Purge of the Vampires (Book 3): The Night Never Ends

by Bajaña, Edgar

  Again they tried to deter him with reason. "You'll never find your boy, Willy. He's dead already, or something worse."

  They were probably right about that, too. But, he didn't care. He still heard the boy's voice. And that was all that mattered.

  The folks at the Compound tried everything to stop him, except for strapping him down to a chair. But, James was determined to find Steven, his only grandson, the last heir to his blood, the blue sky that once was.

  When they asked him why he needed to go, he simply answered.

  "Blood is thicker than night," he told them. And that was all.

  The woman at the Compound knew that once Alberto made up his mind, it was difficult to change it. They knew that he would not stop looking for the boy until he found whatever remained of him. The sisters inside the Compound knew this about about James very well. Two of the sisters called him stubborn. One of them called him passionate.

  During the time James stayed with them, he was one of the best workers that the Compound had ever had. He did whatever work the sisters needed to get done. He was more useful than some of the other men that had been there for years. Alberto was diligent, exact and hardworking. His hands were large and rough and worn with age. His hands were so muscular that he could not tighten a steel bolt with his fingers. At least, that was what the kids were saying.

  Many inside the compound tried to kept him from leaving. But no matter what they said, he would not listen to them. He couldn't. He could not turn away from Steven. He could not accept that the boy was gone.

  So Alberto opened up his ears to listen to the boy's voice that called to him and only him.

  "The sun is falling and the night is coming."

  He knew that the boy was now one of them, who dwell in the night. But, he did not care. He believed that there was still some good in the boy's blood. That was what he meant when he told the Compound that blood was thicker night. And that was all that they needed to understand. This was his business and no one at the compound would get in his way.

  He knew that the voice echoing in his mind was not some kind of delusion. So, he allowed himself to be enchanted by the boy's voice and to be taken by it. He was sure that the voice would lead him to the boy.

  "Come to me, Grandfather. Come to to me. Walk as fast as you can. Hurry."

  Every time James heard the the boy's voice, he was surprised by how the night communicated with him. Instead of being fearful, he became curious about the nature of the creatures who ruled the night, hunting and feeding off of men.

  As James traveled across the Midwestern plain, he heard the little boy's voice, as if the boy were floating right beside him. The whole time, the boy whispered in his good ear and it echoed, like waves of hot gas rising from underneath the soles of his leather boots.

  The highway was dry and cracked as he headed toward the remains of the town where he grew up, the Town of Broken Tree. He headed there to get the boy back, to hold him and to tell him that everything was going to be alright, that the boy no longer needed to be afraid of the night. James needed to tell him that the Almighty bathed all - who believed in him - in eternal light. Not even the night could take that away. He wanted to hold the boy again, regardless of what the boy had now become. Steven was his grandson and would always be his little boy, his future.

  Since the outbreak, Steven was his responsibility when the creatures of the night had taken his mother and father, shattering the boy's family into pieces.

  "Hurry. Grandfather. Hurry." This time, Steven's voice echoed in the distance, in the direction he was going.

  James remembered the night when they took Steven. He had a foolish idea that there was more to this world than a never ending grayness that stretched into the horizon. James confided in the boy about his plan. And Steven believed that his grandfather might be right.

  So, James risked their safety to travel to east coast. He did so because a part of him still believed that the oceans were, still full of life. Not even the night could touch the endless bounty inside the ocean. If there was fresh food on the coast, he could safely harvest sea food during the day and hide at night. He could even teach the boy how to fish, before he passed away. He hoped to leave the boy with some way to survive.

  So, Alberto and the boy began their journey and traveled from Midwest to the East Coast. He was sure that they could make the journey. He was sure that he could protect the boy, too.

  However, he was wrong. No matter how much he prepared, the night was something that they had to deal with even during the day. It happened so quickly. It was a month ago, when the night came upon them. James was so tired that he let his guard down and those ungodly creatures took the boy.

  It happened before James found the Compound. In reality, it was the Compound that had found him, at his weakest.

  A small group from the Compound was in the mist of searching for fresh water, when they ran into James. By this time, he had just lost Steven and was cursing God himself. He was in ruin and could not stop feeling that he had nothing left to live for. His entire family was gone and he had no one left to love him. God's world was a foul place indeed.

