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

by Bajaña, Edgar

  "Well, what does he want?"

  "You took away his daughter and now he wants your eyes."

  The warden stuck James with the electrified baton and James fell on the wooden planks like a bag of rocks. His muscle contracted and he arms were by his side, unable to move an inch.

  "Is that all?" James mumbled.

  "What was that James?"

  "He can have them."

  "Thanks James. I thought so."

  The warden pulled out a scalpel and its sharp edge gleamed with the bright morning sun. He held James face down with his large hand. The other inmates noticed the commotion and turned to look at the edge of the pier.

  "Get back to work!" Jesse barked.

  Jesse looked at he end of the pier and saw the warden kneeling over James.

  "This is only going to take a short time James. This will be over soon, enough."

  James wanted to scream. But, he could not because his jaw was clenched tight from the sting of the baton.

  The warden brought the razor sharp point of the scalpel to James eyes that were wide open with terror. Then, the warden did what his friend told him not to do. Warden looked into James and paralyzed by what he saw.

  They were eyes made of clouds.

  In that moment, the warden fell where he knelt and he had died right there. Jesse saw this from a distance and started to run over to the end of the pier with his shotgun in hand. The sound of his boots echoed over the calm and dark water. Jesse pointed his barrels on James chest.

  James sat up and with arm over his eyes. He screamed at Jesse. "Don't don't look at me!"

  Jesse kept the barrel on him. "What did you do to him?"

  "He's gone."

  "What did you do? tell me!"

  "He passed away. That's all."

  "How?"

  "He saw himself in my eyes. That's all."

  "Tell me what happened, James. Or I'm going to put a big hole in your chest. What the hell are you?"

  "He saw himself in my eyes."

  "And."

  Jesse struck James in the side of his head with the butt of shotgun.

  "He saw himself at dinner with his family, when the night came for them."

  "Your not making any sense."

  "I am but your not listening. I'm telling you what happened."

  "Okay. Go on."

  "When he looked into my eyes, he saw himself at dinner with his family. He lived on the same block that you live on. Shit. your children even play together."

  "Who do you know that?"

  "The night had come without anyone expecting anything. He heard a storm brewing outside and he closed the windows to his house. He sat down with his family when the night came. There was a darkness that enveloped his house and he could no longer see the stars of the moon. From behind the window, he saw the sky disappear. He told his family to stay put, while he when to go check what was outside."

  "Bull.."

  "No. For real. There was string wind, as he walked to middle of the street. he heard a subtle rumble in the sky. He though that it was a storm. That's all. Then, he felt. He felt something wicked crawling over his body. The wind picked up and the shook the parked cars on the street. his family watched from behind the window that he just closed. That night, they watched him disappear of the pavement, as if he never existed. He was gone, taken by the night."

  "What does that have to do with now!"

  "He saw himself die. So he's dead now. Don't you get it."

  "What the hell are you? I should just shoot you right here."

  "But, you are not going to."

  "Why."

  "Remember when we used to throw coins at each other."

  "So."

  "There's a reason why I'm here. I have to find the girl. That's all."

  "What girl?"

  "The girl that's on that truck."

  Today, James was working with the other prisoners from Riker's Island. They all stepped off the bus in an orderly fashion, wearing orange jumpsuits. They walked onto the pier, creating a chain where one inmate could hand a series of black bags to another. Inside the plastic bags were the remains of the dead. The prisoners carried the bags from hand to hand. They carried body parts that no one claimed.

  The remains of the meat grinder, thought James, as he saw a pile of black bags sitting on the back of the truck. The city was sometimes a monsterous machine, indeed.

  The task was simple. The black bags and wooden boxed were pulled off a semi and loaded unto a ferry sitting along the pier. James balanced himself between the edge of the pier and the boat. He straddled between land and water, waiting for the first bag to come down the line. The plastic black bags were headed to Hart Island, New York, a century old floating mass grave yard. To the island, the bags go across the water, unclaimed and unknown.

  For a brief moment, the prisoners of Rikers Island were given a chance to prove themselves. It were more than a chance under the sun. They were given a chance to treat the dead with the respect that they deserve. Or they could forget them like everyone else. Most tried to honor the dead with a bit of respect. Not at first though. It wasn't until James got there, that they did. Even the guards waited for James to touch a bag.

  The prisoners handled the dead with care, hoping that some stranger would do the same for them. Every time, James passed a bag along along, he got an image in his head, maybe a ghastly one or maybe a whisper from the dead. But he saw something not of this world. Whatever it was, he was not drawn to their story. This whole month, he was looking for someone he once knew.

  As he worked the whole day, James did not wear his sunglasses. Instead, he proudly exposed his eyes to everyone. He didn't care that his eyes were different from everyone else. He didn't care that his eyes were pale white, colorless and pupil-less. His eyes were as white as milk. It was unreal. The whole time out there, the prisoners couldn't help but notice how strange James looked.

  But, James didn't care.

  Not until, the 47th bag. It was the 47th black bag that got James Night's attention. It was in the 47th bag where he was reunited with someone, he once knew. He saw her as clears the night when he grabbed the plastic bag.

