“And I’m not complaining, believe me, but why would you think letting someone die after a long, painful fever would be more merciful than to send them out quietly in their sleep?”
“To kill them before they transform would be murder, pure and simple, and the Creator said, ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ What’s more, no one has lasted this long, much less survived it.”
“So you think that killing a human is immoral but killing them after they’ve changed is all good and well?”
“It’s not the same thing. Those things are demons. They are evil. We have a choice. Those aberrations do not. They are the Devil’s servants, and we have an obligation to kill them.”
“Fine, if that’s what you believe.”
“You saved my son. I felt I owed you a dignified death.”
“I’m glad for that. It’s the reason we are standing here talking.”
“There’s still the matter of my wife.”
I looked at her as she slept peacefully. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. “She will recover. Give her a few days of good food, rest, nothing strenuous. Your wife will be right as rain.”
Alaric accepted this with an uneasy smile and went to his wife’s side. “When I saw her, I thought I had lost her. I couldn’t go through that. Not again.”
I could imagine what happened to his first wife. There was no need to twist the knife in his heart, so I changed the subject. “I will be leaving today. I don’t wish to cause your family any more grief.”
“You can take a few more days to regain your strength. I’ll not have you turned out into the wilderness.”
What I really wanted was to stay in this cornucopia that they called a town. It was the first large settlement I had seen in many years and I would be hard pressed to find another, but Alaric had come too close to discovering the truth about me. This was not the kind of place to be outed as a Vampire. I’m sure there is a burning stake somewhere in this place reserved for witches, heretics, and other creatures like me.
“No, I think I should get back on the road, just as I meant to do last night.”
“It’s been three days since the dinner.”
“I…I see. All the more reason for me to be going.”
“What will you do? It will be dark in a few hours. You won’t have the benefit of a full day to start.”
“They are out both day and night. It’s not the night that worries me. I’m more of a night person anyway.” I hoped this would reassure him, but it only seemed to worry him more. “I don’t understand. Please explain to me why you wouldn’t want me to leave after all that’s happened.”
“I can’t. If you are resolved to leave, you are welcome to go anytime. We will give you food, drink, and any other supplies you need.”
Sure, just send me a few young, robust people full of rich blood and I’ll be on my way. “Thank you, but I will just go with the things I brought.”
We started to walk out of the room when he paused. “Do you think she’ll be—?”
“Yes, she will be just fine. Just let her sleep.”
The staircase spiraled its way back to the house. When Alaric opened the door, I came under assault. Daylight, my old nemesis had come back with a vengeance. Those days spent underground had wiped out what little resistance I had built up against the light. It was so bright I had to clamp my hand down on my eyes to shut it out. Fortunately, my hearing had not diminished one bit, and I was able to follow Alaric’s footsteps through the house until we came to a guest room upstairs. When I heard the sound of curtains sliding on their rods, I felt it was safe to open my eyes.
“I see you cannot stand the light either. Has it always been this way?”
“Almost my whole life,” I replied.
“How do you expect to travel by day in your condition? I don’t even know how you managed to do it last time.”
I searched for a reply and when I could find none, I shrugged. “I will wait for nightfall, then. No other choice until I regain some of my resistance to the light.”
He nodded and went to the closet to retrieve my backpack, that old beat-up relic that I had mended so much I didn’t know where the original fabric ended and my repairs began.
“These are your belongings. I ordered them brought up here and no one has been allowed to come in this room.”
I’ll be the judge of that. “Can I see?”
He passed them to me. “You know, I’m sure we can find you something…less worn.”
“Thanks. I rather like this old thing.” I tried to open the zipper but it stuck. When I pulled harder, the seams came loose—again. This backpack was like an old friend and I hated to part with it. However, some part of me knew it would have to go someday. The curse of being immortal is to lose everything you love. “Okay, I’m ready. What do you have for a replacement?”
I received my new backpack with mixed feelings, but I knew it was inevitable. The new one was made of thick hand-stitched buckskin, tanned sandy brown. Straps and buckles replaced the convenient but problematic zipper. It was actually a nice backpack, sturdy and honest, crafted in the same way everything was in this place.
The dream was fun while it lasted, but it was not meant to be. I had to leave, and I meant to do it tonight, lest I be tempted to stay in this boiling cauldron of a house. My things were packed and ready to leave at a moment’s notice. There was just one more thing to do. I had packed a few cans and jars of preserves, courtesy of my host, but what I needed most I could not take with me. In the golden days of refrigeration, one could stockpile a considerable supply of fresh blood that could provide sustenance for a year or more. One need only warm it, mix it gently, and it would be almost as good as the real thing. I say almost because it is like having a leftover meal from many days prior versus a fresh, home-cooked meal, or a piece of stale bread compared to a bite of a loaf that is fresh out of the oven. A poor substitute, but good enough to survive. It has been a while since I experienced those things, but they remained fresh as ever in my mind. Those of us who were blessed—or damned—enough to know the pleasure of a live meal know the difference.
