by Derek Gunn
And then, he heard the first scream of terror. His opponents stopped their attack and looked to where a vampire was caught in a shaft of sunlight. The sun leaked over the horizon sending shafts spearing through the darkness like lasers. Flynn’s vampires recoiled in horror; many of them changed to the smallest and swiftest shape they could achieve and ran. Some were lucky and managed to remain ahead of the advancing light but others were caught. Flames suddenly erupted on wings, legs, and faces causing the vampires to fall to the ground where the light splashed over them. Fire flared on exposed flesh and screams drowned out the laughter of Von Kruger’s cabal.
Von Kruger’s blood vampires peeled off from the battle and rushed to the nearby cave they had prepared. Ventredi was nervous though and almost rushed after them. Von Kruger had told them that the sunlight would not hurt them but then, he had also led them all into the flames. Flames that had only spat out half the number that had entered. Ventredi braced himself as the light washed over him. His flesh tingled, but other than a familiar warm sensation his body did not react. He joined the laughter. His attackers watched in terror as Ventredi was illuminated fully in sunlight before them and merely laughed. Then the sunlight washed over them and they screamed as the flames raced over their bodies.
Ventredi felt the power of the sun and revelled in its heat. Below him lay the carcases of the defeated; those who had fallen during the battle on both sides and, among them, the burning remains of Flynn’s cabal who had been caught in the deadly rays. Deadly to some anyway. He saw the remaining vampires from the Flynn cabal racing to outrun the creeping light; the cries of those too slow or too injured to outpace the dawn, as it rushed relentlessly across the sky, reached him and made the victory even sweeter. Some would make it, of course, and word of what had happened here would spread. There would be no doubt after tonight. They were the true masters of this world.
Chapter 10
There was so much to do. Yet, no one could gather the incentive to do it. They had been decimated as a community. No family had escaped the attack unscathed. Whether their loved ones lay dead or injured or missing or their belongings, the few that they had managed to accumulate in this hard world, lay consumed in the fires or strewn and mangled under the panicked thunder of fleeing crowds.
Everyone walked with the lethargy of a movie zombie. Most walked through the smoking remains searching for loved ones, turning burned bodies, and trying to see if they could find something familiar in the burned and torn features.
Faces passed Harris, almost unrecognisable with soot and tears streaking their cheeks. Their eyes all had the same glazed look that he had seen so many times before in the human pens of the thralls. This time it was caused by shock and not serum but it was no less sad. They had so much to do in order to move their entire community seven miles to the train station. He looked up into the sky, dark clouds roiled above like snakes writhing and he cursed. There was more snow coming, a lot more snow. The wind lashed against a pole behind him, snapping the flag tie with a crack that sounded like a gunshot. The wind was picking up as well, a northerly wind carrying within it who knew what. Were they already breathing in radiation, was their skin already soaking up the toxins that would see them all die slowly and horribly? Had everything been for nothing after all?
Harris sighed. He had just come from a planning meeting and the litany of problems tumbled through his mind. The fires had consumed their main food store leaving them with rations for five hundred when they needed enough for over two thousand. Warm weather gear was another problem. Harris was walking the lines where their defenders had died, interrupting the burial details long enough to remove hats, coats and gloves before allowing the detail to continue their grisly work. He ignored their stares as he pulled half buried bodies from their resting places and added their clothes to their supplies. His tears had long since dried to his face, freezing in lines on his cheeks. The needs of the living outweighed those of their dead. No matter how callous that might appear.
The familiar faces that greeted him in his grisly task soon became a blur. It was only when he came to Denis Jackson and Delilah that his control finally broke and he knelt in the snow and cried. The bodies lay together, Delilah having clawed her way to Jackson’s side leaving a trail of blood, now frozen, behind her. Their hands lay entwined but their faces were frozen with the pain they felt forever etched on their faces. Harris looked up into the storm clouds and screamed at the elements, releasing his rage and grief. The burial party stood uncomfortably around him, uncertain what to do so they did nothing. He remained there on his knees growing colder until Father Reilly finally came and eased him to his feet. Harris barely heard the man’s words, but the familiar voice and its comforting tone finally brought him back and he managed to gather the clothes.
