Dominion of the Damned

by Jean Marie Bauhaus

  Hannah slid out of the helicopter without taking his hand. As her feet hit the ground, it tilted, and she pitched forward. She managed to hold onto Noah as Konstantin caught her with his free arm. He held her, steadying her, his arm solid and strong. “You’re bleeding,” he said.

  “I hit my head.”

  “Tell me how you feel.”

  “Dizzy.” Her stomach turned over, and she added, “Nauseous.”

  “You probably have a concussion.” He leaned her against the helicopter, and sighed. “You have to give me the baby.”

  “No.” Her voice sounded weak, and it was all she could do to hold Noah and stay upright. But she didn’t want to let him go.

  “Hannah, look at me.” His hand cupped her face and gently turned her to face him. He let go and produced a small flashlight from one of the many pockets of his fatigues. “Keep your eyes open.” He turned the light on and shined it into her eyes. She blinked, but tried to force them to stay open. “You definitely have a concussion,” he said, putting the light away. “You’re in no shape to move right now. You’ll have to stay with Carl while I get the children to safety. Then I’ll come back for you.”

  “Why can’t we all just stay here?”

  “The crash drew their attention. They’re coming.”

  Hannah didn’t have to ask who they were. “Where are you taking them?”

  “There’s a barn.” He pointed behind him. “That way. It’s not far. I can get the children there and come back for you before the others get here. But I have to go now.” He pressed cold metal into her hand. “Can you shoot?”

  “Always.”

  “Good. They’ll be drawn by the scent of blood. I should be back before they reach you, but just in case. Now hand me the baby.”

  Hannah tried to hold onto Noah, but her grip on him was slipping. The doctor caught him and started walking away before she could protest. “Carl, watch out for her,” he called to the pilot, then promised Hannah, “I’ll be right back.”

  He moved so fast that the darkness swallowed him up almost immediately. Noah’s cries grew more distant with each passing second. Hannah hoped that she hadn’t just made another fatal mistake, letting him go.

  Nausea overwhelmed her, and she pitched forward on her hands and knees. She emptied her stomach onto the grass, and then rolled over onto her side.

  “Whoah, there,” Carl the pilot said as he came around the helicopter. “The doc’ll have my head if he comes back and sees you like that.” He helped her to her feet and guided her back into the helicopter, practically lifting her into the back seat. He leaned into the front and rummaged for something, then handed her a rag. “Here. Press that to the back of your head.”

  As Hannah reached for it, Carl smiled, revealing fangs that glinted in the ‘copter’s light. She drew back, and his smile faded. “What’s wrong? Oh,” he nodded, seeming to realize, “these. Don’t worry. Happens when we smell blood. It’s just a reflex, like how your mouth waters when you smell a good steak cooking. Doesn’t mean a thing.”

  “Why are you helping me?” she asked. “Why don’t you just kill me?”

  Carl laughed. “Well, for starters, the doc would rip me a new one, and I don’t mean that metaphorically. Anyway, why would I kill you?”

  “You’re a vampire,” she said, as though it should be obvious.

  He shrugged. “So’s the guy you just handed your baby to. Do you think he wants to kill you?”

  “I don’t know what he wants.”

  “Right now, he wants you safe, and he wants me to get that radio working so I can call for help.” He set the rag beside her and left her to get back to work.

  She picked up the rag and held it to the back of her head. It hurt to the touch, and she felt the rag grow wet and sticky with blood. Her entire head throbbed. Another wave of nausea washed over her, but she breathed deeply and managed to keep it under control. She felt sleepy, and fought the temptation to lie down.

  Outside, a haunting chorus of moans drifted on the wind. Hannah’s grip tightened on the gun handle. She should check to make sure it was properly loaded, but she could barely lift it. The edges of her vision became cloudy and gray. As that cloud closed in, she felt herself slipping, sliding down into the seat.

  THIRTEEN

  Strong arms lifted her, held her against a hard chest as they carried her away from the helicopter. Its light faded away as darkness swallowed her up and wind filled her hair. Close by, she heard a lifeless groan. Too close. She fumbled with the gun that she still held against her stomach, but she was too weak to lift it, let alone aim and shoot.