Dusk began to paint the sky red and I ventured my way out of the room. I made it down the stairs and felt a pang of guilt for poor Rhiannon, who had sacrificed a bit of her health to restore mine. Besides, she was so fair to behold that I thought I should steal one last glance and burn it into my memory before I go. It may be a long time before I see another person, much less one as fair as this one, in the full bloom of youth.
I entered the room to find the matron tending to her. Alaric was close by with a sullen look on his face. He was worrying too much. I could sense her strength, and it was growing even now. The scent began to intoxicate me and I had to summon up my will to bring my feelings to order.
The matron gasped and clutched at her chest as if she’d seen a ghost, and by all accounts, she had. She stumbled backward and placed herself between us to protect her. I closed my eyes and lowered my head in acknowledgement, for I knew I deserved every bit of her reaction.
“It’s okay, Evelyn,” said Alaric. “He is not infected, never was. All he had was a case of fever and he’s made a full recovery. Am I right, Mordecai?”
I nodded.
“But what happened to Mrs. Rhiannon’s neck?”
“Just a mere accident when she came to check on him out of pity and he attacked in the throes of delirium.”
“Something like that,” I added. The matron calmed down, but she still eyed me with caution. Something told her I was up to no good. She had good instincts.
“Just came to say my final goodbyes,” I said.
“I know we spoke at length, but I would like a word with you before you go. Can you wait until I meet with the guard? I will not be gone long.”
“Yes,” I lied. It would give me the perfect chance to slip out unnoticed.
Rhiannon was already stirring before I arrived, but she sat bolt upright and looked
at me with excitement with a twinge of fear. The sight of me should have given her pause, if not downright panic, but she seemed all the more excited by the danger of it.
“Can you bring me some hot tea?” she said to the matron, who looked at me and hesitated. “I’m still feeling so weak.” She put a hand to her forehead for effect. And I thought Hollywood was dead.
“I will be right back.” She scurried out of the room, resolved to return straightaway. Truth was, I was as scared to be alone in the room as she was to leave us. I did not trust myself. Call it pheromones or whatever you will, but her essence seemed to breathe right out of her pores and I was doing everything I could to hold myself in place.
“Come closer,” she said.
How could she be so cruel to tempt me so? If she only knew the truth, she would have asked me to leave and never return. Yet I could not say no to those emerald eyes and pale face, with the smallest of freckles dotting the underside of her eyes and cheeks. I did as she bade me.
I stood at the side of the bed and looked down. She took my hand and gripped it. Now I could feel her heartbeat through her fingertips, the river of blood coursing beneath. It seemed to beckon to me, inviting me to taste more of her. She grabbed my arm and pulled until I knelt down closer to her.
“There, that’s better.” She smiled and showed me the rows of ivory white teeth framed by her ruby lips. I clenched my jaw and let out a strained breath as I struggled against the urge to seize her and feed again. “I know what you want,” she said. I felt my heart leap in panic. All I wanted to do was leave the room, leave this town and never return. She pulled down the other side of the scarf tied around her neck and caressed it. I took a quick breath and looked at her with wide eyes. She laughed. She was actually enjoying this.
“It’s my blood you want, isn’t it? You desire it, you crave it. Why not take it? Drink of me until you’ve had your fill.”
My fangs started their downward journey. Every other part of me was ready to do as she asked, but I held fast.
“I’ve already taken too much. You must rest.”
“No. I don’t need rest. I need you.”
At this point, my ears were filled with the rushing river of my own blood. I couldn’t resist for much longer and decided to leave while I still had the power to resist. When I tried to get up, she clung to me and refused to let go.
“I can’t do this. It isn’t right.”
“You know what isn’t right? Living the life I’m living. When I saw you, I knew there was something special. You’re the Angel of Death, come to take me to the Kingdom.”
Is everyone here insane?
I got up and tried to leave, but she held fast and started to come off the bed with me.
“Will you let me go already?”
“At least one kiss. Give me just one kiss and I will let you go,” she promised. It was a lie, but I wanted to believe her, and I wanted to kiss her even more, so I pressed my lips against her. She opened her mouth and shoved her tongue into my mouth, searching for my teeth. Sure enough, she found my fang and pricked her tongue with it, releasing a trickle of blood into my mouth. I lost all restraint and bit down a little harder on the tongue. She let out a moan into my mouth. I was lost in the rush of the blood that flowed into my mouth. At some point, I regained control of myself and pulled back. Her ruby lips were now painted in blood. She licked them clean and looked over my shoulder.
I despaired when I saw the matron standing there with the kettle and cup of tea on a tray. She stood stiff like she had just been paralyzed. There went all hope of leaving this place without any further commotion.
“Evelyn, come here this instant!,” Rhiannon commanded. She seemed so stunned that she obeyed at once. “Set the tray down, please.” After setting the tray down, she stood at the bedside opposite me.
“What did you see here, Evelyn? I want to know, because I know you care about Master Alaric’s feelings, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do, madam.”
“And you wouldn’t want his feelings hurt, would you? That just wouldn’t be something you would do, is it?”
