Authors: Christine Dougherty
“What?” he yelled, one shoulder pressed against the door. There was a standard peephole, but without electricity, they couldn’t have sustained lighting outside the safe houses. They also didn’t want to draw attention to them. So he had no way of seeing who pounded on the door.
“It’s me…Allen! Let me in!”
Mark hesitated and looked to Promise where she stood in the hall. Shadows jumped and swayed from the gas lantern in her hand. She’d grabbed a stake, too. She shrugged her shoulders at Mark.
The pounding came again. “Let me in! I heard something screaming behind the house! Let me in, let me in!”
The vampires weren’t capable of normal human speech, but the person on the other side of the door could be bit…he could be changing. On the other hand, they couldn’t leave someone outside. They’d be dead or gone over by morning, without question.
Mark held up three fingers to Promise and nodded. She nodded back and waved Lea forward. Lea went to the door, and her hand fluttered over the heavy bolt. She looked at Mark where he’d taken up a spot on the other side of the door. He nodded and counted down on his hand…one…two…on ‘three’ Lea pulled the bolt and turned the door handle, yanking backward. A figure fell through the door, and Mark was on him, holding him against the floor as Lea pushed the door closed and shot the bolt back home. Mark grunted, and Promise stood over the struggling bodies, stake at the ready.
“Stop fighting me!” Mark’s voice was a roar, and the body beneath his ceased movement. Mark sat up, his hands on the boy’s shoulders. He was young, thirteen or so, thin and disheveled, and he looked very scared. Mark motioned for Promise to lower the lantern.
The boy lifted his head, showing the dirty line of his neck, and the lantern hollowed his cheeks and bruised the circles under his eyes. But he was unmarked.
“Are you bit, Allen?” Promise asked, and the boy shook his head.
“No! No, I swear I’m not! I didn’t even see any vampires!”
Mark looked up at Promise, and she shrugged. He rolled to the side and scrambled up. “Come on in the kitchen,” he said and offered his hand.
Once at the table, Lea pushed her bowl to Allen, and he dug in.
“What happened? How’d you get stuck outside?” Mark asked, and Allen looked up. His face flushed a deep red, and he lowered it, blinking.
Promise shook her head, and Mark sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ, are you kidding me? Don’t you dummies realize what could happen?” Mark asked. “Are you really
that
stupid?”
Some of the younger people–mostly a small group of boys aged twelve to fourteen– had started playing a game they called ‘tagged-out’ that involved running between the safe houses after dark.
“I’d heard about that stupid game, but I couldn’t believe–” Promise shook her head, her voice incredulous. “You really play that, Allen? Don’t you realize how dangerous that is?”
Allen glanced at Promise and shrugged. “It’s not like it used to be, not like when they first came here. We hardly ever see vampires anymore. No one even knows if they’re still around.” His voice held a tone of stubborn, little boy defiance. Everything he said was the amplification of what the boys said to themselves and each other in defense of the game.
“One chased me today, Allen,” Promise said. “During the daylight. In the woods. And it almost outran Ash.”
Allen’s face drained of color, and the dirt stood out in sharper contrast. Now he looked about eight.
Promise continued. “There are vampires around, Allen, don’t doubt that just because we take better precautions. The precautions are what keep everyone safe.”
“What would have happened if you had been bit? And we let you in?” Mark asked, leaning toward the boy. “Is it worth it? Are our
lives
worth the game?”
Allen shook his head, obviously upset, and brushed angrily at the tears trying to form in his eyes. Lea put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and he turned to look at her, his face filled with misery.
“Are you still hungry? Do you want some chips or crackers?” Lea asked, and Allen smiled shakily. She smiled back and turned to the food stored on the counter.
“Can I pet Ash?” Allen asked, and Promise nodded. She didn’t smile.
Allen pushed back his chair and then hesitated. “I really am sorry,” he said.
Promise nodded again. “Be careful petting him, his back leg is sensitive,” she said. “The vamp scratched him.”
Allen looked at her in surprise and then slid off his chair. He took the package of crackers Lea offered him and then went to the family room where Ash stood, drowsing. He offered Ash a cracker even before he ate one himself, and Promise, watching, sat back and sighed.
