written by Van_Carley
Listen to the audio on Spotify: https://anchor.fm/writersconnx
Silver clouds moved in the distance, with their shadows dancing across dusty terrain where tumbleweeds skittered without purpose.
There wasn't much to hunt, except for rodents, and the occasional coyote, but even they had become wise over the years. They knew to hide from us. Aside from being Valentine's Day, it was the average afternoon of scouting the land for supplies.
But it was about to become more interesting.
"What's that?" I whispered and brought the binoculars to my face before laying on my stomach in the shrubs. "Did you see the flash of light down there?"
"Point to it." Henry crouched beside me and I stretched my finger.
"There. By that rusty truck with flat tires."
"By those old water barrels?"
"Yes. Looked like something was moving."
"Or someone."
"Couldn't be." I furrowed my brows and passed him the binoculars. "No one wanders the wasteland alone. It's too dangerous."
"Desperate people do desperate things, Armand."
"Should we head down there?"
"If it is someone, it's best we find out now, rather than have them find our compound and report back to their people."
"But if they're wandering alone, certainly they don't have anyone to report to..."
"I know you're young, Armand, but don't be foolish too." Henry stood and dusted his knees. "What we have is valuable and needs protection. We can't trust outsiders."
Without waiting for a response, he began making his way down the slope, so I scurried to my feet, following my mentor. There was still so much to learn and with my father terminally ill, I would have the hefty responsibility of inheriting his place on the council soon. So I needed to be ready for it—even if none of the council members believed a twenty-two-year-old belonged amongst them.
When we reached the bottom, Henry gave hand signals to tread carefully. Abandoned gas stations were notorious for scavengers searching for supplies, but they also invited marauders. A scavenger was one thing—they were usually just hungry and searching for whatever scraps, but a marauder wanted what was yours. And their wants didn't stop at food. They would snatch your children and women just to get you to surrender all your valuables.
Henry paused, raised two fingers in the air, and twitched his nose. As one of our best trackers, he could find anything. So we crept around the gas pumps, with his eyes scanning the ground.
"Human," he whispered and pointed to the faintest boot prints on the concrete—prints I never would have detected. "They must be injured. See the unevenness in their steps?"
"Yes," I lied.
Just then, the clang of metals crashing to the ground jerked our attention towards the small convenience store attached to the gas station. Henry reached for the blade on his vest, but held out his other arm, signaling to wait for his move. Then, there was a black blur of someone running between the abandoned vehicles in the lot.
"Move!" Henry shouted. "I'll cut around the building and catch them off guard."
Before I could argue, he took off running towards the right, his swift legs kicking up dust. He was twenty-five years my senior, but with an agility that put mine to shame as he slid across a picnic table and disappeared around the building in five seconds flat.
However, I ran straight, following the path of the mystery person. They were several feet ahead and racing toward a field of weeds as tall as our shoulders—which a person could easily get lost inside.
"Stop!" I yelled, but of course, they kept going.
Despite the heat, this person was dressed in black from head to toe, with their head covered, and zero signature pieces to identify which faction they came from. Which meant there was only one other explanation.
This person was an outcast.
And outcasts were often shunned by their people after committing a betrayal. This made them an easy target for vampires to scoop up and brainwash into servitude.
As the mystery person wove around empty barrels, I leapt over them, chipping away at the distance between us. They were so close I could almost reach out and grab a handful of their sweater. However, that's when an arrow pierced their leg, and the person released an animalistic screech. Henry tackled them to the ground, causing the arrow to snap, and another scream to slice the air, but when he flipped the person over, we were met with wild, terrified eyes belonging to a young woman.
"Why did you run from us!" Henry stretched his bow, a fresh arrow aimed as he placed his boot on top of her chest.
She stared at us, her hands surrendered as a swell of tears glazed her hazel irises. Judging by the quiver in her bottom lip, she was more scared of us, than we needed to be of her.
"Henry, take it easy..." I placed my hand on his shoulder, but he reprimanded me.
"What did I tell you about being foolish? She could be one of them!"
"But they only come out at night..."
"Again, you are foolish, Armand. She could be a daywalker."
"I'm not!" she cried.
"Show us your teeth," Henry demanded, but when she didn't oblige, he parted her lips with the tip of his arrow, the sharp edge grazing her gums and drawing blood as she jerked away.