“No, madam.” Her servile attitude was fading. The matron’s face was hardening with defiance. “That would be something for you to do. I saw nothing here.” She walked out without excusing herself. Rhiannon smiled at me.
“Now, where were we?” she asked in a sensuous tone.
“I…was just coming to say goodbye. Consider it done.” I bowed and walked out of the room before she could entice me again.
Heaven Sent?
It was night and my hat was unnecessary, but I donned it anyway. The streets were bathed in the dim glow of oil lamps. I pitied the people who had to tend to them, but it was nice to see the place lit. It was dinnertime, and the streets were deserted, which made me consider Plan B: animals. Not just any kind of animal, mind you. I am less cruel than I appear. What I sought were stray animals whose loss would not cause pain to any household. Moreover, I would be rendering a service to the community. I should be praised and lauded for this, but I knew it would not happen. Anyone who saw me would think me a savage and try to lock me up. They would be welcome to try.
Back alleys and passageways are by design a Vampire’s best friend, but I saw precious few of them and none of which housed strays. I am not one to give up easily, but I must have traversed the whole town without finding a single homeless animal. Just as I was about to throw my arms up in the air and take my chances outside the wall, I found the motherlode.
Two guards, fresh off their shift but still in their uniforms were looking for a place to have a good time. After some cajoling, the gamier one of the two agreed to show the other where they could go to “let their hair down for a spell.” Naturally, I followed them. I wasn’t sure if bars and taverns were outlawed here, but they seemed to be highly discouraged.
They went into one building that led underground to a darkened tunnel with a large steel-reinforced wooden door at the end. There was nothing ornate or crafty here. My Vampire senses smelled the foul acridity of vomit, urine, and a bit of dried blood, probably from a brawl. There were stains on the floor and walls, as well as scuff marks and assorted graffiti, some of a rather crude nature that I will omit for the sake of good taste. The two men walked to the end of the hallway, where they knocked in a certain pattern and waited for the doorman to slide the peephole open. He held out his lantern and recognized the one. He asked him if his friend was going to cause any trouble, which he vehemently denied. The doorman closed the peephole and opened the door. I came a short distance behind them, but the doorman glanced at me and closed the door. Ignoring his display of rudeness, I knocked on the door in the same pattern as the first man, which he believed to have been unheard. The peephole slid open.
“I don’t recognize you. Where did you get the countersign?”
“From some friends. They’re already in here,” I replied.
“Oh, really? Who are they? Everyone who shows up here seems to have a friend already inside, or they’re on their way.”
“Fine, I don’t have a friend inside, but I do have a friend here. Are you interested in coins much?”
He raised an eyebrow in interest. “What do you have?”
It was a complete gamble. I had no idea how much coins were worth anymore. It was a strange hobby of mine to rummage through the dead’s pockets in search of change. I held up a quarter to the door and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. Apparently, the value of coin money had skyrocketed after the Fall. I was holding a fortune in my bag and pockets. He licked his lips and looked behind him.
“You saying I can keep all this if I let you in?”
“It’s all yours.”
He held out his hand and I deposited the coin in his hand. The quarter disappeared inside his fist and retreated back in the door. He closed the peephole and made me wait a while, far too long for someone who had paid a handsome entrance fee.
“Please come in,” he said. “I spoke
to the bartender and he will take care of whatever you want for the first round. Consider it a welcome gift.”
“Thank you.” I smiled and walked into the first apocalyptic speakeasy.
For a tavern, it was fair. The counters were wood with a heavy coat of varnish. People sat around it in stools and also in the few small tables in the place. It was cramped in here, and it reeked of beer, liquor, and tobacco. The crowd around here was mostly of the vulgar persuasion, but there were a few upstanding citizens here hobnobbing with the riffraff. I knew this town was not as holy as it advertised itself.
Now that I was inside, I needed to find a friend. I found one in a man nursing an empty glass at the bar. He was looking like he was a few drinks into a stupor, but the bartender was frustrating his efforts.
“Come on, just one more. You know I’m good for it. I’ll get you back.”
“For the last time, NO. I waited weeks for you to pay your tab last time. Just go home and sleep it off.”
“I can’t sleep, you know that. And that’s why I drink, so I can sleep. Help me out here.”
“Frank, just stop. It’s not going to fix anything.”
“Wanna bet? A drink fixes me up right every time.”
“You’re not running another tab and that’s it.”
Right at that moment, I strode to the bar to save the night.
“Good evening. You must be the new guy. First drink’s on the house. What will you have?”
“I’ll have a bottle of your finest firewater,” I said.
“That free drink doesn’t quite cover it.” He crossed his arms and prepared for another argument. I reached in my pocket and produced a copper penny that I proceeded to slide on the counter.
“What will this cover?”
There were two sets of wide eyes this time. Frank snapped out of his buzz.
“My friend, that will cover the bottle and another if you’re still up for it.” He set a bottle of liquid that looked like rainwater, but I knew better. Once upon a time, this was known as moonshine.
After the Fall Page 4