  He saw her. Violet.

  Violet was a flower, a beautiful color with a gentle sway.

  When he touched the black bag that was handed to him. He swung it over to the next guy. But, he couldn't let go. He held on to the black bag, stopping all movement on the line. The prisoners were at a stand still. But they did not complain. They respected whatever James felt the need to do. Even the guard, stood there and watched James look closer at the bag.

  The prisoner next to him asked, "What is it James. Tell us."

  When James touched the bag, a shock bolted through his nervous system. In that moment, he knew that he held the bag with her remains and he saw her. He saw Violet.

  "Tell me. What did you see?" asked Officer Jesse G.

  James Night looked up at him and only said one word, "Violet."

  James had never met her. But, he knew of her. He knew that Violet was more than a girl, a woman. She was a time when he didn't know who he was.

  The first thing she said to me was that she could not stop.

  his eyes at the smaller inmate, also sprawled on the ground. He lifted his head and opened his eyes. They were as white as a cursed blind man. It startled Jesse at first.

  As the other guards walked the big inmate over to the infirmary, Jesse went over to the other inmate and asked him, "What's you're name?"

  "James."

  "James, what?"

  "James Night."

  "Come on freak," Jesse called.

  He dragged him out of the line, as soon as he was processed. Jesse called James a freak, on account of his eyes, which weren't like anyone else's.

  "Come on James. Lets go. This is what you wanted. Right?"

  James stayed quiet. His face was sunburned from the sun. Officer Guerrero waited for James to say something, anything. But, he didn't. He never spoke
to anyone inside the jail.

  JAMES STARED AT THE DEAD BODIES SITTING ON THE PIER, THEN HE SAW THE OPERATOR OF BARGE STILL STANDING. The driver of the barge was an old Arab man wearing dark overalls. He was today's driver.

  Some time ago, Jesse met this Arab man while have a drink at on of the local Ficha Bars on Roosevelt Avenue. They spoke to each other like old friends.

  He waved at James and held a pair of keys in his hand. They were the keys to the barge. Then, the man dropped the key ring on the pier and walked away from everything that happened there on that day.

  James stood at the pier staring at the sun. It looked as if it were obscured by frosted glass. We had lost the sun. There was a time when our lives were ruled by that great fire in the sky. But soon we lost track of it and followed a different sun, the one that led us down this road.

  James smiled, "But who cares bout that? Right?"

  That part didn't matter to him anymore. The only thing that he cared about was the girl. He had still not called her by her name. Not yet. There were a better place for that.

  Out there, he would take her out on the barge to hart Island. He would go with her to the island of the dead, a place where the remains of the unclaimed finally rested. Now, they were no longer lost.

  It was the place where Violet and him would rest. After the She was nothing but a shadow to me, to help me find something out. Only she could.

  And he had found her.

  At first, he prepared the boat without saying much more to her. In return, she followed him throughout the boat.

  "James, you have to tell what I'm doing here."

  James untied the rope from the pier and saw Violet standing at edge, looking at the land, one last time. He throw the rope unto the pier, no longer attached to either boat or pier. A part of the rope dangled from edge of the pier and dragged the rest of the rope into the dark waters.

  James stepped in the cab of the barge and she was there.

  "Who you are."

  He operated the boat himself, with the shotgun by his side.

  On the way to the island, the wind pulled on James black hair. The mound of black plastic bags crackled with the whip of the wind. Behind James, the pier grew smaller and he did not look back.

  Up ahead, the island of the dead grew larger and James could not look away. He was close to the end, now. The ferry was filled to the brim with bags and wooden boxes filled with unidentified body parts. The inmates sat where ever there was space available.

  However, there was one bag that had not gone unnoticed. James had identified, one that he knew. Her name was Violet and a part of her was inside the black bag resting by his feet. No matter how crazy the situation was, he stood there knowing who he was and what he must do.

  By the afternoon, all the bodies were thrown into the mass grave and everyone waited for James to bring the last bag.

  James held Violet in his arms. He wrote her name on the black plastic bag in a silver marker. VIOLET. He made the sign of the cross with his fore fingers and he threw the bag on the mound of dead bodies and started his way out of the mass burial pit. The sun had disappeared and a rain came down. His work boots were covered in wet dirt.

  He was headed back to ferry, when he heard some call his name.

  "Hey, I've waiting to talk to you for a long time. You can't leave."

  James stopped walking and turned around. He saw someone standing on the other side of the pit. It was a woman. It was Grace.

  Grace was a half black- half white girl. Her skin glowed and her hair was long.

  "I want to show you something."

  "What?"

  "Are you fearful?"

  "No."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes."

  "Then let me show you something James."

  James looked at her and could just tell that the darkness trying gain ground inside her.

  "Come here James, set your eyes upon the pit again and face your fear."

  James approached the pit. And the pit was now different. The bodies were now moving and it was disgusting. James wanted to look away, but Grace yelled at him. "Don't turn away! Don't be coward."

  James kept his eyes on the pit and the were people moving in the pit and covered in black soil. There were burst of color, when some eat someone else.

