by Mazlow, J.
As I ate people wandered in and out and each time the door creaked as someone entered or shut behind someone I jerked and looked. No matter how hard I tried to remain at ease each tiny noise caught my attention. So, when the door creaked, and the preacher and his two bullish sons strode in I caught his eye. Those dark eyes, seemingly too small for the bulbous head that bestrode his neck contained a knowing smile and an icy brittleness. As he entered someone called out, “Morning Reverend,” to which he nodded respectfully. Another asked him if he wanted any food. “No, no I have been up for a while and I have already eaten. The wise man rises early and begins the Lord’s work as all of you do. In the days before the fall men stayed up all night and slept all day as if they were vampires forsaking the God given cycle of the land.”
After locking eyes with him I assumed to my dismay that he would make his way straight over to me, but though he did move steadily towards me he wove a winding path through the people, stopping to say a quiet word with his head close to them, praying, hugging and shaking hands. The two young men that he’d had with him the day before, who I presumed to be his sons, followed behind him as silently as if they were deaf, dumb, and mute, as eerily as specters. I could have believed that no one saw them but me for the attention they received despite the heavy clubs and pistols they wore at their belts. The preacher stayed between me and the table where everyone dropped off their bowls before exiting and Ryan still sat at the table eating a bite now and then as he talked so I stayed where I was hoping that the preacher was not angling towards me and trying to hide the twitching of my leg. Eventually he stepped up to me, his face uncomfortably close to mine, with the two young men behind him. He extended a red hand. It was soft and sweaty despite the chill morning. “I’m Reverend Edwards, the pastor for this community and these are my sons Jonathon and Aaron.” I unconsciously wiped my hand on my pants as the handshake ended. The ends of his sleeves and his collar were frayed, his tie was threadbare, and he smelled of smoke and sweat but his clothes were unstained, and his shoes shone. He bore himself proudly. It was as if time had split asunder and deposited him here in this desolate cold wilderness. “I hope that you’ll be attending services this Sunday,” he said. I didn’t answer not knowing what he was talking about. “Your brother has not yet graced us with his presence. We hope that if you enjoy it you might encourage him to attend. It is hard for the people to be torn between their faith and their leader.”
“I’ll think on it,” I said.
“Do that? Think hard on it, for your eternal life hangs in the balance.” His two sons stared ahead dull-eyed and sullenly behind him. I felt trapped between them in the wall as if I would be crushed by the preacher’s slowly encroaching body. His voice grew even quieter as he went on. “I heard that you were mucking, but that now your brother has relieved you of that duty. Yet some of my flock still must muck. Family is important but even more important is this community and of the supreme importance are the Lord and his plan for your eternal salvation. Your brother has done the Lord’s work in building up this camp, but it could be so much more, it could almost be a representation of His paradise on earth, if only he would exile the vampires.” His voice grew loud enough that the whole room was able to make out his words. “Cast them out. Cast out those whose souls have already been deemed unfit. To keep them here is a sin and the Lord and his people do not long tolerate sin. Already the yoke grows heavy.” His eyes glimmered as if they were afire and I shivered. He stepped away from me and then added.
“You’ll find many brethren and many pleasures in the Lord. Come to service, others here will tell you how it lifts their burdens.” With that he left to a chorus of voices wishing him well. I could feel their eyes upon me as I went to put my dirty dishes in their place and followed the men to congregate outside in the chill morning air, bummed a cigarette off of someone and smoked it off by myself looking away down at the glint of the sun on the river and breathing in the smell of an outhouse underneath the smoke.
Ryan soon came out, sweeping me up in the crush of the men as we set off towards the river at a fast walk. The ever-ubiquitous dogs followed behind us happily, but up the hill from us a couple of figures moved at our speed through the pasture carrying rifles. The animals gave them a wide berth. Ryan fell in beside me with most of the group in front of us. For the most part they were younger than us, just boys really, as young as 10, though a few were men with silver hair, wrinkled faces, and painful shuffles.