  “It’s okay,” Konstantin’s voice murmured in her ear. “I can outrun them.” Even as he said it, the groaning faded into the distance. She realized the wind she felt came from speed. He was running so fast. Even as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, around them all she could see was a blur.

  She could hear Noah crying in the distance, getting closer and closer. They slowed, then stopped. The outline of a barn loomed before them, rimmed in the faint glow of starlight. Konstantin dropped into a crouch and pried the gun from her hand. She heard nine rounds fire, followed by the click of an empty chamber. He picked her up again and shouldered the barn door open.

  Noah sounded really close. His cries echoed through the barn. Hannah tried to call out to him, but all she could muster was a faint moan. Konstantin set her on her feet only long enough to reposition her for a fireman’s carry. It was too dark inside the barn to see anything, but she felt them ascend, and then she was laid on a pile of hay, and Noah’s cries were right next to her. Faint light came through a small, square window above the loft, and as Hannah’s eyes adjusted, she could just barely make out the little girl sitting in a corner, holding Noah.

  Outside, a single groan quickly turned into a chorus. The barn shook as multiple fists pounded on the walls.

  “What is that?” Abby cried.

  “It’s okay,” said Konstantin as he pulled up the ladder behind them. “Even if they get in, they can’t get up here.” His hands slid under Hannah’s arms and pulled her away from the edge. “We’re safe.”

  “Give me the baby,” said Hannah, finally finding her voice.

  “Hold on. I need to check that head wound. Can you sit up?” She nodded. As he helped her sit upright, he said, “Abby, remember what I told you. Are you being a big, brave girl for the baby?”

  “Yes,” she said, but her voice sounded small and scared.

  “You’re doing a great job. I need you to hold him just a while longer. Can you do that?”

  “Okay.”

  Gingerly, his fingers parted Hannah’s hair. A flashlight flicked on behind her. “For as much as it’s bleeding,” he said, “it’s not that deep. You’ll probably have a hell of a headache for a while, but you should be okay as long as we can stop the bleeding.”

  Hannah remembered the pilot’s reaction to her blood, and wondered if Konstantin had the same reflex. Curiosity compelled her to turn and look. She turned just in time to see him pull his tee-shirt over his head, revealing a lean, sculpted torso. Under the circumstances, it startled her more than anything else. “What are you doing?”

  “I forgot to grab the first aid kit.” He took hold of the shirt and ripped it in two. “I’ll have to improvise. Now face front and hold still.”

  She turned around and heard more ripping sounds behind her, and then sucked air through her teeth as he pressed cloth to the back of her head. “Give me your hand.” She held up her right hand, and he guided it to the cloth. “Hold this here until I tell you to let go.” He wrapped a strip of the tee-shirt around her head and said, “Okay.”

  She focused on breathing while he finished wrapping her head. He hadn’t been kidding about the headache. She’d had migraines that felt like hugs and puppies compared to this. Noah’s crying felt like it was cutting to the core of her brain. “Give him here.” She turned toward Abby and reached for him. Konstantin took the baby from Abby and placed hi
m in Hannah’s arms.

  Gradually, he calmed down as she hummed his favorite lullaby. After a few more minutes, he fell blissfully asleep. Hannah breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Why don’t I take him for a while?” asked Konstantin. Hannah looked and saw that Abby had crawled over next to him and curled up at his side. “You should try to get some sleep.”

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to sleep if you have a concussion.”

  “You can if you’re supervised. Now hand him over. Doctor’s orders.”

  “I’ve got him,” she insisted, but she did feel a powerful need to lie down. She nestled Noah in the hay next to her, and curled herself around him. Konstantin began to sing softly. She didn’t know what he sang, but it sounded old and European. He had a nice voice. Outside, the walking dead continued their assault on the barn. Hannah thought that she’d never sleep with all of the unearthly groaning around them.

  That was her last conscious thought before someone shook her by the shoulder. “Wake up,” said Konstantin.

