Purge of the Vampires (Book 3): The Night Never Ends Read online

  Geronimo noticed that they did not strip the bodies of everything. They did leave some things behind. They left the remains of the dead lay among the fallen husks scattered on the dry ground. As Geronimo watched them pile the severed hands and feet over each other, he wondered why they left those body parts.

  Then, he thought about her.

  He thought about Justine and his stomach turned over and he became upset. He hoped that body that they cut into pieces was not her. She was a good person that had great ideas and a beautiful spirit. She deserve better than that. Why would anyone do that to such a gentle creature?

  Then, he wondered what they were going to do with the victim's body parts, once they slithered back from where they came to hide under the night. But, he reminded himself to not care. He could not care for the dead or the living. He couldn't, if he was going to survive.

  Then, he looked away and sat behind the tree unable to think of how to get out of this situation. He didn't want to think about what happened out there. However, it was difficult for him to get those images out of his dead. The world had changed even more that day. He had never witnessed anything so horrible since he had been out here on the road, traveling across the country. The farther he went east, the worst things got. Maybe going to Canada was a bad idea. But, what else was he to do? He had to try.

  Snap.

  Another a branch snapped in half and his eyes locked on the dark forest. The sound out there was the same sound that he heard, just moments ago. He raised his binoculars to his eyes and scanned the forest and everything looked still.

  Nothing.

  Then, he spotted Mark and Justine's camping equipment leaning against the tree truck, exactly where he left them. Their backpacks sat on the ground, leaning against each other, alone and untouched.

  Then, he heard the sound again and looked into the forest. But he did not know what the source of the sound was. He swept the depths of the forest with his binoculars and everything was still.

  There's nothing in the forest, he told himself. Nothing.

  24

  Everywhere The Severed Body Part Went, Blood Spilled

  Geronimo turned around to look back at the gruesome couple working in the wilting cornfield. Finally, the woman stood. But, he could not see her face. She faced away from Geronimo and he could not get a good look at her with the red hood over her head.

  Finally, it appeared like they were getting ready to leave. The fat man picked up the heavier bag and slung it over his shoulder. The woman grabbed onto the other plastic bag and dragged it away. A cloud of white dust rose off the ground. The couple headed toward the road.

  Finally, they were leaving and Geronimo was able to breathe easier.

  Then, Geronimo heard another sound coming from the forest. Again, it sounded like breaking branches. It came a second time. This time the sound became louder, as if it were getting closer to him.

  It felt like the wretched trees were starting to scream. Without his binoculars, he looked into the forest and saw a tree shaking a couple of yards away from his campsite. Soon, the trunk of the tree started to unravel and in one movement, it broke apart like a iceberg falling into the ocean. The splintered tree fell to the ground and shook the earth. It made a loud noise that echoed throughout the forest and over the field. Everything came down and the falling branches rattled against the ground, until everything eventually went dead.

  Once again, there was silence.

  Geronimo was sure that the loud crash of the tree got the attention of the gruesome couple that was about to leave.

  A swell of anxiety rose in his throat and his eyes wanted to pop out of their sockets. He turned back around with his binoculars toward the field and hoped that they were further away and closer to the road.

  He spotted the fat man and they weren't any closer toward the road. They had stopped in place to stare at the forest as it fell apart before their eyes. They stared with such delight, happy to see that the rest of the world fell apart, even more.

  Now there was only silence and Geronimo had his eyes trained on them, waiting for them to turn around and leave.

  But, they did not.

  The couple had sharp eyes and spotted a flash of sharp evening light reflecting off the glass of Geronimo's binoculars.

  They spotted him from behind the tree.

  25

  The Mad Woman Had Disappeared From Sight

  THE FAT MAN LOOKED IN GERONIMO'S DIRECTION AND SAID SOMETHING TO THE WOMAN BEFORE HE TURNED AROUND TO CONTINUE WALKING TOWARD THE ROAD. Again, he slung a black bag over his shoulder. This time he carried two bags. He dragged the other bag along the ground and a cloud of dust rose in his wake.

  Geronimo looked for the woman and she was nowhere near the man. She had disappeared from Geronimo's sight. The fat man walked alone, hauling away both bags full of body parts, hauling away the catch of the day. Only the road waited for him, now.

  Geronimo wondered what happened to the woman. He looked around the field and could not spot her. She had disappeared.

  A bad feeling moved through Geronimo's stomach and his hands started to sweat. He searched the field, tracing the edge of a mound of dead corn. He wondered if she hid behind one. but, he could not find her. So, he looked for a cloud of white dust.

  Then, he spotted Justine's red sweater against the paleness of the cornfield. The thin woman looked like a dark silhouette running his way. Now she was closer. He took another look at her. This time, he saw something hanging from her hand. She clutched a thing that no longer shined with evening light. The blade was covered in blood.

  But, it wasn't a machete. It was round sickle that she held in her right hand. She sliced through the stalk of corn as she ran through it. The woman wore Justine's hooded red sweater. As she sped toward Geronimo, the hood slipped off her head and her wild black hair bounced in every direction.

