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

by Bajaña, Edgar

  In the end, the long walk to home was manageable. Sure, he was home later than usual. But, he was home before nightfall because he planned it that way. He planned ahead in case some one stole his bike.

  He didn't have his bike. But, he had a gold watch, a fake one. But it was one of the few things that he could rely on.

  12

  The Night Is Coming

  Before reaching the rear door of his building, Geronimo passed by his neighbor's apartment who had a wall made of glass brick facing the alley. Inside the apartment, there lived a poet named David, a poet who usually wrote his poems at night sitting at an old drafting table. It was the same place where David and his family gathered to eat their meals together, like a real family. Geronimo looked longingly at those times as he passed by their window.

  The wall was made of glass brick that exposed a full view of his neighbor's kitchen to anyone who walked through the alley. The glass brick distorted everything that was inside the home. It made his neighbor's kitchen look wavy, indistinct and surreal.

  One time, Geronimo walked through the alley, after dark. It was safe back then to walk at night. The electricity had gone out in the area and the streets were dark.

  Geronimo saw David writing at the his kitchen table by candlelight. But Geronimo saw only the impression of things. That night, he watched David work away into the night. The scene felt like an oil painting that he had once seen with his class at the Museum of Contemporary Art. It was quiet and serene. But, it was filled with all of David's words, with all the words the night could hold.

  Even in the dream, there was one question that always tugged at the back of his neck. What did we do to make the night hate us? What did we do to turn the night into an abyss, where anyone disappeared. Why had the night betrayed us? Why had the night become the terror in everyone's lives?

  He knew that all these questions led to one.

  What was the night?

  Geronimo always felt that if he could find the answer to this one question, he would be one step closer to ridding his heart of fear. And there was even a small part of him that thought he could change things for the better.

  Since the world was turned upside down, all he wanted to do was understand the night.

  Every time, he passed by David's apartment, Geronimo looked through the glass wall. Everyone did. They all took a sneak peek to see what was going on. Looking through the glass wall was like looking into a dollhouse where all exterior walls were taken away, exposing what was hidden. In David's case, it was his white kitchen. Just behind the kitchen, there was a small gallery of art that contained carved wooden statues and framed art prints.

  When Geronimo passed by, he was curious to see what was going on in David's apartment.

  But, the day was coming to an end and he knew that he should get inside before nightfall.

  So, he took out his keys out of his pocket and decided to go for the back door of the building as fast as possible and not be distracted by anything else. He hoped that his mother would be home, when he got there.

  But, he could not keep himself from looking inside David's apartment. There was a part of him that hoped to see David, his wife and daughter eating at the table, like a family.

  Geronimo looked at a the sky and the alley was dark. The night was almost here.

  The green door to the building was right there. But, he could not go over to it, not yet.

  Geronimo could not help himself. He slowed his pace because he had to take a look through the dream-like glass, once again.

  With his keys in his hand, he looked through the glass wall that glowed with a pale yellow light. There was hardly any color. He looked through the glass and saw all the shapes that it created. Everything inside his neighbor's apartment was curved and melting together. There was only a little bit of light inside from a lamp burning in the corner of the kitchen.

  At first, the place looked empty. There was a glow of light spilling unto the white kitchen countertops where David usually prepared his daily cup of coffee.

  But, the kitchen was not empty, not at all.

  At first, Geronimo did not notice David lurking in the shadows. The poet stood in the art gallery, just beyond the kitchen. His wife was a printmaker and a few of her works hung in the dark. He stood there motionless in the gallery, looking out into the alley. He hung there, like a specter haunting his own house.

  Geronimo didn't notice David, until he moved out of the shadow of the art gallery and took one step into the kitchen. The soft pale light struck the right side of his ear and that was all. The rest of him was covered in shadow.

  That was enough to catch Geronimo's attention. He could tell that David watched him.

  Geronimo noticed David and waved at him with his keys in his hand. Geronimo smiled at him and thought about knocking on his door for some food, before heading upstairs to his own apartment. David was a good friend. In the past, he invited Geronimo over for dinner, more than a handful of meals.

  Geronimo hesitated because something felt odd about David who stood in the shadows, between the kitchen and the gallery. The poet stood there frozen in place, as if he were in a trance. David looked different, older. He had dark rings around his eyes, saggy cheeks and a thick beard. His once brown skin now looked pale, even bloodless. David's beard was white and his eyes disappeared into their sockets. But, that did not stop him from feeling David's cold stare. He could feel David's eyes following him with every step he took.

  Geronimo looked away and down the alley. The sun was dead in the west and the alley was dark and cold.

  Geronimo turned to David again who lifted his arm to point at something. He could see David's mouth moving. But, Geronimo could not hear him through the thick glass. Geronimo stopped walking to take a close at him and try to figure out what he was saying. So he leaned in closer to the cold glass and listened what was on the other side.

  "The night is coming."

  David said those words as he pointed to where the sun fell. Through the glass, David's voice sounded like a mouth full of marbles. Geronimo listened again.

