The Dracula Index - Vampire Epoch//01

67 - Mell

MELL'S NOTES BOOK
November 7, 2245
Entry #13 - Handwritten

So, that's it.

That's how it all came to an end.

I scrolled ahead to see what came after the emergency broadcast. The next letters are from Jonathan Harker, back two hundred years to eighteen sixty-three, where it seems like they stay for the remainder of the incomplete index. It proves what I believed, that the Chronoscope wanted us to understand how it all came to a close and what Dracula's impact was on the world before we truly got to know him. I'm certain he plays a key role in the Notes Book that Rufus found in the wasteland inside that woman's carriage.

I accept now that the world I grew up in is essentially the aftermath of such widespread destruction that took place during a time that seems to have been peaceful. I want to know more. How did we get there? What happened in 2012? What was the ritual that took place 563 days after Vlad ended his life with help from Kumpan? Did Ezzelin play any part in this? Was this new Vampire Epoch the conclusion of his ritual?

I don't know what to call him now. He has so many titles. Camazotz, the bat God. A Wampyr. King Nosferatu. Vlad Tepes, the Impaler, Prince of Wallachia. He is the cause of all this.

And for some reason, the woman we encountered last night, the beautiful and terrifying woman who I cannot unsee, was carrying a bound collection of letters that may or may not provide us with the secret of how to save humanity. I need to know who she was, and why she would not just destroy these important pieces of human history.

Bryne is more concerned about our old classmates. They are all acting differently today. I think that when Oscar was attacked it was a little too real. Nobody is acting stranger than him. He seems distant and unable to perform his job as a Watchman. He continues to stare out at the distant hills, as always, but with a blank and unconcerned expression, which differs greatly from his eagle-eyed scrutiny.

And then there's Lenny. As a Priest, he failed to adequately protect us. The man who did is still out there. Jack Sweeney. Bryne and I returned to Sweeney tonight. I could have asked the others to join us, but we knew it was too soon for them. It was still too new on their minds.

I would say that the encampment Elders have done their job well. We are so scared, and I think those fears are misplaced. Yes, these beings are capable of hurting us. But if there is one thing I have learned from the letters, it's that they have feared us, as well. They pretended to be us, they hunted us at night, they wanted us to be like them. That may not be how they are now, but it was certainly that way at the start.

Rufus is off with the Scavers on a "Roadshow". I wonder how differently he feels now. If he is more courageous, more fearful. Lane says that they took a lot of items with them from Inventory Post, which tells me that we won't be seeing them soon. For that reason, no one else is willing to leave, even though Bryne and I are confident that we can take care of ourselves beyond the picket boundary. We aren't Scavers, and so we don't truly know what is out there. I would have asked Rufus to tell us what he knew about the Wampyr before he left, but they were gone before sun up, while the Generals were busy preparing the kitchen for breakfast-hour.

If no one was going to help us, we would need to enlist some help of our own. Roof kept the map, hoping to sneak it in with the other pages the next time they went scavenging, so I woke this morning knowing that we would have to go out and find Sweeney during the day in order to see our way around. Ireath and the other Generals were still too frightened of Sweeney's presence to risk working on the expansion plan of Encampment R-13, so Bryne and I knew we had the whole day to ourselves.

We left the second valley, what we fondly call the area that encompasses R-13, when the sun was high overhead and it was warm enough to travel. In the light of day, it was so much easier to navigate the wasteland, even with a string of garlic around the neck. Rufus had been extremely cautious with every step we took because the ground is deceptive out there. Land that looks steady could be covering the frail roof of a buried structure. Dangerous metal objects buried in the earth masquerade as jagged stones.

About an hour into our travels we made it back to the ruins where Sweeney told us he would be camped. It was much larger than we could make out in the dark, and there was so much to see that we hadn't noticed him. In fact, though the valley was crowded with the former signs of life, there was nothing that lived. We sensed no animals and saw no smoking fire pit. We had almost lost hope of seeing him when we heard his voice.

"First rule of the wasteland?" Sweeney said from behind us. Bryne and I spun, each brandishing a small pistol. "Grow an eye in the back of your head."

He was leaning smugly against the rubble of a building, one hand on a holster, the other scratching the dark stubble on his neck.

"It's Mell, right?"

"Yeah."

"You can put your guns away," he suggested with a nod. "And who are you, son?"

"Call me Bryne."

"I'll call you whatever you want, but let me tell ya...you guys got some real balls coming out here alone. You're either confident and reckless, or you're stronger and smarter than you look. Either way, you're still as dumb as they come."

Bryne squinted at him. "What are you doing out here? Spying on our encampment?"

"I think we should find some cover before we make too much noise. Follow me."

Sweeney led the two of us through the ruined buildings on the valley floor with enough certainty to show that he had been there for as many weeks as it takes to know the lay of the land. He avoided pitfalls within shadowed buildings and took a long way around a questionable-looking green puddle that steamed in the sunlight. Finally, he stopped near a large, cylindrical tank that was flaking leaves of rust to the grass. He pulled a revolver free from his hip and approached a half-opened door on the side of the tank.

"Wait here."