  Hannah opened her eyes and blinked until the barn came into focus. It seemed a little brighter than before. Moonlight shone through the little window, making the vampire’s pale skin gleam a ghostly white. “Can you sit up?” he asked. She nodded, and pushed herself up. He helped her, taking her by the shoulders and holding her steady. “Do you know where you are?”

  “Yeah.” Her voice sounded groggy.

  “Do you remember how you got here?” When she nodded, he asked, “What’s your name?”

  She couldn’t help rolling her eyes at that one. “Hannah Jordan.”

  He smiled slightly, and nodded in satisfaction. “Well, I guess you’re not brain damaged. How do you feel?”

  “My head still hurts, but it’s a little better.”

  “Are you still dizzy?” She shook her head. “Nauseated?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” He held the gun out to her. “Because we have to move.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Carl couldn’t fix the radio.” He jerked his chin to point behind her, and Hannah turned to see the pilot seated at the far end of the loft. He raised his hand in a small wave.

  “There’s a house about fifty yards from here. Carl already did recon. It’s boarded up, but the back door’s open.”

  “But why can’t we stay here?” asked Hannah. “They can’t get to us up here.”

  “Because it could be tomorrow night, or later, before a search party finds us. Carl and I need cover from the sun, and you and the children need to eat. Abby’s already told me three times that she’s hungry. Carl said there’s a pantry full of canned food in the kitchen.”

  Hannah looked over to the corner where Konstantin had been sitting, and saw the little girl curled up in the hay next to Noah, both of them sound asleep. She sighed. She’d already made the blunder once of leaving safety for the unknown. She didn’t want to make that same mistake again; and it still made her uneasy, putting their lives in the hands of two vampires. But Konstantin hadn’t failed her yet. For whatever reason, he wanted to keep them alive. Besides, he was right. They couldn’t spend all day up here. Not if there was an alternative.

  She took the gun. “I thought it was empty.”

  “I replaced the clip.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out another one. “And I’ve got one more spare.” He handed it to her and she tucked it inside her jumpsuit. “That’s eighteen rounds,” he said. “Don’t use them unless you have to.”

  “This isn’t exactly my first time.”

  “Of course not.” He nodded deferentially. “Carl and I will go first. We’ll handle the ones that got into the barn. Once we’re outside, we’ll move back to back, in a triangle, with the children in the middle. We’ll both face front, and clear a path. You’ll guard the rear. All right?”

  Hannah nodded. She pulled her hair back, using a strand of hair to tie it in place below the bandage, then crawled over to the children. She picked the baby up, gently, willing him to stay asleep. Then she shook Abby. “Wake up, sweetie.” She opened her eyes. “We have to go for a walk. It’s not far, but it’s going to be scary. I need you to be a big, brave girl again, okay?”

  Abby nodded as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

  “Can you carry the baby?”

  Again, she nodded, and sat up. Hannah turned back to Konstantin. “We’re ready.”

  “All right,” said Konstantin. “Don’t lower the ladder until we tell you.”

  “Wait,” said Hannah. “You’re not armed.”

  Konstantin smiled, revealing extended fangs. “Yes we are.” He dropped off the edge of the loft.

  FOURTEEN

  Carl followed him. Hannah stayed back with the children, and waited. From below, she could hear groans abruptly silenced, replaced with sounds of cracking bones and tearing flesh.

  “What is that?” Abby whispered, clinging to Hannah’s side.

  “They’re fighting the monsters.” Hannah inched forward until she could see over the edge of the loft. A moonbeam shone through a hole in the roof, lighting up a small patch of the dirt floor like a dim spotlight. Around it, the barn was flooded with shadow. Sounds of struggle came from both sides, and Hannah jumped as a rotting head rolled into the light.

  A second later, Konstantin appeared, standing over the head. He looked up at her. “It’s okay. You can come down.”

  Hannah found the ladder and lowered it to the ground. She tucked the gun into her belt and then, cradling a still-sleeping Noah in one arm, she climbed down, guiding Abby behind her.

  Konstantin led them to the barn door, where Carl held it shut against the rest of the horde. “We’ll go first,” said Konstantin. “They won’t be interested in us, but they’ll try to get past us to get to you.” He touched her arm and added, “We won’t let them.”

