The Blood of the Infected (Book 3): Twice Bitten, Twice Die

by Antony J. Stanton

  As Lewis got to his feet and made it out the door Straddling fired one last time and followed. Wood too ran for the steps. By the time he had got downstairs the soldiers were outside, ten strides away and sprinting for the relative safety of the road. Lewis stopped and looked behind him, waiting for his colleague. Despite the overwhelming desire to flee, he would not leave without ensuring all of his team were safe. Wood made to follow but paused briefly as he looked back into the church at the creatures that had saved their lives. The last of the infected were just being dispatched. The vampiress had taken her dance of death to another tempo and now, with wanton abandon, she leapt from one to the next, killing mercilessly, cracking a head against a pillar or breaking a spine in two and instantly moving on. Regard for her own safety had been replaced by vengeance and a terrible rage. In a moment it was all over and she sank to her knees, holding her head in her hands.

  “Wood, we’ve gotta go,” Lewis shouted.

  But Wood stood still, watching the moving scene within the church, disobeying his commanding officer once more. Sebastian was breathing heavily. He walked slowly towards Flavia. She did not look up as he knelt beside her and took her in his arms. Only now did Wood see she was shaking, sobbing despairingly into her hands, her body wracked with convulsions. He could not help but be moved by the emotions himself. He glanced briefly at Lewis and then turned and walked hesitantly back into the church.

  “Wood.”

  But Wood was not listening to him.

  “Dammit!” Lewis went after him and paused by the doorway.

  There were moans and cries coming from some of the diseased but none were still able to stand. Wood walked hesitantly towards the two vampires. They ignored him and were talking softly to each other. Wood paused when only a few strides away.

  Flavia took her hands away from her face and looked up at Sebastian.

  “I’m bitten,” she murmured.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to hear it, although he already knew. He kept them shut for an eternity, hoping it would change the reality. When he opened them he gazed down at her with immeasurable tenderness, a look that she had not seen for an age. She smiled, a remorseful smile that was tinged with irony and agony. All those long years her emotions had been buried deeply inside so that Farzin would not find out. Buried so completely that she was barely aware of them herself. Emotions that she hardly trusted or acknowledged. Before she had always known there was plenty of time. There would always be a future and an opportunity ahead of them. Except for right now. For her, time had just run out. It had caught up with her and was carrying her away and there was nothing she, or Sebastian, could do to stop it.

  “You’re not going soft on me are you, mon amour?” she asked coquettishly. “Surely not now, when it’s too late? That would really kill me…” She could barely finish her words as they choked out of her.

  He returned her smile as tears hesitantly started to form.

  “I guess I’ve always had a little soft spot for you.”

  “Well you pick a fine time to let a girl know.” She laughed and the sound was immediately uplifting, a small songbird, hovering briefly then fluttering quickly away, out of reach and out of the church, never to return. She reached a delicate hand up and caressed the side of his face. Her beautiful, long nails were manicured to perfection and painted a deep red. They softly traced the outline of his jaw. There was a trickle of blood on his cheek and she was immediately concerned.

  “Please tell me you haven’t been bitten too?”

  He shook his head and her frown disappeared.

  “Good. No point both of us sacrificing ourselves for these pitiful humans of yours. Do you think there’s a place waiting for us in Heaven?”

  He gave a thin, rueful smile. “I think the Pearly Gates were firmly closed to us a long time ago, mon amour.”

  Only now did Sebastian turn and acknowledge Wood, who stood quietly a few metres away. Sebastian looked deeply into his eyes for the most fleeting of moments. Wood could feel the weight of the stare and recoiled under it. Flavia now drew his attention gently back to her again.

  “Tell me you won’t forget me?”

  “How could I? It’s been you all along. You’re my only.”

  For a moment they gazed at each other then he bent low and kissed her, a kiss full of tenderness and promises that would never be fulfilled. It was the first time in all their years that they had kissed; the first and last time, but one never quite forgets one’s first.