  This time, Geronimo was able to see her face. It was dirty and covered in streaks of blood. Silva dripped from her mouth. Her nose flared up with every breath she took. Her eyes were bloodshot. She ran through the field fast, like a wild animal with her sights set on her prey.

  26

  Every Good Dream Deserved To Live On

  Geronimo had no choice. He could no longer use the road to get to the next shelter before nightfall. On the open field, he knew that she was fast enough to catch up to him. And that would be the end of him.

  FEAR THE NIGHT AND SURVIVE, he thought.

  He placed the binoculars in his backpack and sprinted back into the forest, past the tree that just fell. Poor Justine, he thought. How could anyone do something like that to her? Or maybe, it was Mark. Maybe, she hid somewhere away, somewhere safe. Maybe she watched everything from a far. He hoped to see her again. He hoped to she her sweet emerald eyes and red hair.

  He blamed himself for her demise. He should have been more assertive with them. He should have never let his guard down for a second and now he was caught up in mayhem. He felt that he should have protected them better. Now, he paid the consequences. It was his fault and his alone.

  Halfway to he campsite, Geronimo pulled out a map. He searched the contour lines on the map, searching for a road that led to a house. He had to find shelter and hoped that he could find something and slip into it, before the night came. The rest stop was out of the question. Now, only an unholy evil stood between him and the road.

  Geronimo spotted on the map a small lake on the other side of the forest. Then, he saw a road that curved around the edge of the water, splitting off into smaller roads. In blue print, it said Round Tree Lake. It wasn't that far away. From the pitchfork shapes of the road, he knew there had to be a community on the other side of the forest. He could make it there before dark, if he ran fast enough.

  He looked at his wrist, as if he still carried his gold watch. But, he forgot that he no longer had it. All he knew was that he had to find a place to hide. He figured that he had less than an hour before the night descended upon upon the land.
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  The evening light broke through the forest, sideways.

  Before he was on his way, he ran toward the place where he camped with Mark and Justine. The leaves cracked underneath his feet. He climbed over and under the fallen branches of the forest. He got to the campsite and went for Justine's red bag. It was pinned down by a heavy branch.

  He pulled on the strap of the bag, hoping that it would slide out. It did not.

  Then, he heard the rabid woman coming after him. She ran entered the forest, making her way toward him with the sickle in her hand.

  It was difficult for Geronimo to open the backpack. He had to get it out, though. He went through it, pulling everything out, cans of food, bottles of water and a set of Justine's clothes. The more important stuff was at the bottom. The bag lost its bulk and he was able to pull it from underneath the heavy branch.

  Then, he heard the crackling of leaves, not too far away. He knew that the rabid headed straight for him.

  But, he could not leave it behind. He couldn't leave Justine's dream.

  He pulled the bag out and searched through it until he found exactly what he wanted. He found Justine's journal with her children's book folded in half. He grabbed onto the pages stapled together and he threw the journal on the ground. He grabbed onto all the pages with one hand and started to run as fast he could. Through the forest, he went.

  He couldn't bring himself to leave her dream.

  Mark was right. In this new world, we had to hold on to whatever kept us human or else we would turn into something worse, into those animals that hunted in the fields. Like the drawing of the cat that he had in his back pocket, Justine's idea was something worth fighting for. If we, as human beings didn't have something to believe in, then we were just animals. It was the land that carried our bodies. But culture carried our spirits. And that was more important now, even in this world.

  27

  Her Screams Sent A chill Up His Spine

  As Geronimo huffed and puffed through the forest, he knew that Justine deserved something more than to be chopped up into little piece. He believed that a part of Justine deserved to live.

  In a way, he held her child in his hands. It was the child that she could have. And he thought that maybe some one else in this world might live because of her work, because of her idea. If he survived the night, then he would try to finish the work that she started.

  Geronimo ran fast, cutting in between the trees. The dry leaves lifted off the heel of his boots. He heard the woman's footsteps behind him and it felt like she was closer. Then, he heard something screaming through the forest. her voice was inhuman. He didn't understand her at first.

  But he understood the second time. He heard her yelling after him.

  "Geronimo!"

  He wondered how she knew his name. The dry leaves on the trees rattled with her voice. Her screams sent a chill up his spine.

  As Geronimo cut through the middle of the forest, it was harder for him to breath. His chest started to burn with the cold air. But, he kept running as fast as he could.

  "Geronimo!"

  Geronimo thought about the magic hour when some people started to act as if they were controlled by something beyond this world. The night had made puppets and has sent them after him. It was strange, stranger than the night itself. It happened again, just as he spoke about it to Mark and Justine. The day was becoming as bad as the night, but in a different way.

  "Come back Geronimo! I'm sorry!"

  He paid no attention to her and kept running.

  "Geronimo! I'm sorry! I was a bad mother! Come back to me!"

  Just keep running, he told himself. Don't listen to her. It's not her.

