The New Night Novels (Book 1): Rippers: A New Night Novel (19 page)

     The vampire approached from the back room. Two lanterns illuminated the space. There was a door that shut off the entryway from the communications room, and another that led to the room where Jameson often slept during the day. Caution was a lesson they had all learned well, in its varied forms, throughout the years of being ruled by the Grissom virus and its victims.

     “Holy shit, J, we have contact,” Phoebe hissed. “Someone must have repaired the tower. The damn system is back up!”

     Phoebe depressed the button on her radio and spoke into the handheld speaker.

     “This is safe zone 264 seeking outside assistance. I repeat, safe zone 264 in need of help. Does anybody copy? Over.”

     After Leland had brought another vampire, Ramses, into their safe zone more than three years before, they’d been informed of their place as the 264
th
compound that had withstood the Ripper flood. There certainly weren’t two hundred and sixty-four safe zones still standing, but the previous numbers had been retired when their assigned compounds fell to the Rippers.

     “Do you really need to say ‘over’?” Jameson asked jokingly as he sat beside her.

     Phoebe shushed him and sat still as she waited with held breath for someone to respond.

    
“Yes, we copy you, 264.” The voice on the other line came through strong and steady. Phoebe nearly passed out in her relief and excitement. “We’ve just had one of our towers repaired,” the male on the other end of the radio continued. “We should have an open line of communication from this point on. Please tell us your status. Over.”

     Phoebe’s voice went soft with worry as she spoke to the other safe zone.

“We’re all humans here except one,” she informed the other safe zone. By now, vampires had made their presence well known to the remaining humans. Any safe zone that still operated owed their success to having a vampire on board. “We have no supply runners, no guards, and our barricades are weakening. I don’t…I think they might get through soon.”

     It took Phoebe a moment to end her assessment of their status with the word, “Over.” She knew it probably wasn’t what the other safe zone wanted to hear. Their communications had been down for years. Having it back up was fantastic, but the thought that it might be too late gnawed at everyone involved in the conversation.

     “Hang tight, 264,” the voice on the other line urged. “We’ll get someone to you soon. Keep your line open and call if you need us. We’ll help if we can. Over and out.”

     Phoebe sighed and placed the broadcaster piece back on its holder on the small, square, black radio.

     “I’m going to go walk the wall a little bit,” she told Jameson. “Talk to them if they get back with us and have questions or something.”

     Jameson nodded and retreated to the back room until he heard Phoebe close and lock the outside door. When she was gone and the sun was cut off from his space, he returned to the radio to sit for the day.

     Phoebe saw Carmen running toward her as she exited the communications building and squinted in the bright sunlight. Pebbles, the little brown mutt who’d been rescued just outside the wall a little less than three years back, nipped playfully at Carmen’s heels.

     The dog, more than anything else, had brought Carmen fully out of her shell. She’d blossomed, just as the safe zone had blossomed. And now, Phoebe worried, she might be snuffed out along with it.

     “Found Pebbles, Mama Phoebe,” Carmen said, a little out of breath. “Love your face.” Carmen had problems expressing emotion, and she didn’t say, “I love you,” to anyone at all. The most anyone got was that she loved some part of them.

     Phoebe was told her face, hair, eyes, and brain were loved more often than anyone else. She would take that over the girl’s sometimes silent, and even less oftentimes violent moods.

     Phoebe climbed up the lookout railing that had been built into the walls over the years. When she stood on the top one, her shoulders came up over the top of the fifteen foot wall and she could look over.

     What she saw was not encouraging.

     Rippers. An increasingly large horde of them; a hundred deep in some places. At night, when their strength and ferocity came, they clawed and punched at the walls. The attack tactic had been mostly ineffective up until that point, but the people she trusted agreed they would get through sooner or later.

     There were people behind the walls to be protected at all costs. Phoebe knew she couldn’t let the safe zone fall. She’d called for help, but help might not come. She wanted to talk to Jameson and Leland, who had been safely back for almost four years.

     After she’d hopped down from the wall, Phoebe met Leland at Elise’s grave. He went there often, as all members of the original group did. Art stopped by every now and again, and Gerry and Jenn had given their baby daughter Elise and Crystal’s names. Crystal Elise Woodard had been born six years before, and she often visited the mirror atop the grave of her namesakes, as well. Between them, Elise and her family had not been forgotten.

     “I was able to contact another safe zone and let them know about our situation,” Phoebe told Leland.

     He nodded. “That’s good. We need help soon, or they’re going to break through.”

     “We can’t just depend on them to save us,” Phoebe said. “We need to make a plan.”

     Leland touched the words in permanent marker on the mirror that indicated Elise’s grave. In the ten years since the community had been built, seven other graves had been dug alongside hers. He didn’t want there to come a time when there would be no one left to dig others; nor did he want there to be bodies needing them.

     “Hope endures all,” he quoted before turning to look at Phoebe. Her hazel eyes weren’t soft anymore. They were as steely as her will when they locked on his.

     “Hope can wait,” she said. “
We
endure all.”

END OF BOOK ONE

Please look forward to
Seeking
, the next book in the New Night Novels!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ashlei Hawley is a writer of paranormal, erotic, and horror novels. She is the author of All Purpose Exorcisms- Book One of the Cameron Connelly series, Seared, Pierced, and Scorched of the Pain & Love set, A Whisper In the Dark, and the New Night Novels.

Ashlei lives in close proximity to her amazing family with her son and his father. She awaits the zombie takeover or other apocalyptic event with some excitement; though she feels woefully unprepared for such an occurrence.

Please find Ashlei’s work at amazon.com/author/ashleihawley

She also occasionally posts synopses, ramblings, and short stories to ashleidaylen.wordpress.com

Her author Facebook page can be found at https://www.facebook.com/authorashlei