"Curse you and your family!" she shouted.
Tears trickled down to her temples as her face contorted and a glop of blood flew from her lips, landing on Henry's thigh.
"You little—"
Before he could finish the sentence, I hauled him off of her and placed myself between them. "Can't you see she's just scared!"
"You stupid boy." He shoved me. "You'll never fill your father's shoes with such a delicate mind like yours."
"She's bleeding. It's red. Vampires don't have red blood." I motioned to her. "And judging by her clothes, she isn't from around here."
"Which means she's dangerous." Henry raised his bow, but I smashed his arms down.
"Are you mad!"
"Move, you stupid boy. Vampires use humans as spies," he snarled while shoving me with his shoulder.
It wasn't like me to defy my mentor, but I knew deep in my gut, Henry was wrong. So, as he raised the bow once more, and his arm stretched to aim, I did the most treacherous act of stepping behind him and slicing a blade across his throat. He didn't understand what was happening as his hands slapped the wound on his neck.
Frankly, I wasn't aware of what I had done either.
Even as I glanced at the blood smeared across the knife clutched in my fist, it felt so foreign glinting under the scorching sun. I couldn't even recognize my reflection in the metal because the young man who murdered his mentor to save a stranger, was not the same young man who woke up earlier that day.
No. I was someone else entirely after that betrayal.
"Stupid... boy..." were Henry's last words as his body flopped forward, and his face smacked against the hot earth.
Everything around us swirled. What had I done?
However, as dazed as I was, I snapped back to my senses as soon as I heard the girl whimpering. There she was, rocking back and forth on the ground, hugging her knee as a trail of crimson ran down her calf muscle. When I approached, her crying halted and her eyes flashed to me in terror.
"Please don't hurt me."
"I won't." To prove it, I chucked the blade aside and held up my hands. "I can fix that wound."
"I'm not one of their servants."
"What?"
"Your friend said I could be a vampire spy, but I'm not. I'd rather die and have my carcass rot in the sun than let them brainwash me into serving them."
"I never thought you were."
Crouching, I examined her wound with trembling fingers. The arrow had pierced all the way through, and part of it was still lodged inside.
"Why not?" she said softly, staring directly into my eyes.
"Why what?"
"Why didn't you think I was one of them?"
"Because the people who serve vampires are different." I shrugged and continued palpating the wound to avoid her gaze.
Even though she sat there with disheveled, greasy hair, peppered in rubble from tumbling, and dirt streaked across the dewy flesh of her cheeks, she was beautiful. No, beautiful was not enough to describe her. She was extraordinary with coils of hair as dark as midnight, and hazel eyes which glowed in the sunlight.
"Ouch," she winced and my hands halted from stroking her leg. Truthfully, I may have gotten carried away because of how silky her tanned skin felt against my fingertips.
"I'm sorry. I'm just checking if part of the arrow is still inside."
"What will you do with him?"
"I... haven't thought that far ahead yet." I darted my gaze and began tearing the hem of my shirt to create a bandage.
That's when it all started sinking in. I murdered someone I'd known all of my life, to protect someone I knew nothing absolutely about.
"Why did you save me?"
"I don't know." My trembling fingers paused mid-tear as a wave of nausea rolled from head to toe and my body swayed. "I didn't realize what I'd done until he collapsed."
The words were barely out of my mouth when a surge of vomit scrambled up my throat and erupted like a can of soda. Somehow, I managed to miss the girl as my breakfast splattered onto the ground next to us. But, it didn't end there. My stomach was in full revolt as it heaved food I don't even remember eating, and between all of that puking, the girl's gentle hand rubbed circles into my back.
She was the one bleeding, yet she was soothing me.
Wiping my mouth, I sat back and held my stomach while catching my breath. Meanwhile, she finished bandaging her leg—a task I should have completed.
"I'm sorry."
"You can't help feeling sick." She shrugged, but then her gaze met mine. "So, what's going to happen now? I'm assuming you'll need a good story to tell your people about why you're returning alone."
"I'll tell them we were attacked."
"Are your people the kind who would retaliate?"
"Probably... yes."
"Then you can't tell them it was a human who attacked."
"A beast, then."
"But what kind? Most of the wildlife in the wasteland is too frail to fight."
"Then I'll tell them it was a vampire."
