Authors: Melissa Gibbo
Tags: #vampire, #urban fantasy, #humor, #fantasy, #undead, #central florida, #infected, #outbreak, #survive, #apocalypse brings zombies and vampires but paranormal romance buds between boy and girl
Five sets of wide eyes and raised eyebrows
surrounded me.
“Not a good idea?” I asked.
Daemon cleared his throat.
“Well it’s a good idea, but I’d prefer if you
six went back and just let us manage this search. Personally, I
kind of hoped you wouldn’t have to see that place. And if Troy’s
sidekick sees it, he’ll probably have a nervous breakdown.”
“Can you really blame him?” Troy tensed his
jaw as he rotated an arrow between his fingers. “He already feels
awful for what happened when they were all starving, imagine how he
feels after learning what became of those people he’d been friends
with for years?”
“Look, let’s just lighten up on Seth and
focus on what we’re doing now.” I placed myself between the two
men. “Are you guys okay with this plan?”
I waited for answers while Cal just strolled
through the living room, glancing at the photos of the family who
had lived there.
“It is agreeable to me.” He announced
softly.
“Hell, y’all know I’m up for exploring a bit.
Ought to do this one thorough anyhow; no telling if this fella will
drop in on us one day.”
Vincent just nodded and held his boyfriend’s
hand. The Jamaican looked everywhere but at me. His mouth kept
moving but no distinguishable words fell out.
Troy stood.
“Well I guess we should get some rest if
we’re heading out in a few hours. I’ll check on Seth real quick
before bed. Wake me for my watch.”
Watching him walk down the hall, I
volunteered for a two-hour shift. To my surprise, the Roman offered
to sit with me until it was time to wake the lovebirds. Daemon said
goodnight and shuffled upstairs for the day, tossing us a frown.
Soon, Cal and I were alone in the living room.
I walked to the window to sneak a glance
outside.
“I take it Daemon wanted to team up with me
for watch; I recall you prefer to sleep early and he likes to wait
to rest.”
“Of course. I wanted to speak to you
privately. Eliminating possible temptation for the two of you was
merely a happy perk.”
“I don’t need a babysitter. I hope that’s not
the only thing you wanted to talk about, because I really do enjoy
chatting with you about everything else.”
“It was a good decision to double-check what
Daemon and I told you.”
I stopped peeking out the curtains.
“What?” I faced him, letting the fabric fall
from my hands. “That’s not why…”
“Yes it is. You want to make a run to that
suburb so that when we return you can honestly tell the entire camp
what was found. I don’t harbor any sense of insult over it; I’m
more impressed that you controlled your emotions so well.”
I willed my face and body to appear as
neutral as possible. The vampire grinned widely.
“Exactly like that, Squirrel. I suppose
Daemon isn’t the only one who has been practicing their control
lately.”
“Well, our situation didn’t give us much of a
choice, did it?”
“No, it did not. But things could be worse;
being unable to follow your romantic desires is far better than to
suffer killing your lover.”
Rummaging through my bag for a snack, I
shrugged.
“We haven’t done anything else, so you can
forget the lesson.”
I set some dried meat and veggies out. I
tried to keep my hands steady and my voice level.
Just like playing
poker.
“So I see. I’m sorry you and the boy have to
step away from your feelings, but it’s for the best. At least it
has assisted your growth as a leader.”
The Undead Roman crossed the darkened room to
the stack of bags. I ignored the buzz of retorts flitting around in
my head as he opened the nearest one.
“Here, you’ll want some water with that.”
I accepted the canteen and pushed my anger
down.
“How does not being with someone I love make
me a better leader?” My words came out more snidely than I’d
intended. Taking slow breaths, I looked Cal in the eyes.
Get your breathing level
and maintain normalcy. Just go blank like you did at work when it
got too busy during the summer. No personal feelings, just
focus.
“It’s not avoiding love, but controlling your
heart that is helping you. Every great general or politician must
learn to make difficult decisions with a mask of non-expression. I
can hear you working to regulate your heart rate as we speak; it
has become instinct.”
I sensed the truth of his words and hated him
for it.