“Too many,” he whispered and Reilly held him tighter as they struggled back through the wind and snow.
* * *
“I am not convinced we can make it that far,” Lucy Irvine said and the resulting silence lay heavy over the room. Harris saw the gleam in Ian Phelps’s eyes and tried hard to ignore him. That man would laugh in triumph even as he was cut to pieces just to know that Harris had been proven wrong.
“I’m sorry, Peter, I know that’s not what you want to hear but we have to be practical.” She paused and took a breath as she looked around at the faces crowded into the small room. Their usual meeting room was being used as a hospital ward so they had made do with the largest room they could find. In the corner were a pitifully few boxes of canned food, their covers scorched by flames but their contents still consumable. Too many others had split in the heat, spilling cooking in the flames. The smell of cooked meat and vegetables hung heavily in the air and Harris’ stomach grumbled as he realised how hungry he was.
Harris could see that Lucy looked tired and drawn, but her eyes sparkled with life. Lucy had looked after their supplies since the beginning and her organisational skills were exactly what they needed to get everyone to safety. Unfortunately, if she didn’t think they could succeed then he would have to listen to her and try to plan around her objections.
“Lucy, I know it will be difficult but we don’t really have a choice,” Harris sighed as he sat down at the table.
“I am well aware of our limited options, Peter,” she replied with just a hint of iciness, “but the facts are what they are. We have clothing for half of our remaining number, food for three days, six if we ration heavily. What are you going to do, dear? Stop at the first McDonalds you come to on the way? I am sorry,” she countered immediately. “I am tired but that was uncalled for.”
Harris nodded, accepting the apology and looked around the table. He had been surprised when he had received an invitation from the council to attend its closed-door meeting. He had been at the hospital with Sandra, waiting for her to wake up. If she woke up. Amanda had warned him that it was still in God’s hands whether she would recover at all.
Amanda had been able to remove the bullet from her chest; it had been lodged two inches above her heart. She had lost a lot of blood but that wasn’t the main worry. She had also suffered a terrible head injury, the bullet creasing her skull, tearing a furrow and chipping the bone. Reitzig did not have the equipment to scan the wound and see if there was any internal damage so all she could do was monitor and wait. Of course, she had told him that she could not be moved under any circumstances. And she wasn’t the only one. The hospital was filled with the wounded and dying. What were they to do? Leave them and hope Carter would care for them? He had been sitting with her, quietly talking to her, telling her of everything that had happened since they had last seen each other. He had no idea if she could hear him, but the silence had been too much to bear so he had felt compelled to fill it.
Now, as he sat in the meeting room, he was coming to realise that his plan of abandoning their home was fast becoming an impossible task. But for all its impossibility, he knew it was what they had to do.
“Lucy,” he bega
n, looking her calmly in the eyes, “the food we have here will not last us any longer if we are moving or if we stay. The crops won’t be ready until the Spring, so that cannot be the reason not to go.” He held up his hand as he saw her prepare to respond. “I am aware of our lack of warm clothing and the fact that not all of those who leave here are likely to reach the train and even more are unlikely to survive the journey south but Carter is coming. Trust me, I have talked to him, looked into his eyes. He is consumed with hate and madness. He is coming and when he does everyone here will be slaughtered. There will be no reprieve. Either we go now or we decide to risk it all on a desperate last stand. I know we are all tired and even such a desperate gamble seems more attractive than venturing out into that weather and into the unknown but out there we have a chance. The children have a chance. Somehow we have to overcome the problems and save as many as we can.”
“You are asking the impossible, Peter,” she replied finally and then sighed. “But you have managed the impossible before so I suppose we must do likewise.” She smiled weakly.
