Trail of Tears

by Derek Gunn

  They had them now. He continued to press, firing into the thralls, seeing their bodies shudder as they were hit but they didn’t always fall. He wished he had some of their specially coated ammunition but their stocks of those were far too low so they rarely packed them. He heard the dull click of the firing pin hitting an empty chamber and reloaded as Warkowski came up beside him firing single shots. Another thrall fell and the remaining two suddenly stopped firing and dropped their weapons. Bullets continued to slam into the thralls and Harris rushed forward, screaming for the firing to stop. They needed to learn how the thralls had found them and whether they had told anybody else.

  The firing continued as the remaining defenders stood and walked towards the thralls. Harris watched helplessly as the thralls fell to their knees. Bullets continued to slam into them, jerking their bodies with each round. The guns finally fell silent as the defenders ran out of ammunition. Most of them stood over the thralls panting hard as their senses finally returned.

  Harris could understand their anger and their fear. There was a time when he couldn’t have stopped firing either. But they had lost so much intelligence. He turned away from the slaughter and saw McAteer and two of his men emerge from the corridor and he nodded at them. McAteer looked surprised as seeing him and then he shrugged and disappeared back the way he had come.

  Harris began looking around the plaza. His heart was thumping in his chest but he couldn’t see Sandra among the survivors. He dropped his head and began to search those who had fallen. He turned bodies over carefully, any who groaned he signalled for help and then moved on, praying he wouldn’t find her but petrified that he would. He saw a splash of auburn hair and knelt beside the familiar figure. He rolled the woman over and saw blood on Patricia Lohan’s face and side. He had never liked her but she had stood tall for her community and he could respect that. He felt for a pulse and detected a weak throbbing. He wiped the blood from her face and examined her body for the wound. She had a bullet in her arm and another in her left side but it wasn’t bleeding too much.

  “Hey, Patricia,” he said gently as he leaned close to her ear. “You’re safe.” Her eyes fluttered and it took her a moment to focus on his face. Suddenly her face contorted as she tried to rise.

  “Easy,” Harris said.

  “But, I have…”

  “They’re safe,” he told her gently. “Lucy and Lizzy are fine,” he assured her. Her face relaxed immediately and she lay back. Harris signalled for help and someone eventually came over. “Stay with her,” he told the man. “She’s a brave woman.”

  Harris looked around at the bodies in the plaza. Each one with someone kneeling by them signified someone still alive. Jesus, there were so few. And Sandra was nowhere to be seen. He looked down the corridor McAteer had disappeared down and thought about continuing his search down there. Anyone still down there was most likely dead already. He saw a figure move into the plaza carrying a limp body. He recognised McAteer and then saw the figure in his arms. He saw her hair first and then he was rushing towards them. He looked into McAteer’s eyes but they told him nothing.

  “She’s alive,” he said. “Barely.”

  Harris nodded and took her limp form from him. He felt her cheek. So cold. Jesus, she’s so cold. Warkowski came up beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into his eyes.

  “I know there are so many hurt but…” he couldn’t finish.

  “I will get Amanda to come to you. I think you’ve both earned that.” He slipped away but Harris never heard him.

  “I’m here, love,” he whispered as he stroked her head. He was still there when Amanda Reitzig gently eased him away and began to examine her patient.

  The Aftermath

  Chapter 5

  The pain was incessant. Waves pulsed through him, each one worse than the one before. His body convulsed. Someone had taken his head and pressed it in a vice and turned the screw relentlessly until it seemed his skull would burst. It didn’t though. Instead, just when he thought the pain could not get any worse, a new wave reached a higher pitch.

  He remembered falling and the intense heat from the nuclear fire enveloping him. He no longer felt as if he was falling but his body was so filled with pain that it was impossible to tell. Von Kruger screamed but he couldn’t hear anything. His throat burned though so he must be screaming. He had not cried out in pain in three hundred years. In fact he had not felt any emotion in those years. Now emotions suddenly raced through him, painfully filling the void like air rushing into a vacuum. Fear convulsed along with the pain, fear of his mortality, fear of more pain, fear of the brightness that surrounded him. Hate surged through him as well, hate directed at nothing and everything. It filled him with a strength that he had not felt in a long time.

  He remembered feeling hate before as a vampire but nothing like this. This hate brought with it a power like molten silver, burning and searing as it pulsed. He screamed, he roared, he cried. He revelled in the pain. He gloried in it. His flesh felt like it was being torn from his bones only to re-grow and be torn all over again. Was there to be no end, was this his punishment? Eternal suffering. And yet, with all the pain and the fear, he felt reborn. He had been asleep for hundreds of years; feeling nothing. The only pleasure he had experienced had been the blood, but it was a harsh mistress he now realised. It gave him immortality but it demanded much in return. It demanded everything; emotions, pleasure, everything the humans clung to their pathetic lives to retain. The light grew brighter and the pain reached a new high. He felt something burst within him and then, suddenly, the pain stopped.

