Turned

the air was clear and crisp and the sun was just scattering its last red rays across the valley. Every occupant of the camp seemed to have gathered in front of the farmhouse to see us off.  Clouds of warm breath erupted from their mouths as they waited, chattering as we stood in the cool air.  When my brother emerged, they quieted so that by the time he approached the top of the stairs I could hear his footsteps as he crossed the porch.  He had a big smile on his face as he looked out across the crowd.  The party that was heading south stood directly in front of him, surrounded by the crowd which formed a half circle with the porch as its diameter.                “Tonight, we go south to begin what we’ve prepared for these last three years.  Think of us as you lay in your warm beds because we’ll be braving the cold, sleeping on the ground and eventually clearing the land of the General’s cronies so that we can claim what is rightfully ours.”  No clouds of breath escaped my brother’s lips though he belted the speech out.  Everyone knew that my brother was a vampire I thought, but they denied the fact even to themselves because they feared that without my brother everything that they had would fall apart.  “Come spring, you’ll be planting in black soil by the Mississippi.”  The crowd roared.  A wave of hats flew into the air and then fluttered to the ground.  I never ceased to be surprised by the difference between a lone man and a group. In some way they ceased to be individual units and became a large organic creation driven by its own needs and desires.  A crowd was a far less rational creature then men or women alone. It fed on violence and noise.  They thundered on for several minutes setting the dogs to barking and howling as they trotted around the outskirts of the group.  My brother descended the steps like a king waving to the crowd and blowing kisses to women.  I could see the preacher standing quietly with a smug expression on his face on the far side of the crowd. He nodded slightly to me as I caught his eye, but I did not acknowledge it.

We turned and followed my brother as he began down the lane still basking in the adoration of the crowd who continued to cheer.  They would have thrown flowers if there had been in bloom.  The crowd parted around him somewhat reluctantly as if they all wanted to be close to him one last time, though none of them touched him or even spoke to him except to yell encouragement. We were through the boisterous throng in a couple of minutes and behind us the cheers subsided quickly like a fire put out with a pot of water.  Suddenly the men and women who were left behind were just standing in the dark and the cold and they soon began to scurry back to their normal routines.  A few children scampered along behind us happily for a few minutes more before they grew bored and turned back.  We walked along in an oppressive silence.  I strained to make out any sounds from the village behind us or from any animals but the only sound other than our footsteps was the inexorable tumbling of the stream as it made its way south.  When we crossed the bridge our footsteps on the wood sounded like an army at march but then the illusion evaporated as we were back on the dirt road on the other side.  The crazy vampire in the old man’s body was waiting on the other side with three wagons and a pile of packs smoking and grinning foolishly.  On the other side of the wagon a group of tightly trussed thralls with canvas bags over their heads wiggled like worms on the ground grunting and rolling ineffectually. Some of the vampires in the group went immediately over to the thralls and begin to cut the bonds away from their ankles keeping them tightly reined in as they caught scent of the men in the group.  One man lured the thralls over to the front of the wagon where they were secured into a team of six for each wagon.  Despite being blinded with the canvas bags each team had to be held on short leads so that they didn’t chase after the humans.  Once each team was in place, the vampires picked up their bags and hopped into the back of the wagons, two of which were covered over with beige tarps. Other vamps crowded onto the seat with the driver.  I stood on a running board alongside one of the wagons with a few other vampires holding onto the wooden frame for support.  My brother waved his hand and three men jumped onto the platforms in front of the teams, the reins were released, and the thralls began to run after the men.  The wagons shook and creaked as they shot down the road at frightening speeds.  I kept expecting us to take a turn and go skidding off the road overturning in a mass of cold flesh and firearms, but the thrall’s feet gripped surely, and they always managed to turn the wagons.

We travelled the same lonely road that the ambassador and I had followed northward, the pitted pavement providing an easy path for the wagons despite their wood and iron wheels.  There were forty or fifty of us in the party. My brother had brought all the vampires from the camp with him, nearly forty of them.  I imagine he didn’t trust them with the smorgasbord he’d left behind. The remainder of the group was men who were eager to please or like the twins hoped to be blessed by being turned one day. The night was cold, the wind burrowed through my coat and sweater and burnt