  "Soon the entire pit will turn red." James looked up at Grace and tried not to believe what she said.

  "And what am I suppose to do?" James yelled back.

  Grace graced his cheek and easily spoke to him, as the wind and rain picked up.

  "Your not ready, James. I hope you know that we're here to help you when eternal night descends upon us?"

  "I do."

  "Even them, down there. They're here to help you too. Even those gluttonous cannibals trapped in that pit are hear to help you. They are living like animals, there is a chaos and they are constantly trying to kill each other."

  "How?"

  "Jump in."

  James heard her answer and he remained frozen, only staring at Grace.

  On the way to the island, the wind pulled on James black hair. The mound of black plastic bags crackled with the whip of the wind. Behind James, the pier grew smaller and he did not look back. Up ahead, the island of the dead grew larger and James could not look away.

  He was close to the end, now. The ferry was filled to the brim with bags and wooden boxes filled with unidentified body parts. The inmates sat where ever there was space available.

  Violet looked at James feet and noticed that he was barefoot. His feet were covered in blood. She noticed the shot gun by his feet. She wondered why he carried it. There was no one out there that could harm him. It was just her and him, together

  "Why do you have a gun, James."

  When James heard her voice, he did not really hear her. He heard the voice of some one else. He heard the sweet angle that followed him through time.

  "I don't know."

  "What are you going to do with that gun, James?"

  James did not want to say anything more to her. For now, she was a nice girl that he met on the pier. However, he knew that he would have to tell something.

  As James steered the barge, he looked at her staring out the window. They were about to submerge into the cloud.

  He thought that, sooner or later, he would have to tell her the truth. The same truth he saw, when he found her. Her story replayed in his mind, as he carried her body from the truck to the barge.

  She had the right to know what happened to her, even if she was dead.

  But, he wouldn't saying, at least not now. Instead, he wanted to make peace with everything with everything around him. So, he relaxed in the cab of the barge with Violet looking in the fog.

  James drove into the fog and he thought about how his life was finally going to be rewrite.

  The barge headed to Hart Island, the island of the dead, through a thick fog. After a couple of minutes, they were gone. In that moment, James heard his angel's voice again.

  "Who's in that body bag, James? Who?"

  And that's when he told them the story of how he was going to die.

  READ BOOK 2

  Part II

  7

  When Sirens Sound

  THE AIR RAID SIRENS ECHOED THROUGH THE BLUE COLLAR STREETS OF CHICAGO, WARNING ALL WITHIN REACH THAT THE NIGHT WAS COMING. IT WARNED EVERYONE TO GET INSIDE.

  FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY, PLEASE EVACUATE THE STREETS, said the siren. The voice of the siren was female and compassionate, almost pleading to be heard.

  In all, there were 112 sirens located throughout the city, within the public parks and on the roof of government buildings. Together, they ensured citywide coverage.

  CURFEW HOURS ARE BETWEEN SUNSET AND SUNRISE.

  The emergency warning system was set in place several decades earlier. It was an old communication system that was set in place, after the internet and cell phone service died.

  It was a system that was once ready to foretell the coming
of a deadly tornado ripping through the midwestern plain. It was once ready to warn the people of Chicago of radioactive fallout coming with the wind.

  But, not anymore. Tonight the sirens warned of the night.

  TODAY THE SUN SETS AT 4:35

  Instead, the sirens now warned the people of Chicago that the night was coming in the east, over the Great Lake.

  Once the sirens sounded, everyone was suppose to go into their homes and lock their doors and windows.

  As per a City Council Resolution, the public was ordered to stay inside, till morning, until day break.

  THE TEMPERATURE IS 55 DEGREES

  It was unusually warm that day in December in Chicago.

  Every evening and every morning, the sirens went off announcing the coming of night.

  After the sunset no one stepped into the night because everyone understood that you might not comeback.

  PLEASE REMEMBER TO STAY INDOORS WITH YOUR LOVED ONES, UNTIL DAY LIGHT.

  Geronimo stood on the corner of Western and Milwaukee Avenue. It was unusually hot that day. The intersection was in the shape on an inverted star.

  The light of the golden hour illuminated his brown face and curly black hair. He wore a blue backpack over his puffy black coat and a pair of black knit gloves. He stood on the street corner with his brother, Joseph.

  REMEMBER THE SUN SETS AT 4:35 TODAY

  Joseph had been living on the streets for about a month. During that time, he was homeless and lived in a shelter in Evanston. He wore a dirty t-shirt under a thin black hooded sweater. And that was all. It seemed like the clothes on his back was not enough to keep him warm this winter. But, he was lucky that the day was unusually warm. It was December and it should have been in the 20's or 30's.

  Joseph didn't say anything about the weather.

  Geronimo looked back at his brother Joseph. He saw him pic through the garbage can in front of McDonalds. Joseph pulled out a white paper bag and looked through it. He searched for food.

  Geronimo took a long look at him and wondered, if he could survive out here with his brother, in this new world. He wondered what would become of him.

  For most if their lives, they fought each other. They saw the world differently. The only thing they shared was their light brown complexion.