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
Knowing that a vampire will keep me safe has
allowed me to wake up feeling refreshed and well-rested. You can
really underestimate how much a good night’s sleep does for the
mind and body until you have gone a few weeks without one. And you
definitely need to keep your mind sharp when setting traps or
scavenging for supplies. The Dead never sleep or think, they just
keep coming like bill collectors.
As other survivors wandered into our little
patch of hell, our community began to grow. At last I realized the
world was not going to change anytime soon; we chose to build a
more permanent fort, rather than a transient camp. The first month,
we erected an outer wall of sharpened steel — Cal insisted on
getting us metal panels from town instead of using wooden posts. We
celebrated a meager Christmas holiday by sharing a dinner of scraps
and working together all evening on the protective barrier. New
Year’s was spent replacing the chain-link fence section with a
sliding steel gate. It was rough work with the dry air sapping the
moisture from our hands; I began wearing gloves when Cal started
staring at my bleeding knuckles too intently.
Only in late afternoon and nightfall, would
we dare to hammer; it allowed the vampire to dispatch any roaming
Dead that found our makeshift home as we tapped with our
cloth-wrapped mallets. With each strike, I thought of helping my
family with building projects at the house; I held the pain and
tears inside as I redoubled my determination to survive this lost
world.
Over the next month and a half, we gained
three more people, a cabin, a large fire pit, a weapons chest, a
storage shed, and two outhouses. Our two species began to rebuild a
(mostly) living society.
By March, our community had grown to include
two more families and Caelinus assured the group children wouldn’t
be part of the donation schedule. The familiar Orlando humidity
rejoined us and I found it odd to be so comforted by the sensation
of drowning on dry land on a warm spring day. We started to plow a
field outside the North wall. All winter, Cal raided the nearby
city for provisions as we hunted, trapped, fished, and trained for
our new way of life; now we would provide for ourselves and arrange
for the next winter’s survival.
We lost a few that first winter to stupid
stuff like the flu, but the training Cal provided kept most of the
zombie-based deaths to a minimum. I can still see the look of
exhaustion and peace in Jorge’s eyes when he accepted his fate; he
knew what the fleshie’s bite meant and gave me a weak smile while
placing the Colt .45 to his forehead. The smoke from his pyre stung
my eyes even as the stink of his burnt remains brought me to my
knees retching.
The next month was a blur of mundane tasks,
interspersed with fleeing or combat. During the days, I’d help with
the food or training with my sword and bow. Evenings were spent
sitting around the glowing trench of embers and discussing our
plans or techniques for survival. Entering this life of a fresh new
night, or Nova Nocte (Cal’s term, but I especially like it), has
given me a new awareness for all the time I wasted drifting through
existence — content to be moderately average, if slightly
dorkish.
We only ever talked about our existence since
the Nova Nocte began; it’s as though we had no lives before that
day. No one asks about pasts, just the current day and maybe the
day beyond. People that tend to dwell on the past find themselves
surrounded only by shadows and misery. David was like that.
When I looked in David’s eyes, I knew he wasn’t going
to make it; he was dead when he found us, his body just hadn’t
caught up with the truth yet. It’s because of him that I stopped
learning names of the new people until I’m sure that they’re
determined to survive.
David was only fifteen; ordinary except for the
jewels he wore as eyes. The sadness in his face failed to hide the
glimmer of optimism for the world to right itself; his hopes
encased him as a shroud.
That morning the sky had pallor in place of its usual
hue. The shade covered the open field we cultivate and air was
oppressively still. I stood alert when I noticed the silence, where
the chirping of wrens and buzzing of dragonflies should have been.
The minuscule hairs on my body danced in anticipation of intruding
danger.
David appeared to be in the spin cycle of his
thoughts and unaware of the heaviness in the air. We trudged down
the path to check our fishing lines. I maintained the quiet as we
walked; my hand clutched my sword hilt while I surveyed the forest
edge.
