From the perspective of Chase Cringle.
I awoke with a jolt, terrified. I sat up and I peeked out of the living room window, through the curtains. I thought the werewolves might still be outside, but they seemed long gone. Not a single werewolf in sight.
I decided to open up the living room curtains and let some light in. The light was blinding and sobering. "Shit, that's bright," I said to myself as I shielded the light from my eyes.
For breakfast I ate asparagus straight from the can, utilizing the pocket knife I had found last night.
Once I finished eating, I tossed the can aside. I began to ponder my future. What purpose did I serve? And why did the Hart Clan hire me as their recruiter? Perhaps Gene knows more about me than I know about myself.
My ribs pressed deep against my skin, as if they were bursting through. Hunger ruled my thoughts. Human food would not satisfy me. My stomach roared and groaned. I required blood.
I shuffled around the apartment, until the sun rose to its apex in the sky, at which point I had gathered the motivation to fill a dusty backpack with the last few cans of food from the pantry. I meandered out of the apartment to wander the premises for half an hour to absorb the quaint scenery. I only checked some of the units for valuables, and I skipped the units whose doors were open.
In one of the units, at the very end of my scavenging spree, I discovered a stainless steel wrist watch in the top drawer of an antique oak dresser. I clasped the watch to my wrist, and I raised it up to the sunlight bleeding through the dusty bedroom window. The watch glistened with a fine luster, free of dust. I didn't know the actual time of day, so I set the watch to 12:00 P.M..
As I exited the front door, I was hammered by the tall shimmering emerald-green grass that was thrashing in the intense wind. The sky was the most vivid turquoise-blue, and the warmth of the sun rejuvenated my fair skin.
I left the apartment complex, walked down the road, and I crossed the highway to reach the quaint wooded valley on the other side.
The bright morning sun and the energy in the air had me exhilarated. I rushed and weaved through the tall golden broomsedge, I wallowed in the shallow puddles from the brief heavy rainstorm the night before, then I masked my face with clay, then I basked in the sun for an hour before washing myself in the crystal clear waters of a nearby river. For nearly three minutes I held my breath under the water, then I broke through the surface to meet the blinding sun above. I was still human, in some respects. But I was also a fledgling, a fresh, young, naive vampire.
I noticed that, from my pocket, the opalescent acorn rose to the river's surface, floating downriver. I couldn't let it get away.
I swam fast, faster than the current to catch the acorn before it was swept downstream. I caught the acorn just before it washed over a slate waterfall.
I trudged to the river's edge. Twenty paces from the river I made a hole in the earth, with the help of my pocket knife, and I planted the enigmatic acorn into the earth with the image of the dead girl from yesterday in my mind.
Adalyn's translucent apparition appeared seemingly from nowhere, standing solemn next to me. Her thin, long creamy blonde hair swayed in the gentle breeze. Beads perspiration trickled down her face and neck.
Adalyn spoke first. "You know what's weird? There's only a few vampires that can travel to the Nether. You're one of them. You're a lucky guy."
"That's crazy," I replied, truly intrigued. "You must be Adalyn?"
The apparition nodded. "Wanna know something else? Spirits like me don't have a body here on Earth. But, in the Nether, us spirits have a body. All of us spirits can travel back and forth between Earth and the Nether at will, just like you. But not all vampires have the power to walk in both the Earth Realm and the Nether Realm. Humans, though, are confined to Earth. The undead may seem to have more freedom than the living, but there's no such thing as freedom when you're a spirit. I may be able to go where I please, as I please, but what's the use if I can't touch the one I love."
"You mean me?" I asked.
"Of course, you, silly. Who else would I be referring to?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I dunno. I lost my memory, so I don't really remember you at all." I then attempted to soothe Adalyn's woes. "I will come back every 10 years to this exact place, and I will visit with you every time I come back here. I swear. You bring me comfort. And… I hope I bring you comfort, as well."
"You're just saying that, you flirt."
"No, I mean it. I won't forget you. I don't know who you are, but you're amazing. I'll definitely come back here. Again and again."
Adalyn chuckled softly, nearly giggling, as she put her hands up to her face in embarrassment. "You really won't forget to visit me?"
"I promise."
"You will always be my friend."
"Who was I to you before I became this monstrosity?"
"You were my husband; for a day."
I froze in astonishment. "Only for a day? What happened?"