  “I can already feel it moving inside me, burning through me,” she breathed.

  The tears came again to Sebastian but less hesitantly this time, dropping onto her neck and mingling with the blood in her open wound.

  “You won’t let that happen to me will you?” she asked beseechingly.

  He shook his head.

  “Don’t forget me,” she repeated.

  “Never,” he murmured and she smiled, a radiant and irresistible expression that made both Sebastian and Wood swoon and cartwheel inside. For once Sebastian allowed himself to be totally and completely moved by her, utterly and entirely a fool to her charms.

  “It is time,” she murmured, trying to maintain her smile. She closed her eyes against the tears and the truth.

  Tearing his view reluctantly away from her, Sebastian turned his attention on Wood.

  “Take care of her,” was all he said. Wood thought he could just as well be talking about Charlotte Collins as about this beguiling vampiress. Slowly Wood nodded. He raised his Browning. Flavia gazed one last time at Sebastian, a lingering gaze full of regret; regret for the squandered opportunities and wasted time, the misunderstandings and mistrust, the doubts and furtive glances and the questions that would now go forever unanswered. Then she leant forwards, moving herself away from him. She sighed and her shoulders relaxed as she lowered her head.

  Wood fired, just once into the back of her skull, where the base of her cranium met her spine. One shot per person, even for a vampire - but only if aiming in exactly the right spot. Her body jerked but Sebastian pulled her closely to him, his arms wrapped tightly around her. He buried his head into her shoulder and sat immobile, just holding her lifeless corpse, rocking gently. For the briefest moment Wood’s pistol remained where it was, aimed now at Sebastian. His finger hovered over the trigger and he held his breath. He could feel his pulse beating, once, twice, three times. Sebastian’s eyes were squeezed firmly shut, ignoring Wood and everything else in the world at large. Nothing else was of consequence. Quietly, respectfully, Wood stepped backwards, lowering his gun before walking quickly away, as time began to ravage and ransack her body, claiming back all the years and the life-blood she had stolen.

  Lewis said nothing until he got to the door.

  “You okay?”

  Wood nodded wordlessly, a single tear running down his own cheek. This emotionally distanced man, this highly controlled soldier, finally moved by something, Lewis wondered. The irony was not wasted on him though - a vampire felled by a bite to the neck.

  “The others have already gone. Let’s get out of here.”

  They ran into the sunlight, through the church grounds and towards the road. From the far side of the presbytery a man came at them, chortling and grunting as he neared.

  “Keep going,” Lewis yelled as they veered away. The man ran after them, trailing by only a few paces.

  As they neared the road a woman appeared from behind a tree and lunged at them. Wood raised his gun and fired, then turned and fired at the man, but it clicked uselessly as the ammunition finally ran out. Two more infected chased after them from the far side of the graveyard.

  They arrived at the road where they had left the vehicles, in desperate need of salvation, but the Land Rovers were not there. There was no sign of them, no soldiers and no rescue, just an empty road and a couple more diseased that now saw them and charged at them, screaming.

  “Time to go.”

  With no means of escape and no prospect
of survival if they stayed where they were, they had no choice. The soldiers started to run up the road, away from the diseased. Up ahead however there was another woman lumbering towards them.

  “Berthon, Walkden, where the hell are you?” Lewis shouted into the radio between gulps of air as they sprinted. “We’ve just left the church. We’re being chased. Need extraction immediately.”

  There was no answer.

  “There’s nothing for it but to try and charge past this one. Ready?” Lewis gasped.

  “Hell yeah, let’s do it.”

  As they closed in on her they heard the sound of engines and from around the corner the Land Rovers screeched towards them. The woman heard the noise too and turned to face it. She started running at the vehicles with a scream. She was struck by the first with a thump, going straight under its wheels. It slewed to a halt in front of Wood and Lewis, screeching in a semi-circle. Corporal Kevin Berthon looked pale and apologetic from the driver’s seat.

