"You're messing with me, right detective? Do you hear something."
"No Captain, not at all. I don't hear a thing out there."
"That's not what Charlene tells me. She says that you can hear the dead. She told me that you can hear the dead anytime you want."
"That's right. But, I don't hear anything out there, right now. I swear."
"I just want you to know that my little girl doesn't lie to me, Detective. She never has. I believe her. If she says that you can hear the dead then that's good enough for me. And I'm willing to bet your life on it."
The captain pressed the barrel of the gun harder into James's back.
"You've made your point, Captain."
"Listen to me, James. I don't care about making a point. All I care about is finding this killer. I need to stop him. Don't you want the same things? Don't you want to catch the killer that has terrorized your old neighborhood for the last three days.?"
James remained quiet and thought about Charlene. Out of all the women that he met, he had to fall in love with the Captain's daughter. James had known Charlene, since the days he was just a recruit. For most of that time, they really didn't know each other. They were strangers who passed each other in the hallway, nothing more. It was just recently that they had become more than friends.
Charlene Harris was a beautiful woman with kind soft brown eyes and dark wavy hair. Their relationship started just recently and James loved her more than anything in his life. A part of him suspected that she loved him too. In some cosmic sense, she was bound to him as he was to her. And there was something beautiful about that. So, he knew that he could never let her go, no matter what. Maybe that was why the Captain resented him. Maybe, that's why they decided to keep their relationship a secret from, her father.
At work, James and Charlene acted indifferent to each other, as if every time they met was the first time. It was a rues and they didn't care who believed it and who didn't.
"Come on James, don't you care about catching a killer that's running loose in your old neighborhood. Don't you care about doing the right thing for Charlene?"
James remained quiet.
"Well, if you don't. I do. I care about the next girl that will die at this killer's hands. And I'd do anything to stop him."
The Captain moved the muzzle of the gun back to James's head.
"Believe me, Detective. I'd do anything."
"I believe, you."
"Good. Do you hear anything out there?"
James didn't know what to tell the Captain. He couldn't share with him what he saw at that moment. He couldn't tell him that he saw his daughter running toward him. The Captain wouldn't know how to process something like that. To speak of it was madness.
So, James stayed quiet and didn't mention a word. He didn't care that the Captain knew about his ability to hear the dead or about his relationship with his daughter, Charlene. He wasn't going to say a word about what he saw.
"I know she's saying something to you. And I need to know what that is, Detective. Tell me."
Nine
They're Coming For Us
James stayed quiet and stared into the cemetery.
He kept his eyes on Charlene, as she broke into a run, straight for his position. She wore the same black dress that he had bought for her. he gave it to her as an anonymous present. It was now only strips of rags. Her bra was ripped open and her bony chest was covered in dirt. Along the way, parts of her fell to the ground. She ran fast, until she reached the black gate. She hit the black bars of the cemetery with both fists.
She could go no further. Out of frustration, she continued to bang her fist on bars of the gate. Flakes of skin and pieces of bone went flying in every direction, mostly onto the sidewalk.
Charlene did everything she could to break free of the cemetery. She tried to squeeze her head through the narrow space between the black bars. But, it was useless. The skin and bone of her skull was grey, dry and brittle. Her decayed body easily fell apart. She tried to squeeze through again and she crumbled away, every time. She opened her mouth wide, exposing her teeth. Her jaw became unhinged and swayed back and forth.
The woman he loved had become something hideous.
Then, she screamed. "They're coming for us! They're coming for all of us! They're coming right now. Run!"
James remained where he stood, as she repeated those words over and over. Dust flew out of her mouth in large gasps. James heard her. But, he tried not to listen. In fact, he wanted to forget every word she said.
Right there and then, he tried to convince himself that what he saw was not real. She was an illusion. The whole thing was a figment of his imagination. Regardless, he promised himself that he would never repeat the words that she said that day to anyone again. There was nothing going on, nothing out there. There was only an empty cemetery before him.
However, James's mind couldn't help but try to piece together the puzzle, the words of warning that spewed out of her mouth. He wondered who was coming after her. He wondered who was it that sucked her light away and placed this kind of fear in her, the kind he had never seen before.
The dry skin over Charlene's skull flaked off and and parts of her skull was crumbling away. There were shafts of light beaming through her skull. She extended one arm through the bars of the gate, clamoring to escape.
With hollow eyes, Charlene looked back at the cemetery and back at James, back at the cemetery and back at James. Every time she swung her head, pieces of her skull went flying in every direction.
James could tell that Charlene was trying to escape. But, she wanted James to help her escape whatever it was that was keeping her tied to the cemetery.
"I can't," he whispered to himself. "You're not real."
This should have not been happening. All of the cells in her body were dead and she should have been gone into another world, through a chasm of light. That's what happened to everyone. That is what should of happened to her.