Adalyn lifted her hand gently, as if reaching for my hand to grasp. I was saddened, for I knew Adalyn could not touch me. I was a human; She was a spirit. But, for a brief moment, Adalyn wasn't a spirit, and we held our hands together. I was completely mesmerized, so mesmerized that I pulled away in shock, believing what I had seen couldn't be for real. Then, desperately, I endeavored to reach out my other hand to gently grasp Adalyn's head to pull her close, and, much to my disappointment, my hand phased through her phantom body. No. This is wrong.
Adalyn shut her eyes in contemplation. "I was murdered by another vampire. He's still on the loose. As for you, you became a vampire and lost your memory. It wasn't totally your fault, though. If it wasn't for me being murdered, you would have never accepted Gene's offer to make you a vampire. How long has it been? Twenty-four hours on Earth is about fifty-nine years in the Nether. So, I died, and you became a vampire, and you signed allegiance to the Hart Clan, all in less than twenty-four hours. But for me it was more than half a century in the Nether. I just recently discovered how to travel back and forth between Earth and the Nether. I've spent nearly fifty-nine years pondering what you did. I'm not saying I forgive you, but I don't blame you for wanting to sell yourself to a vampire lord. You gained the power to change the world, to change the course of history, if you wanted. Just look at yourself." Adalyn feigned a smile, but could only shake her head. "Vampires have a bad record, Chase. I'm half terrified of what you've become."
"That's more than I needed to know." I grimaced with the weight of all the sudden news. I was sick of myself, regretting the fateful decision.
Adalyn continued to berate me. "What will you do as a vampire?"
"I'm a recruiter for the Hart Clan. I will continue to recruit, even though I haven't recruited anyone yet."
"Ahh. So you get to make more vampires." Adalyn sighed. "How nice."
"I became a recruiter for the Hart Clan to join them in their vision of uniting humans and vampires. Their goal is to provide sanctuary to both races. You have heard about the Vampyr Empire, right? They're attempting to overtake FEF United. Not only does the Hart Clan want them gone, but the FEF and Vampyr Society as well. I'm gonna help get rid of the Vampyr Empire, and I'm gonna help bring order to this chaotic world of ours. What other use do I serve?"
"I understand your reasoning, Chase. I just couldn't have done what you did. I was on a mission for the FEF, and I got to know one of the youngest of the Eight Fangs."
"And I'm Eight Fang's priority target. I'm a recruiter for the Hart Clan. The Eight Fangs want me to vanish, so that the Hart Clan will cease to grow."
"You know I hate vampires, Chase!" Adalyn shouted in frustration, but she quickly cooled down. "That's why I was working for FEF East. On my last assignment, I came to Kentucky. I was searching for a special seed that can grow into a promethean tree. It's a tree with rainbow-colored leaves. The sap of this tree can grant any human increased longevity. I found one seed. One. Your dumbass planted it in the wrong spot! Oh well. I guess it will be okay here. I'll look after this promethean tree, so long as life goes on."
"Adalyn. I'm sorry for my mistakes. But I must do what, in my heart, feels right. I need to help unite humans and vampires, not create a larger barrier between the two. It wouldn't be right for me to stand by as the world succumbs to the Vampyr Empire. I'll do everything in my power to kill every last member of the Eight Fangs."
"There's the Chase I used to know."
There was a rumble in the distance, and the ground beneath me vibrated.
Adalyn bent forward and whispered in my ear. "I believe you have some company, dear. Hide. Now."
Adalyn ambled straight through my body, disappearing entirely, leaving no trace of her presence.
I pondered for a moment. Why would I need to hide? I'm a vampire. But my gut agreed with Adalyn. I did as she had instructed.
I was drenched, slightly cold, and looking for a place to take cover when I heard the distinct sputter of a semi-truck. Quickly, I grabbed my shirt and threw it over my head and arms, and I fled behind the array of trees by the highway, as a pearly white semi barreled forward about two hundred yards down the road, with thick smoke plumes billowing from the soot-stained exhaust, my silver shoulder-length hair dense and dripping.
I hid behind a century-old five-feet high stone and mortar wall. I kicked away all of the dead leaves on the ground, while fresh creek water trickled from my head down to my toes.