“He’s not a bad kid,” Mark said, as if reading her mind. “Just, you know, a boy.”
“There won’t be any boys left if they all act that stupid,” Promise said, but she kept her voice low.
They worked out the sleeping arrangements. Promise elected to sleep on the couch in the family room so she could stay with Ash. Mark said he’d bunk down with Allen in the room that held two twin beds, and Lea opted for the barren master bedroom.
“You gonna be okay, Lea? Not scared of being alone in there?”
Lea looked at Mark in surprise. Scared? Of being alone? She’d always been alone, really. She shook her head and smiled. “I’ll be okay,” she said and turned away, blushing at Mark’s concern.
The bedroom was big and open. The master closet and bath doors each had a sheet of plywood over them, just like the pantry downstairs. The bed–bare of sheets but heaped with a tangle of comforters–sat in the middle of the room, under three skylights. The skylights had not been covered. As far as anyone knew or had ever seen, flight was not part of the vampire’s repertoire.
Lea kicked off her sneakers, pulled the comforters into a nest, and lay on her back, staring up at the skylights. They broke the sky up like a triptych art piece: the far left held the half-moon a third of the way up, the middle was filled with stars, and the end contained a wisp of white-lit clouds that soon drifted into the middle frame. Lea was reminded of television and smiled.
This is a really boring program
, she thought,
the boringest!
and she closed her eyes, listening to the soft rumble of boys’ voices across the hall.
“You think it was really a vampire that almost got her? Even in the day?” Allen asked Mark, the blankets pulled to his chest. Mark was glad to have company in the room and didn’t understand why the girls each chose to sleep–essentially–alone.
“I don’t know how to explain it, but I think it was, yeah,” Mark said. “Promise is…she’s pretty brave, and I don’t think she’d panic or see things that weren’t there.” He yawned. “Plus, there’s the scratches on Ash’s leg.”
Allen seemed to think that over as his eyes began to close. Mark watched him from the opposite bed and found himself getting sleepy, too. It was nice having a kid nearby. It reminded Mark of his two little sisters. His parents had taken them to visit family in Ohio when the plague had hit Wereburg. He hadn’t seen them since the day they’d driven off, the girls waving from their nest of pillows and blankets in the back seat of his dad’s Ford.
The plague, which had been on an east to west trajectory, had probably swept through Ohio within a few weeks of Wereburg’s fall. He hoped that they were somehow okay out there and that he would see them again someday. As his eyes closed and he began his descent into sleep, he saw them again…their faces white circles in the clouded rear window…their waving seemed forlorn as they were carried away.
Promise sat on the couch, her legs tucked under, and watched Ash sleep. His body was warming the room, and his breathing was rhythmic, almost tidal. Promise had never been to the ocean, but her dad had told her that Lake Ontario was almost like the ocean in the way it moved and sounded. He’d never been to the ocean either; but he’d heard as much. She became aware of a deep sadness in herself, which she tried not to notice. During the day, when everything was work and survival, it was easy to keep sad thoughts away, but at night, especially tucked out here in a safe house, she felt the full weight of the past year and her losses.
She lay on her side, pulling the blanket over her shoulder as tears began to course down her cheeks. She cried quietly using the pink scrunchie to blot her eyes. After a long time, she drifted into sleep, where she and Ash ran on and on through endless woods and her mother chased after, screeching like an animal.
Chapter 5
The high school had been an easy and obvious choice for an outpost to house what remained of Wereburg’s residents. The classrooms had been found to be easily defensible and roomy enough to accommodate small groups. They each only had one entrance into the body of the school itself and once the bottom portion of the big windows had been covered, there was no way in for vampires.
People found that they had a natural inclination to huddle together when threatened, and the school served them well in that respect, too. They could be as together as they desired, utilizing the gym or cafeteria, and yet separate each night into whichever classroom they’d set up housekeeping in. There was a very disproportionate number of children and younger adults in the new Wereburg society. Many parents had died or been changed in defense of their children.
