The Dracula Index - Vampire Epoch//01

26 - Mell

With that, Bryne was done talking again. I found a place to sit, overlooking the destroyed courtyard below, my mind racing with questions. I wanted to know, right then, how thirty-five short notes and letters were somehow able to magically explain everything we had grown up questioning. But, again, his tired expression told me most of what I needed to hear. Bryne eventually came close, but chose not to sit. This had to be one of the strangest conversations we've ever had. I'm so glad it ended the way it did, though. I'll get to that in a moment.

I went on.

"Let me see if I've got this straight. After compiling letters from a few specific people, spanning a thousand years...and somehow explaining all this," I said, waving an arm out at the ruin of Encampment R-13, "The book we placed in the Chronoscope continues the story, with an easy transition and all, of this Dracula character whom you say is the reason for the infection?"

"Yes. That's true. And I told you he is the infection."

"Right," I agreed. "Suppose there's nothing else in there about people coming to take the book away, or to talk to our Elders?"

"Nope," he answered dryly. "It's still in the drawer. I checked before coming up here."

Here's the part I've been waiting to write down. Maybe my most most-unforgettable moment ever. I stood and reached up for Bryne's face. Then I placed a hand on his cheek and caught his eyes, just as the sun peeked over the furthest hill.

"You seem different, Bryne," I said in a hushed voice. "If this is going to change me, or change the way we are together, I don't want to read it."

A smile broke on his face and he placed a hand on my neck. I swooned in his touch. "Nothing, Mell..." he began, with more focus than I had seen in weeks, "Nothing can take away what we have. I've always thought that Never-ever was a silly sentiment, but that's how I feel about my feelings for you going away. Never-ever, Mell. Do you believe me?"

In the middle of my nodding, he kissed me on the lips. I sigh, now, as I watch my pencil writing these words in the glow of the tablet. His softness, his tender caress, is all I want in this life. And if reading these letters, despite the frights within them, can somehow bring me the ability to love my Bryne openly, and freely, in a healed world, I will take the risk and brave the words the Chronoscope has laid out for us.

After many minutes in each other's arms, expressing our feelings for the first time, we got to work dragging pickets to their marked locations and setting them in the dirt. It was tiresome work, even with the breeze, but Bryne and I were happy to be side by side, no matter the task.

We spoke about a lot of things today — our school friends, the state of Edie's sickness, the Elder Council, the upcoming Festival Night — but certain topics brought Bryne back to a silent state. Like when I mentioned the man on the hill or the woman who had attacked the Scavers during their "Roadshow". I told Bryne that I heard Ficcin screaming once, when I was bringing the garden cart to the refuse pile behind Hospital House. He's still down there. And it sounds like he is alone. I asked Bryne why they would risk keeping a man who was possibly infected at our camp, but he wouldn't answer me. I really must stop writing about my day and start reading these letters, if only to know why Bryne looks so grave.

Elder Priest, be with me. I'm afraid of the appalling things this man, Ezzelin, has written nearly a thousand years ago. And I'm more afraid, still, of Dracula.