But, there was something else keeping her here, a malevolent force that kept her around to suck all the light out of her, to feed on her, whenever it wanted.
James thought about what she just said. They're coming for us! They're coming for all of us!
"Is that why I am the way I am? It can't be," James gasped.
"What is it James. Tell me. What did you hear? What did my daughter tell you?"
James damned himself for saying anything. He couldn't keep his mouth shut, like he wanted. In either case, he could not help her or the Captain. He could help no one.
Again, Charlene banged her fist against the black bars of the cemetery out of anger and her body kept falling apart. Through the gate, Charlene reached for James with the only arm she had left.
"What do you want? There's nothing that I can do for you. You're already dead. Besides, you don't even exist."
"What is it James? You better tell me what she's said."
At that moment, James realized that Charlene wasn't trying to escape. Instead, she was trying to warn James about something that was lurking deep inside the cemetery. Something more horrifying, than the dead itself. With her bony fingers, Charlene pointed back at the field of tombstones. She wanted James to look out there, at what frightened her, at what imprisoned her.
James looked through his scope into the sharp evening light. He refocused and looked deep into the cemetery where he spotted it, the thing that Charlene was pointing at.
There were three of them standing in a row, as still as statues. But they moved as one and as if they floated over the earth, without touching the ground.
With the sun behind them, they looked like black shadows with white glowing eyes. They looked menacing, as they slowly moved toward Charlene. They floated toward her. All that James could think of, was that they wanted to drag her back into her coffin, where an eternity of darkness waited for her bones.
James was horrified. He loved every part of her and he could not help her. There was no passage of light waiting f
or her. There was only darkness now.
James felt bad for her. But, he was also caught in a sense of wonder. Charlene's soul should have passed into the other world by now. The 36 hours were up. She should have gone to a brighter future, through a rift of light from this world to the next. But, she didn't and he wondered why.
As Charlene continued to struggle, she extended her arm farther than her bones and dry flesh could go. Her fingers and her remaining arm fell to the ground and shattered on impact. For her, there was no hope in escaping the cemetery. There was no hope in finding out who killed her. In fact, she was going to die a second time. Except this time, something was going to torture her soul, until the end of time.
At the end, Charlene crumbled and turned into grains, then fine sand. Then, there was only a black pile of dust, where Charlene once stood. Back into the earth she went and there was nothing left of her, but an echo of fear.
Again, James looked into the cemetery for the shadow of the three dark figures that he saw just a moment ago. But, they also disappeared. Once again, Calvary Cemetery was calm, quiet and empty.
James brought down his rifle scope from his face, revealing his eyes.
"What are you doing, James? Keep looking for her!"
Strangely, James's eyes were as white as milk and they had a faint glow to them. However, he was far from being blind. He was special and saw things that no one else could. They were things that he wished he could forget.
James couldn't stop thinking about the three shadowy figures inside Calvary Cemetery. There were three of them keeping a dead girl trapped inside a cemetery. He'd never seen anything like that.
"Detective! Tell me what she told you? Who killed her?"
James looked away from the field of the dead and stared into blinding light of the evening sun. James said goodbye to the last ray of sunlight that remained. At that moment, he realized that he was not saying goodbye to the sun, or even Charlene. He was saying goodbye to the world, as it used to be. For when darkness descends upon him and everyone else in the city, nothing would ever be the same.
"What did she say, James?"
The Captain pushed the barrel against James's shoulder.
"Who killed her, James?"
Detective James Night heard the desperation in the Captain Harris's voice and he sympathized with him, a father who had lost his daughter, a father using justice to seek revenge. He couldn't help feeling that everyone - like Charlene - was far from the God's grace. Not even, the innocent had a chance to be saved, not anymore.
"Come on Detective. Say something. Say anything."
James heard the Captain pull back the hammer of the pistol.
"This is the last time I'm going to ask you, Detective. What did she say? If you don't tell me, I swear to God...that I will..."
James stared at the sun for the last time. Then, he fell to his knees, closed his eyes and answered as truthfully as he could.
"She told me that they're coming. They're coming for all of us."
For a moment, there was silence between them. Then, Captain Harris pulled the trigger and a flock of black birds scattered into the darkening sky.
Part Two
In the clay, god and man
Shall be bound,
To a unity brought together;
So that to the end of days
The Flesh and the Soul
Which in a god have ripened –
That soul in a blood-kinship be bound.
Sumerian Tablet, 5000 B.C.
Ten
The Night Bred Hate
Now, the boy knew better. He knew that the night bred hate instead of love. The boy with the forgotten name and a cold nose walked alone, trailing five steps behind his mother.
As the light of day started to lose it's color, so did the boy's strength. Several times, he tried to speak. But his words fell low, almost too low for his own ears to pick up. But even, he didn't understand why he felt so tired or why his hands felt like stone.
"please mom. please. Let's go back. Please, let's go home, before the night comes."
