boy's innocent eyes. They reminded him of a time when the world was encircled by a cerulean blue sky. But, those times were long gone. They sky was now pale, colorless and dead, like a black and white photograph.
At the time, James was hiking down a ruined stretch of I-80 toward the town of Broken Tree. With sword in hand, he wore a navy blue backpack over his dirty clothes. Throughout the day, he drudged across the midwestern plain which was no longer filled with fields of wheat or corn.
Now, there was only a grey tone covering the land.
He sniffed the wind
and it smelled of rotten eggs. It didn't matter though. He was making progress. He was getting closer to the place where they kept the boy. That was all that mattered.
During the days, he moved from shelter to shelter, making his way east. During the nights, he dared not venture outside. No one did. At night, not even the stars and the moon appeared, only darkness.
The night had turned and James lived in a world were the night was no place for man.
In the end, man never inherited the earth. Instead, god unleashed a never ending night, upon all who walked. The day was the only time when anyone was safe, when the soft glow of day pushed back the night.
During the day, the creatures that ruled the night retracted their sharp fangs and quietly waited for the night to come again. Those kind were few, not like before. Now they have changed again.
James couldn't stop thinking about all that he loved and lost, since the night came.
As James walked, he had already lost all hope. He knew that nothing would go back to how they were. He knew that the vampires were relentless, that eventually all men would die under the heavy cloak of night. And one day, even the day would cease to exist....even the day.
"The sun is falling. The sun is falling. Believe me. Please." His grandson's voice was right.
James had to find cover before the night came. The night was his enemy.
In the night, the things were relentless and they did not forgive nothing, making the night no place for man.
"The night is coming."
The road was littered with holes that the exposed the land.
A sun-bleached poster flew across the desolate road. It had been traveling for miles on the wind alone.
For a moment it fell just ahead of him and stayed in place for him to take a long look.
The poster carried an illustration of the American future, of something that would never be. The cardboard poster was caught underneath a heavy rock. It shook like a leaf, then flew away, lifting into the cloudless grey sky, disappearing into the beyond, into the coming night.
"I'm coming for you, Steven. Don't worry," he answered the boy. "I'm coming for you. I'll never let you go. Never."
James said those words, knowing that he and Steven would never see the light of day again. It was a suicide mission that he was on. However, he promised Steven that he would never leave this world, like a coward.
He promised the boy that they would make it to the end, together.
James remembered the boy and nothing would stop him.
Into the night he went.
42
The Night Is Coming
It was a month ago when James and Steven were on the run and hiding under a pile of wooden planks in an abandoned rest stop on I-80. They were making their way to the East Coast. The place was bare and night was coming. They barricaded themselves in the washroom of the rest stop.
Steven looked at the white sun and said, "the night is coming, father. We have to hurry."
That night, James and the boy had only a few moments before the creatures came upon them. In that moment, James tried to teach the boy something important, something that could save the boy's soul. Something that his mother once told him after his last time in church. He didn't know why it seemed appropriate. But, it was something that Steven should also hear.
As they hid, James and the boy's ears began to buzz with what was about to come upon them. The night was coming, quickly.
James kept the heavy planks of wood from crushing the boy. They had been in this place before.
He had prepared the place where they hid. And all the preparation that he did that day, did nothing to slow the horde down. He stuck his head out a little further than he should of. He was to anxious to reach the coast.
James held the boy and kept one hand on his knife. He needed to have it ready, if the dark one broke through the bathroom door. He had found the knife sometime ago. It was on a dead backpacker along the side of the road. It was serrated on both sides and the most useful tool he had.
James thought about his son and his daughter in law. "Please," they said. "Don't let Steven become one of those ungodly creatures. Please father. Don't let him turn."
In the dark, James unsheathed his knife and kept his ears alert. He could not let the night take the boy's soul.
"Steven, look at me." James tried to explain something important to the boy, something he should have told him a long time ago. James remembered what his mother told him, such a long time ago. He didn't understand why it pooped into his head at that moment. Maybe it was the fear or desperation. Anyways, he repeated it to Steven, word for word.
"God makes all things come true, Steven. Remember his name, Steven. Always keep him in your heart. He makes all things come true, like the water, fire, earth and dreams."
