Rising From Ashes: Empire of Blood Book Three (A Dystopian Vampire Novel)

by Robert S. Wilson

  Simon watched her, longing to know more of what she had seen, but she only lay there silent, a half smile, half frown across her face. That look of slight amusement you get at the most bitter moment. Then, she pulled Simon close against her skin, closed her eyes and the two of them lay there together and eventually slept.

  ***

  When the Hive woke with the stirring of many vampires, Simon could feel her hunger as if it were his own. Already, he knew the ancients were restless and would soon be out for the hunt. Although the human vampires had grown almost greedy for the synthetic blood, not one of the ancestors would so much as touch it, let alone drink a drop of it. And neither would the Queen. Before long, the tiny cavern was full of ancestors carrying fresh bodies, stripped naked and half-drained, ready for their mother. Simon left the room as the Queen sucked from the open wound of a young dark-skinned woman with vibrant yet dazed creamy blue eyes.

  As he made his way through the many corridors of the hive, he wondered whether he was now more apprehensive about what was going on here or what was happening with the war out there. When he came to the main cavern, he was surprised to find Jackie sitting by herself watching the fire in the middle of the open room flicker and sparkle. He sat beside her and watched it too for a while. Neither spoke as the flames crackled, the sound echoing off the cave walls.

  She cared deeply for him now, he knew this. But, as much as he wanted to return those feelings, as much as he knew she was wise beyond her years, he couldn't bring himself to. Part of him couldn’t stop seeing her as anything more than a troubled young girl. The rift between them had grown in the past few weeks and now it was more vast than ever before. He longed for her friendship. Without Ishan, he felt lost and though the Queen's companionship was more than just welcome, it was a mother's love shared equally for so many children and not quite the same as the mutual bond between two friends.

  He was just about to reach out for Jackie, to take her in his arms and hold her and try to quell the loneliness inside her when something overwhelmed his entire being. He cried out in a tongue he'd never spoken as images, sounds, and smells flashed in his mind. The blinding scorching sunlight was piercing every pore in his body and yet... it wasn't. The words of men spat fires of hatred at him as they hovered over his withering body. But it wasn't his body that he saw spreading out below him. The slender legs and other curves made the shape of a woman. The men stabbed at her body with long dilapidated torches. And just when one of them was close enough to grab...

  "Simon, what's wrong? Stop it, please!" He woke up breathing heavily, lying in the middle of the cave floor, just inches from the fire. Jackie was standing over him, her face a mess of tears and red tired eyes.

  "What happened?"

  "What do you mean, what happened? You started fucking freaking out, that's what happened. What were you doing? You nearly gave me a heart attack..." Her words echoed against the cave wall and the two of them locked eyes and the obvious made them both laugh at the irony. “A heat attack…” When Jackie was done laughing, her face became serious, concerned. "Seriously, Simon, what the hell just happened."

  Simon sat up, mirroring her worried expression. "I don't know. I'm not sure... But I think I might have just seen... a memory or something... from the other Queen... from Ishan."

  Chapter 6

  The Ambush

  Hank was just a few blocks away from the Imperial church—the vampires had been hiding out in the old building’s basement during the daytime hours when an unexpected vision cut off all of his senses. Clarence, the man who had put up such a fuss during the town meeting, typed away at the crude excuse for a cell phone in his hand. The words weren't clear, but their meaning and intent was. He was sending a message to an Imperial Colonel named Chiles and awaiting orders. When the orders came, he slipped unseen downstairs to a basement room filled with several small metal containers of gasoline. Some town official had probably stored them there for local government vehicles to use from time to time, but now they were a godsend for someone who wanted to destroy what Hank had accomplished here from the inside out.

  Clarence grabbed two of the canisters and waddled out the door with them swaying back and forth against his legs as he tried to run quietly back up the stairs. The vision shifted and fire grew, spreading throughout the building. Small children, mothers and fathers, grandfathers all screaming and fighting to get out of a building that had been sealed tight from the outside.

  Hank started running at an incalculable speed, headed for the town hall. When he crashed through the door, the smell of smoke was already strong, a thick white cloud of it hovering over the main meeting room and the hundreds of bodies lying sleeping on small green fold out cots. Hank wailed out orders for whatever soldiers might be around and awake.

  Within minutes, several men rushed in and attempted to douse the flames with large buckets of water. For a moment there, it didn't seem like they would be able to stop the now roaring fire.

  Hank commanded about two dozen Foederati soldiers to begin evacuating the people from the still-burning building. He charged into the middle of the room frantically eyeing the place, looking for the source of the fire.

  Lieutenant James came running, a look of dread in his eyes. "Sir, we received a message via radio from one of the snipers keeping watch on the Imperial soldiers just before..." Hank had never seen Chandler James show so much emotion. "...before his signal went dead. The Imperial soldiers aren't soldiers—they're vampires dressed as soldiers. Our boys are walking into a trap."

  "Did you radio over to the vampire commander?"

  "Yes, sir. But there was no response. I'm not sure if I was too late, or if there's some other communication issue."

