Chapter 27

In the cramped confines of the attic, Mark stood by a small window covered by tarpaper, vigorously drying his hair with a towel. His wet hair clung to his forehead, and droplets of water splashed onto the wooden floor beneath him. As he looked back at the adults, their faces reflected a mix of worry and fear after hearing the information about the vampires.

Despite the tension in the room, Mark's eyes softened when he glanced at the children he had rescued. They were huddled together in a corner, blissfully unaware of the adults' concerns. Their innocent laughter filled the attic as they quietly played, their small hands creating imaginary worlds.

A warm smile played on Mark's lips as he watched the children, a sense of fulfillment washing over him. Saving them from the horrors outside gave him a profound sense of purpose. He couldn't help but feel a swell of pride, a quiet satisfaction at having made a difference in their lives. It wasn't arrogance, it was the genuine joy of knowing he had kept them from their gruesome fate. The feeling was more than good, it was incredibly rewarding.

Amidst the children's laughter, one of the mothers gently reprimanded them with a subtle gesture, signaling them to lower their voices. Mark couldn't help but chuckle at the scene.

Looking out the window, Mark noticed that the snowfall had finally stopped. The dusky light throughout the day is gradually turning even darker as the evening approaches. The town was gradually becoming shrouded in an even deeper darkness, the snowy landscape taking on a more obscure and gloomy appearance.

In the middle of the group's conversation, Isaac suddenly blurted out, "Where's Catherine? Catherine?" Stella looked worried, and Wilson, kneeling next to Isaac, patiently said, "Mom died from lung cancer, Dad – sixteen years back."

Isaac frowned, clearly confused. Just then, there was a loud crash outside that made everyone freeze. Stella and Eben quickly joined Mark at the window, all of them peering out, trying to figure out what had caused the noise.

A bit further down the street, the door to a home lay abandoned on the snowy pavement, two of Marlow's creatures were visible, wreaking havoc as they tore through the place.

Stella's voice cut through the tension, "They're ransacking the Clarks' place—tearing through everyone's home." Her words hung in the air, emphasizing the widespread destruction happening in the neighborhood.

The group absorbed the news with dread, each member mentally calculating the growing threat they faced.

"Don't panic," Mark interjected, his voice calm. "As long as we keep quiet, they won't find us. We can wait for another blizzard to provide cover and then move to the utilidor in town."

Eben's eyes lit up with understanding. "That's a solid plan. That's the strongest building in town—they can't tear that down easily. Plus, the generators are underground, they won't hear a thing. We get there we can last the month. But it's so far, with the size of our group we can't really head there till another storm gives us cover."

Despite Mark and Eben's efforts to reassure them, Doug's panic grew stronger. "We can't just wait here, hoping for a blizzard to save us," he exclaimed, his voice frantic. "We need to run now! Some of us might not make it, but it's better than waiting to die here!"

Jake sneered, "Then you might want to wait a few more days, lose a little weight so you won't be bringing up the rear."

His words earned a chuckle from Mark, who glanced at Doug's belly, but Doug's patience snapped. His palm connected with Jake's face in a resounding slap. Eben, his instincts kicking in, reacted instantly. He brutally seized Doug by the neck, locking eyes with Doug in a wordless but intense warning. The others watched them in silent.

Stella's voice intervened, halting them from escalating further. "Start a fight, the noise will get us killed faster. You want that?" Doug heard, his sulking demeanor reflecting a reluctant understanding. Eben's grip on Doug loosened. Eben took a deep breath and turned to the others.

"The next blizzard, we'll be ready."

The group nodded in unison. Mark cast one last glance outside the window, confirming that the vampires had already left. Satisfied, he placed a reassuring hand on Stella's shoulder and made his way to his bedding, settling down comfortably. Denise and Kirsten followed suit, Denise checking her phone for a signal in frustration, while Kirsten hugged her knees, lost in thought.

