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

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Purge of the Vampires (Book 3): The Night Never Ends Page 10

by Bajaña, Edgar


  She did not answer him.

  "Mom, let me back in!"

  She remained quiet, hoping that the night would take him away.

  That was the last time he saw her.

  At the campsite, the dying fire flickered against Geronimo's face and he continued speaking "Mark? Justine? Haven't you met anyone like that? Like some one that you've know for a long time, acts different?"

  "How can people feel right in this world, if the world that we have known is gone, Geronimo? People are bound to go nuts in a place like this."

  "I told you Mark. I'm not talking about crazy people. No. Not that. I've met some crazy people along the way. Believe me. I know how to spot them."

  "So what do you mean?"

  "I mean like people that don't act themselves."

  "Like what?"

  "I mean they act totally different, as if someone else were telling them what to do, like something outside of them. It like some one or something evil were whispering in their ear."

  "How many times have you seen something like that, Geronimo?"

  "Twice. One in Chicago and another in Indiana."

  "Like who?"

  But, Geronimo didn't want to talk about his mother.

  "Just answer my question. Have you, Mark?"

  Justine jumped in, "No. We haven't met anyone like that Geronimo. I guess, not yet."

  "What's wrong, Geronimo? Do you think that we're going to turn on you, or something? One moment, we're nice to you. The next moment, we're going to flip out and try to kill you?"

  "Mark," Justine interjected. "don't say that."

  "No. Not you guys. I mean people who have a bad streak in them."

  "Don't worry about us Geronimo. You're safe with us. We're the good guys."

  "I know. Sorry. I do know why I started thinking about that. But, I just had to ask."

  "Not a problem." said Mark. "I just think you've just been holding on to that joint for too long."

  "Damn." Geronimo laughed and passed the roach back to Mark.

  20

  The Land Carried Our Bodies, But Culture Lifts Our Souls

  Mark took the last hit and asked Geronimo another question to change the subject. "Do you like movies Geronimo?"

  "Sure?"

  Then, Mark told Geronimo about what he loved to do before everything went to hell. When Mark wasn't operating video and audio equipment at the aquarium, he loved cinematography and he liked shooting documentaries. Mark shot two films before the world went to hell. One was called "The Boot Machine." He shot the film in Poland.

  For one year, Mark lived in Poland with a boot maker and the boot maker's family, recording their lives on video. He wasn't just a boot maker, either. He was also a drummer for a punk band, who liked to drink a lot. Mark had a lot of fun hanging out with the bookmaker and his family.

  "Is that when you met Justine ? Asked Geronimo.

  "Yeah."

  Geronimo wanted Mark to talk about how he met Justine. He enjoyed hearing those kind of stories the most. But, Mark wasn't interested in talking about that.

  "What about the other film?" Justine asked. She liked hearing Mark talk about his films. She liked how he spoke about it.

  "The other film was called A Spark of Improve. It was about the roots of comedy improv in Chicago."

  "Improv?" Geronimo asked.

  "Yeah. Like Steve Martin and Jim Belushi."

  "Who?"

  "Like Tina Fey…

  "Huh?"

  "What about 30 Rock? Have you seen 30 Rock? SNL."

  "I don't think so."

  "Ha!" Justine laughed at Mark.

  Mark gave Justine a quick smirk and continued. He had a blinding passion for his work.

  As Geronimo listened, he noticed how much Mark liked using his hands when he spoke about about improv and how important it was to remember that part of our culture, even now. He believed that it was our job as human beings to keep that part of our culture alive. It was important, so that the past doesn't wilt and die. He believed that the best things about humans deserved to live.

  "But, it's the culture that carry our spirits through this world."

  Geronimo noticed more than Mark's passion for art. He noticed Mark need to hold on to past, to hold on to a time when things were normal.

  For twenty minutes, they had a good time, sitting around the fire. And Geronimo forgot about the world and the troubles that it contained. He forgot about the night.

  Then, Geronimo became hungry and needed to eat. He remembered eating a can of beans and placing his blue backpack underneath his head. He checked his watch and decided that there was enough time to take a small nap.

  Mark and Justine promised to wake him.

  Regardless, the alarm was set on his watch. He didn't need them to wake up.

  Then, Geronimo fell into a deep sleep and slipped into a warm dream.

  A couple of hours later, Geronimo was now awake and without a watch. He wondered if Mark or Justine stole anything else from him.

  He remembered that the plan was to stay at the campsite for two hours. Then, they would head east on route 69 to the nearest rest stop. They would stay overnight and continue east.

  The rest stop is only an hour away, Geronimo remembered Mark saying. It's right over the bend in the highway…past the forest. Geronimo stood up and grabbed his backpack that he used as a pillow. He looked through his bag and his map and binoculars were safe.

  But, his gold watch was gone. Damn.

  As Geronimo sat alone in the forest, he felt more alone then cheated. The trees seemed darker. By now, the fire pit was charred black and long extinguished. Several cans of food sat in the dirt. There was one can of beans and the other was a can of fruit. The lids were cracked open. His was empty. But theirs weren't.

