Night Falls

"Kenyara, why are you helping us?"

Daniel Ferrant took the waterskin handed to him by the Black man and drank with difficulty. His throat still burned like it was smoking, his voice raspy. Beside him, two ragged white men took turns grabbing the waterskin, gulping down the contents recklessly; in this hellhole, finding water safe to drink was a rarity.

The man called Kenyara was a lean, wiry Black man who looked to be in his forties. He didn't have much meat on his bones and wasn't tall, but his eyes were bright. He hesitated for a moment, as if organizing his thoughts, yet his hands remained busy nimbly peeling an unknown fruit.

"I... I was only a teenager when I was sold to the estate. Life wasn't easy at first, and old Mr. Howlett, he... no, I don't mean anything bad about him!" Kenyara grew anxious as he spoke, rushing to offer a chaotic explanation to the group.

Daniel waved his hand, his gaze gentle as he tried to comfort him. Kenyara slowly relaxed, continuing to speak with a stutter, his words not quite fluid.

"Young Mr. Howlett is a good man, he's been good since he was a child. He treated us very well, the kind of 'very well' that's hard to describe... After he became the master, everyone's life felt like a dream..." Kenyara's vocabulary was limited; when it came to adjectives, he basically only knew "good" and "bad."

"...He asked me if I was willing to help him, to accompany you all here. He also said that when we go back, he'll give me a large piece of land. I'll be free to farm, plant whatever I want, and the crops will be my own! And... and he told me that, by that time, everyone like me will be able to live like a real person..."

After finishing, Kenyara looked up and offered a shy smile, baring his white teeth as he added, "I believe him."

Daniel let out a long sigh, took the fruit Kenyara handed him, and crunched into it. It was sweet, and the juice was cool and refreshing.

He relaxed for a moment, then continued to ask, "But they are... they could be considered your kin, and this is your homeland. Why do you still want to return to the estate, even risking your life to help us escape?"

"They are not my kin." Kenyara began to eat his own fruit, head bowed, speaking in a dull tone.

"They only see us as... thieves, regardless of whether we look the same or not. Even people like me are considered worse... This is my homeland, I am a Kikuyu, but... living here is so hard... so hard..."

Kenyara seemed unwilling to speak further, eating his fruit in silence. Seeing this, Daniel stopped asking and turned to the two white men beside him. "We can reach Mombasa in another day's journey. There's a British resource port there, and we'll be able to contact the estate and find a way back!"

"Sigh... it's a pity that only a few of us escaped. Blake, Jason, and the others are all..."

The younger one couldn't help but start crying. They never imagined this exploration mission would turn out like this. Including the local guides and porters, there were over twenty people, yet only four escaped... It was hard to believe such a mysterious and terrifying tribe existed in this world.

"It's my fault. We shouldn't have gone so deep. Stop crying, David. Being able to escape is the most important thing. As long as we get back, James might still have a way to save them." Daniel patted David on the shoulder, revealing a peculiar brand on his arm. It looked like some kind of strange script, and it appeared to have been there for a long time.

I wonder what James is doing right now... Daniel thought to himself, reaching into his coat to touch a pitch-black, flat, elongated ornament, rubbing it slowly. In truth, he knew that in a place guarded by such terrifying "people," how could James possibly save them?

"Achoo!"

Perhaps choked by coal dust, James couldn't help but sneeze. He rubbed his nose and stood by the boiler, leaning on a shovel. His white linen shirt was smudged pitch-black, and his beard had grown quite a bit; compared to his usual refined and crisp appearance, he looked more like a rugged cowboy now.

"This is no place for you, little girl Jamie." Victor was shirtless, his body glistening with oil, sweat pouring down. The fire from the steam boiler illuminated his granite-like muscles, casting a brilliant red glow.

He said this while using his favorite nickname to tease James, all the while using a small, stick-like shovel to continuously feed coal into the boiler.

James wasn't annoyed, calmly retorting, "If you could use your brain and ponder the things I've taught you, you wouldn't look like a drowned chicken."

Unlike Victor, who was sweating profusely from the boiler's heat, James didn't have a single drop of sweat on him. Aside from the coal dust on his clothes, he looked remarkably refreshed.

Having reached the realm of Huajin, James's control over his body had reached a new level. The opening and closing of his pores were as natural as instinct, and the regulation of his body temperature and the movement of his internal organs had become abilities he could control at will.

Victor paused, then said with disdain, "Hmph! Who cares about practicing those weird things."

James pulled out an exquisitely crafted copper cigar case from his pocket, lit one with the furnace fire, and puffed on it for a moment before tentatively saying, "If you learn it, you might be able to beat me."

Victor suddenly stopped, saying nothing more. After a long while, he continued to shovel coal into the boiler.

For the sake of convenience, the steam train that James and Victor were escorting carried no conductors or workers, to prevent Adam from harming innocent people should he attack. As for the basic operation of the steam train, it wasn't difficult; the only hardship was having to shovel coal into the boiler themselves.

They were more than halfway through the journey, and the sky was gradually darkening. At their current speed, they would reach the freight station near Gettysburg by daybreak. Tonight, they would finally see the so-called progenitor of the vampires. Both James and Victor were very excited.

Night fell, a few miles ahead.

Adam and Vadoma stood to the side, watching as several vampires used iron bars to pry up the tracks, while others piled massive boulders in the center of the path. Vadoma waved her hand to disperse the dust filling the air and asked somewhat abruptly, "Must we wait?"

"Do you really think these few rocks will stop them?" Adam looked very serious; Vadoma couldn't remember the last time she had seen him look so earnest.

"My naive sister, one must never flee when it is time to face things. Or are you worried that I might be defeated?"

Vadoma lowered her eyes, trembling as she said, "He and his brother have killed too many of our kin. There has never been a human like this, never..."

"They are your kin." Adam gently brushed a strand of hair from Vadoma's ear, caressing her slender cheek, and said softly, "Is it because it has been too long that you have forgotten? Forgotten that you are all merely my creations."

Woo-woo! Woo!

The sharp whistle of the steam train came from not far away. The rhythmic clatter of the tracks grew closer and closer. The train's high-beam headlight illuminated Adam's eerie, pale face. He licked the corner of his mouth and smiled happily.