  The sun seared down on him and he brought his arm up to shield his eyes. The flesh on his arm was hanging in thin ribbons, but he could see the skin already knitting into place. Around him he could feel the flames burning hot and he tried to launch himself into the air but he merely jumped a foot and stumbled. He shrugged and began to walk through the flames. At some level he was aware that his body was wracked with pain as the flesh seared and fell away only to grow again before searing again. But it was a distant pain now. He walked for what seemed an age until, finally, he emerged from the fire. The wind whipped at him as the tortured environment struggled to recover from the explosion at the plant.

  Ash fell like snow and his flesh finally began to anchor to his bones. He kept walking, marvelling at the sheer destruction the blast had wrought. Such destruction. Miles from the centre of the blast and still all life had been burned away. It was the perfect cleansing. Nothing remained. Except him.

  He wondered why he did not feel the familiar terrible hunger, the yearning for blood that had defined him for so long. He might be one of the most powerful creatures on the earth but he was a slave nonetheless. He knew that his on-going recovery had taken a huge amount of energy. This energy was normally fuelled through gorging on blood but he had not fed in hours. He should be ravenous. What was fuelling his recovery?

  He looked upwards and saw the light struggling to shine through the poisonous clouds. Daylight. He brought up his arm and saw that it did not smoulder. It wasn’t that he no longer felt the pain. The daylight still hurt him, but it no longer burned him. He smiled and felt the sharpened incisors under his lips.

  Oh what a world he could rule. His only weakness had been burned away, literally seared from him. He no longer needed the blood. Finally he could follow his true instincts. He may have preyed on the humans but his existence had always depended on them. Before the war the humans had forced him to live in the shadows as they lorded their freedom to walk the earth. Even after the war, even with them imprisoned and wallowing in their filth, he was shackled to them. Even with all his power he was totally dependent on these vile creatures for his continued existence.

  But no longer. He had been reborn with a new purpose. He must gather his forces, find other nuclear plants and purge his Lieutenants within their cleansing embrace. He would rule a new breed of vampire. No longer would they be shackled to their insatiable hunger and
their fear of the light. Finally he could wipe their filthy stain from the world. And now, nothing could stop him.

  * * *

  “No word yet, sir,” the aide announced as William Carter strode into the room.

  “They can’t have fucking disappeared,” Carter spat and studied the map on the wall. He had been living on coffee and nervous energy ever since he had returned from the crashed helicopter. His stomach still had not healed properly and he lived in constant pain. He couldn’t take solid foods, every time he tried his stomach knotted in pain, so he only consumed liquids. Something hadn’t healed properly or his intestines had twisted as he had stuffed them back into his stomach. Whatever the cause he had another reason to hate Peter fucking Harris and his band of merry bastards.

  Harris was a weak fool. He had been at the man’s mercy but, instead of killing him, he had lectured him about the serum killing his human prisoners. Was it a lie, a way to make guarding the humans more difficult? If the prisoners were free of the serum it would certainly make Harris’ job as rescuer easier. Was that what he was trying to do? But what if he was telling the truth? He would happily let the serum kill all the humans but he needed the prisoners to barter with the vampires. Could he take the chance of letting them die?

  His stomach grumbled again and he felt a sharp pain spasm through him. He looked at the map again. It covered the total extent of his territory, taking into account the areas he had recently subsumed. The sheer size of his kingdom was impressive but it hadn’t come without its problems. The vampires were his main worry. Von Kruger was mad and unpredictable. He had been unable to find the bastard’s lair but he still had patrols out looking. Von Kruger was as likely to attack in broad daylight as he was to barter for human blood. It was entirely possible that the explosion at the power plant had killed him but he couldn’t take the chance. Despite their strained relationship there were still negotiations going on throughout the territory with the vampires. They still needed to feed after all and he didn’t want them attacking his thralls until he was ready for them. No one had seen Von Kruger since the explosion but that did not mean that he was dead.

  To this end he was prepared to provide food for the vampires while he concentrated on other, more pressing problems. His eyes strayed to the east and Nero’s Territory. Nero was a recluse, true, but there was something wrong there. There were too many attacks that centred around the border between what used to be Michigan and Nero’s Ohio territory. He felt the urge to storm the county after being humiliated by that thrall commander but that would have to wait until he had less demands on his resources.

  The other surrounding states were getting restless. They were scared of his recent successes and of his growing empire. For a few weeks everything had been going his way. Now that the power plant had blown up though he had lost a major resource and he had shown weakness. All over his territory power was reduced to emergency batteries and a few hydro generators. His opposite numbers smelled weakness and already he had received reports of thrall forces raiding along his borders. His resources were stretched to their limit guarding his lines, guarding his human cattle, and searching for vampire lairs within his borders.

  Flynn to the west in what used to be Illinois and Warrick to the south in Kentucky were his main rivals but neither had pressed their advantage as yet. How long would they remain patient? He surveyed the map, looking at the unfamiliar lines of the states. When the vampires had carved up America they had not always followed state lines so each territory was similar but not exactly the same as the map showed. The flow of the map was jarred by thick black marker lines which slashed through the previously meticulously drawn borders and gave the impression of a child’s drawing rather than a strategic tool.