“So, you were mostly a ranger then?” Ryan asked. I must have looked puzzled, so he put in, “That’s what we call those who wander, pretty much everyone who doesn’t live at the camp. What’d you call us?”
“We didn’t know you existed down south where I was. I was a ranger if that’s what you want to call it.”
“Then you won’t know much about gardening then. Of course, not many of us knew much about gardening anyways. Before your brother came, we planted these fields in the early spring and then ran north as the vampires returned with the warmth. Staying put works a lot better though.” He grabbed his belly and shook it. “The proof’s right here.” He laughed and I chuckled uncomfortably. The motion felt unnatural and my throat felt locked up. “Lucky for you it’s late in the year and a lot of the hard work has already been done. You’ll be fine.”
It was only a short walk, following the same path that the vampires had used to bring me into the village and soon we entered the tall fields of corn. Their deep green shone in the sun and glittered with dew. As we walked, I saw the two figures trotting off to the east, cross the ridge and disappear. No one else seemed to notice. The dogs disappeared into the corn, but we pressed on.
“We’ve already done the first harvest on this field,” Ryan explained. Eventually we reached our destination, marked by a pile of burlap sacks weighted down with a large branch. Everyone took one and disappeared into the corn. I followed Ryan down a row of corn, pressing our way through the thick leaves and drooping stalks. His wide shoulders barely skirted the stalks unless he turned sideways. The sticky leaves zipped against my windbreaker and left behind an itch wherever they touched my skin and I envied the other men their thick homemade clothing. Ryan reached into the corn and pulled an ear away from the stalk with a ripping sound. He held it up to me squeezing it between his fingers, a mummy of vibrant green leaves and translucent tassels.
“Look for one about this size, then give it a little squeeze to check the fruit for ripeness.” I took it from him gingerly and squeezed it as delicately as I could. “I suppose it don’t matter that much. At worst you could pick a few that aren’t quite ripe enough. They’ll get used anyhow. They have to. They can always go to the pigs.” He grinned at me, a big man who grinned at everything. I smiled back uncertainly. “Take this,” he handed me one of the rough sacks. “You walk down this row.” He pointed the direction we’d been headed into a green labyrinth of corn that swallowed everything but the blue sky overhead. “Check every plant and put the ears in the sack. Once you’ve got a full one brings it back to the road and get another sack from the pile. We’ll come along later with a wagon and pick them up.” He stopped and I nodded. “Easy enough. All right, I’ll leave you to it then.” He walked off through the stalks back towards the road accompanied by the whisk of corn leaves settling back into place behind him.
I hesitantly approached the next plant, leaning around it is checking for the ears. A couple clung tightly to the stalk. As far as I could tell they felt the same as the one he’d shown me. They were thick enough. Ryan had failed to show me how to detach the ear from the stalk. They weren’t like a fruit which you just pluck from the branch. They were fused to the stalk. I grabbed one and pulled on it is shaking the entire plant and those that it rubbed against. The ear remained stubbornly in place. Finally, I pulled it downward, ripping it off the stalk with a damaging sound. I did the same for the second ear on the stalk and then moved on to the next plant. I could hear other ripping sounds emanating from further into the field and I
felt somewhat reassured, although I had visions of the entire row that I harvested withering and browning in my trail. Dottie would shake her head and my brother would have no choice but to send me back to mucking, which in the quiet surroundings of the field seemed a most unpleasant job. It didn’t take long for me to begin moving automatically, pulling ears, shoving them into the bag with a squeak as their leaves rubbed against one another. The world consisted of green, shadows, the crumbly soil beneath my feet, the calls of birds as the arose startled from the crop, the blue sky, and the sun overhead. Soon I grew warm and sweat rolled down my temples and through the small of my back. My sack grew heavy and I dragged it along behind me, then it filled, and I took it back to the road. Nothing moved on the road but there were several other sacks lying on its side. I went back to where I’d left off fresh sack in hand. The row stretched on forever, nothing but stalk after stalk of corn rustling whenever the air moved. I went back to work. What was my brother doing? I hadn’t seen him doing anything. I should have been working with him, helping him. I wondered if he was lonely surrounded by all those vampires.
