Purge of the Vampires Page 3

  Throughout the ride, James tried to pay no attention to him. He tried not to give the dead man any energy.

  For a while, James kept his eyes on Jesse. He noticed that there was something on Jesse's mind, the way he fidgeted with those keys in his hand. He was sure that Jesse was thinking about James and why their paths had crossed, again.

  Why now?

  James knew that everything has its reasons. And soon or later, Jesse would know his.

  As the inmates got closer to Island City, Jesse looked back at James. He watched James sitting alone, away from the other inmates. James looked away whenever Jesse turned his head. Every time, James noticed him mulling something over in his head. Maybe, Jesse was thinking about something to asking James. Or he must have been thinking about how strange James looked, sitting there all by himself, looking into the distance. He stared out the window with those eyes that were so different from everyone else.

  James was a bit surprised that Jesse wasn't used to them yet because this was their third morning out to the pier.

  Anyways. James saw something roaming through Jesse's head. But, Jesse knew that James would never answer a question that he did not want to answer. James proved that back at the prison with Lou's brother.

  Besides, James didn't need to explain himself to him or anyone else on this bus. He did what he did because he needed to find her and that was all. There was no reason to explain what he was doing on that pier every morning. They were only in the way.

  Besides, Jesse wouldn't understand him.

  No one would. Not until, it was too late.

  "You know those are mine, James. Mine! And you're going to give them to me, right now! Or I'm going to knock you in the head."

  James kept staring out the window.

  THE PRISON BUS CROSSED OVER TO ISLAND CITY. The neighborhood was on a small and narrow peninsula in the Bronx. It was recently ravaged by a flood that went 150 feet inland. Over time, the level of sea water fell. A battalion of city workers walked over the shore, wearing rain coats and holding clip boards. They fanned out over the shore, examining the wreckage.

  As James looked at the buildings, they felt hollow, as if all life inside them were sucked out. Most of the stores on both sides of the main commercial strip were abandoned. The homes along the shore were still partly flooded from the hurricane.

  Without anywhere to go, people remained in their homes, in whatever place that was above the water. The City had been slow to do anything and they only came at the problem with excuses. All that they said was that there was another storm the way, next month. There wasn't much that they could do.

  Everything along the shore was ruined, except for the pier. Somehow, the pier was sheltered from the wrath of the night. For three nights, the rain fell. Some of the streets were covered in a thick layers of mud, mud so deep that it was possible for anyone to lose their shoe just by trying to cross the street. The hurricane had pretty much obliterated the neighborhood with a two foot swell in sea level. The water had receded and left disaster in its wake.

  Through the windows of the bus, James watched the poor children scamper through the streets, trying to make whatever commerce they could. When the prison bus stopped at the red light, the children ran toward it.

  "Ice cream for sell!" The children screamed, as if they were in a third world country.

  The children banged on the outside of the bus. In their hands, they carried several small bags of frozen ice, flavored with color dye and a little bit of sugar. This was what they called ice cream. I laughed at how stupid they were. They pounded their dirty little hands on the folding door of prison bus and it rattled in place. All those kids hoped that the driver or the guard would buy something from them.

  "Ice cream!" They yelled into the overcast sky, as loud as they could.

  But, Jesse and the driver paid no attention. There heads remained forward, ignoring the gutter punks as best as they could. Finally when the bus left, the children continued selling their wares. They were not discouraged the indifference of the guard. Instead, they ran to other side of the intersection to surround the next car that stopped at the red light.

  Jesse watched the children disappear in the side view mirror. Throughout the whole time, the driver was indifferent about the children. James could tell that he didn't like going to the pier.

  The driver who was black and tall. He hid his face under a pair of aviator glasses.

  Every once and a while, Jesse looked back at the inmates and they sat at the very back of the bus, always away from James. Whenever Jesse took them to the pier, there was one inmate that always preoccupied his mind the most. And that was James.

  James was a freak, thought Jesse. And that's all he was. Lou, the inmate was right.

  Anyone could tell by looking at James that he was a bit strange and different. The whole ride over to Island City, Jesse kept staring at James eye's, wondering what this world had turned him into.

  While Lou stared at James from the other side of the bus, the prisoners talked about what James did to get caught and sent to prison. They did didn't know the details. But, there were rumors buzzing throughout the cell block. There was one rumor that arched above the rest. It had something to do with the warden's daughter. All they knew was that her name was Grace. That was all that they knew about anything.

  Since James arrived at prison, the other inmates were always careful when dealing with him. The inmates, as well as the guards were warned to stay clear of him. With that kind of protection, the inmates knew that he was different from every one else. Anyone could see it, if they looked at him for a long time. They could see his eyes.

  James didn't bother to hide them, not anymore.

  It was his eyes and weren't normal. His eyes were strange, almost colorless. They frightened whoever saw into them. And many tried.

  His eyes that had been that way since that time he walked with his mother by the cemetery.