  James stood in an wide dirt field, surrounded by wilted trees. The white sun was about to fall and he stood there waiting for the night to take him, once and for all. After losing Steven, he had lost the will to survive.

  The small group from the compound moved fast through the wilted forest, when they came upon James. At first, they were unsure, if he was human. There were three in all, Mary, Irene and Melissa. They were sisters and the head of the three families that lived inside the Compound. They watched James stand in the field from behind a tree.

  "We should go," Melissa told her her two sisters. "If that old fool wants to die, then that is none of our business. Lets go."

  "She's right, Mary. The night is coming." Said Irene. She and her sister Melissa got up to walk back to the Compound. But, Mary did not move. She kept her eye on James, the whole time.

  "Come on Mary. What are you waiting for?"

  "I need to know who he is. Maybe he has seen others."

  Mary came out from behind the tree and called out to him. "Hey! What are you doing? The night is coming, Mister!"

  Irene and Melissa tried to keep Mary from walking toward James. "What are you doing? Leave him alone. Besides. How do you know that he isn't one of them?"

  "Let me go Melissa!"

  "How do you know?" Echoed Irene.

  "Don't be stupid. He's human. The blood suckers are tied to the night. In all this time, I haven't seen one out in the day, not like this. Everyone knows that."

  Mary called to James again. But, he did not turn around to face them. He stood there without moving, only looking at the sun. He in stood very well that sun was falling.

  Mary continued walking toward James and her sisters walked behind her with machete in hand. Mary called out to him again. "What are you doing Mister?"

  "My name is James," he answered, but did not turn around.

  "What are you doing James?"

  "I want to watch to the sun set in peace. That's all."

  "And then?"

  "Then, I'll enter the night and never come out. That's all. Is that alright with you?"

  Mary looked him over and signal to her sisters to grab him.

  "It's not. You'll attract some unwanted attention our way."

  Mary grabbed Jamess arm and he resisted. He wasn't going to attack them. He just wanted to by left in peace.

  "Let me die, damn it!"

  "Let me die. I don't want to hear my boy's voice anymore." He broke free of Mary and walked a few paces ahead. He fell on hid knees and began to cry. "I'm sorry Steven. I'm sorry. God, why have you abandoned us? What has he done to you."

  As James lamented his eyes became bloodshot. The veins along his neck bulged out, as if they were going to pop.

  Mary kept her sisters from approaching him. She took the machete from her sister's hand and walked up behind him,


  Mary could not allow James to die, no matter how much he pleaded. There were few survivors and the world needed everyone they could find, if they were going to take back the night.

  Mary took the butt of the machete and knocked James out. All three sisters took him to the compound, before the sun disappeared.

  When James woke up, he was in bed and clam. There was an i.v. connected to his arm to rehydrate him. His eyes were blurry. When they cleared, he saw Mary sitting by his bedside. She sat next to him, rubbing his forehead.

  "Everything is okay James." But at the time, he could only think of the boy and his eyes brimmed with tears. "James, there nothing that you can do for the now...nothing." Eric knew that that was true." Tell what happened out there Eric. Tell me why you wanted to die. Why would you want to give away everything that the Almighty has given you."

  James was about to laugh in Mary's face when he heard her words. He had not thought about the Almighty, since he was a boy. His mother had taken him to church only once. To James, the Almighty had never given him anything. Instead, the Almighty had taken everything away, his wife, his son and daughter in law, and now his grandson.

  He was about to laugh. But, he could not. Her voice was soft and hypnotic, like the crest of an ocean wave washing over him.

  Mary placed his her hand on his chest and asked, "Tell me James. How did you lose him?"

  James stared at the darkening sky and the sun was dying. The night was coming and an uncontrollable fear rose in his throat. His hands shook with fear. Something unnatural and unholy waited for him out there and he could not turn back. The world he once knew was now gone.

  Between James and the small town of Broken Tree, there was a thick layer of gray ash that radiated from the center of the small town. Resting on the dry earth, individual piles of black ash radiated from the town of Broken Tree.

  "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 un-daunting.

  "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 evening sun and his black pupils recoiled to the point of a needle, almost disappearing completely into the grey of his eye. His eyes burned. But, he did not turn away. He dared not. He cherished every moment the sun stood in the sky. even though he fell into despair every time the sun fell.

  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.

  #The end

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