The morning rolled by delineated only by the sun’s progression and the growing ache in my arm from carrying sacks full of corn. My thoughts wandered in and out of a daze, so that I didn’t notice the voices right away. They were punctuated by the ripping of ears from the stalks.
“I heard that there’s a bunch of people headed here from the east. They should be here any day now.”
“Who’d you hear that from?”
“The reverend.”
“The reverend told you that.”
“Well not exactly. It was Todd, who heard the reverend discussing it.”
“Shit, no men have shown up in almost a year now. You think they’re going to show up now, with winter bearing down on us. No men make it here anymore except for his brother and I’ll tell you why. He won’t let them. Either he feeds them to his vampire buddies, they get scared off or he kills them.”
“But we need more recruits. And we need more women.”
“You’re too dimwitted and ugly to get with a woman even if we had more around. Answer me this: how many vampires have shown up since the last man showed up.”
There was a pause. They pulled a couple of ears off and I pulled off one, my ears strained to catch them when they spoke again.
“About fifty I’d say.”
“Fifty vampires and no men and that doesn’t strike you as strange. No men are showing up, we’ve got too many of those damn vamps around now no human outside the inner circle can ever go hunting our scouting. Half of those bastards want to be vampires anyways and the other half are already worse than vampires. We’ve been stocking up to clear the land for a while now, but I haven’t seen any clearing out, all I’ve seen is more and more vampires coming in.” He let out a long-ragged breath at the end of his rant. His companion wasn’t saying anything. I tried to quietly peer through the stalks, but I couldn’t make anyone out.
He began again quieter. “It’s like the reverend says, he’s too close to the vampires. It’s not right, it’s not natural. Well shit, what the hell can we do about it. I’m not going back to roaming. I don’t think I’d even survive. Let’s get some corn picked so Ryan doesn’t get on us.” The ripping of ears began steadily again and though they continued talking it was difficult to hear and uninteresting. I crouched down right there in the middle of the corn and wiped the sweat off my brow wondering what in the hell I’d gotten into.
Not too long after that a bell rang from the village and soon after that Ryan yelled, “lunch,” as he walked down the path. Unlike the morning walk the group dissolved as everyone quickly made their way to the farmhouse for lunch mingling with other groups flowing out of other fields and buildings. A group of men stood off in one field recently cut down to nothing but stubble firing rifles at stacks of hay bales stained with red targets. The preacher stood watching. His sons were amongst those firing. He nodded to me, then waved and smiled as someone behind me called out to him.
My brother stood at one end of the farmhouse’s porch shielding his eyes against the sun with one hand and staring to the east as a cigarette burned down in his other hand. As we approached, he moved over closer to the stairs taking a drag from his cigarette and nodding at those who acknowledged him. He waved me over. “I need you to do something for me,” he said in a weary voice.
“What?”
“We need a little more privacy.” When he saw Ryan making his way through the courtyard with his slow steady pace, he called out to him. Ryan made his way up the stairs grinning and stood in front of us.
“You two look alike,” he said. “I can see why Mary likes him. We should get rid of that beard though, makes him look like a roamer.”
“That’s what he is though,” my brother said. “Probably the best damn roamer you’ve ever met.” The words formed such a compliment that I wouldn’t have expected to hear from my brother, but his tone twisted it into derision. “When we clear out land to the south his experience will be key.” There was a pause as a group of young boys ran through the yard swinging sticks at one another and whooping.
“Are you going to get all of that corn in in time.”