  "The night is here."

  At that moment, a bright white light struck the side of Geronimo's face. He around turned to see what approached his way.

  13

  The Night Took All That He Knew

  Geronimo saw a pair of bright headlights speeding down the alley heading in his direction. He heard the sound of an engine roaring through the night. He heard a woman laughing who resembled his mother's voice.

  Geronimo recognized the truck speeding down the alley. The rusted Bronco truck belonged to one of his neighbors. It was not too far, only a couple houses away. At first, Geronimo thought it was just some reckless teenagers taking a joy ride. He hoped that the truck would pass by without causing him any trouble.

  But it did not.

  The truck was headed straight for him. Geronimo's legs locked in place and he could not move. Then, the truck hit the speed bump and it jumped up in the air, like a remote controlled model car. It was going to run him down and there was no place for Geronimo to run.

  Geronimo's eyes widened and his heart jumped into his throat, causing him to stop breathing. As the bright headlights shined on his face, he went cold with fright. He knew that this was the end of him.

  No matter how much he tried to remember the warmth from his blanket, he forgot about David. He forgot about his mother. He forgot about all the things that he cared about in this world.

  It was funny how he never dreamed about his brother, not after what happened in Chicago.

  In the instance between life and death, Geronimo felt something else. He felt something different from the last dream. Yes. He was scared. But underneath the fear, there was something else, something peaceful. There was a sense of relief in the fact that he was going to die. It was comforting and warm.

  As the black truck was about to run Geronimo down, he closed his eyes.

  The headlights of the truck were strong. Even wit
h his eyelids closed, he saw a bright light shining through the flesh of his eyelids. The light was a reddish orange and warm. The light kept getting brighter, until everything went dead, black and cold.

  The dream ended.

  The cold hand of night had sucked all the warmth from all the fibers of his blanket Geronimo was back in the real world, a world, turned upside down. The small sense of peace that he had just felt in his heart had slipped away. It felt like water flowing away down a drain.

  Once again, the night had taken all that he knew.

  When Geronimo woke up, he was in a forest, scared and alone. He wondered where his two friends were. Then, he noticed the daylight lessening. Geronimo needed to find shelter before the night came to took him away.

  14

  America Limped Along in Pockets, Here And There

  WHEN GERONIMO WOKE UP, HE SHOT HIS HEAD INTO THE AIR. HE LOOKED AROUND THE FOREST AND FOUND THAT EVERYTHING AT THE CAMPSITE WAS A MES AND THAT HE COUPLE THAT HE TRAVELED WITH WERE GONE. He looked at his watch and it was also gone. But, he looked up at the sky through the black trees and was relieved to find that it was still light.

  It felt like morning. But, he knew that the afternoon was gone and the night was coming.

  Geronimo took off his cap and ran his fingers through his long curly hair. He scratched his forehead wondering what had happened to Mark and Justine. They were in their early thirties and hiked with him to Canada.

  Like Geronimo, Mark and Justine figured out that the cities were not the safest place to be because there were too many people, scavenging and fighting for things that no longer existed. Besides, the cities were covered in concrete, making it difficult to grow anything that they could eat.

  For now they were all better off moving from place to place, until they found a place where they belonged.

  On the road, Geronimo tried to convince Mark and Justine to join him on his journey to Canada. After a couple of miles of walking, they were interested in going with him to Canada. Geronimo thought about how they didn't need much convincing. They were the kind of people that went the flow. Along the way, he figured out that they were looking for the same thing that he was. They were all looking for a way to stop living in fear of the night. They were all trying to make sense of this world, a world that they were now trying to survive.

  But now, they were gone. Geronimo rubbed his wrist, where his watch used to be. Damn. It was a fake gold watch, but it was reliable.

  Something must have happened to them while he was asleep or else they would have still been here. Maybe, they just changed their minds about Canada and or maybe they just changed their mind about him. people had left him before and he learned not to care about such things. He thanked his mother for that. But, he still felt something for them because they were good people, especially Justine.

  Her hair was just as curly as his and her emerald eyes and red hair looked sweet.

  Geronimo looked around the campsite and a part of him knew that he had made a mistake by listening to them. He thought about his missing watch and wondered what else they took. Did they take his map and his binoculars too? He wondered how they slipped his watch off his wrist without waking him.

  Mark and Justine seemed so honest. It never crossed his mind that they were like the others, thieves who preyed on who ever they met on the open road. He fell for it again.

  To feel better about his situation, he had to understand that whatever happened to him was his fault. He made the wrong choice. He and he alone was responsible for his situation. He could not blame them for letting his guard down. He knew that he should have never gotten off of Route 69 to eat and rest under the canopy of trees, like Mark and Justine wanted. It sounded like such a good idea. But, he should have been smarter. He should have taken that as a cue and split off from them and kept going down the road.