It was the scream that tore the stillness apart. It
leapt above the trees and hung there for what felt like eons, until
the blood pounded the nauseating sound from my ears. My partner
sprinted towards the screeching without any hesitation. I drew my
weapon and followed, arriving moments after him.
Too many; there were way too many Dead for us. Nearly
a dozen of the fleshies were ripping and gnashing apart a small boy
who’d been trying to poach our line. The child’s shriek fell
hushed, as we came into view. It was too late to save the kid;
David had to know that. Still he charged in, swinging his axe at
the lumbering corpses like Paul Bunyan in a junior varsity
jacket.
The boy had already been devoured and dissected by
the time the young teen reached the assailants. David seemed
possessed by fury and grief, belligerently yelling at the zombies
who couldn’t understand him as he fought. It was as I called out to
him to run – drawing the fleshies’ attention away – that I saw
David fall.
He slipped sideways on what must have been a piece of
the kid; I was just close enough to hear the moist whoopee cushion
sound before the thud. The freshman scrambled to get to his feet,
and I saw the nearest zombie sink its pearly teeth into David’s
flailing arm. The zombie’s mangled braces reflected sunlight
between spurts of the teen’s blood.
I fled back to camp and left David behind. He’d been
dead the minute the world changed and seeing that bite made it
official. His enraged shouts tapered off before I reached the
gateway.
Chase was at the edge of the wall with some of the
others when I barreled up the hill. They made a move to follow the
trail, when I waved them off. Everyone understood and the
congregation sought out the relative protection of our walls.
Slingshots, bows, spears, and machetes materialized in each
person’s hands.
I hurriedly showed I was not infected. Grabbing a bow
and quiver on my way to the lookout platform, I joined several
other archers at the top. We spent the day — and nearly a hundred
arrows — fending off a mob of fleshies. By late afternoon, the
carcasses around our steel barrier were burned and all was calm
again.
When Cal arose from wherever he retired during the
days, he noticed the smoldering piles and extra guards on the
tower. Looking around for a minute, he asked,
“
What transpired today? Who hasn’t
returned?”
“
Some Dead attacked a boy down by one of our
lines. David and I got there too late. He went after them; I left
when he got infected.” I answered.
All eyes were downcast. The Roman breathed deeply
before he spoke again.
“
The lad’s equipment?” he asked.
“
There…there were over a dozen zombies near the
water,” I stammered out my explanation. “None of us wanted to
venture past the field after they came up to the fort. Dav…he had
his axe, knife, and not much else on him.” I suddenly felt like I
was ten and was busted by my Dad for not doing my chores.
Cal looked past me.
I hate when he looks through me like that; feels like
the grim reaper is checking his appointment book.
“
I will be back shortly. I’m going to check if
there is anything to salvage of his belongings and clear out any
other Dead nearby. Go through the boy’s other possessions in case
there is anything the community can use. Tomorrow is another day;
we start anew right now.”
With these muted words, the vampire flew over the
wall and we returned to our normal duties. Sunny and a few of
others began boiling water and cutting plants for dinner. A handful
of bass fried in a pan as the heads went into the water for stew.
The scent wafted over, driving away the stench of burnt zombie
remains, as Chase and I changed the subject to methods of
accurately aiming our blows with different blades.
The few parents in our bunch were getting their kids
ready for bed; deflecting the questions about the day’s events. The
children were afraid of monsters in the darkness and no one would
be able to tell them monsters weren’t real. The littlest girl cried
for David and asked when he would be back to eat us. I was thankful
not to be that parent and went to gather the teen’s stuff.
Over the next few weeks, the camp fell back
into a rhythm. More traps were set — as much for food as for
protection — and we checked them daily. Our gardens were yielding
carrots, tomatoes, and herbs; Sunny even found a small grove of
oranges and guava a bit west of the fort. Most of us had become
adept at fishing and hunting, supplementing our groceries with
raids into the city. For a short time, we even had vitamins and
power bars from a Walgreen’s to keep our energy up.