  Hannah nodded. She handed the baby to Abby. “Hold him tight and be careful not to drop him, okay?”

  “What if he wakes up and cries?”

  “Let him cry. Just don’t drop him.”

  “Okay.”

  “Ready?” asked Konstantin. Hannah pulled the gun from her belt and checked to make sure there was a round in the chamber. She felt to make sure the clip hadn’t fallen out of her jumpsuit, then nodded.

  “Follow Dr. Konstantin and Carl,” she told Abby. “Stay in the middle of all of us.” Hannah held the gun ready as the two vampires shoved open the doors. Hannah gasped. It was hard to tell for sure in the moonlight, but there were at least a hundred zombies in their way.

  The vampires became a blur of motion. All around them, the dead fell as the Konstantin and Carl tore through them with their bare hands, clearing a path. Gradually, they moved forward. As they edged out of the barn, Hannah took her place behind them, closing the gap to shield the children and taking out anything that got past the others with her handgun. They hadn’t made it ten yards when she had to change the clip. After a few more yards, the zombies seemed to thin out. Hannah was down to four bullets, and there were still about a dozen yards between them and the house. “I’m almost out,” she called over her shoulder. “Only four bullets left!”

  “We’re almost past them,” Konstantin called out. “Just a few more feet, then Carl will take the children and run.”

  A woman with half of her face rotted away stepped directly in front of Hannah and reached out clawed hands. Hannah fired, and watched her drop. “Three!”

  “We’re clear,” said Konstantin. “Run!”

  Hannah turned to run for it, but she was swept into his arms, and for a moment the world around her became a blur. Then he put her down inside the kitchen of an old farm house, and Carl slammed the door shut behind them. “There looked to be a couple dozen left,” said Carl, “but those gunshots are sure to draw more, if there are any more of ‘em in earshot.”

  He and Konstantin shoved a free-standing wooden pantry in front of the door, then they both took out their flashlights and set them on end on the kitchen table. They
did a fair job of lighting up the room. Hannah turned to Abby. “Are you okay?”

  To her surprise, Abby giggled. “I think he’s hungry.” Noah had woken up, and was contenting himself by grabbing clumps of Abby’s curls and trying to stuff them in his mouth.

  In spite of everything, Hannah smiled. She couldn’t believe they had made it. “Here, I’ll take him.” She lifted the baby into her arms, and he greeted her with a gurgly smile.

  Konstantin opened the pantry and peered inside. “Peaches and peas,” he announced. He gathered some cans and put them on a nearby counter. “Not exactly a feast fit for kings, but it should help to tide you over until we reach camp.” He pointed at the peas. “You should be able to mash those up for the baby.”

  Hannah noticed teethmarks on his arm, and took a step back. “You’re bit.”

  He glanced at his arm. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry. Their bites don’t affect us. All right, you stay here with the children, and get some food in you. We’re going to check out the rest of the house. Carl, look for candles or batteries. And if you see a first aid kit, grab it.” He looked at Hannah. “I want to redress that wound. How many rounds do you have left?”

  Hannah held up the gun. “Three.”

  He nodded. “If anything comes in here that isn’t us, shoot it.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” she muttered as they headed out of the kitchen.

  The cans of peaches were pull-top, so Hannah opened one and sat Abby at the table with it. “Let me find a fork.” Balancing Noah on her hip, she rummaged through the kitchen drawers until she found some silverware and a manual can opener. More out of curiosity than expectation, she turned on the sink faucet. Air sputtered out of it, followed by brown sludge. Hannah let it run, and eventually half-way drinkable water began to emerge. She rinsed off the forks and handed one to Abby. Then she found a bowl and sat down.

  She had choked down her own peaches and was trying to coax Noah to eat the rest of his mashed peas when Konstantin returned. “The coast is clear upstairs.” He was wearing a plain, white tee-shirt. It hung loosely on him. “I found some alcohol and a roll of gauze.” He brought them over to the table and set them down, then picked up a flashlight. “Abby, do you want to be my nurse?”