The long eighteen-wheeler broke sharply on the center line, halting abruptly, skidding for several feet before it came to a complete stop. The young, lean driver turned off the engine and opened the driver's side door, then he jumped down onto the asphalt. I was intrigued by his foot-long curly golden blonde hair that flowed like a cascading waterfall over his brawny shoulders. His belt buckle was a gold-plated lightning bolt, and his clothes consisted of an Iron Maiden T-shirt, faded olive black jeans, black leather boots, and an 18 inch black barrel protruding from his sepia leather scabbard. His face was angular, with a sharp chin. His gait was remarkably subtle, seeming to glide over the blacktop. He peered into the distance, carefree and confident, unbeknownst of my presence behind the rock wall.
I turned my gaze away. I prayed that the rebel didn't come walking toward the crumbling wall. I began to hyperventilate, and my eyesight faded for a moment. The tractor trailer's radio relayed the F.E.F. United weather forecast in hazy jargon.
The northwestern states are receiving waves of torrential rain and thunderstorms. Watch out for powerful winds on the main roads throughout the midwest as the warm front moves in. Further east, you can expect partly sunny skies. Humidity's going to soar! It's sweltering in sunny southern California! Wear your sunscreen, folks! Seriously. The northeast is cool and relatively clear, with few scattered showers. Heavy rain is expected to cause driving difficulties across much of the southeast, so be prepared! This has been the weather with Hal Carpenter, have a lovely day!
I couldn't catch my breath, and my eyesight dimmed for a moment. THen my eyesight returned to normal.
It was as if the world around me was replaced by the Nether. This time I witnessed a host of Nether denizens, dozens of them, standing under the boughs of the ashen trees. These specters had flesh and blood. Like me. They seemed completely in awe, staring at me, as if they had never seen a vampire before.
The Nether is definitely strange. It's like a dark, hellish reflection of our own world. When you enter the Nether, time slows, and the atmosphere becomes dire and thick with haze, all the colors are faded, and you can meet with and talk with all the dead spirits that ever walked the Earth. Except these spirits have bodies. The ghostly faces all but stared at me, aroused by my presence, which was a dreadful feeling. These poor, deceased humans continued to look on, then, suddenly, without warning, they quietly dispersed, one by one, until only Adalyn was left behind. Her mouth was covered with both of her hands. Adalyn pointed in the direction toward the young driver, and then she shook her head from left to right and back again violently. I shrugged my shoulders in response, not knowing what Adalyn was referring to.
I glanced in the direction Adalyn pointed. There was a tall black shrouded wraith with beaming, gut-wrenching acid-yellow eyes that pierced my soul, hovering in the distance. The wraith was all but bones, draped in a tattered black hooded robe. The wraith's eyes met my gaze, and it extended its bony hand toward me, as if it was trying to steal my soul. I could feel a part of me leave my body, which triggered another panic attack. I shuddered.
When I closed my eyes, I was somehow transferred back to Earth instantly.
"What was that?" I whispered to myself. I was right where I was before I was in the Nether.
I heard the voice of the driver. "I gotta piss, Milt," the young driver said as he marched off toward the array of trees on the opposite side of the road.
"Don't get lost, Jeriah," replied an somewhat elderly voice with a heavy southern drawl from within the cab.
The radio suddenly blared to life.
Good evening, lower 48. This is Mr. Pontiac broadcasting from Fairbanks, Alaska.
It's my birthday today, and I'm celebrating with a delicious chicken and queso quesadilla and an ice-cold lime margarita.
In major news, southern California is running scarce on water, while several catastrophic wildfires are ravaging the wooded mountains west of the Rockies this fire season. Residents of southern California say that their crops have zero chance of surviving the wildfire season without an adequate system to fight the oncoming flames and the smoke that darkens the sky, preventing crops from photosynthesizing. Fire crews are working round the clock to prevent an uncontrollable expansion of the El Salvaje Wildfire, borrowing water from adjacent states. Only ten percent of the 340,000 acre wildfire is said to be contained at this hour.
Marijuana continues to be the drug of choice in this day and age. The younger generation especially takes a liking. My wife's daughter takes pride in smoking weed; she makes huge fusses over it at the dinner table. She grows cannabis, a green herb. Why the hell do I gotta explain what pot is? Most of you have smoked it yourselves at least once in your lives. Pot will make you drowsy as hell, or it can put a hefty pep in your step, and it will for sure give you the munchies, maybe even give you paranoia. Although these tradeoff side effects seem undesirable, we can all agree that marijuana does help the user cope with depression and stress. But it's definitely not for everyone.
