The Dracula Index - Vampire Epoch//01

68 - Mell

Bryne and I watched as he eased the door open, pointed is gun in both directions, and then gave us the signal that it was safe to enter. It was a tight space, not enough room for anyone else but us three. And it seemed to be the place that the stranger called home.

Sweeney got as comfortable as he could on a lone, filthy mattress at the end of the tank, with one boot crossed leisurely over the other. "So! Back out again, I see," he piped, his voice wrapped in a tinny echo. "Nice outfits. Lot of work in this valley for Generals, I'll tell you that much. Have you ever heard of goggles? Or a hat? It's dustier than you think out here. And the sun can drain your energy just as fast as it can theirs."

"Who are you talking about?" Bryne asked.

"Forget it."

"Are these your things?" I mentioned, pointing to a stack of books, bottles, and remnants of pre-encampment tech. Dirty animal bones were mixed into the wires and circuits.

"Yes, they are. Might leave it all behind for the next guy. Travel light, I say."

I nodded and took my time inspecting the living space of someone who was existing safely outside the encampment system. Bryne, remaining suspicious, never allowed his gaze to leave Sweeney.

"Why were you watching our camp?"

"I wasn't. I saw you there, yeah. Was curious. You seem to have things in order. Didn't want to bother you. As a Waster, I chose this life. That means I'm usually not welcomed. Unlike you two, most people are cautious these days. That's a good thing, let me tell you. I've seen the opposite."

Sweeney brought a knee up to his chest and stretched it out. Specks of rust fell from the bottom of his boot and trickled to his lap. For some reason, his boots fascinated me. They were black and filthy, not unlike the boots of a Scaver, but knowing that they had traveled so much further than I had ever imagined, they seemed almost sacred.

"So let me ask you both something," he said, opening a slot in the ceiling that filled the tank with light, and then moved to lock the door. He was so close to me that I shivered. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I don't bite."

I laughed nervously and glanced at his teeth. They didn't look at all scary. Not like the woman from last night. He caught me looking and I averted my eyes as he returned to the mattress.

Bryne cleared his throat. "I've never seen that kind of gun before. What do you call it?"

Sweeney fit his thumb under the buckle that clipped his gun in place. "Single action Smith and Wesson revolver. Shoots thirty-two caliber bullets. They get the job done when they need to. I have others, but these have been with me since I first set out on the road. There are some scary things out here, waiting for people just like you. They're fast, cunning...and soulless. What made you think you could handle the wasteland at night? That's about the stupidest thing you could have done."

"It was to find more books for this," I answered, taking the Chrono-tablet from my back pocket.

"Yeah, well...next time I'd go out during the day."

"We can't. They'll catch us."

"Right, so you chose risking your life instead? Good plan."

"I'm ready to die," Bryne said confidently. "If I have to."

"Not talking about dying, kid. What they do is much worse."

"I know that. It's documented in the letters."

"Is it? No way it could be. Some of the most terrifying things to happen to mankind have been done long after your Chrono-tablet stopped working. And no one has written those things down."

"How do you know?"

"Because anyone who has seen the shit out there, the real shit, they don't have time to get out a pencil. They're too busy watching a puddle of their own blood soak into the dirt."

"So how do you know any of this?" Bryne asked, skeptical.

"I'm selfish."

"Sounds more like you know how to survive."

"No. It's more like I never had the courage to kill myself." Sweeney looked down at the gun on his right thigh. Even in the dim light we could see the dull steel finish on the handle of his gun. It had been well used. After a while, he continued. "I've left friends behind. I've given up when met with failure. I'm a coward, who was never meant to be. This place changes you. It plays on your darkest thoughts, and it prays on the weakest soul. You can't survive out here with your mind on anyone else. A heart cannot beat in the wasteland."

It was a cold statement to make, but it was clear to us that he knew the reality of the world better than we ever could. I saw the truth of it in the casual way he spoke. Still, I asked him, "Then why did you invite us back here, if you don't care?"

"Because I do not want whatever is gonna wind up happening to you on my conscience. I've got enough there, believe me. You made a mistake coming out, but I'm glad you did. The life you have back at your encampment...I envy you. Out here in the waste," he said with a dry breath, nudging a tin can off the mattress, "it's endless and miserable."

"But you're free."

"True freedom is only achieved with simple ignorance. Go back. Be ignorant, and find happiness there."