Vampocalypse (old first draft)

Chapter Five

I was eager to return to Gramma. I never liked leaving her alone for very long, even though she said she didn't mind being alone.

"If you can't enjoy your own company, it's time to reevaluate yourself," she would say.

She was full of old quotes like that.

I left the dining area early. Hector wasn't able to follow me to my quarters, but he was sure to give another discrete wink before I left. I just glared at him until I passed.

I wasn't sure how to feel about being pursued by a superior. Surely it was dangerous. The others would notice sooner or later. Would they kill me? Would they transfer me to a potential compound? Change me?

That would be the worst scenario I could come up with. No matter what, I would never want to be one of them. I understand, it gave strength. It wasn't lost on me that I would never have to worry about other superiors or deaders ever again, if I were a superior. Yet, I would have to drink the blood of my kin; that was something I just could not picture doing. Ever.

There was just so much going on in my head, I had to figure it out. I needed advice. Gran was basically the only person in my family I could turn to with such matters. The others...they just lost themselves in the compound life. I didn't fit in with them, or anyone else. I didn't feel the same way about the superiors as the rest of them did. They were the firsty's saviors, but they were my enemies as surely as the deaders waiting in the wild for a lonely firsty to wonder by for a bit of evening devouring. Besides that, I had developed a habit of asking my grandma everything; either because she seemed to know all of the answers or because she'd taught me everything.

We didn't have school - a place she said kids used to attend to learn things like reading, writing, math, and history - so she taught my brother and me everything. Most families had to teach their own. Then there were those families that didn't know very much at all. Those families were mostly in compounds thirty through forty, because they were easier to handle, or so I've heard. They didn't need as much security in those compounds. As a rule, the more intelligent firsties were the more security they had. To me, that was proof that the security was more for their protection than ours. What were they afraid of? Others, like my mother and father, just assumed that the smarter the firsty, the more afraid of the outside they would be. I didn't believe that. You don't have to be a genius to fear a flesh-tearing, gut-gnawing deader.

"You're early," Gramma observed upon my return.

She sat comfortably in her old rocking chair with her knitting spread out around her. She was probably making another blanket. She was good at knitting those. They were so soft and warm. I was delighted that the superiors kept her supplied well, but I had wondered why. Maybe it was just more proof that they liked her on some level. She was a very likable person, but usually if they liked someone it meant- the thought made me ill. They wouldn't change my grandma, or they'd already have done it. Wouldn't they?

She was getting along in age; they had even stopped bleeding her long ago because of it. In fact, I couldn't remember one time that they'd ever bled my grandma. They never bled the potentials either. Did they plan to make her one of them someday? Were they biding their time until she was at the brink of death before they had her join their ranks?

I had no way of knowing. I could only hope they didn't plan anything sinister, and I could only hope the same for myself.

"I wanted some time with you. I need to talk to you," I said, kneeling down by her rocker.

"Is this about Hector?" Grandma asked.

Always so observant was she. She must have read between the lines when he'd made the spectacle in the dining area the night before.