  Hank took a deep breath. He had to go, there was no choice, but he couldn't leave Clarence unfound. "Lieutenant, do you remember the man they called Clarence, tall blond older fellow in long brown overalls?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Find him. He's the one who started this." Chandler's eyes narrowed for a split second, but only a split second. He nodded without question and ran off toward some of the other soldiers. Hank turned and ran through the opening he'd busted into only minutes before.

  ***

  When radio contact went dead with four of the other snipers simultaneously, Darby knew something was up. He left his radio on the roof at his station in case his enemy was smart enough to use it to find him. With his stake-rifle strapped around his back, he headed for a hatch at the center of the building. He opened it and dropped legs first inside, latching his feet onto the ladder that had brought him up there in the first place. Pulling the hatch back with him, he set it gently closed and crept down the thin narrow bars for steps.

  There had to be a place to hide. When the last sniper to speak over the open channel said “vampires,” he knew he had to get out of there or he would meet the same fate very soon. The building was quiet. Not that he expected or hoped for otherwise. With the townspeople at the community hall and the vampires killing off several of the snipers, quiet was good. Real good. But it didn't last. Impossibly fast feet hammered up the stairs, the thunder of it rising up from the bottom of the building like a swelling vibration moving along a metal rod. Darby cursed his luck and slipped into the first door he came to.

  The room was large and open and filled with desks and computers and cubicle partitions. He dashed along a row between them until he came to an intersecting walkway and turned left, ducking below view and sliding into one of the cubicles then down under the desk inside. The reverberating steps on concrete stairs grew to what seemed like a deafening level in the otherwise utter silence. The noise abruptly stopped and muffled voices failed to completely fill the vast silence of the mostly empty building. They spoke a European language Darby wasn't familiar with. There were three of them by the sound, but he knew there could be more in other parts of the building.

  He lay there curled up under the desk hugging his knees and holding his breath. The voices trailed off as the
thundering of vibrating concrete returned, this time moving upward away from his floor. He waited a long time, letting out the slightest of exhalations and holding his eyes closed tight from fear. He took a slow, somewhat calming—but not nearly enough—deep breath and pulled his stake gun around to face the outside of the desk, aimed to fire if anyone came near.

  Looking out at the wall, the long line of windows stretched across the place and reflected the other side of the wall. He thanked God or Shiva or whoever might be listening up there for giving him a good vantage point and waited. The unending silence from outside disturbed him. He should be hearing gunfire, explosions, some sign that he wasn't alone in this place waiting to be picked off by these bloodthirsty bastards. Trying to imagine different scenarios that would explain the lack of noise outside, he began to let his guard down and space out.

  But when the door creaked open and a tall menacing motherfucker of a vampire with long black dreds took slow creeping steps inside scanning the open room, Darby came to attention and then some. He couldn't help the breathing. It was going to give him away before long if he couldn't stop it. He was near to hyperventilating when the vampire in the reflection snapped his keen eyes in the direction of the cubicle Darby was hiding under.

  The vampire moved slowly and silently toward it, not noticing Darby's reflection in the window. Knowing his position was already compromised, he turned to his right to where he was halfway facing the oncoming vampire coming toward the back of the cubicle. The vampire's plan was obvious. He would attack from behind, pull the dividers out of the way and strike.

  The next second, the shadow-covered divider burst up from the floor and the vampire shot forward just as Darby fired his rifle. The force of both objects colliding—vampire and stake—almost sent the latter completely through its target. But if it made it all the way through, Darby didn't have time to find out. He rolled backwards and onto his feet, backing away from the vampire's assault.

  The creature slammed against the carpeted floor and tried to get up but, before it could, the stake, still lodged inside its body, activated and began draining the monster's blood. It screamed out in a fading sort of cat cry as its face withered and shrank inward like a tomato drying in the sun in fast forward. Darby thanked his anonymous deity again for the help of the Necropolis vampires. He pulled another stake out with shaking hands and bent down and kissed the shiny metal savior before loading it into the rifle.

  "Suck on that, motherfucker." Adrenaline pumped wildly through his body. He felt like he could take on every one of them all by himself now. But the fear still shuddering through his body told him what he knew to be far more realistic. He got lucky... And it may not happen again.

  ***

  The edge of town was silent as the dead as Hank drew near. Nothing looked out of the ordinary other than the emptiness of the place; the lack of people and cars in the streets. He slowed to a stop and attuned his hearing to the distance ahead where he remembered stationing several of the snipers. Faint voices whispered in his ear from nearly a mile away. Someone was there all right, but who? He sent out his mental tendrils in attempt to control the visions the way the Queen had taught him. The first go brought nothing and he realized he was trying too hard. He calmed himself and let his mind wander.

  A scene began to unravel through the haze and materialize around him. There were hundreds of them. Imperial vampires. Many of the other vampires lay dead in the streets beyond the block where Hank now stood. A handful of survivors were held captive, several Imperial vampires holding each one in place, their mouths gagged with some form of object Hank wasn't familiar with.

  As the vision faded, Hank assessed his situation. He couldn't take on even a tenth of that number—not these creatures—and live. But the time to act was now and there wasn't much choice but to try and at least do what he could. He sent word to the Queen through the now strong psychic link between them, hoping she would call out to the other vampires waiting back at the town hall to come to his aid. Then, without any further hesitation he ran to the nearest building and began jumping his way up its side, using each window sill like a vast step from an enormous ladder.

