The Night Eternal

Columbia University

EPH HAD SKIPPED Gus’s promised meal in order to compose his letter to Zack in one of the empty classrooms down the hall from Joaquin. In doing so, Eph despised the Master at that moment more than he had at any other point in this long, terrible ordeal.

Now he looked over what he had just written. He read it through, trying to approach it as Zack would. Eph had never before considered this from Zachary’s perspective. What would his son think?

Dad loved me—yes.

Dad was a traitor to his friends and his people—yes.

Eph realized, reading this, how saddled with guilt Zack would be. To have the weight of the lost world upon his shoulders. His father having chosen slavery for all for the freedom of one.

Was that really an act of love? Or was that something else?

It was a cheat. It was the easy way out. Zack would get to live as a human slave—if the Master fulfilled its end of the bargain—and the planet would become a vampire’s nest for eternity.

Eph had the sensation of awakening, as though from a fever dream. How could he ever have considered this? It was almost as though, having allowed the Master’s voice into his head, he had also allowed a bit of corruption or insanity. As if the Master’s malignant presence had mentally nested inside Eph’s mind and started to metastasize. Thinking of this actually made him fear for Zack more than ever: he feared Zack being alive next to that monster.

Eph heard someone approaching from the hallway and quickly closed his diary and slid it underneath his pack—just as the door opened.

It was Creem, his bulk nearly filling the door frame. Eph had expected Mr. Quinlan, and Creem’s presence threw him off. At the same time, Eph was relieved: Mr. Quinlan would have seen right through his distress, Eph felt.

“Hey, doc. Looking for you. Alone time, huh?”

“Getting my head straight.”

“I was looking for that Dr. Martinez, but she’s busy.”

“I don’t know where she is.”

“Off somewhere with the big dude, the exterminator.” Creem walked in and closed the door, extending his arm, his sleeve rolled back to his thick elbow. A square pad bandage was adhered to his forearm. “I got this cut I need you to look at. I saw the Mex’s boy there, Joaquin. He’s downright fucked. I need this checked out.”

“Uh, sure.” Eph tried to clear his head. “Let’s see.”

Creem came forward, Eph digging a flashlight out of his pack, taking the man’s wide forearm in hand.

His skin color looked good under the bright beam.

“Peel it back for me,” said Eph.

Creem did, his sausage-thick fingers adorned with silver bling. The bandage pulled off wiry black hairs, but the man didn’t flinch.

Eph shone his flashlight down over the revealed flesh. No cut or abrasion.

“I don’t see anything,” said Eph.

Creem said, “That’s because there’s nothing to see.”

He pulled his arm back, standing there, looking at Eph. Waiting for Eph to figure it out.

Creem said, “The Master said I was to reach out to you in private.”

Eph nearly jumped backward. The flashlight fell from his hands, rolling to his foot. Eph picked it up, fumbling with it to turn off the beam.

The gang leader smiled silverly.

“It’s you?” said Eph.

“And you?” said Creem. “Didn’t make no sense.” Creem looked back at the closed door before continuing. “Listen, homeboy. You gotta be more present, you know? Gotta speak up more, play the part. You’re not working it hard enough.”

Eph barely heard him. “How long… ?”

“The Master came to me not too long ago. Fucking mowed down the rest of my crew. But I can respect that. This is the Master’s block now, you know?” A silver snap of his fingers. “But it spared me. The Master had other plans. Made me an offer—the same one I made you people.”

“Turn us in… for Manhattan?”

“Well, for a piece. A little black market, some sex trade, gambling. Said it would help keep people distracted and in line.”

“So this… this detonator… it’s all a lie.”

“Naw, that’s real. I was just supposed to infiltrate you people. It was Gus who came to me with the request.”

“What about the book?”

“That silver book you’re always whispering about? The Master didn’t say. That’s what you’re giving him?”

Eph had to play along here. So he nodded.

“You’re the last one I woulda thought. But hey—those others are soon gonna wish they’d made a deal before us.”

Creem smiled silverly again. His metallic expression sickened Eph.

Eph said, “You really think it’ll honor its deal with you?”

Creem made a face. “Why wouldn’t it? You expect it to honor yours?”

“I don’t even know about that.”

“You think it’ll fuck us?” Creem was getting angry. “Why? What are you getting outta this? Better not say this city.”

“My boy.”

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s all? Your boy. For this fucking sacred book and your friends.”

“He’s all I want.”

Creem stepped back, acting impressed but—Eph could tell—thinking Eph a fool. “You know, I got to thinking, when I found out about you. Why two plans? What’s the Master thinking? Is it going to do both deals?”