"And yet you survived?" she quirked her brow, and the girl had a point.
Vampires were fast, cunning, and stronger than bears. There were so many stories of them eviscerating men within seconds using only their hands. I'd never seen one before but was told they had talon-like nails as sharp as razor blades, and black eyes with red pupils which could hypnotize a person right on the spot.
So, she was right.
There was no way I could survive an attack instead of Henry, who was far more skilled at combat.
"Tell them he abandoned you."
"What?" I crinkled my brows.
"When you return home, tell them you woke up and he was gone."
"But, Henry wouldn't just leave."
"Sometimes a little mystery is the best lie."
"Is that what you're doing—lying to me?"
"What would I be lying about? You saved me, so I'm returning the favor."
"But why are you out here alone? It's dangerous."
"I'm looking for someone."
"Who?"
"No one important." She shook her head.
"What's your name?"
"Eliza."
"Eliza what?"
"Consuelo."
"Consuelo... Consuelo..." I said, letting the surname roll off my tongue. "Why does it sound so familiar?"
"Beats me. So what's your name?"
"Armand Ríos."
"Well, Armand Ríos, will you help me up?"
"Yes, right!" I shot to my feet and lifted her by the waist, but her clothes were deceiving as my hands slipped past fabric like noodles through a strainer. "You're tiny."
"Try undernourished."
Securing my arm around her waist, I wondered how long she had been traveling alone? Judging by the gurgling of her belly, she was ravenous.
"It's getting dark soon and it won't be safe for us out here. We should find a place to camp."
"But what about your friend? Shouldn't we bury him?"
"It will take too long and as I said, we don't want to be caught in the dark. Plus, we need to eat."
Despite the dark circles under Eliza's eyes, her complexion illuminated as she looked up at me. "Before you and your friend chased me, I found a can of green beans. It's in my bag."
"Green beans and squirrel meat will make an excellent meal. Now to find a camp..."
"I heard of a place not far from here." Eliza lifted her finger. "Somewhere past those plateaus, near a gulch."
"A bunker of sorts?"
"Yes."
"I think I know the place you speak of, but it's going to be a bit of a walk. Think you can make it?"
"I can if you can."
"Right." I nodded and stepped in the direction of our destination.
However, after ten minutes of her wincing with each wobbly step, I swooped her into my arms, and she protested at first, but she was no match for my stubbornness. So, after several attempts of her squirming about and my grip not loosening, she gave up.
For the next thirty minutes, we trekked across dry, cracked earth, where tumbleweeds skittered, and the howl of wind trapped in the valley of the desert urged us forward. As weightless as Eliza was, my biceps quivered from holding her for so long, so I grit my teeth through the last few minutes. Then, the dilapidated home capable of blowing away on a strong gust, appeared in the distance.
At one point it must have been a lovely place to live, with its wrap-around balcony overlooking a green field of vegetation, and the rush of water flowing through the gulch. Now it was just a whisper on the wind.
The closer we got, I could see the metal hatch of the bunker off to the side, glinting under the fading sun.
"We made it in time," I sighed in relief. "I was worried we'd get caught in the dark."
"Do vampires venture this deep into the wasteland?"
"From what I know, they stick to the ghosts towns, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
The rusty hinges squealed as I pulled open the heavy, circular door, revealing an abyss of darkness.
"Your friend Henry mentioned something about daywalkers. What are those?"
"Half-breed vampires. They can tolerate daylight to some degree." I pointed my flashlight into the gloomy space. "Looks clear."
"I had a feeling it would be."
The bunker was small. Just enough space to fit ten people and might have been a storm shelter in another life. We climbed down, locked the hatch, and lit the lanterns, casting an amber flicker across every surface. Metal shelves lined the walls and held canned goods, along with tattered bags of rice and beans.
Somehow, the bunker was always stocked with supplies whenever Henry and I used it, yet the dust occupying the surfaces suggested no one else had been there for quite a while.
"How do you know about this place?" Eliza asked as she ran her hand across the spines of books on a shelf.
"Henry discovered it a few years ago, but we never stay long in case the owner comes back."
"I see." She nodded and leaned against the wall.
It was then, I also saw. Because displayed on the masonry beside her head were family photos, and Eliza was the spitting image of a woman in one of them. Then, her familiar surname stampeded to the forefront of my memory. Long ago, the Consuelo family had been attacked by vampires, but the rumor was, Gabriel Consuelo agreed to a lifetime of servitude if they spared his wife and children.
