"Vampires are neither inhuman nor nonhuman nor all-too-human; they are simply more alive than they should be."
Nina Auerbach | Our Vampires, Ourselves 

The Watcher's Gaze

When I was younger, I got sick one winter. I remember the world seemed to freeze. People and things would turn the most violent red, and Mama had difficulty breaking the fever. I was twelve.

We didn't know why the fever came and didn't leave. I can still smell and hear the bitter vials Doc brought to treat me, burning, acrid as they were, my mind floating as my skin burned.

But that wasn't all I remembered. Dreams or images flashed inside my mind.

Dreams of something hunting me, following me, breathing down on my neck with something hot and sticky running down my arms, neck, and back. I would cry when I realized nothing else was in the dark except a candle lighting the room.

One day, I woke up and felt normal. No more aches or pain in any part of my body except for my left leg, and that's where it started. The room smelled like my mother's cinnamon oil, mixed in with the acrid scent of those vials, but nothing more.

Days later, when Doc returned and examined me, he decided I needed fresh air, sunlight, and movement to help my leg heal a little more and prevent any weakness. He told Mama it would only be a matter of months before I would walk right as rain. She was pleased with it, I guess. Her baby had survived. But I was never able to walk right again.

Doc said if it had been taken care of with the proper procedure, my leg would have been regular, or my muscles would have been strengthened. But since they didn't know what to do or how to fix it, I had to live with it. Doc said once I was older, he could hook me up with one of those fancy gadgets to help me walk better, but I wasn't interested in seeing one. That was years later, after growing up on the ranch with the way my leg was, and Daddy couldn't see the point in shelling out the money for something heavy like that, let alone the repairs it might require.

Uncle had a few ideas and always told me the best way was hard work. Get myself moving, get some muscle. He said to remember what would happen to any lazy ranch hand with a limp. Over time, it had faded into background noise.

I have a strange love and adoration for the ranch. It wasn't going to stop me from enjoying it, not going to get in the way of me making sure the cows didn't die or some no account try to steal any of the herds. As the world shifts under my feet, or if one day I wake up and it starts raining wolves, I’d handle it. 

***

The sun hung low in the sky, a distant ball of bright warmth that beat down on me in waves. Though it was past the highest point and was a few hours away from dipping behind the hills, it was still as blinding as it was at high noon. Maybe that was thanks to the landscape.

Twinstone was well-named, nestled beneath mountains with similar jutting peaks known as the Deadmist Mountains. The town wasn't too large compared to the other frontier towns around us, and most of its lights were powered by natural sources rather than electricity. We didn't have much need for electricity, considering how hot it got without the blazing sun beaming down on us, but it sure was nice not to have to pay for something that might use up all the water. Water was more valuable out here than the cattle and horses. Without any other life-sustaining thing close by, you had no choice but to hoard what little fresh water ran into the area, which we didn't have to do often, being right along the bank of the Hampnear River.

Our ranch was the closest to the edge of town, a sprawling piece of land with acres of barbed wire-caged pasture and plenty of shade-giving trees for our animals. There was enough to feed all our animals, enough for another ranch, and some left over for the fields a handful of the cowpunchers on the property tended to when nothing else was happening.

At twenty-five, I never considered myself a picky man, but I would take the view of a canyon or desert over almost any of the cities that dotted the country.

In the sky, I spotted an airship cruising by, dark against the sun, which glinted off its shining metalwork and giant metal propellers on the back of it. It cast a long, cool shadow as it moved across, blocking out the intense sun for only a second or two. I sighed and readjusted my hat, thinking about that airship. We all knew where it was going: above the twin cities and over the mountain. The mountain range held cities built deep into the mountain's bowels, with people who went days without seeing the sunlight. Or, so I had heard, not having visited myself. I was never too sure why they called it the twin cities, perhaps because of the way the two peaks of the mountains stuck out.

“Where do you reckon it’s comin’ from, Eli?” My younger brother, Ben, asked from atop his horse, a gray mare with a small white blaze named Brandy. His hazel eyes peered at the airship, the same brown hat shading his face. His head tipped upwards while the ship passed over, taking one hand off the reins to remove his hat and squinting a little.