“You’ve been forced to make tough decisions
for the greater good of our society, despite your feelings of
empathy and remorse.” He looked away with a grin, dusted off a
table, and sifted through the stack of magazines underneath. “The
Jamaican tested you and you passed, albeit with a more visible
reaction than I’d recommend. When Daemon and I told you about the
ruined neighborhood, you again made the correct choice in resolving
to verify our story. I am equally proud of you and sad for
you.”
I ripped off a chunk of the smoked meat with
my teeth. Chewing furiously, I heard my snarkiness before realizing
I’d said the words aloud.
“Glad you’re pleased with my progress, but I
didn’t do any of this to please you. I’m just trying to keep
everyone alive. And I’m not going to stop talking to Daemon; I can
survive not being with him, but I refuse to live without him in my
life.”
I cleared my throat to keep back the tears I
felt welling upwards.
Cal slowly came to my side and bent to give
me a gentle hug.
“I’m not cruel enough to suggest you two
cease your friendship; not that either of you would ever comply.”
He forced a chuckle. “I just want you both to be safe. I wish you a
long life and him a life free of the torment I already endure.
Neither of you know what it is to destroy your lover, and I pray to
Jupiter that it remains that way.”
I felt the drops weaving their way down my
cheeks. I thought of my own loneliness and tried to imagine Daemon
spending eons beaten down by guilt and sorrow. The weight of my
heartache and sympathy for Cal broke my strength. I let myself cry
at the sadness while the vampire held me and stroked my back. When
I finally looked up, I saw the lines carved into his face by
centuries of anguish.
“Are you alright?” He asked as he leaned
away.
“Yeah. Thanks, I’ll be fine. I’m sorry Cal. I
didn’t mean to take it out on you, I know you’re just looking out
for us.”
“Everything is well, Squirrel.” He stood and
placed a blanket on the dusty couch. “Our shift is nearly done.
I’ll wake the next pair; you get to bed. It will be a lengthy
day.”
I put away my food and made myself
comfortable. He tucked me in and kissed my forehead before exiting
the room. I thought briefly of my parents. My eyes ached and my
head pounded as I closed my eyes, wishing I’d wake to find this
world a dream.
The day was a waste. Seth’s former home was
exactly as the vamps had described it. On seeing the inglorious
heaps of human remains, the spearman climbed out of the F150 and
walked into one of the cookie-cutter houses. Seth walked past the
refuse and bone shards to the barren flower garden, retrieved a key
from a false rock, and opened the beige door. I watched as he wiped
both feet on the gore-laden welcome mat.
Vincent, Marley Guy, and Bubba stayed with
the vehicles, providing coverage in case of attack. Troy and I
followed the former accountant inside. Cautiously we peered around
the rooms in search of our companion. Pictures and clothing were
strewn over the floor. I tripped over a bowling trophy and fell
into a bookcase. Tomes on bookkeeping and investing toppled onto
me, blanketing me with a layer of dust.
Troy helped me to my feet, kicking the
useless books to the side. We continued our exploration of the
house. The kitchen cupboards were bare and a trail of footprints
was revealed. Sunlight streamed in the cracked windows and onto the
take-out menus covering the counter. Troy called out.
“Seth. Seth where are you?”
Reaching the master bedroom, we found him.
The former accountant sat on the closet floor mumbling gibberish.
In his hands was an open shoebox of various items.
“Mom’s earrings, Dad’s favorite fishing lure,
Granddad’s medals from the war…”
Troy brushed past me.
“Seth, hey man, whatcha doing there?”
I watched as he knelt and reached for the
cardboard box. Seth’s head snapped up and he glared at his
friend.
“Don’t touch. Just…just leave me alone.”
He moved a foot away and went back to rifling
through the memento package. I noticed the photos on the
nightstand; they all showed a smiling man surrounded by loved ones.
The same man sat in the dust on the cold floor, a good thirty
pounds lighter and aged ten years by misery.
“Troy, give him a minute. It’s his
house.”
Troy glanced around and relaxed his
stance.
“Alright, Seth, we’ll be right outside the
room. Let us know if you want anything.”
Gradually, the bowman stood and made his way
to the doorway. As though stung by a bee, he straightened, turned,
and picked up his friend’s gun. As he passed me he whispered.