  Geronimo picked up the can of beans that Mark was suppose to eat. A plastic spoon stuck out and he noticed that it been barely consumed. It was the same for the fruit salad. He remembered living on this kind of stuff for weeks, back in Chicago.

  Then, he noticed something behind a tree. Mark and Justine's backpacks were still sitting on the ground and several questions popped into his head.

  Why did they not take their backpacks?

  This meant that they would come back for their stuff. It also meant that they would come back for him.

  And he felt a little better.

  But where did they go? It was noon when they first made camp here. And they were supposed to leave by 2 pm.

  Geronimo looked in every direction of the forest and saw pale pillars of light breaking through. He was happy to know that there was still daylight, but fading.

  Geronimo decided to try and make contact.

  "Mark! Justine!"

  Geronimo's voice echoed underneath the canopy of dark trees. He looked into the forest and saw nothing. Nothing caught his attention.

  "Mark! Justine!"

  But, there was no response, only the buzzing of crickets. He could no longer wait for them. The light was receding and he had to go.

  "Mark! Justine!" He tried a final time.

  Staring deep into the forest, he waited to hear their voices. He hoped that one of them would call his name. But, there was only silence.

  Then, he heard something else, something that sounded like a twig breaking in half. He looked into the forest again and everything appeared still and calm, except for the swaying branches above, where a gust of wind whistled through the forest.

  For a moment, he wondered why Mark and Justine left him.

  But, he could not dwell on the feeling.

  He felt this same way before and he knew what to do. He slid his hand into his back pocket and took out the drawing of the cat that his mother had made for him. He read the word written next to the drawing. She had wrote it one day without him knowing.

  FEAR THE NIGHT AND SURVIVE. It read.

  He smiled and felt nothing for Mark and Justine. He did not care about their things.

  Geronimo was ready to
leave.

  He could no longer wait for them to return to camp. He would be cutting it too close.

  He gathered his things. There was a pair of binoculars, a map, and bottled water. He shoved them into his blue backpack. He left Mark and Justine's backpack and supplies exactly were they were, behind the tree where he found them. He looked at Justine's bag and thought about her children's book and how much he liked her idea. He thought about taking it. But, he left that too.

  He left a note, when he heard the sound of another twig breaking in the distance. It sounded if someone had stepped on a branch. Geronimo looked into the forest again.

  "Mark? Justine. I'm going to the rest stop. I'll meet you guys there. I have to go."

  He waited to hear something back. But there was only dead silence. The longer he looked at forest, the darker it became.

  Geronimo turned around to walk back to the road. He walked over dead branches and dry leaves. He arrived at a place where the forest butted up against a field of dead corn.

  21

  Fear The Night And Survive

  A couple of hours later, Geronimo was now awake and without a watch. He wondered if Mark or Justine stole anything else from him.

  He remembered that the plan was to stay at the campsite for two hours. Then, they would head east on route 69 to the nearest rest stop. They would stay overnight and continue east.

  The rest stop is only an hour away, Geronimo remembered Mark saying. It's right over the bend in the highway…past the forest. Geronimo stood up and grabbed his backpack that he used as a pillow. He looked through his bag and his map and binoculars were safe.

  But, his gold watch was gone. Damn.

  As Geronimo sat alone in the forest, he felt more alone then cheated. The trees seemed darker. By now, the fire pit was charred black and long extinguished. Several cans of food sat in the dirt. There was one can of beans and the other was a can of fruit. The lids were cracked open. His was empty. But theirs weren't.

  Geronimo picked up the can of beans that Mark was suppose to eat. A plastic spoon stuck out and he noticed that it been barely consumed. It was the same for the fruit salad. He remembered living on this kind of stuff for weeks, back in Chicago.

  Then, he noticed something behind a tree. Mark and Justine's backpacks were still sitting on the ground and several questions popped into his head.

  Why did they not take their backpacks?

  This meant that they would come back for their stuff. It also meant that they would come back for him.

  And he felt a little better.

  But where did they go? It was noon when they first made camp here. And they were supposed to leave by 2 pm.

  Geronimo looked in every direction of the forest and saw pale pillars of light breaking through. He was happy to know that there was still daylight, but fading.

  Geronimo decided to try and make contact.

  "Mark! Justine!"

  Geronimo's voice echoed underneath the canopy of dark trees. He looked into the forest and saw nothing. Nothing caught his attention.

  "Mark! Justine!"

  But, there was no response, only the buzzing of crickets. He could no longer wait for them. The light was receding and he had to go.

  "Mark! Justine!" He tried a final time.

  Staring deep into the forest, he waited to hear their voices. He hoped that one of them would call his name. But, there was only silence.

  Then, he heard something else, something that sounded like a twig breaking in half. He looked into the forest again and everything appeared still and calm, except for the swaying branches above, where a gust of wind whistled through the forest.

  For a moment, he wondered why Mark and Justine left him.

  But, he could not dwell on the feeling.

  He felt this same way before and he knew what to do. He slid his hand into his back pocket and took out the drawing of the cat that his mother had made for him. He read the word written next to the drawing. She had wrote it one day without him knowing.