  James didn't care about how much the prisoners speculated about him. The only thing that bothered him on the ride over to Island City was the dead man sitting in the seat behind him. James couldn't wait to get those shoes off his feet. He would go barefoot, when he had the chance.

  The pier was up ahead and James was sure that he would find the girl, today. He could feel it in his bones and his excitement rose. He was told that he would find her, today, on the third day.

  4

  Some Time Between Friends

  THE BUS TURNED DOWN A SIDE STREET THAT RESEMBLED A WIDE ALLEY AND THE TIRES OF THE PRISON BUS CAME TO A DEAD STOP. Jesse slid out of the folding doors and went to unlock the chain-linked fence that gated the pier. There was a metal sign on the fence and it read:

  Property of Department of Correction.

  All violators will prosecuted.

  The gate protecting the pier was locked with a thick chain. The padlock was as big as Jesse's hand. He switched through the keys of the metal ring to find the one that unlocked the gate. But, it was not there. Then, Jesse remembered that earlier in the morning he unhooked the key from the rest of the ring and slid it in his pocket, for safe keeping. He wanted to keep the key close. Soon after, he placed his hand inside his slacks to retrieve it.

  Instead, he pulled out a lime green post-it note.

  The note glowed against the paleness of the day. It was folded over and worn. Every time, he saw that note, he remembered that he was suppose to follow it to the letter.

  There was no way of getting around it.

  Jesse had to do as the note asked because his wife and daughter depended on it. The neighborhood he lived in depended on it. Every day at breakfast and at church, his family reminded him of his responsibilities and the warden made sure to reinforce that same message at work. At the prison, it was easy to manipulate the imaginations of the guards, to make them obey.

  How the warden whispered into the ears of a guard's family was simple. Everywhere, he went he moved like the devil, slow and careful. He crafted a plan, something t
hat he could be proud of. Eventually, the warden owned the local priest who held a candlelight mass at a nearby church.

  At the prison, the warden wrote the priest's name across the flap of a brown manila folder. It was a file that he would kept with the others in the steel cabinet behind him. Gradually, he found out that the priest was someone who he could take to the bar. He knew that the priest would fall.

  By doing this, the warden now had control of something else outside the prison. He had the church.

  At church, everyone noticed the Warden staring at the priest with a great smile and deep adoration. Every Sunday, the warden stared at the priest, admiring his own creation. At church, everyone could see the warden's commitment to the community.

  Every sunday, there were a group of families at church, praying for all the prison guards who wore their uniforms during the service and sat in the first couple of pews that were reserved for only them.

  With that, the warden had done it. He had torn the commonness of the congregation in two and sense of equality among men had fallen away, unnoticed.

  The church had changed before their very eyes and no one said anything. But, they knew nothing else. All they knew was the church.

  With his captured audience, the warden moved like the devil, slow and careful, like a preying animal. As he looked at a statue of Jesus Christ, he thought about how he had replaced God with something else. He smiled when he thought of it. He had replaced God with a mythical sense of honor and public worth, the kind of worth that he controlled.

  The warden looked back at his congregation, as all the guards were wished a safe return home after work. In return, the guards wished their families a good life. Then, the guards made the sign the cross and church was over.

  The guards walked outside the church like brothers, watching over each other as they passed through the middle of the congregation, for a final time. Pass the marble columns of the front door, they waited for their wives and children.

  Everyone smiled under the bright noon sun that day.

  With warden's message carved out in the routine of the church, the warden had won the trust of the congregation. That was all the warden needed to help him justify everything he accomplished inside the prison. With the communities blessing, he justified all the money that he squeezed out of the bars of the prison

  In Elmhurst, Queens, most of the guards lived close to one another and watched each other's back.

  The Warden and his inner circle lived on the best block in the neighborhood. It felt like a community unto itself. There homes were fashioned with large manicured lawns and ancient oak trees rising from the grass. But most importantly, there was no trash sitting on the sidewalk. Instead, the garbage bins were kept in the rear of the homes. It was the only block in the area to have an alley and the residents were proud of that fact.

  It was through the connections of the Warden that Jesse got to live on the same block with his family.

  Jesse lived in a picture perfect tudor style house with his wife and two kids. He had come a long way, since the days he followed James to New York City.

  That was a time in his life, when he himself was lost.

  As Jesse unlocked the gate to the pier, he thought about how loyal he used to be to his friend James. For a moment, he looked at the bus where James sat. He stared at the rusted shell of the bus and he knew that the day was not going to turn out good. Once he opened those gates, it would be over for James.

  About ten years ago, Jesse tracked James from Chicago to New York City. They were once close childhood friends. But one night, out of the blue, James had suddenly disappeared, while they were in high school. That day, Jesse had lost someone that was like his brother. That night James never came back home.

  James family was devastated by the loss. But, James did not care. He had to get away and that was all that he thought about. There was a times when Jesse thought that the night had taken James away and that was all. But, Jesse knew better.