"And the night too?"
"Yes, even the night. But, listen to me. There is one more thing, I want you to know."
There was another loud bang on the bathroom door and Steven held his red flashlight and it turned on. It shined in his face, "The night is coming father."
"Listen, Steven. Listen closely."
Bang! There was a loud slam outside the bathroom door. Then another. Then nothing.
"The night is here, father." He whispered. "The night is here," the boy panicked. "What are we going to do?" Steven buried himself in his James's arms. He thought that his grandfather could protect him. They were both so scared of what was flying out there, in the night.
The sounds outside was unnatural. First, they heard something that sounded like rain, except the rain fell against the building sideways. Then, the rain felt like a thousand pebbles falling in a metal bucket. Finally, the sound felt like large rocks being thrown at the wall behind them. The wall shook and they braced themselves. Outside, thousands of large black bats pummeled the building, rocking it back and forth, with them holding on to dear life.
"Tell me grandfather. Hurry, what's his name?"
James knew the creatures of the night were upon them and he looked at the boy and saw fear in his eyes. He was so scared himself that he could not answer the boy's question. His words got caught in his throat.
"Tell me grandfather. Hurry, what's his name?"
Any hope that remained, vanished. He wanted to give the boy a chance to believe in something good before he died. He wanted to give the boy a good death.
James could not let the creatures of night take the boy alive. It was pitch dark and James brought the knife to the boy's neck, without him seeing. He could not let those monsters take the boy. He imagined his boy's face and his eyes watered and his stomach started to feel empty.
"The night is coming Grandfather The night..."
The pounding outside the bathroom door became louder and louder. The night was now inside the building.
Before James had a chance to tell the boy anything, the night covered them both in darkness and the boy was gone.
The night itself had snatched the boy from his arms and nothing remained. He felt as if someone took a bite out of his stomach and he didn't feel a thing.
It all happened so fast and he did not have a chance to tell the boy the Almighty's name. And if the boy had just believed in him, he would have been allowed into an everlasting light.
The boy never heard a word. The cold hands of night made sure that the boy was forever damned.
In the end, they left James alive. But, they took the boy to torture his soul, to take away hope in this world, to weaken him. So, that James would just give up and submit and they would no longer hunt him.
"Grandfather, help me. Come to me. Walk faster. The sun is falling and night is coming."
43
The World Has Turned
During the day, the creatures that ruled the night retracted their sharp fangs and quietly waited for the night to come again. There wasn't much time to move around during the day.
James couldn't stop thinking about all that he loved and lost, since the plague hit. He even missed th
e frivolous things everyone else enjoyed like Monday night football, barbecues ribs, reality television and even a processed chicken nuggets.
As James walked, he had already lost all hope. He knew that nothings would go back to how they were. He knew that the vampires were relentless, that eventually all men would die under the heavy cloak of night. And one day, even the day would cease to exist.
Since the plague hit, James wasn't always alone. He always had the his grandson by his side. Together, they witnessed the horrors of men and creatures, alike. Together, they had made it as far as they could.
The sun was white, but the days were still hot. For a moment, he thought about the other survivors who he met on his journey with Steven. There were so many of them. Some were strong and evil. Others were good and weak. James's was a bit of both, when he needed to be.
He could not remember their names, not all of them.
But, he remembered a group of people that he had just met in a place called "The Compound." From the road, it didn't look like much. On a large piece of land by a narrow river, there was a collection of three small structures, where three sisters lived. It didn't look like much at all. He was glad they were woman because every man that he crossed paths was a trickster at best. When the plague hit, America lost more than the night. We had lost any sense of good.
He wished that he had crossed their path sooner, though. Maybe, he wouldn't have lost the boy.
The group from "The Compound" warned James not to leave. "The Compound is the safest place to be at night," they told him. "You're an old fool. Do not to go out there, into the night. You'll never make it. No one has made it to the east coast and no one will."
Those that loved him most called him stupid, mad and possessed by the night itself.
"You're too old," they told him.
James knew that they were right about that. He was an old man. But, he wasn't frail, not at all. At age sixty, he was stronger than most men in their thirties.
Purge of the Vampires (Book 3): The Night Never Ends Page 15