This just in, recent fog incidents have caused a small number of disappearances throughout F.E.F. East. No officials have yet to investigate the disappearances.
The young driver, Jeriah, spoke. "We should rest here for a while."
"I got an old tent in the back," Milton said. "Lemme' get it. We can set it up in that field over by that creek, maybe catch some fish."
"Alright. I'll get the fishing poles. And the bait. And the hooks."
Some minutes passed. The men's voices trailed into heavy, foreboding silence, yet I reassured myself as I checked for their presence before I moved from my current position behind the half-ruined stone wall.
Without any opposing conviction to tell me no, I darted for the idle semi. I ascended into the cab and I inspected the interior. The windows were faded and rolled low, the driver's side windshield was riddled with crystalline streaks. Rock hard raisins were encrusted on the floor, and in every crevice jutted mangled, fetid styrofoam cups and grease-stained brown paper bags and plastic trash.
I sat my backpack on the dashboard, then I searched the glove compartment.
Ladies and gents, it's 102.7 In the Cloud. How are y'all doing this fine day?
Skirmishes along the border of Arizona and New Mexico have erupted into fierce battles for territory and resources. The F.E.F. is winning the war, but for how long?
The Salton Sea, once a mega oasis in the Colorado desert, home to countless species of birds and fish, is drying up rapidly, a rate that mankind has never seen before. Desert winds carry fine, harsh particles outlying the Salton Sea west to Los Angeles and surrounding cities, causing widespread breathing difficulties and rotten smells from the mass dying of fish. If there's no immediate answer to its recession, the West will feel the effects. It's already a wasteland. Don't let it become hell on earth. I'm talking to you, F.E.F. West. Only you have the resources and manpower to restore the Salton Sea to its former greatness.
I, for one, hope the Salton Sea returns to its former glory, where rock stars and middle-class families skied on the water and drank ice-cold lemonade and ate homemade fried tilapia on the beach, a once-upon-a-time paradise southeast of jaded Palm Springs. Can I get an amen?
I couldn't contribute to the water shortage in the southwestern states. But I did feel sympathy for those who were without.
The death toll from the recent skirmishes over at F.E.F. West has mounted to a hundred and eighty in the last few weeks. That number is expected to rise.
I searched the truck thoroughly, hoping to gain insight on Jeriah and his companion, Milton. Unfortunately, I didn't find any clues pertaining to the identity of the two men.
I pondered, gazing keenly at the vibrant woods beyond the treeline. Those sylvan spires were brilliant and inspiring, casting long strained shadows. Golden twilight had set in.
I melted back into the ebony leather seats. I was completely drained. My eyelashes kneaded together and time slipped from my sweaty grasp. I let my conscience drift into the unknown.
Later, when I awoke, the day had chilled, and the sky had grown considerably dark. A blinding white light from outside the cab shone directly upon me.
"Step out of the cabin," beckoned Jeriah's gruff, blunt voice.
"I suggest ya' do what he says," suggested the driver's companion, Milton.
"I'm out, I'm out." I climbed out of the cab, plunging to asphalt. The barrel of a rifle slammed into my chest, knocking the wind out of me. As I refined my breath, I admonished the blond rebel. "Hey now, Sparky. If you keep pointing that rifle at me I'll rip it out of your sweaty hands and bludgeon you with it."
"Your clothes are damp. Thanks for getting my seat wet." Jeriah huffed, easing the rifle barrel away from me. "What were you doing in the cabin?"
"I was tired, so I took a nap." I told Jeriah the honest truth.
"In a semi on a dead highway? Couldn't you have found another semi to sleep in?"
"Sorry. I'll just be on my way."
Jeriah rolled his eyes. "You trespassed on our property. We can't let you go that easy."
"I'm terribly sorry. I was just curious. There was no one around when I came upon this semi."
Jeriah huffed again. "It's common courtesy to not go snooping around where you don't belong."
"It won't happen again, I promise you," I assured Jeriah. "I'll never again trespass upon anything that belongs to you two, ever."
"You're damn right, because I'm taking you to my boss."
"You're joking."
"I'm not laughing," Jeriah said callously.
Attempting to divert the conversation, I asked, "Where did you get diesel for the semi?"