“Can’t say.” I shrugged and took the time to remove my hat and wipe a hand across the skin to remove some sweat. With the shade given to us by a tall poplar tree, it was still warm. Not the type of heat you wanted to stay in for long, but also not the kind you had much of a choice for unless you lived in a city with central air conditioning. “Orion, far out on the coast somewhere, maybe.”

Ben hummed in thought. He was the more thoughtful of the two. I was never the smartest of fellas, but that didn't mean I wasn't the hardest worker. Sometimes, Ben overthought things. A lot of the time, Ben did more daydreaming than work. But he was only twenty, so I couldn’t blame him for wanting to slack off.

His gaze made its way down from the sky and back to me. He cracked a goofy grin, looking like an idea had dawned on him, and his brain had short-circuited from the stress.

A frown was quick to form. What did that goofball come up with this time?

He snickered briefly and let his gaze roll around the surrounding land, “Ever thought about bein' in an airship?”

“An' where did ya pull that from, Benny?” I scowled a bit at my brother, taking my hat and tapping my thigh to remove some dust.

“You know, they have a lotta more open spaces up in the sky!” He pulled the reins, directing his horse to the south of mine and allowing her to graze on the few clumps of grass sticking up among the dust.

I forced a deep, low chuckle between my teeth and did the same, urging my gelding Cash forward to join him.

“That is a stretch, my friend.” I tipped my hat to him as I turned Cash away again, moving him closer to the fence post for me to tie him off. My leg ached something fierce, so dismounting wasn't my top priority.

My eyes moved down from the horizon, a good view of our cattle to check if any were sick. The herd wasn't huge and was no challenging task to watch. But sometimes, we wouldn't catch on if we were short a man or two. I removed my hat again, ran a hand through my brown locks, pulled the band off so my hair was freed, and tied the band on my wrist. It wasn’t too short, but long enough to tie it back if I wanted with the heat. I lifted my eyes again, staring up into the mountainside, imagining the massive cave dwellings the bloodsucker society lived in. I imagined they weren't the richest of the rich, considering a few prominent places deeper into the valley had almost every possible comfort and commodity a person could ask for, at least for humans.

For those bloodsuckers who lurked in the darkness, those big, fancy homes I pictured suited them fine.

It wasn't anything new. There's been an arrangement since the very start of history. Humans are always willing to agree, as Daddy had said. They minded their business up in the mountains, and we minded our own down here—unless there was trouble, and there were always rumors—recent rumors. 

Looking at the mountains always made me nervous; my heart hammered in my chest and sent adrenaline racing through me. If I looked hard enough, sometimes I swore they could see me through the thick rock. Not that the city could be seen through the thick cavern walls.

My hand quickly grabbed the band around my wrist and rolled it on my fingers, noticing the stretch and compression against my flesh. It kept my hands busy.

Since the drought three years ago, we haven't had many ranch hands, and many individuals have moved on from Twinstone to the more prosperous towns around the coast. Despite this, we managed, even if there was less money and work for all of us.

“Oy, Elijah!”

My neck cracked as it popped, and I spun my horse around. Ben's mare was only a few meters away, but he had wandered closer to the boundary, meaning he was closer to the highway, which made him a sitting duck to anyone who rode past. He could just about take care of himself, let alone another man.

My arms were beginning to ache, and sweat ran down my forehead and dribbled on my cheek. Despite my aching leg, I managed to hop down, grunt, and secure Cash to the nearby fence post.

“Yeah, what do you need, Ben? Not busy enough for your likin'? Need a little excitement, I would've reckoned?” A bit of an awkward walk led me closer to him, not precisely awkward due to my bad leg. This time, the awkward movement was because of my current exhaustion and irritation with my younger brother. But he was my only real brother, with five sisters and an older brother, Jeb. I couldn’t say I hated the guy; it wasn’t very polite. But Jeb had run off with a gang, and Daddy nearly had a fit. He was all right as far as older siblings go, but he's not someone I want to hang around anymore. Not that any of us had seen him in years, anyhow.

The thought of Jeb rang a bittersweet tune in my heart, a mix of longing and deep-seated anger. Jeb was the embodiment of strength and adventure, whom I once admired so much. Our bond was of common blood, but it seemed less than that nowadays. I remembered the look on Daddy’s face when he left, a gaze of disappointment mixed with fear. He had worked hard to keep us all safe and functioning like a well-oiled machine, and then Jeb had run off without as much as a goodbye. 