  “Sorry boss, it was getting a little tasty back there. Had to lead a bunch of crazies away from you on a wild goose chase.”

  “Just get us out of here,” Lewis shouted.

  Berthon floored the accelerator, leaving marks down the middle of the road as the infected roared their displeasure at the disappearing soldiers.

  CHAPTER 7

  As Corporal Berthon drove he recounted what had befallen them on the outside. Everything had been quiet, eerily quiet, for a while at least. Then the shooting had started. Sporadic bursts came from either the church or presbytery, accompanied by hideous screams and wails. Sitting in the vehicles had been unbearable. They had impatiently waited for a sign that the soldiers were okay. Then something strange had happened. A large presence of diseased had wandered by. Berthon, Walkden and Hutchison had sat in terror, slunk down inside the flimsy protection of the vehicles. They silently watched to see if they would be noticed and attacked, but the group were apparently preoccupied by some greater mission and had completely bypassed the Land Rovers, on their way towards the church. They had appeared to be led by a character larger and more distorted than the others, barely recognizable as human at all, a truly demonic Pied Piper. He was tall and pale with satanic eyes. His limbs were hooked and he lurched impatiently as the crowd shuffled behind him. He wailed and screeched at them in hideous tones, urging them on like a malevolent slave driver.

  Long seconds had dragged into minutes as they waited. Then suddenly they had seen some figures staggering towards them. It was Collins and Straddling bearing Vida, and the three drivers had rushed to their aid. There was nobody else for a short while, just the sound of bestial screaming and gunfire. Then suddenly there had been a frenzy of activity. Two creatures dressed darkly had burst forth from the church. They were tall and shadowy, truly intimidating vampyric figures. They had fled from the building, totally ignoring the vehicles and were pursued by the same demonic figure that had led the infected into the church. They moved with such speed, like a film played on double time. A couple of diseased had trailed behind, crooning and wailing. They were less single-minded however and more easily distracted. When they saw the vehicles they changed direction, lumbering towards them instead. Berthon wound down his window and when only a few paces away he dispatched them both.

  The soldiers had sat with nerves on edge, poised for action. After a time, Straddling could wait no longer. Fearing that the others may need help he left the safety of his Land Rover and proceeded cautiously towards the church. He was only half way across the graveyard when another figure burst forth, another of the strange, willowy creatures. His clothes were torn and bloodied and he was pursued by a group of diseased. Berthon caught his breath, his fingers on the door handle as he prepared to go to his sergeant’s aid. Straddling froze for a moment but he was right out in the open and directly in the path of the onrushing horde. He did not have enough ammunition to shoot even half of them. If he did not do something immediately he would die.

  The first figure moved way too fast and was almost upon him before he could react, but the infected trailed by a little distance. Straddling threw himself to the ground, sheltering behind an imposing gravestone. He hunkered down and waited. What else could he do? The vampire ignored him and rushed by without breaking step. The infected had fortunately not seen him. They passed him on either side, within arm’s reach, but miraculously none had noticed the helpless figure virtually at their feet, else he would surely have been ripped to pieces.

  Straddling had lain still for several seconds, allowing his heartbeat to steady and to ensure the diseased had all gone. Then he stood up on shaky legs and proceeded towards the church where, it seemed, his assistance could not have come at a better time. The infected, who now lumbered around outside the church, had initially disregarded those hiding within the vehicles. It was only when the rest of the soldiers fled the church that they had started to regroup and paid them some attention, hence the three drivers had to take evasive action, temporarily abandoning Lewis and Wood whilst they led the diseased away.