All the boy wanted to do was to go back home where it was safe to play. That was all. But, something held the beauty of the boy back. When the boy encountered the cemetery, his wonder for life was gone. His head hung low and his black hair fell over his forehead and eyes. He walked heavy-footed, like a zombie. His eyes stared down at the floor, following a thin crack down the length of a dirt path that was dry, crusted and uneven. The whole day, he followed his mother, no matter what she did or where she went.
In the end, the boy and his mother always ended up back at the cemetery.
For her, it did not matter that there wasn't a proper sidewalk along this part of the cemetery. As long as she was near him, she did not care about anything else. How many times did they tell her to stay away from him.
Only once before, did he feel neglected like this and he remembered that things only got worse from there.
"mom." The boy tried again. "mom."
Again, he heard nothing back from her. She just kept walking, as same as before.
This time, the boy fell into himself, caving in, almost completely defeated. But, he also kept on walking, one foot in front of the other, unable to fall behind, unable let her go.
As he and his mother walked down a side street, the boy repeated the words that he heard on the Internet. The words were only a few. But they never escaped him. He remembered the newscaster's face on the glowing page. The boy was laying on the couch, when he heard it. He said something that the boy could not get out of his head. He remembered the announcer's exact words and it filled his chest with an uneasy sense of fear. Every time he repeated those words in his head, he saw a new world rising at the horizon, a world where the night will never end. The words stayed with him where ever he went. They haunted him, like the night itself. He dared not repeat them out loud.
"please mom. let's go back home. please. before the night gets here."
By late afternoon, his mother had already forgotten his name, his perfect little name that took her a good part of a year to find. It was a name that stayed nestled in her heart, until just a few hours ago when they first started to circle the cemetery.
By now, the boy's name was lost to her. And the night was coming.
The boy was right about that, though. The night was coming and everything familiar would soon be gone because with the night came something else, something unnatural.
The boy lifted his eyes and through the strands of his black hair, swaying back and forth. He watched his mother hobbling on the outside of the cemetery with her fingers crawling over the old stones of the outer wall.
"mom."
The word escaped the boy's mouth like a deep gasp. His words were nothing more than something barely spoken, something that could barely be deciphered. The boy didn't even know why he bothered fetching for her attention. Every time he tried, his voice faded with the dying light.
Before the boy realized it, he was 20 steps behind his mother. Now, he was far enough behind where anyone could snatch him off the street.
And no one would even care, not even his mother, Mary.
Eleven
Joe and Mary
The last image she had of Joe was when she peered outside their second floor apartment to watch Joe work. There was a mountain of black bags in front of their apartment building. She hid behind the blue curtains of her bedroom, just to watch him. That dat, Joe looked so content. The night before, they had gotten into a small fight.
Off the truck and on the truck, Joe went on his route.
The thing she remembered most about Joe was that he always carried a smile on his face. He was a happy man while everything around him smelled like shit. But, that was Joe's way. He made the best out of any situation.
One time, Mary got into a fight with him, like how married people sometimes do. She wanted to hurt him that night. So, she asked him out of the blue, "How can you be so fucking content doing that kind of wo
rk? Picking up after people's shit. Don't you want to do something more for yourself, Joe? Don't you want something more for us?" Mary challenged him because she was frustrated with him for some reason. She didn't remember why anymore. It wasn't important.
Joe looked at her with a subtle look of disappoint. Then, he quickly replaced it with a smile that eclipsed the negative feelings in the room. He replied, "No baby. That's not how I look at it. Not at all...cause one day. I'm going to buy you the nicest house that you've ever seen. It'll have one of those wrap around porches that you always wanted and a big backyard, the size of a private park. It doesn't matter how I get there, to our house, as long as I do. And that's all that I think about. I don't think about the trash. Every bag of trash is like one brick I need to build our house. That's all that matters to me. I want you and the kids to have a good home, if anything should happen to me. That's all that a good husband can do. And one day you'll own a house free and clear. That's all I want. That's all I've ever wanted for you."
Mary missed Joe a lot. He had a good heart, the best that she'd ever known in this world. Ever since Joe died a year ago today, Mary could not get him out of her head.
There was a hole in her stomach. And in that darkness there was a question lingering about Joe's death that was never quite answered. The doctors never explained to her how he died. They said it was a virus that he must have picked up along the way, somewhere, from someone. They didn't even have a name for what he had.
Mary received a call from Joe's boss and got the name of the hospital where he was being held. She hurried over and wasn't even allowed to touch him. He was in a coma and the doctors were running all sorts of test on his body. She looked at him from the opposite side of an observation window, waiting for him to open his eyes, waiting for his smile to light up the room. She begged God to bring him back to her. But, he looked different now. His face was bone white and his hair was now grey. He looked as if he were getting older, before her eyes.
Purge of the Vampires (Book 2): The Dead Never Die Page 6