The ground beneath my feet crunched beneath my boots, and my eyes remained on my brother's back. The fading sunlight made the twin cities stand out like massive eyes, constantly peering and watching.

My eyebrows pinched together as I approached Ben, whose back was as straight as a broomstick. Something must've startled him. I couldn't blame him. Where there was civilized was feral, and you'd best pray to whatever you believed in, and you never have to cross paths with the latter. But it was still daytime, so the chances of running into anything fearsome were slim.

A familiar pain sparked through my thigh, and I let out a short yelp before limping to the tree Ben was frozen underneath. His mare turned her head towards me, dark and dull eyes staring me down. Nothing was exciting about a cow or horse anymore, not after how many times a day we'd seen them. Nothing was too new or exciting now.

I placed a hand on the tree. “You see somethin’, Benjamin? Reckon I get the rifle for some wolves? Coyotes?” My lips pressed into a tight line as I continued my gaze: nothing but brush, rock, and cows on the far horizon.

I rubbed my thigh. Though I wore britches and had it wrapped up pretty well when it was hot like this, it did little to help the constant twinge and ache when I tried to take a few extra steps or move too quickly.

“You sure ya didn't hit that noggin' when you jumped off, brother?” I shot as a frown formed on my lips. “Maybe ya seen a snake? Maybe a bandit-”

My words stopped when I looked up again and locked eyes with the figure standing under a gnarly oak a few yards away. They hadn't been before. I would've sworn it had been an empty patch. That or someone managed to sneak up right next to us while I was dismounted.

Ben, ever the dense, leaned a little closer, jutting his head in the stranger's direction and turning his head a little. He brought his hands on either side of his mouth, yelling at him as loud as possible.

“Oy! You alright, ol' sport? Get lost from yer folks? This here is private property.”

While he yelled his fool head off to the poor guy, I turned to Ben, snapping my fingers and making him look at me. “Are you serious?” I mouthed to him.

Why wasn't he the least bit worried? First, the fella popped up out of nowhere. Second, Ben understood the rules, and if it wasn't clear, according to Daddy, anybody you didn’t know could be a threat, or worse, something not human.

The two of us then got quiet. The air became tenser. If either of us felt the least bit scared, it would be Benjamin. 

The stranger stood no more than twenty feet away. Had he not made a sound? His coat was tattered and dirty, with no doubt weeks of mud and dirt caked in it, maybe a lot more than it looked. The faded green was a sickly color, something someone would've worn before the 100-Year War, maybe when things started to become popular among the rich and powerful. It was, by all means, nothing I'd seen in a long time - if ever.

As I examined him closer, no traces of redness showed under his eyes, and his cheeks were sunken and hollow.

I glanced back to my brother, who had the stupidest smile on his cheeks. The sight made my eyebrows dip into a furrow. There was no real reason for this guy to get this close; his smile made this whole thing much worse. If that wasn't enough to put me on edge, I can't imagine the sweat running down my back and pooling into my trousers helping my anxious thoughts.

The dogs must have been taking their sweet time. Otherwise, we may have been alerted to the stranger, but they hadn’t come yipping and snarling to meet our visitor.

As we stared each other down, I realized that his stance was similar to that of a dog crouching and walking low to the ground—maybe not as exaggerated, but low and slow, his hands resting in his pockets. There wasn't anything wrong with him, nothing to make him out as a danger or threat to us, despite what my gut told me.

He didn’t act like someone who had suddenly appeared out of thin air.

Then he slowly lifted his head, his lips formed into a grin, one eyebrow cocked, almost as if he was enjoying the sudden terror of the moment. He looked from the corner of his eyes first as if making sure he had a full view of us without moving his head. A dead stare followed his slight movements with the same intensity as a cornered animal. He held the expression for a minute, an emotionless look plastered on his face, looking both tired and interested, all at the same time. Then, the slight movement that had drawn my attention ended as he broke his gaze, glancing off into the distance and focused elsewhere.

The sound of hooves behind us caught our attention, and both Ben and I turned to see our uncle riding towards us, stopping a good meter behind us. Uncle Cas was the spitting image of our father, with a bushy beard and mustache, long, slicked-back hair, and a square face. His grin stretched wide. He helped Daddy run the ranch as the overseer. He was like the second in command. Uncle Cas wasn’t any less strict than Daddy. He had us do everything on the ranch and then a bit more on top of our other duties.