  With Berthon at the rear of the convoy, the Land Rovers drove quickly through the streets. Lewis slumped quietly in the front passenger seat, half listening to Berthon’s narrative whilst staring out of the window with his nerves in tatters. Every bump in the road made him start. Every noise gave him cause to look around. He took deep breaths of air, to steady his pulse as he fingered his empty weapon. Wood, slouched on the back seat, was similarly listless. There was an absence of diseased on the roads. All was quiet – just a little too quiet. Please God, Lewis thought, no more just now. We can’t take any more.

  They were more than half way home. The two lead vehicles just started to accelerate down a straight section of road as Berthon rounded a sharp corner and a dark character stepped out into the middle of the road, directly in his path. Berthon yelled out an obscenity and swerved to try and avoid it. His foot started to come up off the gas but Lewis instantly reached across.

  “No!” he shouted and pressed Berthon’s leg firmly down on the accelerator.

  The car careered for a moment as Berthon struggled with the change of direction and speed, but with a squeal from the tyres he wrestled it under control. The figure stood motionless in the middle of the road, staring right at them with an unnerving intensity. Just as it seemed inevitable that he would go under the wheels, he crouched down and leapt high, clearing the Land Rover’s roof. Lewis turned to look behind but there was absolutely no sign of the mysterious individual.

  “That’s the same creature that was in the chapel,” Wood said quietly. “The one that was surrounded and fighting all the infected by himself. I thought he was a gonner for sure.”

  “Well where the hell did he go?” Lewis asked in agitation.

  “I didn’t see.”

  “Keep your eyes open,” Lewis said sternly to both soldiers. “We’re almost home. Let’s not screw up now.”

  As Luca had prepared to fight for his life all alone, Ricardo had fled the church, followed by Simeon. They did not need to look behind to realize they were being closely followed. After a minute it became apparent that they would not easily outpace their aggressor and possibly more inventive methods would be needed. A couple of the infected had initially trailed Darius but they were insignificant and were quickly left behind.

  Simeon was lagging slightly. Ricardo had seen the look on his face in the church, the hunger in his eyes and the glee of anticipation. He knew his friend over the aeons, through countless escapades, adventures and encounters, and knew his mind almost as he knew his own. He immediately realised that his lagging was not through inability or injury, more through a desire to prolong the encounter. Unquestioningly he changed direction without casting a look at his friend and headed towards a suitable building, a familiar supermarket. The front windows had been smashed. Inside the aisles were in disarray but neither captured his attention. His interests lay elsewhere. He vaulted lightly onto an adjoining fence and quickly leapt onto the building’s flat ro
of. If Simeon sought a test of his pugilistic skills in the ultimate death match, one far beyond anything either of them had ever faced, then they would be safer placed in an arena without interruption from marauding infected. He had seen enough of those for one day. Personally his preference would merely be to outpace or elude the contaminated vampire. He had nothing to prove and no desire to court death this day. The world was, after all, just becoming really rather interesting and he had ideas aplenty. However, he did not know whether they would actually be able to lose Darius anyway, and Simeon clearly had no intention of even trying.

  Simeon alighted beside him, less grace and more grunt, as in all things. The two had not a moment to prepare as Darius was right behind and on top of them immediately. For all of his infection he had lost none of his agility. If anything his added recklessness leant him speed and certainly heightened his determination; a determination that had been crucially missing in the final weeks of his life before this new contamination corrupted his blood. He cried out threateningly as he landed and flew into Simeon, bowling him from his feet before he could prepare himself. The giant vampire was knocked hard across the roof of the supermarket and Darius now turned and pressed forwards against Ricardo. He swung both hands with talons bared at face height. Ricardo tried to parry but the force was too strong. One fist gouged his chin, leaving bright claw-marks and cracking his head back. The other hand grabbed him by the neck, holding him fast. Darius screeched and struck again and again, holding the smaller vampire firm. All Ricardo could do was to try and shield his head whilst the blows and the claws rained down with a ferocity he had never experienced. He kicked out and caught Darius in the stomach but the old vampire hardly reacted. Instead he brought his head closer and closer, his snarl revealing his fangs as he went for the neck.