  But, Mark and Justine convinced him, otherwise. They told him not to worry because it was the middle of the day and they had more than enough time to make it to the next rest stop. Besides, they had some dope and he had never had tried it. So he said, what the hell. The detour would only take two hours and the next rest stop was only an hour away. That was more than enough time to make it to shelter before the night came.

  "Geronimo, the next rest stop is right over that curve in the road," said Mark. "…past that forest. It's not that far away."

  Around noon time, Geronimo looked at the tattered map in his hands and double-checked. Mark was right. The next rest stop wasn't too far. The government, or what remained of it, guarded these rest stops and shelters along the way to help travelers just like them. The only stipulation was that they could stay at the shelter for only one night and that was all. The following day, they would have to be out of the shelter and on their way. The guards at the rest stop had to make sure that there was room for anyone new that came down the road. No one could stay at these roadside shelters for more than a night. The guards had to make sure that no on made any of these shelters into a permanent home. Some did and those people were dealt with by the guards.

  Geronimo remembered how Mark kept trying to convince him to relax and to enjoy what little left, there was of the world.

  "Come on Geronimo. Besides, there isn't anybody else around for miles. So no one will bother us. We'll be back on the road, way before the night comes. There's no reason to worry, Geronimo. We wouldn't let anything happen to you."

  Geronimo looked at Mark, without saying a word.

  Do you understand that, Geronimo?"

  "Sure I understand, Mark."

  Geronimo lied and smiled.

  Geronimo looked at his watch and it was noon. They should make it to the next rest stop by 4:30, the latest. That was more than enough time because at 6:30 pm the sun fell. As long as they were inside by sunset, they were safe. Everyone understood that it was the light of day that held back the terror of the night. That was a principle that everyone followed. No one wanted to be outside when the night came. Just the thought of it scared everyone, all to hell.

  15

  The Sirens Screeched Across The Sky

  It was sometime after 5 pm, when Geronimo woke up at the empty campsite and Mark and Justine were gone.

  Geronimo felt exhausted and groggy after his deep sleep. He should have felt rested and ready to go, when he woke. But, he didn't. The drugs didn't make him feel as good as he thought they would. However, he had fun siting around the fire, smoking and eating, with them. But, they forgot to tell him about the bad part, the part when the body needed time to get its wits together. The drugs made his body feel like molasses and his mind felt as if it were hovering around his own body. He woke up in a daze. He woke up vulnerable.

  As Geronimo looked around the campsite for his things, he thought about the dream he just had. He remembered dreaming about his old life in Chicago. Those times were the good. He remembered having a place to stay that was safe and warm. And that was all he needed back then.

  Now, things were so different.

  Now, Geronimo was always on the run, running from one place to another, avoiding the night as best as he could. Everyone did. By now, he had run so far away from Chicago that his past life seemed like a dream. He no longer looked the same. His hair was long underneath his woven cap and his body was thin.

  For the last month, Geronimo had been traveling northeast to Canada. He heard that a community somewhere in the suburbs of Toronto that could help him understand the night. So, he started his journey to find out why the night persecuted man. From what he gathered from different wanders along the way, a group of survivors took over a mall. Out of that place, they broadcasted a message on the last strands of the Internet, before everything went black.

  This rag tag community was held up in a mall and they said that they knew what the night was. Hearing this message had planted a kernel of hope in his heart.

  As the rumor went, an astronaut, who called himself Moonwalker, circled the earth. He had made contact through a laser he pointed at
the earth and hoped that some one would receive his message. Then, he pointed a telescope at the earth and saw the night from space. Moonwalker magnified the pictures that he collected in his lab and he could see what the night contained.

  The astronaut had made contact with the mall for only a short while.

  From this brief communication, the community learned what needed to be done. Geronimo learned that they started to teach people how to protect themselves against the night. And they would teach anyone who came to them. Then, the Internet collapsed. And that was all. Most people, who he met along the way, called the message fluke, even worse, a trap.

  Mark and Justine had heard the same story. But, they didn't believe it, not until they met Geronimo on the road. It was because of Geronimo that the couple headed to Canada to see if the rumors where true. They were going in that direction anyway. For Geronimo, he wanted to know, what evil thing lived in the deep recesses of the night. He wanted to understand the night because he did not want to live in fear, not anymore. He wanted to know what it was that blacked out the moon and stars and sounded like a storm of hail, pounding away at the land.

  During many nights, Geronimo had slipped into whatever shelter he could find. Usually, he found along the way an abandoned house or a empty store. He liked being on the road because was quieter out here.

  When he lived in Chicago, the night had claimed the land. An hour before sunset, the air sirens screeched throughout the evening sky. The sirens warned everyone to get inside their homes and lock their doors. After sunset, he always heard the terrifying screams echoing in the streets. Usually the screams came from someone who had been stranded out in the middle of the night. Then, the screams would be overpowered by something more awful. The wind started howling. Before he knew it, a torrential storm pounded the land. Whatever it was, it felt like stones falling sideways from the sky. No one knew what happened outside because no one ventured into the night. Anyone who did, never came back.