“What are you two fools doin?” Uncle snapped, pulling a long piece of straw from his mouth.

Ben and I both stiffened. The tension between me and this stranger was ignored and dismissed. It was funny that two grown men would react in such a way. It was part fear and part respect that always made me shift into a proper standing position when it came to him.

“Cas,” Ben began. “There’s some stranger over -”

“Ain't nobody out there.” Uncle's words cut through us.

Unlike Daddy, Uncle didn't have a gentle or soft tone in the first place, but now his tone was icy—not so much the usual stern that I had always assumed his words were.

“Maybe a ghost, come back to get the two idiots that should've been watchin’ cattle.” His tone didn't lighten the tension, only making it worse. I tried to step forward. I turned around to where we had seen the stranger and, instead, found him gone, along with all signs or traces he had ever been. He was just gone.

I saw a bit of light glimmer across something as I looked harder. Some object lay near a rock where Ben had first seen him standing. Was it something he dropped, or had he been holding and set it down before vanishing?

“Come on, boys.” Uncle turned his horse, giving him a nudge. Both of us started back toward our horses with no complaint. There were only the distant sounds of grazing cattle and Uncle's horseshoes clacking against the dry, packed ground.

“Hold up,” I said to Ben, waiting to make sure Uncle was out of sight before turning around and heading out to where the stranger had been, as the object left behind shone. Uncle had given me something he needed me to do, but my curiosity got the better of me. I reached for it, a bit of light hitting what appeared to be a pocket watch, but none like I had ever seen before.

Most pocket watches were rounded with a simple face and made of wood or tin. Those of finer tastes and wealth owned some that would glimmer and shine with a gold case and face, and some intricate designs worked on the clock itself. It's not like most of us ranch hands ever got a hold of one to inspect, anyway.

The one in my hand was neither; the casing was blackened and scuffed. I flipped it over, eyes narrowing at a symbol etched onto the surface—what looked to be a wolf or large cat; I wasn't sure. When the casing came undone, a strong gust of wind whipped around me, forcing the watch closed. My eyes widened and immediately snapped, looking toward the mountains.

“Eli!” Ben called out for me. Maybe he figured we needed to head back quickly. He knew Uncle had given us jobs, and we weren’t being paid to sit around and play with things found in the middle of the prairie.

The wind still hadn't stopped, and goosebumps rose on my arms. A shiver raced down my spine, and an unsettling pit formed in my stomach. The wind still gusted and howled, cold as ice and biting.

A strong urge and push from my gut had me lift the watch and look into its open face.

It glowed a faint and ghastly green, ticking softly, almost in slow motion. But what had made me still, holding my breath, was the sight of the sun moving across the clock in fast motion, like a speeding carriage, before a figure loomed behind the sun, head looking straight into me. It sent a chill down my spine and made me stumble, nearly missing the tree beside me.

“Let's go!” Ben called again. I let out a nervous, short laugh before tucking the watch into my breast pocket. I hobbled a little, avoiding any stones that could hurt or slow me down, back to the horses. The strange occurrence was forgotten as I had no time to dwell on it. Uncle could already be irritated that we hadn’t returned fast enough. I wasn't keen to find out.

“Should get going. Probably has an errand for us to do. You know how Uncle and Daddy would respond.” I commented, voice still a tad bit shaky and a forced smile. It's not like we could talk about it on the way back. Ben would most likely contribute to being out in the heat or something like that. Either way, I didn't bother to worry about it. Not a few seconds later, I looked again toward the horizon and met that strange sensation of being watched, eyes lingering on me. Like the stranger himself, that sensation was also gone as quickly as it had shown.

The cold bite that had struck my bones had subsided, but that couldn't ease my nerves, even as we crossed the bridge and rode back home.

Though it wasn’t unusual that Daddy would want us home before the sunset, I couldn’t help but look into the distance a bit more. I had tried to be attentive to the surrounding world and the conversation Ben was attempting. I couldn’t muster an answer when I realized that, the entire discussion, I had been too distracted, my mind on what that man had been doing in the prairie, the peculiar feeling that accompanied him, and the vision the pocket-watch had shown.