After the Fall

by Martinez, A. J.

  “He’s not so well. I spied two dead ones as they mounted an ambush. They boy ran from them and fell. I’m afraid his foot is broken. I did the best I could to mend it and bring him back here.”

  “And what about you? Were you scratched or bitten? Surely you must have fought the demons.”

  “There are two less zombies left in the world.” The man stared. It seemed that the word zombie had gone out of vogue in this part of the world. “The demons, that is. As for myself, I am fine. Nothing a day of rest can’t cure.”

  I stole a glance at my hand when the man wasn’t looking. The wound had not healed, but it had scabbed over. It felt swollen and painful. Now I was beginning to worry. Until then, I thought that being undead myself, their bite would have no effect on me. Now I realize the sheer foolishness of my thinking, and it could have cost me my life.

  I pictured myself falling ill, like all of the others I saw during the Fall. The fever would take me and I would awaken as one of them, ever so ravenous for flesh and with all but the most basic faculties gone. I wondered if any part of my consciousness would remain.

  No punishment in hell could be worse than that. To know that once you used to be someone but unable to recall exactly who. The only things left in the mind would be scattered memories and the strongest habits. During my travels, I have watched the dead sitting at a desk inside what may have been their offices. Not once did it cross my mind whether something remained of that person. Now I thought I might find out for myself very soon.

  One of the guards came and took the boy to the infirmary. The Captain took my hand and held it up for examination. He flipped it over and let it drop, letting out a grunt that I chose to interpret as approval.

  “It’s obvious you’re not one of them. You speak quite well and you don’t appear ill at all. Their bites do not heal at all, either. They fester until you die.”

  That was the most reassuring thing I had heard all day. Maybe I was just resistant to their poison. Add that to the list of benefits my condition has given me.

  “Welcome to Jericho. The name is Alaric. I am Captain of the guard and a leader to these good people.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you. Mordecai is the name.”

  “I would ask you to let our doctor look at that hand, but it looks days old. Are you sure you did this while fighting the demons?”

  I said, “You know, I’m not even sure anymore. I’ve been on the road for a while.”

  “Then you must be weary, I’m sure. My son Matthias means more to me than you would ever know. I don’t know what I would do without him…I feel we owe you a debt for saving my only remaining son. Please stay for a spell and let us thank you properly. ”

  He was asking me to stay at a dwelling full of people. They saw a safe haven; I saw a potential smorgasbord. If I was still capable of it, I would have started drooling. Instead, I felt fangs begin to protrude like I was preparing to take a drink.

  “Oh, you think too much of me,” I said, which was true. “I would feel like I am imposing on you.” Not true, but this is a game. I wanted to scream “yes” as soon as he’d asked me, but my overeagerness might seem a little suspicious.

  “Think too much of you? You have endangered yourself to save my son! I can’t possibly think enough of you.”

  Yes, yes. Lay it on thick. “Please, stop. You embarrass me. I’m just a passing traveler who saw a chance to save a life. There’s so few of us left in this world.”

  He looked out at the sun as it made its way back to the West. “It’s getting late,” he said. “The roads late at night are no place for a traveler. You will stay with us. I will not let you go out there after dark.”

  “I suppose it has gotten a bit late. You’ve convinced me. I will stay, at least for tonight.”

  “Dinner should be ready shortly. I cannot wait to tell the others of your deed!”

  Wonderful. “Yes, I look forward to it. Is there a place I may put my things down for the time being?”

  “Of course! You’ll come stay at my house, won’t you?”

  “I would be honored.”

  A little bit of conniving and playing hard to get has earned me a place at the table. I can only hope that I’ll be there when dessert is served. In days long gone, I used to wait until the hosts and the rest of the guests had gone to bed or were too intoxicated. I would then indulge my hunger to the fullest extent. Drinking alcohol-saturated blood is twice the pleasure drinking alone was when I was living. It has both the Vampire rush that follows a meal and the relaxation of the alcohol. Now I found myself hoping that it would be that kind of dinner.

  “If it’s all the same to you, I would like to walk the place and look around. It’s been some time since I saw this many people or a town this size. It really is a true jewel in the wilderness.”

  “Thank you. We do our best by our Lord God every day of our lives. It is because of His Grace and the hard work of all these people that we have thrived so well. Yes, by all means, feel free. Our town is yours for as long as you wish.”

  “I will be back for dinner. Where is your home?”

  “Find the biggest building in the center of town and you will be there.”

  Welcome to Jericho

  After thanking him and excusing myself, I left to wander the town, which had ceased to be a hamlet in my eyes. The streets were thick with people. I could smell their blood, and it was tantalizing. My fangs were now fully extended and touching the bottom of my mouth. I would now have to be mindful lest I show someone my toothy grin and get myself burned at the stake. It’s not an experience I care to repeat.

  I was starting to feel a bit ill and once again blamed it on the lack of blood. It was so obvious that I should have realized it right away.

  The people were living underground!

  Those small dwellings were like the first story of an underground building. How else would they manage to squeeze so many people into such a small space?