Ryan shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think we planted too damn much. Probably some of it will just have to rot there through the winter or feed the raccoons and deer. Maybe we can lay out there and stock up some deer meat.”
“You can put some men out there over the next few nights if you want to, but I want all of that corn harvested. I’ll put some vamps on it if that’s what it takes.” My brother’s voice grew darker. “It’s going to be a long cold winter and we’re going to be moving south through it. We’re going to need all the supplies we can get. Come see me this evening then.” With that he dismissed Ryan with a curt nod and a pointed shifting of his body towards me. He picked up a broad brimmed hat that had been lying near the railing and swept it onto his head. “Let’s walk.”
We walked around the farmhouse and through the yard in the back where an old woman was beating a rug, then we passed into the warren of little shacks and headed towards the river. My brother wore sunglasses that glinted in the light despite his hat.
“Your little friend is a tough little shit,” he said. I didn’t know who he was talking about. I felt lonelier in the camp than I had roaming as they said. They all knew one another, had grown up with one another and lived with one another for so long that they were practically family. There was no way I could find a place in their society, especially not with my brother looming over me.
“Oh, he told me all about your mission so don’t think that his endurance extends to his loyalty to you. He told me of the bargain the General is willing to strike.” A sudden chill struck me as I realized that I’d forgotten all about Abdul. I felt like I’d been bewitched by the camp and the reminder of Abdul had awakened me. My brother snarled. “He’ll let me have the frozen northland as my own little province if I send him ransom. I’m of half a mind to send you back to him with my answer and then see if he doesn’t feed you to his minions.” He rubbed his hands together and muttered. “Two birds with one stone.” We came down to the river and made our way along a narrow path that ran through brush and squat trees over soft ground. The village disappeared except for the trails of smoke that faded against the blue sky. The path ended at small building of concrete blocks and a tin roof. Its only entrance was a stout wooden door. Outside the door stood Peter, Robert and the two twin brothers, each with shotguns or rifles in their arms or with their butts casually rested on the ground and pistols were strapped to their waists. The old vampire smiled insanely as we approached. “He won’t say a word, no he won’t. You want me to try again.”
“No, we’ve tried your method.” My brother responded as we walked up. My brother’s entourage didn’t salute or anything, but the two brother’s bearing stiffened somewhat in his presence. “Now we let my brother see what he can do?”
“What d
o you mean?”
“Your pal, Abdul, won’t give up any information on the General. I’ve had it up to here with it. I’ll have him dismembered. I’ll have him burnt up. I don’t care. You tell him. Tell him if he divulges information and it turns out to be true, I’ll release him. He can live with us. The other vampires can tell him all about it. How much they like being out from under the thumb of the General. The General has grown soft; we’re going to crush him. Tell him he’s got this opportunity to jump ship. It won’t happen again.”
“Why me?”
“He asked for you.”
“He asked for me?”
“That’s what I just said isn’t it? He asked for you, so I’m sending you in with the hopes that you can get some information out of him. I want to know numbers, arms, locations, anything you can get out of him.” He glared at me with hard suspicious eyes shining like chips of knife blades half buried in frozen soil. “I don’t know what game the General and this vampire are playing but that vamp is still trying to play it.” He waved over Peter who handed him a key. “Here,” my brother said holding out a narrow candlestick. When I took it, he lit it with a Bic, pulled the lock from its hasp and opened the wooden door open with both hands, pulling its bottom through the soil. “For your sake I hope that you’re not a part of it.”
I couldn’t make anything out in the building’s pitch-black interior and as I stepped up to the doorway the cool damp air smelled stagnant. I thrust the candle into the building and waved it around trailing hot wax onto my hand and sputtering the flame. In the back corner a pale face flickered as the light hit it and then faded back into the darkness. Ducking I stepped into the building. Abdul looked up at me with a haggard face. His eyes were huge in the darkness. The door scraped in the soil behind me and I whirled around almost dropping my candle and shouting, “What are you doing?”