Another rumor said, he was turned into a vampire and that one of his children was a half-breed.
"No..." I backed into the shelves, and Eliza followed my line of sight to the photos. She closed her eyes, but then sighed and focussed back on me.
"My family farmed the land for generations, but then the vampires slaughtered them. Or so I've been told."
"Valentine's day."
"What?" She furrowed her brows.
"Rumors say it happened on Valentine's day."
"Oh." Her gaze drifted to our feet. "Which is today..."
Then, she hugged herself, and like a frightened fool, I flinched. However, when our eyes met again, she smudged away a tear from her cheek this time.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Armand. I'm just looking for my father."
"People say he's a vampire now." I trembled as she stepped closer. "And that he has a half-breed child."
"I'm not dangerous, Armand."
"But you bleed red..."
"I do."
"Are you a daywalker?"
"I'm Eliza. That's all you need to know."
Turning on her heels, she limped over to the small kitchenette across from us, but I didn't move as she began cooking our dinner. Eventually, I took a seat on one of the sleeping cots, and we ate our dinner in silence. I'd never seen a vampire before, let alone a daywalker, and Eliza looked so normal as lantern light flickered across her silky tanned skin.
What if I was jumping to conclusions? After all, rumors were drenched in lies and her skin had color, whereas vampires were grey in pallor. If she wanted to harm me, she would have already done so.
As the evening wore on, and night veiled the wasteland in shadows of silver moonlight, the bunker grew colder. I tried ignoring Eliza as she rubbed her shoulders, yet I couldn't deny the frigid state of our temporary dwelling either.
To pass the time, I began making conversation about my childhood, and fog floated out with each word I spoke on a shiver. However, Eliza didn't say a peep. Instead, she listened while hugging a wool blanket around her. Then, after a while, she yawned.
"Would you mind if we sat closer while we sleep?" she asked and wiped her drippy nose with the back of her hand.
"Only because of how chilly it is..." I replied and slid in next to her, but when our fingers grazed, her skin felt glacial. "You're a lot colder than you let on."
"I've been through worse, but yes, the desert is surprisingly freezing at night."
"Give me your hands," I said and she hesitated, but placed them in mine.
For a moment, I massaged her knuckles and avoided her gaze as I worked my fingers up to her wrists. Lantern light flickered off her skin and I wondered how it would look on the rest of her. It was a fleeting thought I pushed away as Eliza's stare singed the side of my head. Could vampires read people's thoughts?
"Thank you."
"You're welcome," I replied on a gulp as I snuck a glance at her.
If Eliza was a half-breed vampire, well, then she was the most beautiful one I'd ever met. Or maybe it was true what they said about them having the ability to hypnotize people?
Because as we stared at each other, something stirred within me. I'd only kissed one other girl before, so as my gaze dropped to Eliza's mouth, I wanted to taste her, and judging by the way she licked her lips, she wanted that too.
Even now, as I look back on this memory, I can't remember who made the first move. Was it her or me?
Although, I suppose it doesn't matter because there in that chilly night of the bunker, snuggling for warmth, our lips met. It was tender, yet tentative, and tenacious all at once.
Later, as we spooned under the blankets, with her head resting on my chest, and my fingers coiling through her tendrils, I forgot about her possibly being a vampire. We even discussed going back to the compound, introducing her to everyone, and living a life together.
Except, I was very naive.
When dawn broke on the horizon, I awoke to an empty space next to me and with a scribbled note that said,
I will never forget your kindness.
Love,
Eliza ~ The half-breed.
I crumpled the note and laughed at myself for being foolish, just as Henry accused me of being.
Yet, I don't regret saving her because that fateful day, I found something rare.
Love in a vampire wasteland.
And deep in my bones, I knew I'd see Eliza Consuelo again.
<<THE END>>
About Van Carley: I'm an insomniactic daydreamer (that's me in the photo). I'm married, a mother of 2 rambunctious Terrier breeds, I'm a proud Aunt, y soy Latina 🇳🇮🇲🇽 My stories usually take place in San Francisco since it's my hometown, so naturally, I think it's a spectacular setting. I write in whatever genre the wind steers me, but always with morally grey characters.