Black Night Falls

"Why are you helping us, Kenyara?"

Daniel Ferrant took a waterskin from the Black man and struggled to drink. His throat still burned, and his voice was hoarse. The two ragged white men beside him took turns grabbing the waterskin and gulping down its contents. In this godforsaken place, clean drinking water was hard to find.

Kenyara, the man they had called by name, was a wiry Black man who looked to be in his forties. He was short and thin, but his eyes were bright. He hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, though his hands kept deftly peeling some unfamiliar fruit.

"I—I was only a teenager when they sold me to the estate. The early days were hard. Mr. Howlett... No, I don't mean anything bad about him!" Kenyara grew flustered as he spoke and hurriedly tried to explain himself to the others.

Daniel waved a hand and gave him a gentle, reassuring look. Kenyara gradually relaxed and continued, still stumbling over his words.

"Mr. Howlett the younger is a good man. He always was, even as a boy. He treated us very well, so very well. Once he became the master, life for all of us felt like a dream..." Kenyara's vocabulary was limited. When it came to describing things, he basically only knew the words "good" and "bad."

"...He asked if I was willing to help him—help him bring you here. He said that once we got back, he'd give me a huge piece of land. I could farm it freely and grow whatever I wanted, and every crop would be mine! And... and he told me that by then, everyone like me would be able to live as a person, too..."

When he finished, Kenyara looked up and smiled shyly, showing his white teeth. Then he said, "I believe him."

Daniel let out a long sigh, took the fruit Kenyara offered, and munched on it. It was sweet, and its juice was cool and refreshing.

He relaxed for a moment, then continued, "But they're... your people, too, aren't they? This is your homeland. Why do you want to return to the estate? You even risked your life to help us escape."

"They're not my people." Kenyara began eating the fruit too, his head bowed as he spoke in a low voice.

"They only think... that we're thieves. It doesn't matter whether we look like them or not. They think someone like me is even worse... This is my homeland. I'm Kikuyu, but... living here is so hard... so hard..."

Kenyara seemed unwilling to speak any further. He ate his fruit in silence. Seeing this, Daniel didn't press him. Instead, he turned to the two white men beside him. "At this rate, we'll reach Mombasa in another day. There's a British supply port there, so we can contact the estate and figure out how to get back!"

"Damn... It's a shame only the few of us made it out. Blake, Jason, and the others..."

The younger man couldn't hold back his tears. They had never imagined that this expedition would turn out like this. Including the local guides and porters, there had been more than twenty of them. In the end, only four had escaped... Who would have thought the world contained a tribe so mysterious and terrifying?

"It was my fault. If only we hadn't gone so deep. Don't cry, David. Escaping is the best thing we could have hoped for. Once we get back, James might still be able to find a way to save them." Daniel patted David on the shoulder, revealing a strange symbol branded on his arm. The odd mark, which looked like some kind of writing, had clearly been there a long time.

I wonder what James is doing right now... Daniel thought. He reached into his coat and felt a long, flat, black ornament, slowly rubbing it between his fingers. Deep down, he knew that with such a terrifying "person" guarding the place, how could James possibly save them?

"Ah-choo!"

Maybe he'd inhaled some coal dust. James couldn't help sneezing. He rubbed his nose and leaned on his shovel beside the boiler. His linen shirt, once white, was now black with grime, and his beard had grown quite a bit. Compared with his usual neat and polished look, he now looked more like a cowboy.

"This isn't the place for you, Jamie, little girl." Victor stood bare-chested, his body glistening with sweat. Beads of perspiration streamed down him as the boiler's firelight shone over his granite-like muscles, bathing them in red.

He teased James with his favorite joke while using a small, stick-like shovel to keep feeding coal into the boiler.

James wasn't offended. He calmly shot back, "If you used your head and thought about what I taught you, you wouldn't look like a drowned chicken."

Unlike Victor, who was drenched in sweat from the boiler's heat, James hadn't broken a single sweat. Aside from a little coal dust on his clothes, he was still perfectly fresh.

After reaching Huajin, James had gained even greater control over his body. He could open and close his pores as naturally as breathing. Regulating his body temperature and controlling the movement of his organs had become things he could do at will.

Victor paused and scoffed. "Hmph! Who'd want to practice all that weird stuff?"

James took a finely crafted copper cigar case from his pocket, lit a cigar by the fire, and puffed on it as he thought for a moment. Then he tentatively said, "If you mastered it, you might even be able to beat me."

Victor suddenly stopped. He didn't say anything. After a long pause, he went back to shoveling coal into the boiler.

To keep things simple, James and Victor hadn't brought any crew or workers along to operate the steam train they were escorting, in case Adam attacked and hurt any ordinary people. The train wasn't difficult to operate; they just had to put up with shoveling coal into the boiler themselves.

They had already covered most of the distance, and dusk was settling in. At their current speed, they would reach the freight station near Gettysburg by dawn. Tonight, they would finally meet the so-called progenitor of the vampires. James and Victor were both excited.

Night fell. A few miles ahead.

Adam and Vadoma stood to the side, watching several vampires pry at the rails with iron bars while others carried huge boulders and stacked them across the tracks. Vadoma waved a hand to disperse the dust in the air and asked, somewhat out of the blue, "Do we really have to wait?"

"Do you really think a few rocks will stop them?" Adam looked very serious. Vadoma couldn't remember the last time she had seen him like this.

"My naive little sister, when the time comes to face something, you mustn't run from it. Are you worried I'll lose?"

Vadoma lowered her eyes and trembled as she spoke. "He and his brothers have killed too many of our people. There's never been a human like him. Never..."

"Your people." Adam gently tucked a strand of hair behind Vadoma's ear and stroked her long, narrow cheek. "Has it been so long that you've forgotten? Forgotten that you're all just my creations?"

Toot! Toot!

The steam train's shrill whistle sounded in the distance. The rhythmic clatter of wheels against the rails drew nearer, and the train's headlamps illuminated Adam's eerie, pale face. He licked his lips and smiled happily.