"From our employer. He pays us to collect herbs and hunt critters. But he mainly pays us to scavenge fuel for him. Blair trades goods, and he provides us with room and board for our services. He owns eight fuel pumps. Soon he'll have four more. People come from three, four counties away to use his fuel pumps. Gas is scarce, as you know. He has several men deliver fuel all the way from Texas. Then he has a team of drivers deliver diesel to Denver about once a month. The cost of diesel in the heart of the Vampyr Empire is outrageous. In return, Blair gets all the gold and spices he could ever desire."
I tried to divert Jeriah's attention with a tangent. "Before you take me to your boss, let me offer you a proposition: Let's forget this Blair guy and we go on an epic, glorious vacation. Just the three of us. Whaddya' say?"
"Are you high?" Jeriah gawked at me as if I was a prostitute with three breasts.
"No, no. I'm just needing to get away from Kentucky for a while. I was thinking you two might care to travel with me."
"Just because we have a semi that you can hitch a free ride on? You're a smart one."
I detected Jeriah's sarcastic tone. "Wouldn't you want this one chance, this once in a lifetime opportunity, to tour F.E.F. United?"
"No," Jeriah staunchly denied.
"How about we go to Alaska and mingle with some eskimo chicks?"
"No."
Unrelenting, I continued to deviate the conversation, "Screw responsibilities! Screw jobs! Screw bosses! We need a vacation!"
"Alright already! You have me convinced. Where would we go, smart one?"
"Southern California."
"You're kidding me. No. Fucking. Way."
"What would ya' go there for?" Milton asked. "That's clear across FEF United."
I laughed and admitted, "There's many sights to see and people to greet, that's why it's worth going to southern California. Even just for a little while. Plus I would love to hunt some cool rocks out there."
Jeriah resumed speaking. "Okay, smart one, what route would we be taking to reach California?"
"Don't worry about the route. We can decide the route later."
Milton interrupted, "Are we ready to roll?"
Jeriah rolled his eyes. "I suppose we can leave for Blair's Tavern and let this stranger dry off there."
"Great idea, let's get going," I agreed.
"What's your name, smartass?" Jeriah questioned.
"Chase. Chase Cringle," I replied.
"Can you drive?"
"Yeah, I can drive. A bit. I'm not sure how well I can do with a semi, though."
Milton replied, "There's a first for everything. Go ahead and jump into the front seat."
Jeriah blurted out, "What! You're gonna let a newbie drive?" Jeriah sighed.
I allowed myself to become accustomed to the front seat and to the feel and the kick of the stick shift, as Milton sat on Jeriah's knees in the passenger seat. I've seen crazier things.
The road was curvy, bumpy, cracked, desolate and partially covered in patches of grass. My eyes were lost in the hills and distant mountains, weary of the creeping fog, though I was comfortable in the driver's seat. The two men were constantly shifting positions, as the stereo blasted Iron Maiden's album 'Powerslave'. I turned up the volume as I navigated a steep mountain half a mile high.
"Got any plans?" I casually asked the duo.
Jeriah duly replied, "Not really. We work like sled dogs."
"I didn't ask how hard you work. Don't you have plans? Everyone should have a plan."
"What you are referring to, we don't have. We work, we eat and drink, then we sleep, then we wake up the next morning to go back to work--that's all we know. Extracurricular activities, like fishing, are a monthly occurrence, at best."
I inhaled the crisp evening air rushing into the cab from the open windows. "Maybe seeing California will change your perspective."
News of a band of outlaw bikers has reached us, here in Detroit. There's confirmation that this band has left Columbus, Ohio in a state of disarray, cruising south, due in Kentucky within the hour. Twenty-three hundred are approximated to have been affected by tainted water that officials say contain the Vampyr Virus. I'm terribly petrified and deeply sorry for Columbus, Ohio. I have sent the city of Columbus my regards and I've started a fundraiser called "Clean Water for Columbus". If you have a heart, and you are able, please donate a bottle of water through one of our several couriers located in your state of residence. Myself and the rest of the 102.7 team pray for all those inflicted with the fatal Vampyr Virus in Columbus. I extend my heart out to you all. This has been the latest with Ted Jones. Have a glorious day, America, and pray for Columbus.
And so began the sheets of rain that carpeted the tractor trailer charging forward toward Richmond, Kentucky.