  Going back to Alaric’s residence confirmed my suspicions. It was a square two-story brick building measuring about one hundred feet long and wide. For someone who had lived long and seen much, I could say it was no Versailles or Taj Mahal, but this place was the most magnificent structure in the whole town. Not a single foot of this place was made for lavish waste, either. There were people walking in and out of the place, but right now they were mostly entering. It seemed to serve as a civic center of sorts. I walked right up to the door, where an old matron eyed me with great attention. If I still had a soul left, I would say she could look right into it. She was old enough to have seen the beginning of the Fall. I wondered how much she remembered of it, how much she mourned or welcomed the change that followed.

  “You must be the stranger. Come in.” She ushered me in and led me up through the living room to the upstairs. I looked around and saw the contents of the room, wishing that I could stop and admire them. There were a few ornamental works of art that I knew to be unique: a large clay vase by the door, painted with all the painstaking care of a Ming vase, colorful sculptures of an angel smiting the devil (personified by a zombie in this version) with his sword, but most striking of all was the six-by-four foot painting on the far wall. It was an Impressionistic painting of Jesus emerging from the light to pull a man from the dark, while grasping hands tried to pull him into the darkness. It didn’t take much imagination for me to realize who were the owners of those arms, or who they believed they were supposed to serve.

  I may be in the wrong place.

  We walked down the hallway and stopped at one of the doors near the end. There were a few more paintings hung along the way. One was of two children smiling with the complete joy that only youth can bring. The boy had dark haired and resembled the boy Matthias may have been a few short years ago. The girl had red hair and freckles and looked more like her father than her brother did. Another one of a rising sun and two people walking toward the horizon. Sunburn is not quite my idea of romance, but humans will do what they do.
<
br />   My enhanced vampire hearing picked up some voices at the end of the hallway. They got louder as we approached. It was two people arguing, and one of them was Alaric. The matron knocked on the door and waited for a reply. Not hearing any, she decided to enter.

  “Wait here, please,” she said. The voices exploded into my ears when she opened the door. She walked in and out in a flash.

  “I’m very sorry. It will be just a minute. I have some things to tend to. Will you be fine with waiting here?”

  “That’s all right. I’ll wait.” And while I wait, I’ll get to hear what’s happening behind those closed doors.

  “You still haven’t told me what you were doing alone outside the gates this morning. Have you lost all sense?”

  “Stop trying to tell me what to do, father! I’m not just one of your townfolk you can just order around.”

  “You could have died out there! You almost did, were it not for a Good Samaritan who saved you and brought you back. The least you could do is be present at the dinner where we will be honoring him.”

  “I don’t care! And I wish he had just left me there. Everyone would be happier for it.”

  “Son, you cannot mean that! All that awaits us out there is the blight of the Pit of Hell.”

  “Stop with your nonsense already. I don’t care about any of it.”

  “You will come downstairs with me right now!”

  “I’m not coming. What are you going to do, break my other leg and force me to come down?”

  The sharp exhale of exasperation told me Alaric was at least considering it. I wouldn’t blame him one bit, but then again, I never had any children of my own. Even the Vampire children I sired became a thorn in my side after a few short years at most. I stepped away from the doorway and went back to pretend studying the “Two Lovers Into the Sun” painting. Ouch.

  “Mordecai! I am sorry to keep you waiting. My son really wanted to join us in the celebrations, but he is feeling indisposed.”

  “I trust it’s nothing serious, is it?” I answered.

  “No, he’s just tired from the day’s happenings and needs to rest. He will be better in the morning.”

  After hearing that conversation, I very much doubted him. I definitely was not born yesterday, and I knew what was happening between them was not something a simple good night’s sleep could cure.

  “You must come with me. This dinner tonight will be in your honor.”

  “Please, nothing like that. You embarrass me!”

  “I won’t hear a word of it. Your actions are worthy of recognition, and we will at least do that.”

  As grudgingly as I could pretend to do so, I accepted. My delighted host put his thick arm around me and led me downstairs. And by downstairs, I didn’t mean the first floor. We went down another flight of stairs that led us to a large underground hall. I’ll admit that I was impressed. These people didn’t have much, but they made the most of it.

  The long table and chairs had beautiful ornate patterns carved into them. Someone had taken serious time to cut, sand, and varnish this table into a work of art. I held it in the same esteem as I did the other works I saw displayed in the living room.

  “My good people!” he said to the group that had already gathered downstairs. “My son is feeling indisposed, but he sends his regards and wishes us to carry on without him.”

  This man can spin a yarn with the best of them. It’s no wonder he’s risen up to a leadership role, I thought. Even in the new world, politics will arise given a great enough number of people gathered together.

  Alaric took his seat, prompting everyone else to do the same. There were two empty seats to his left and one to his right. I gathered that the one seat must belong to his son and sat to the one further down on the left.

  “No, come sit with us. We will break with convention and seat you as one of our own.”

  I obliged him and sat to his immediate left. He rose and pulled back the chair to his right. A woman walked up to him and planted a kiss on his lips before taking her seat.