Mark couldn't help but ask Kirsten, "Are you okay?" Denise, her expression filled with concern, placed her useless phone in his coat and looked at Kirsten, waiting for her response. Kirsten met their gaze and said, her voice heavy with regret, "I can't help but think that I should have left with my father when he left the town yesterday." She managed a sad smile. Denise hugged her by the shoulder, offering silent comfort.

'At least you're safe now.' Mark thought. He couldn't help but remember Kirsten's original fate in the movie. She would have been used as bait by the vampires, pleading for help on the street to lure the residents out. When her desperate attempts proved futile, she was tortured and killed by them, dying in a pitiful state of despair.

Denise, noticing Mark's still wet hair from the bath, glanced at Kirsten and suggested, "Why don't we both freshen up? A bit of self-care might help us feel better." Her thoughtful suggestion aimed to bring a sense of normalcy to their situation, providing a brief moment of respite.

Cautiously, they made their way down from the attic. Mark joined them, providing hot water for their makeshift baths. It was the least he could do in gratitude for Denise's relief service last night. To Mark's surprise, he found out that there was still water, as the pipes were insulated. Denise explained that the main valve had just been turned off when the homeowner left the town.

He waited for them to finish bathing, sitting in silence as he smoked and sipped his favorite milked coffee. Carefully, he exhaled the smoke inside his storage space, ensuring it wouldn't taint the smell of the house.

When he heard the bathroom door open, Kirsten shyly emerged, already dressed in clothes they had found in the house. She nodded at Mark before making her way back up to the attic. Denise, peeking out from the bathroom, winked at Mark. He chuckled in response and swiftly joined her inside.

Spontaneous bodily sounds erupted from the closed door.

After hours had passed, they emerged from the bathroom, their spirits lifted and a sense of relief evident on their faces. Denise, flushed and breathless, couldn't help but comment, "That... Was the most intense stress reliever I've ever experienced. Thanks." She kissed Mark's cheeks gratefully.

Mark chuckled, a mixture of pride and amusement in his eyes. He playfully slapped her butt, making it jiggle as he assisted her in climbing back up to the attic.

On the third day, Mark woke up, silently squeezing and removing his hands from under Stella's clothes. He then carefully detached Denise's hand from inside his pants. Kirsten hugging Denise deep in her sleep.

He stood up, careful not to wake them, and nodded at the lookout before heading down to the bathroom to finish his daily routine. After joining the others for breakfast, he took the keys of the utilidor from Carter and left his thermos bottle for Stella before venturing outside their refuge to scavenge from house to house. His ribs had already healed from the damage he had taken.

Gazing up at the cloudy sky, where although the clouds loomed, no snowflakes were falling, he strategically placed bear traps on the rooftops of their sanctuary and the nearby houses. His hope was that these traps would catch the vampires who often stalked on the roofs, providing an added layer of early warning for their group.

Moving on to the other houses he hadn't visited yet, Mark managed to find several more residents. Their hiding place was near the utilidor door, so he led them there swiftly using the crawl spaces under the houses. As they arrived, a wave of satisfaction washed over him. Mark's hand caressed the rough texture of the thick concrete wall, and he tapped the imposing metal doors, reassured by their solid presence.

Inside the utilidor, Mark was pleased to find the interior remarkably spacious. The vastness of the space offered a temporary reprieve from the claustrophobic atmosphere in the attic.

Seeing the refugees huddled, tired, scared, and hungry, Mark took a moment to remind them. He kindly emphasized that, for their security, they should keep the door closed unless he contacted them through the walkie-talkie.

After leaving them with supplies, walkie-talkies, and pistols for protection, Mark made sure they were settled before venturing out again.

Along the way, he encountered vampires, each appearing isolated as they skulked through the houses. Their individual hunting made them easy pickings for Mark. With precise actions, he dealt with them one by one, taking them down silently and efficiently. He had already captured all the female vampires he marked except Iris, moving them back to his makeshift prison bus for containment.