  But, Geronimo had to rest before his lungs exploded. So, he stopped running for only a moment. He leaned against a tree. As he caught his breath, he looked back from where he came. He tried to listen to her footsteps. But, he did not hear anything, except for his own heavy breathing. Then, he heard her a faint voice.

  "Geronimo. Come back to me. I miss you."

  "Your not my mother!"

  Geronimo took off and started to run through the forest again. His shins started to hurt and he lost his breath. His head ached and he felt like he wanted to throw up. He figured that his lungs hurt from the smoke that he inhaled during the afternoon. It gave him trouble breathing. But, he could not stop running. He was sure that there was a lake up ahead. The map has never lied.

  "Come back to me, Geronimo! Don't you care about me?"

  Her voice sounded like a whisper, cutting through the shadows of the forest. He stopped to catch his breath again. This time, he screamed back at her.

  "You don't care about me. You've never cared about me!"

  But, Geronimo had to tell himself that it wasn't her. It was just her voice. It was the night who played tricks on him, trying to confuse him.

  Geronimo looked back to see if she was anywhere close to him. He saw nothing, except for the forest becoming darker. When he turned around, he saw the murderous woman emerge from the shadows.

  She had caught him by surprise.

  28

  The Moon Shall Rise and We Shall Watch Together

  She was a small thing, about five feet away and running toward him with the heavy sickle hanging in her right hand. She looked like a rabid animal with gritty teeth and and a snarling snout.

  Geronimo was frightened of her and backed up against the tree. There was no where else for him to go. She lunged at him and grabbed his neck. With her powerful hands, she sunk her nails deep into his flesh. Her hand felt colder than the air. Once she got a hold of him, she grinned. Her black hair was soaked in blood and sweat. It stuck to her face like paste.

  He smelled her breath and turned his face away. It smelled like rotting flesh.

  "I miss you Geronimo. Don't you miss me?" She whispered in his ear.

  "You not my mother."

  "Yes. It's me. Why did you leave me, Geronimo!"

  She pressed the tip of her sickle against his chest and she tore into his puffy coat. White feathers fluttered out as she ripped through it.

  "Your not my mother."

  "I am."

  "You're not."

  "I am.

  "No."

  "Come on Geronimo, I want us to sit together and watch the moon rise. Don't you?"

  Geronimo looked passed her evil eyes and saw in the distance the last ember of light falling silent. The forest darkened.

  Finally, she stopped speaking and raised her instrument of death to strike him in the face and split his head open. Then, Geronimo asked.

  "Why! Why did you kill her?"

  She thought about it for a second. She was tired. For a moment she looked normal, as she tried to figure out the answer.

  "I don't kill anyone, Geronimo. They're already dead."

  She brought the round blade down on his head. But Geronimo ducked and the blade took a chunk out of the tree. She brought the sickle back up in the air for another swing at him. This time she grabbed on to the wooden handle with both hands. At that moment, Geronimo pushed her back as hard he could and she tripped and fell onto the ground. The dry leaves cracked apart and the blade flew from her hand.

  Geronimo started running, again. He left her crawling on the ground, searching for her blade.

  29

  The House Upon The Lake

  Up ahead, Geronimo saw the reflection of the sky on the lake. He was close to the place called, Round Tree Lake. The sun was mostly gone. There was only a thin line of white at the horizon.

  He ran fast. But, she was not too far behind. His neck bleed and it hurt like hell. His legs shook and his muscles wanted to unravel. But he wasn't going to give up. Justine deserved better than that. Her dream deserved to live. He would keep something good in this world alive.

  He ran out of the forest and over the sullen grass. Then, he saw a house sitting on the lake.

  Don't give up.

  He ran toward the wooden house along the shore of the lak
e and up a gentle hill. The night approached fast and he had to get inside, somehow.

  On the ground floor, glass doors led to a living room in the bottom floor of the house. He banged on the glass door, hoping that some one was inside. But, he knew that no one would answer. There had to be away of getting inside without breaking the glass.

  If he broke the glass then, the night could enter. He looked through the sliding glass door and he saw the place filled with a thick layer of dust. The furniture was covered in cobwebs. It looked like no one had lived there for years.

  He climbed onto the wooden porch that wrapped around the house. He looked inside and saw the main floor. Inside, a flat screen TV in the living room was covered in dust. A model sailboats sat over the mantel of the fireplace.

  "Geronimo!"

  He turned around to look at the forest and saw her pale face emerge. She charged toward him with her blade in hand.

  30

  The Blade Darkened With The Coming Night

  Geronimo looked at the horizon and the day was gone. Now, the night was coming. He ran to the side of the house and tried to open the front door. Nothing. It was heavy and locked. He went to the paved drive way. The wide door of the garage was open.

  At the opposite end of the garage, he spotted a door that led inside the house. He made his way inside, through the shadows of the garage. He jumped over several go-carts and ran up a wooden plank toward the door. He turned the metal knob and it was locked.

  He heard the subtle sound of thunder in the distance. For a moment he looked out of the garage. The sun left and now the night was close.