  After a couple weeks of verifying James's missing person's certificate, he found out that James had bribed the agent to falsify the document. In the end, Jesse ended up following James to to Queens, New York. He found James working at various low-paying jobs, trying not to be noticed.

  Then, Jesse confronted him, one day in the street, underneath the shadow of flickering train tracks. It was cold that day and James wore a hood with a cap underneath. They almost covered his eyes.

  "What are you doing James?"

  "Nothing."

  "What are you doing, out here?"

  "Nothing."

  "Your sister is worried. They're all worried."

  James looked up at Jesse and walked away without saying anymore. Then, Jesse grabbed James's arm.

  "Get your hands off me!" James snapped.

  "You need a friend, James."

  "I don't need anything."

  "I'm sorry. But I can let you waste your life away like that."

  "It's not a big deal."

  "I'm still your friend, James. I am."

  James kept looking at his arm until, Jesse finally released his grip.

  It was here when Jesse first noticed James's eyes. They weren't black. They were brown. He was about to say something about it, when James turned away. As, James walked away, Jesse called out his name. Soon, another train passed overhead.

  And James kept walking, until he disappeared in the crowd.

  Jesse never found out what happened to James, that day. he never found out that about a year before, the night had taken James's friend. It had decimated him. But, James couldn't speak to Jesse or anyone else about that. Anyway, it was better for James to stay numb and walk through life without getting involved with anything out there.

  After that time underneath the train, Jesse tried to maintain a consistent relationship with James. But, James never responded.

  But after awhile, Jesse gave up. There was only one fact that Jesse realized.

  James, his childhood friend was dead.

  It was a small group composed of two Spanish speaking women. After roaming the streets, he went to a small brick church and found women with their arms opened wide. The two old ladies from church helped Jesse realize that thinking about James was not healthy for him. The woman told him that James was being selfish. But most importantly, everyone had their own journey to follow, even him. They reminded him that he had to start his journey.

  "Family is important." The old Spanish women told him.

  So Jesse moved from Chicago to New York to chase the man that was once like a brother. A long time ago, they were close friends. But now, James was too busy drowning in his head in self-pity to see Jesse's helping hand. James no longer listened to reason and never felt the need to explain his disappearance to anyone, especially Jesse. When Jesse was there, all James had to do was open his heart and Jesse would have helped him to get his life back together. But, James was too self-destructive. James had turned into a road that went nowhere.

  It was important that Jesse now follow his own path. Jesse stayed to in New York City to see where his life would lead him. He met people on the street, stopping to eat at the local meat cart. Most of the people he met were brown skinned and spoke Spanish. Jesse had a pale skinned complexion. But, he spoke Spanish, just as well. Everyone, he spoke to reminded him of the church. After a couple weeks of looking where to fit in, he stepped inside the doors of the church.

  While he sat in the pew by himself, he thought that the church would be a good place to fit in, until something better came along. So every Sunday, he went to church and took part in various community program that the priest and the warden sponsored.

  And after a while, it came time for Jesse to forget about James and start his own life.

  Now, Jesse needed something else to throw his loyalty at. After a couple of month, he found a job. Through his connections at the church, he found an entry level position at the prison. The interview went over smoothly because he was already connected.. Some of
the people at the church vouched for him and another person had god-fathered him through the interview process. Over time, Jesse did well at the prison and moved up quickly.

  Soon after, he met his wife and had two girls, Sylvia and Sarah. He loved those girls and promised that nothing bad would happen to them.

  In the end, Jesse ended up having a good life on the outside of the gates of the prison, one that he was proud of.

  With a family and a job, he soon forgot about James and he went about filling his life with people that loved him. His wife and two daughters made sure of that. In that time, he no longer thought about James again.

  Not until, three days ago, when James walked into the prison. The bastard was now in the last place that Jesse ever expected him to be.

  WHEN JAMES WALKED INTO RIKER'S PRISON, HE WAS ESCORTED INSIDE BY A GAURD. AT THE TIME, HE WAS CHAINED TO TWO PRISONERS. ONE WALKED IN FRONT OF HIM AND THE OTHER IN BACK OF HIM. The inmates talked about him. But, he ignored them.

  James was through running away from anything. It was only a matter of of time before Jesse became aware. Jesse thought about his friend has he worked at his desk, under a single light. His office was small, but cosy. It was as if everything outside his office had fallen away. There was a lime green post-it note on his desk and he did as it said.

  Over the years, Jesse's heart had hardened. His loyalty went to to his family now and his only job was to provide for his wife and children. They all lived in a beautiful brick house and on a safe block. He made sure the police swung by his house, every once and awhile, to make sure everything was okay. He made sure that the night did not intrude in his world. Jesse loved his wife and children and he would have done anything to keep them from jeopardy. That meant following the note on his desk, to the letter.