Chapter 24

In the dim light of the attic, the survivors huddled close, seeking solace in the amber glow of the propane heater. Mark and Stella, their bodies close, shared a whispered conversation with the group - Denise, Kirsten, Billy, Peggy, and their two terrified teenage daughters, Doug, Beau, Carter, Lucy, Jake, Helen, Wilson, and Isaac.

Eben, his curiosity piqued, couldn't contain his question. His eyes flicked toward Mark and Stella before he asked Denise, "How did you know about this attic, Denise?" His inquiry drew the attention of everyone present, their faces reflecting a mixture of curiosity.

Denise hesitated for a moment, "Does it matter?" she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze darting instinctively toward Mark.

Eben, his tone insistent. "I need to know the odds someone else could know about it, too."

Denise bit her lip, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Um, Charlie hid me here once," she admitted, her voice barely audible over the hum of the heater. "When his wife came home early from work."

The others nodded in understanding, unwilling to pass judgment. Mark offered her a reassuring thumbs-up, and a small, sheepish smile played on Denise's lips. Stella, observing the exchange, finally settled the matter. "Glad he did," she said.

Meanwhile, Jake's voice broke the momentary silence, his eyes fixed on the dwindling canisters of propane. "How long will these things last?" he inquired, his face etched with concern.

Eben weighed the situation, his brow furrowed in thought. "Maybe a week. Maybe a little longer," he replied, his gaze fixed on the precious but finite source of warmth.

Jake's eyes widened in realization. "Then what?" he asked, his expression reflecting the shared concern of the group, except for Mark, who look thoughtful.

"Then we find more," Eben said, his gaze firm.

Lucy, added, "And maybe those people give up and go elsewhere." Her hopeful tone provided a glimmer of optimism amidst the uncertainty.

Stella, though, voiced the skepticism that lingered in everyone's minds. "Where are they going to go, exactly?" she questioned, her brow furrowed with worry.

Wilson, slowly comprehending their situation, spoke up, his voice tinged with apprehension. "I don't think they ARE people," he admitted, his words hanging heavily in the air. Isaac lying beside him, dazed from the grip of Alzheimer's, mumbled in confusion, "Wilson – I want to go home." Wilson patted his father soothingly.

Jake, his voice filled with awe, continued. "I saw one earlier," he said, seeking validation from Mark and Helen. "It attacked us, but Mark managed to take it down and burned it." His words mix of fear and fascination.

Stella, despite her experience that night, remained skeptical. "Vampires are made up, Jake," she insisted, attempting to ground the group in reality.

"It's like he's a vampire, you know? It had, like, fangs," Jake added, his eyes wide. Helen seated beside him nodded, confirming Jake's account.

Stella, recalling the features of their attacker earlier, offered a different theory. "Maybe they think they're vampires. Maybe they filed their teeth down and they're some sort of cult," she suggested, trying to make sense of the inexplicable.

Doug, his voice tinged with hysteria, interjected, "They don't fall when you shoot them!" His fear was palpable, mirroring the group's growing anxiety.

Beau, bravely added, "Hell, neither do I."

Eben, his voice calm yet serious, chimed in, "Just because they're as stubborn as Beau doesn't make them supernatural. Look, I don't care what they are. I just care what we do about them."

Denise, her tone heavy with despair, delivered the final blow to their hopes. "There won't be any help for a month," she stated, her words hanging in the attic, heavy with the weight of their isolation and the uncertainty of their fate.

"Oh, God," Kirsten's voice overlapped with despair.

"We can't last that long!" Lucy exclaimed.

Mark rises and stretches , determined to put down the growing panic –

"Look, panicking won't do us any good. Let's eat first then regain our composure, alright? After that, we can figure out what to do next." He discreetly took his bag in his storage and procured water bottles , sandwiches and chocolate bars. He passed it onto them. They thank him and ate in silence. Stella was impressed by how Mark handled the situation.