A handful of other wanderers joined our camp.
It didn’t seem that we had any major stresses; it began to feel as
though our lives had always been this way. And then it all came
crashing down – literally.
The sounds of treetops cracking and a string
of obscenity-laced gibberish interrupted the party for Ellen’s
seventh birthday. The stars were just coming out as the cloak of
night faded to a deep violet. The fire was kept just large enough
to light the festivities. Chase was carving up some of the assorted
waterfowl for dinner while Sunny pilfered snatches of egret
wing.
Our entire assemblage was on alert as the
pale figure plummeted into an outhouse screaming “Son of a doxy
fish-monkey bastard!”
Instantly, Cal was next to the gaping hole of
filth, armed with his fangs and a Terminator glower. Out of the
waste, a young man climbed; his leather jacket and jeans thoroughly
plastered with rancid muck. The strange vampire grimaced, as he
stood upright and looked at himself, arms out in disgust.
Finally, he noticed Caelinus was only an
arm’s reach away and the rest of the camp was staring at him. We
all bore a weapon, except for Ellen who still had a present in her
hands and a bejeweled princess tiara askew on her forehead. She
blinked her azure eyes several times before dropping the gift and
latching on to her mother; that particular Mom Glare could have
stopped a bullet better than Superman.
I struggled not to giggle at the look of
embarrassment on the poop-covered intruder looking at our birthday
royalty as though he expected the girl to yell ‘off with his
head’.
The outsider put his hands in his pockets,
sunk his head down and mumbled,
“Uh, hi everyone. Sorry about the landing,
I’m still pretty new to this whole flying biz and an owl kind of
startled me. I see you already have a vampire here so, um, cool. I
guess he probably already has dibs. Nice crown princess, very
sparkly. You guys enjoy your festivities. I’m just going to wander
over to that river and tidy up.”
Is this really happening or has the summer
heat knocked me out and I’m in a weird dream?
I felt my hip for my sword and drew it. I
noticed other hands bing wiped on jeans to keep the weapons from
slipping in the layer of sweat. The intruder was inching backwards
now; we continued to stare at him like a sideshow attraction. Chase
looked like a lumberjack with his axe held so resolute in front of
his chest and Sunny was standing perkily next to him, grinning like
a jack-o-lantern at the sudden entertainment; her spear was
nonetheless steady in her stony grip.
He rambled more rapidly.
“If it’s cool with the group, I’d like to
come back later and maybe join you. I’ll absolutely fix your
crap-house, of course. My name is Daemon by the way. So, um…yeah.
Nice to meet everyone and sorry about disrupting the fun time. See
you soon.” Daemon paused to glance around. “Unless of course I
should run, in which case just let me know so I can get a head
start and wash the goop off first.”
I burst into laughter (along with a few
others). Daemon resembles a 1980s rocker Lestat but clearly had the
grace of Jack Black; his pale, toned flesh is offset by his long
black locks and piercing green eyes. He stopped his
advance-to-the-rear motion and smiled; Cal even smirked a bit
himself.
Cal spoke first.
“It will be up to the humans here and you
would have to follow the rules we live by, but I am agreeable to
discussing the options with you. For now, I will lend you fresh
clothing and walk with you to the stream and back.”
Caelinus led the newcomer away through the
large sliding gate, stopping only to sprint into his storage for an
outfit. By their stances, they appeared a father and son strolling
through a stadium entrance.
While the vamps were away, the celebration
was concluded and an impromptu town meeting took place. Ellen and
the other two children were sent to bed with their plates and their
parents hurried back out to have their say in the matter set before
our group.
As soon as the two couples returned, Chase
began.
“Alright everyone, we have some things to
consider. We’d have a lot to gain by having a second vampire in our
community: raids into town, security at night, and even simple
chores around camp would be more efficient with Daemon here. That
is if we all agree to his presence. Conversely, it would also mean
more blood would need to be donated.”