  FEAR THE NIGHT AND SURVIVE. It read.

  He smiled and felt nothing for Mark and Justine. He did not care about their things.

  Geronimo was ready to leave.

  He could no longer wait for them to return to camp. He would be cutting it too close.

  He gathered his things. There was a pair of binoculars, a map, and bottled water. He shoved them into his blue backpack. He left Mark and Justine's backpack and supplies exactly were they were, behind the tree where he found them. He looked at Justine's bag and thought about her children's book and how much he liked her idea. He thought about taking it. But, he left that too.

  He left a note, when he heard the sound of another twig breaking in the distance. It sounded if someone had stepped on a branch. Geronimo looked into the forest again.

  "Mark? Justine. I'm going to the rest stop. I'll meet you guys there. I have to go."

  He waited to hear something back. But there was only dead silence. The longer he looked at forest, the darker it became.

  Geronimo turned around to walk back to the road. He walked over dead branches and dry leaves. He arrived at a place where the forest butted up against a field of dead corn.

  22

  The Sun Illuminated the Field Of Dead Corn

  He was about to walk into the field, when he stopped to looked over the wide expanse. He could see Route 69 in the distance. There it was, the road to the next shelter. It waited for him, a dark grey line spanning across the land.

  At that moment, the clouds cleared away and the golden light came in sideways, illuminating the field and everything upon it.

  Immediately, his eyes were drawn to a spot, where he saw two people in the middle of the corn field. He recognized Justine's red sweater and he smiled with relief.

  For a quick moment, he thought that he had found Mark and Justine. He was about to call their names, when he stopped himself.

  He saw a flash of light come from Justine who hacked away at something on the ground. And Mark just stood next to her, watching. The scene was strange.

  Soon, Geronimo realized that the person standing next to Justine was not Mark. The man standing next to her was too fat to be Mark. He wondered what Justine was doing. He wondered what happened to Mark.

  Doubt filled his mind and he needed to be careful.

  Geronimo stepped back into the forest and took out his binoculars out of his bag. He crouched down low behind a tree truck and looked out into the field. Framed in a circle, he got a good look at the man standing next to the woman wearing Justine's sweater. However, he could not see her well. The red hood was over her head and she faced away from him.

  Then, he looked at the man. He was right. It wasn't Mark.

  The man was overweight and wore red suspenders over his blue sweater.

  There was another flash of light and another flash every time the woman raised her arm.

  Whatever she held in her hand, it reflected the orange light of the evening sun. He tried to get a better look at the woman on her knees.

  He knew that the woman was not Justine. It didn't feel like her, the way she hacked away at something laying on the ground. However, he couldn't figure out why she wore Justine's red sweater. Then, he wondered what happened to Justine.

  For now, Geronimo knew that the pair stood between him and the road.

  Geronimo noticed the woman throw something aside on the cracked earth and a cloud of white dust rose. With his binoculars, Geronimo looked at what she threw away.

  Once he realized what laid on the ground, his heart jumped into his throat and he could not breath.

  It was a severed hand.

  Next to it, he spotted something else, something that he once owned. He spotted his gold watch. At that moment, it all came together for him.

  The woman wearing Justine's sweater was bent over the dead body and she was cutting it to pieces.

  Geronimo turned away and sat against the truck of the tree. He did not know what to do. They wer
e standing between him and the road, between him and shelter. Then, he looked at the sun and it was starting to set.

  23

  Everywhere The Severed Body Part Went, Blood Spilled

  AT THE EDGE OF THE FOREST, GERONIMO WATCHED THE WOMAN KNEELING IN THE FIELD HANDED OVER THE FIRST BODY PART TO THE FAT MAN STANDING NEXT TO HER. The fat man wore red suspenders and received it carefully. He weighted it with both his chubby hands and examined its mass and bulk.

  Geronimo took a good look at it and recognized after a couple of seconds. It was a human leg.

  And it was a good catch, from the way the fat man smiled at it. The severed leg bled out from the artery just above the thigh, where woman tore into the flesh with the sharp object. The blood dripped onto the ground and splattered everywhere the body part went. With his bloodied hand, the fat man placed the leg into the black bag and he waited for the woman to hand him another.

  The woman hacked away at the body, until she stopped from exhaustion and needed to a couple seconds to catch her breath. As she wiped the sweat off her brow with her forearm, breathing heavy. She arched her back. Once she was ready, she bent down again and went back to work.

  In silence, Geronimo stood behind the trunk of the tree and watched in horror, as these wicked things unfolded in front of his eyes. At that moment, he knew that Justine was wrong and that the land was dead and that the day was no longer safe.

  Then, the man with the red suspenders took another leg and placed it inside the black plastic bag. For a couple of minutes, the woman kept handing the fat man body parts until they filled the black plastic bag.

  The fat man pulled out another bag from his back pocket and unfolded it with his chubby little fingers. There was such delight in his eyes as he unrolled the plastic bag. Then, he ran it through the sky and caught a bag full of air. The black bag was wide opened and she continued to hand him the rest of the body parts, until the second bag was also full.

 

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