  Within minutes he was at the top of the roof running silently to the other end. Peering down below over the crowd of Imperial vampires, he quickly spotted their captives—seven in all—and began strategizing a way to get to each one. The majority of his enemy seemed to be waiting and watching the west, but a few occasionally looked elsewhere, one coming very close to spotting him, if he hadn't ducked at just the right second.

  His body pressed down against the roof, he could feel something unexpected through the ceilings and walls below.

  A single human heartbeat thrummed maddeningly.

  His plan was already changing. Whoever was down there was in danger judging from the rhythm of blood pumping through their body. Hank backed away from the edge of the building and scanned the area for a point of entry. A small square hatch sat neatly in the center of the roof. He grabbed and pulled up on the door and it came up without resistance.

  Sneaking down into the building, he closed the hatch behind him and slithered down to the floor. Following the human drum beating in his ears, he crept down several flights of stairs until he came to the floor where the sound was the loudest. His sense of smell told him there had been vampires here and at least one of them was dead. The other two he couldn't quite place. Heartbeats were easy to hear, but synapses were another story.

  He followed the sound of flesh and blood to a closed door, opened it, and slipped inside. He could tell immediately that the sound had alerted the man to his presence—he could smell the man's testosterone in the air. With no patience or time to waste, Hank spoke.

  "Who's there? This is Hank Evans, Chief Commander of the Foederati."

  A young man Hank knew to be one of his snipers jumped up from behind one of the cubicle partitions with a grin that almost rose Hank's spirits for a moment. "Sir, it's Lieutenant Darby, thank God, I'm so glad to see y-"

  "Never mind that, you won't be so glad to hear that we're both pretty goddamn screwed right now."

  Darby's grin melted and before Hank could stop him, the young man turned and looked out the window. "Holy shit!"

  "Yeah, like I said..."

  "Is that our..."

  "Yes those are our vampires they've managed to murder and capture."

  "I've never seen so many Imperial bloodsuckers before. How the hell are we gonna—"

  "Our best shot is to try and free some of our own first. Then maybe we'll have a fighting chance until reinforcements arrive."

  "I don't know, maybe we should wait... We don't really stand a chance."

  Hank sighed. "Maybe not, but..."

  "But what, sir? It's suicide. There has to be a better way."

  The kid was right. Hank's anger had gotten the better of him. He wanted vengeance and he wanted it now. He wasn't willing to wait any longer at the sight of his own people—vampire or not—lying in the streets like that. Some of them he'd come to know and respect quite highly.

  "All right, you got any other bright ideas, kid?"

  "Darby, sir. And maybe..."

  Chapter 7

  Invisible Stalemate

  If there was one thing about home Dustin hadn't missed it was the cold. Walking in downtown Indianapolis, underneath the Fifth Third building reaching up into the sky above with a thousand other men and roughly two hundred vampires, he thought about what their next step would be. Nearly half the city was under siege by the Foederati since he and his crew had arrived just two weeks prior. He was proud of what they had accomplished so far, but he couldn't help but wonder whether they had enough man and firepower to finish the job.

  Just six short months ago he'd been working in an office, living on the west side of town, keeping to himself. Now he was the commander of the entire Indiana chapter of the Foederati militia. Life has a way of keeping things interesting from time to time. It had been hours since they'd encountered
any Imperial resistance in the area, but he knew from experience they would have to keep a watch out just in case. As they came around the side of the building, the gaping hole revealing dozens of desks, melted electronics, and ergonomic computer chairs from a recent explosion told him all he needed to know. Whoever had made that large opening was either waiting for them inside or somewhere else nearby, maybe right around a corner.

  He was just about to send in some men to scour the area when one of the vampire soldiers by the name of Geraldo stepped up to him with a look of uncertainty.

  "Sir, the Queen has sent us a message. Things aren't going so well in Carlisle, they need backup— more specifically they need more vampires."

  Dustin scratched at his bearded chin for a moment. He wondered why Hank hadn't gotten in touch with him personally about this.

  He put his curiosity aside though and within minutes gunfire erupted from the street. Twenty minutes later, the area was secure again and he sent for Geraldo.

  The vampire arrived minutes later. "Sir?"

  "I need you to find out what's going on down in Carlisle and give me a full report. Also, send a message to the Queen to relay to Hank. Let her know that I don't really have any men I can spare to send down there, but if the situation is dire enough, we'll see what we can manage."

  ***

  The eerie glow of overhead streetlights reflected off a growing pool of vampire blood in the middle of the street. Rosadelma held firm, doing her best not to noticeably stare at the bodies of her friends who were much more like family as part of the same tribe in some sense. And then there was Shanene... Rosadelma’s body tightened at the memory of her last breath. It had taken three Imperial vampires to bring Rosadelma down and she was still at a loss to understand why they didn't just drain her the same as they had Shanene, Mihalis, Sheridan, and many of the others. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to who they murdered in cold blood and who they currently held captive.