The country itself had mobilized against the vampires, President Reagan directing the armed forces from a secret bunker that was rumored to be directly below the White House. Television was gone, and radio was spotty, but the National Guard sent groups of soldiers around to all the outposts to keep them updated as far as advancements or any new data that related to the disease itself. A cure was being sought, and along with that, an immunization was being developed. Being immune wouldn’t keep you from being killed, but it might help turn the tide if they could keep the existing numbers of vampires static.
Mr. West was generally thought to be in charge, although he made no claims to it, and there had been nothing so concrete as an election. People simply deferred to him, and with good reason. Not only was he smart, he was also fair, and calm by nature. He met with the National Guard when they came in, called assemblies, divvied work, and mediated any dispute that disrupted community life.
Along with food, water, and news, the National Guard also occasionally brought refugees. Not every town had fared as well, and as survivors were found, they were brought to the nearest strongholds, like Wereburg, which were dotted miles apart over the wasteland of America.
Promise had developed a strong attachment to Mr. West. He reminded her of one of her favorite television characters: the Professor from
Gilligan’s Island
. Not that their circumstances were as slapdash and funny as those poor castaways.
Ash’s hooves rang hollowly on the industrial tile of the hallway as Promise led him–soft bridled and blanketed–to their classroom. From the day she’d found him, she had insisted that Ash deserved a place inside among the rest of the survivors.
A tan mutt ran up behind them–Lea’s terrier mix, Lady–and barked at the big horse. Ash snorted and threw his head up and down. Lady barked louder and ran past Ash to bark at the horse’s front, and Ash pawed the floor and snorted again. The dog stood on her hind legs, barking sharply, front paws waving. She was a small- to medium-sized dog, with oddly curly fur on her legs and ears while the rest was straight and wiry.
“Lady, stop,” Promise said, laughing. “He’s fine, isn’t he? I brought him back safe and sound…all one piece!” She ruffled the dog’s ears, and Lady gave her hand a quick lick and then sat staring up at Ash, her tail switching side to side in excitement.
Lady had already been at the high school when Ash arrived, and the little dog immediately loved the big horse with all her heart. She was devastated when Promise and Ash went out without her, but Promise wouldn’t put the dog in jeopardy. Not when there were so few good things–like dogs–left.
Ash lowered his nose, blowing gently, and Lady wiggled and shivered all over, licking his muzzle and pushing her body against his face and neck. Then Lady danced at Promise’s knees.
“Okay, but you won’t get much of a ride. We’re almost home.” She bent and lifted the squirming terrier onto the blanket on Ash’s back where she stood, legs braced, head up and grinning as she rode Ash down the hall.
Promise turned into 508, leading the big horse and his tiny rider. Lea looked up and smiled as they came in. She was sitting on her cot, and she still wore the flannel Mark had pulled for her last night in the safe house.
For the moment, only Promise and Lea shared the room–other people complained about the horse smell. The uncovered tops of the eight tall windows let the January sun steam in, and the classroom was bright and warm enough, as long as you kept on a few layers of clothes. In the summer, it would be unbearable.
The blackboard was riddled with snippets of poems that Lea wrote. The poems were entwined with flowers and vines and delicate-looking birds and butterflies. The style matched the painted flowers on Lea’s jean jacket.
“Oh, gosh,” she said and then huffed out her breathy little laugh. “Look at Lady!” She stood from the shoebox she’d been sorting through to lift Lady from Ash’s back. “Come on, silly girl. Come down from there.” Lady squirmed in Lea’s arms, licking her nose, until Lea put her gently on the floor.
Ash plodded to the back corner where Promise had stacked heavy mover’s blankets and dropped his nose into the bucket that hung from the wall. Lady sat nearby, shivering, and then burrowed into a corner of the blankets, nosing a place for herself where she could keep her shining brown eyes on Ash.
“Did you see the guy the Guard brought in?” Lea asked, capping the shoebox and sliding it under her cot. She’d cut a small square from the flannel and tucked it in with her other treasures. “Did you hear what everyone said about him?”
When they’d gotten to the high school that morning after their night in the safe house, Promise had looked for Mr. West. She’d wanted to tell him how she’d ridden into the woods and a vampire had chased her during daylight hours. It was unusual no matter how gloomy the woods had been.