  She was all of nineteen and a flower in full bloom. I was smitten from the moment I saw her. To me, she was like the full moon on a clear night. Her hair was a long cascade of fiery copper thread. She had ivory skin so fair it rivaled my own, and eyes as green as emeralds. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything close to love, but I was feeling it now. That burning feeling surged from my chest up to my brain, making me heady with desire. My fangs stretched out to their max, pressing themselves into the soft flesh on the bottom of my gums. As enamored as I was with her, my baser nature only wanted the dark red wine that flowed through her veins.

  “My friend Mordecai,” said Alaric, snapping me out of my daydream. “I introduce to you my wife, Rhiannon.”

  Wife? This man was old enough to have a son close to my age, or at least the human age I am forever destined to look. It was obvious she was closer to the boy’s age than his father’s. She could have been a classmate of his, if we still had schools. I wondered if these people had schools? It was something I was willing to find out.

  “Are you well? You look a little dazed,” she asked me.

  “Yes, now that you mention it, I’m feeling a bit weak.” Perhaps from a combination of hunger and the desire not just for any blood, but her blood. Yes, I admit I must have looked quite dazed.

  The food arrived, much to the delight of the guests. They began to clap and lavish their praises on the cooks. A roasted pig with an apple in its mouth came on a large metal tray that was as ornate as the table. It took two people to carry the hog’s carcass to the head of the table. I could feel the hundred or so mouths salivating at the smell of the pig, their hearts beating in anticipation of the delicious meal. The sight of it dismayed me. What once would have been a delectable dish now smelled like burnt flesh to me. It was ruined! My thoughts wandered to the kitchen, or wherever this pig had been slaughtered and bled. I wondered if they had kept a bucket of that delicious blood. Now it was I who was salivating.

  There were other courses and side dishes brought out, but it was a mere afterthought in my memory. Those in attendance continued their celebration with great enthusiasm. I pretended to join and gave my gracious hosts the occasional smile. If they only knew that the only reason I saved his son was to preserve a meal, we would be attending a stake-burning, another event at which I would be the guest of honor—or dishonor, if you want to mince words.

  Alaric stood and addressed the people. “My good friends, I thank you all for coming. It makes my heart rejoice to see you all at my humble place once again. The great food made here today will make our stomachs rejoice as well.”

  “Hear hear!” said one of the guests, accompanied by cheers from everyone else. Alaric waited for the cheering to die down before resuming.

  “May our song of joy reach the heavens. I am grateful for every day that we can meet and celebrate like this, as Our Lord did break bread with his disciples in the beginning. Let us not forget Him, and let us not forget that we dine to remember that we still have one another, that our Creator has decided to spare us from the wrath of his Judgment.”

  “Amen,” said another one. The murmurs of agreement were much calmer now.

  “There is another reason for our celebration tonight. After a hunting mishap, my son lives. He’s a little worse for ] wear, but a kind soul sent to us from the Lord Himself saved him and delivered him unto us. This man who sits at my left tonight is our guest of honor. Please stand up for us!”

  I stood and graciously bore the embarrassment such attention caused me. It wasn’t in my plans to be a guest of honor when I awoke earlier today.

  “My good friend, would you like to lead us in the blessing?” he asked. Why, that sounds like a great idea! I would say. Let’s put a cursed creature to lead a blessing at a dinner of burnt offerings.

  “Let us bow our heads,” I said with all the zeal I remembered of old ministers that have been dead for many centuries. “God almighty, who created
the heavens and the Earth, you have chosen to spare us from the Apocalypse for a purpose, however unworthy we may be. I pray that you show us that purpose and give us the strength to fulfill it. May the Lord Jesus Christ Our Savior lead us into the Kingdom of Heaven, in thy name we pray, Amen.”

  “Amen,” said the awestruck assembly in unison.

  “I could not have said it better. You truly must be a prophet of God.”

  I tell you, had my better sense not intervened, I would have laughed right in his face. What made it most hilarious was the fact that he said this in earnest. What could I do? I thanked him and sat down.

  My gracious host Alaric began to slice open the pig and serve the plates. It was a most curious custom. All the guests began to pass their dish to the left, moving the food in a counterclockwise fashion. I imagined the conveyor would stop once all the guests were served. Alaric moved that knife with deadly efficiency and once again made me glad I was not on the wrong end of it.

  Before I knew it, the conveyor came to an end and I ended up with a slice of ham on my plate. I beheld it with such a look of apprehension that my host became concerned.

  “Is the food not to your liking?” he asked.

  Of course not, I could reply, but that would mark me as ungrateful. Also, he may not have realized that he fed me once today, or I should say his flesh and blood fed me, but that was another detail I would omit. I whispered in his ear and he nodded.

  “Yes, yes, odd request indeed.” He snapped his fingers at one of the servants. She went to the kitchen and came back with a goblet and a look of disgust. She set it in front of me.

  “Yes, this will do very well. Thank you very much.” I sipped at the goblet while Alaric tried not to stare at me.

  “Mordecai, can you tell us more about yourself?” asked the young wife Rhiannon.