Mark ate quickly, as if it might be his last meal. The earlier fight left him ravenous. Physically, he wasn't tired because of his resilient vitality, but mentally, he was drained from the battle, particularly after Marlow's brutal attack. Bleeding and shaken from earlier, He needed to de-stress, he sought comfort, leaning on Stella's soft figure as he ate, ignoring the disapproving glances from Eben and some of the other refugees.

As Mark nibbled on his sandwich, Kirsten moved closer to him, her eyes reflecting gratitude. "I haven't thanked you yet for bringing me here. Thank you," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

Meanwhile, Stella's comforting warmth enveloped Mark as she listened in on their conversation.

Mark grinned and winked at her, trying to lighten the mood. "Oh, and you're welcome," he teased, remembering how Kirsten had screamed like a banshee when he carried her on his shoulder earlier. "I promise next time I'll give you a smoother ride," he added with a playful chuckle.

Kirsten blushed in embarrassment, her cheeks turning a rosy hue, and she looked apologetic.

Denise, noticing the interaction between Kirsten and Mark, moved closer to them with a curious expression on her face. ""Hey, I heard you can fight those people. They are really strong, aren't they?" she inquired, her voice filled with genuine interest.

"I'm strong too, you know," Mark said, trying to flex despite the bandages wrapped around him. The girls chuckled, finding his attempt amusing.

"Okay, strong guy, take it easy," Stella teased gently. "Don't make sudden moves; your injury is still fresh." Her words were filled with concern.

"Yes, my beautiful nurse," Mark said, teasingly. "I promise to behave, just for you." He playfully blew her a kiss.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help but chuckle. They continued chatting until they finished their food.

While Eben delivered his speech about their next steps, Mark placed a large bedding, pillows, and a comfy blanket in a dark corner for added privacy within their attic shelter. Stella watched him, her curiosity piqued and astonishment clear in her eyes, wondering how he continued to produce these items from his seemingly ordinary bag. She really wanted to ask, her curiosity getting the best of her, but she refrained, not wanting to pry into his secrets.

"Are you going to join me?" Mark asked Stella, his tone inviting. He noticed Kirsten and Denise turning to them and looking interested, seemingly eager to share the bedding too, driven by the lack of a more comfortable place to sleep. The urgency of their situation prevented them from acquiring proper bedding, forcing the refugees to rely on some old blankets and discarded clothes they could find in the attic.

Stella hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Just remember, behave," she whispered to Mark, her voice soft, mindful of the other refugees sharing the attic with them.

"Hey, what do you think of me?" Mark complained. Stella raised an eyebrow at him.

He coughed and turned to the other girls. "Why don't you two join us too?" he suggested. Then, he added with a joking smile, "But remember, no grabby hands, alright? Consider yourselves warned," earning a chuckle from Stella.

As they both cheered quietly and settled down, Mark positioned himself in the center. Stella sat to his right, a little distance away, with Denise on his left and Kirsten beside her. They arranged themselves comfortably, ensuring there was space between them.

He pouted at Stella, looking pitiful. Stella mouthed, "Later," reassuring him. Mark's mental exhaustion took its toll, and he unconsciously drifted off to sleep.

After Eben finished his morale-boosting speech and took on the role of the lookout for the night, he couldn't help but glance towards Stella. He watched her nod at him and then settle down on the bedding next to Mark. Eben sighed, attempting to ignore the sense of loss he was feeling. Billy, after settling his wife and two daughters, followed Eben's gaze. He stood up and patted Eben's shoulder, silently joining him for the lookout duty.

In the depths of the night, Mark suddenly woke up, sensing a warm and wet feeling beneath him. The howl of the winds and the sound of snow were audible even within the confines of the attic. He glanced around in a daze, noticing Billy dozing off in one corner and Eben peeking outside from a peephole, both far from where he was. He patted downwards with a sigh. As he turned sideways, he noticed Stella in a deep, quiet snore nearby. Turning to the other side, he saw Kirsten still sleeping peacefully.

As the sensation subsided, he turned sideways and hugged Stella close, making himself comfortable. He heard a rustling sound, as if someone was adjusting under the blanket, and felt a warm arm wrapping around him from behind, pulling him even closer. The night continued peacefully as he slept in satisfaction.