“Don’t take your eyes off him. I’m going to
look around for a few minutes and then we need to go.”
I nodded and watched Seth nervously.
After ten minutes, the accountant closed the
little box and rose to his feet. I looked away while he wiped his
eyes and nose. I smiled weakly at him and realized a lot of the
spark had left his eyes.
“Thanks, I’m just going to grab a couple of
things and we can go.”
Without another word, the three of us carried
our belongings out of the lifeless abode and rejoined our detail.
The others surveyed the broken man and avoided asking questions.
Our detail clamored into our gas-guzzling chariots and advanced to
the main road. We’d be in the familiar clearing by sunset, detail
one arriving within an hour past. It was expected to be a mellow
return to Nova Nocte. We should have known life doesn’t conform to
such plans.
We heard the rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire before
our vehicles reached the clearing. The sun was still lingering
above the horizon as we pulled into the field. Vincent and Bubba
jumped into the third vehicle, the soldier readying his weapon in
the passenger seat. We did the same while our convoy plowed through
the brush and grasses to our encampment.
Marley Guy kept muttering as he drove and I
found myself praying that we made it in time. I heard a variety of
blasts; there was the boom of a shotgun in the midst of the quick
bursts from an automatic weapon, the regular bang of rifles, and
several handgun pops. I wrapped the rifle sling around my wrist and
locked it into my shoulder as we neared our home. I looked ahead
and saw Troy already leaning out his window with a sawed-off
shotgun in his right hand and a pistol in his left.
Coming over the last hill, the situation
became clear: the big guy had rounded up the rest of his headhunter
pals and tracked down our place. There were nine or ten men
unloading round after round into the steel wall and wooden
platforms. Sparks and splinters flew on each impact. We were behind
the assailants; their thundering barrage of bullets masked our
arrival.
We opened fire as we neared. I saw two men
fall, one shooting his comrade in the leg as his torso spewed blood
onto the parked Hummer. The besiegers rounded on us. We kept
driving past the attackers, firing on them in uneven volleys while
our sentries inside camp rained down cover fire from the towers.
Soon, only five men were standing and we stopped the vehicles to
face them. From the wooded area behind our fort we saw the
smoke.
One of the ravagers had sneaked around the
wall before we’d turned up; he’d tossed several Molotov cocktails
inside. There was screaming from inside the camp as the smoke
thickened and grew black against the multi-colored dusk sky. I
spotted the firebug running back to his decimated militia, flinging
another bottle of flame against the nearby tower as he ran. I saw
the sentry jump from the blazing platform; it looked like Jake.
Seth emerged from the truck and heaved his
spear. It drove through the arsonist’s stomach and through his
back. The spearman howled with rage as he charged at the man,
firing his revolver with each step.
“How could you do those things, Aaron? How
could you! You were a doctor.”
Holes exploded from the deceased man’s torso,
leg, and chin as the projectiles found their marks. I yelled to the
others.
“Get the vehicles to the gate and deal with
the fire. Go to Plan B!”
Vincent, Marley, and Bubba hauled off to
rescue our people. Troy and I took refuge behind our lumber stack
and continued picking off the cannibals. Soon, there were only two
men left and the gunshots tapered off. Hearing the click of an
empty magazine, we both charged with our swords drawn; we’d run out
of ammo minutes before, but someone in camp had upheld protective
fire for us.
I plunged my blade into the nearest man’s
ribcage while Troy beheaded the other in one quick swing. He took
three more swings, severing the remains into chunks of gushing red
and gurgles of air escaping its human cage. I pulled my blade free
and felt a sharp pain in my lower leg as my victim stabbed me with
a pocketknife. Furious, I brained him with the pommel of my sword
and proceeded to hack at him until I was drenched in sweat and
sanguine fluid.
I wiped his blood out of my eyes and surveyed
the situation. The camp was engulfed in flames and everyone was now
being loaded into the vehicles with any supplies we could carry. I
ran to help, stepping on the leader of this rampage; he’d died of a
single gunshot through the back of his skull. The vamps had landed
as soon as the evening had begun and rescued most of our
residents.