  On top of that he had received reports that Von Kruger, or at least his forces, had attacked vampire lairs across his borders and the vampires were beginning to talk among themselves about joining forces and attacking Von Kruger directly. No one had heard from the Council in weeks so the vampire lords were ready to take matters into their own hands. That’s all he needed, a bloody vampire war in the skies above his territory.

  Suddenly a thought struck him. If Harris was telling the truth then humans would begin dying over the next few weeks. If that was the case then it would throw the area into chaos. Thrall commanders in neighbouring states would watch helplessly as their charges died. Their vampire lords would not accept excuses. If they could not feed on humans they would turn on their own thralls and that would relieve the pressure on his borders. A smile broke out on Carter’s face as he began to calculate the worth of his human prisoners if he had the only viable food supply for hundreds of miles.

  And if he could discover the secret of Harris’ special ammunition as well he could be King of the entire country. He chuckled as he surveyed the map with new eyes. This could work out so well. He had sent twelve patrols of elite thralls to search for Harris and his camp and only one had not returned their reports. He looked down at the area that had been assigned to the missing team and he sneered. It always comes back to Nero’s territory, doesn’t it?

  “Have all humans rounded up and placed into large, easily guarded auditoriums, sport fields, anything that doesn’t take too much guarding. Stop all serum injections.”

  “All humans, in which district, sir,” his aide asked in confusion.

  “All of them, you fool.”

  “But they will wake up, sir, they…”

  “Of course they will; that’s why they are to be rounded up.” The aide was about to speak again but Carter’s raised eyebrow was enough to convince the aide to snap his mouth closed and rush to obey the command.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Carter called after him and the aide slid to a hurried stop. “I want three hundred men ready to leave with full armour and weapons within the hour. Organise transport and Tanks. We’re going to visit an old friend.” The aide disappeared and Carter traced a finger to the city where the patrol had been assigned to search. He circled the city with a red marker.

  “I know where you are, Harris,” he muttered. “This time nothing will stop me.”

  Chapter 6

  Tomas Ventredi watched the vampire ahead of him with growing trepidation. His powerful muscles pushed against the wind keeping him aloft. There were twelve of them in the air following Von Kruger. Ventredi had no idea where they were headed, but that was nothing new with Von Kruger. Their leader had changed so much. And not just physically. They had thought him slain when he had not returned from the power plant. They had all seen the explosion and the resulting cloud on the horizon. At first they had panicked. Being a vampire in Von Kruger’s cabal had been comfortable. There was no jostling for power, no in-fighting. Nobody dared to challenge Von Kruger. It had always been that way. Ventredi had followed Von Kruger since he had become a vampire during Napoleon’s invasion of his native Russia. In all that time Von Kruger had ruled with an iron fist and his followers had grown used to his ways and their expectations had grown accordingly.

  They followed their master without question. The fact that he could be dead had hit the whole cabal like a blow and they had huddled in their lair too confused to decide their existence without their leader. As Ventredi thought back to their reaction he was shamed. They were masters of the world, fearless vampires that had followed Von Kruger without question when he had ordered them to break from the shadows and take their destiny in their hands. They had followed him across Europe and to this new world as they spread their empire. They had obeyed when he had ordered them to take the fight to other vampires. They had been fearless, vicious, and loyal. But when Von Kruger had returned and seen them wallowing in their fear of a world without their leader he had spat his disgust at them.

  The vampires had been shamed but so relieved that their leader had returned. They did not question their leader as he ranted at them. At times he seemed to be arguing with himself but it was hard to tell as not all he said made sense. Von Kruger had bathed in the fire of t
he salvation he had told them. His body had been seared. He had been cleansed and emerged something new. Certainly his hair and clothes had been seared from his body, as had his eyelids and his nose and ears. His face was more skeletal, his skin was so thin it was almost translucent and his eyes stared from dark hollows. Yet they burned with a new intensity. A Madness? he wondered and then chastised himself. Von Kruger’s body was ribbed with hard muscles as before but the skin was mottled, blackened, unhealthy looking. Though there was no denying the power that emanated from him. Their leader had returned and that was all that mattered.

  Von Kruger claimed he could walk in daylight and that the thirst no longer ruled him. It hadn’t stopped him from gorging on a human when he returned, but he said that had been only because he still enjoyed the blood, not that he was a slave to it. He chose twelve of his cabal, the significance of the number was not lost on any of his followers. Von Kruger had always harboured illusions of godhood, and who could deny him? Had he not walked into nuclear fire and emerged to lead them?

  Ventredi was nervous though. Von Kruger was leading his chosen twelve to the nuclear fires so they could join him in his rebirth. The twelve of them would walk into the inferno and join their leader in sweeping all others from their path. They would rule the world he had told them. But at what cost? Ventredi was concerned. He had followed Von Kruger so long now that he knew his master’s moods. He had always been quick to anger, to act rather than plan, and not to suffer fools. He had always been one to lose himself in the bloodlust, to see no further than the gratification of his desires—and yet he had survived centuries and led his cabal from strength to strength. Who was he to question such a leader? Ventredi had been a vampire far longer than he had ever been human. But could they truly conquer the thirst? Was there a hidden cost to this new existence—one that was yet to be revealed?