Paul Williams, his previous goatee now replaced with a wild jumble of a beard, put up his hand timidly. He had been so much more confident with his voting when Harris had been banished but Harris forced himself to push the past aside. He had to work with these people, somehow, despite his feelings. He had not forgotten that someone in this room was also a spy for Von Richelieu or that they had killed young Jack Pearson, but that too would have to wait. One day he would find them but, until then, the danger that faced the rest of the community also faced the spy so it was in their interest to do everything they could to help.
“Maybe we can use the weather to our advantage,” Williams began and then hurriedly continued when he heard Phelps’ snort of derision. “I mean we could build sleighs. That way we can carry more per person than we could if we loaded them down with packs. We will also be able to transport some of the wounded more easily.”
“Excellent,” Harris nodded, “I can ask Emma to get her team to search the old city, the sports shops for skis and such. We stripped them of clothing long ago but never needed the skis. Good thinking.” He saw Williams sit up a little straighter and he smiled despite their situation. The others began to lean forward and throw ideas into the room and they spent the next hour planning.
As the meeting drew to a close they had come up with everything they could think of. Aiden Flemming and twenty others would set off later that day for the train station to gather all the coal and wood they could. If he remembered correctly, they had used up most of the supply on their last desperate journey. The train was useless if they couldn’t source enough fuel so Flemming and the others would have three days to do what they could to prepare for the arrival of the rest of them. Three days to get everyone else ready was far too long as far as Harris was concerned, but he bowed to the others who tried to explain the sheer size of the task. Managing the moving of two thousand people, some sick or wounded, others old or infirm along with every scrap of usable equipment they could carry was a huge task.
Harris only barely grasped the sheer effort required. He was too used to organising small numbers who could leave quickly and move freely. He was out of his depth with the task involved here. However, he was worried about Carter arriving and catching them before they were ready. It would be a slaughter if Carter caught them here, or worse, out in the open.
“I have one more thing we need to discuss,” his voice was quiet and many of the group had not heard him at first. He coughed. “There is one more thing,” he repeated. “I am sure we are all aware that not everyone will make the trip to the train. We have to decide whether it is in the best interest of the group to slow us down or whether we should leave them here.” Harris forced himself to look everyone in the eyes; some of them dropped their gaze quickly while others looked at him in shock and revulsion.
“We can carry the wounded on…” Phil Reagan began.
“Don’t be stupid, Phil,” Patricia Lohan snapped and then grabbed Reagan’s hand in hers in apology. “If Carter is on his way we have to move quickly. Those who are too wounded…
“I am not leaving any of my patients,” Amanda Reitzig thumped the table. “How dare you. Do you realise what you are suggesting?”
“I am well aware, Amanda. Sandra is one of those who might have to stay behind so I am well aware of what I am suggesting.” Silence settled until Amanda finally sat back in her chair and sighed.
“I’m still not leaving.”
“Amanda, your responsibility is to the larger group not to the few who are too injured to be able to walk. You can’t risk two thousand for the sake of a few.”
“Isn’t that the same argument you used when planning your rescues, Peter? Why was it okay then and not now?”
Harris’ face reddened as if slapped. She was right. He had put the needs of those in captivity above those of the community. He had been trying to build a self-sustaining community with enough people to allow growth and safety so it wasn’t quite the same. But it was close enough.
“I’m sorry, Peter, we’ve all lost…” Amanda reached for his hand but Harris pulled back and stood.
“No, you’re right. I have lost sight of the importance of the individual among the weight of the many. Of course, we will bring everyone. I will pull together a patrol and we’ll set some traps and try and slow Carter down. We’ll try and buy you the time to move the wounded. I am sorry, truly.” Without meeting anyone’s eyes, he gathered up his notes and hurried from the room. He had been fighting so long he had managed to lose sight of that which had caused him to begin his fight so long ago. Sandra would be disappointed with him. Yes, the wounded would slow them down and they might very well cause the death of some of the others, but that did not mean they should be abandoned. He had lost so many people he just couldn’t bear to lose anyone else. Even at the expense of those least able to defend themselves. He was becoming too hard he realised. He had read somewhere that fighting changed you, but he had not been prepared for such callousness. It had taken Amanda to remind him of his humanity and his responsibility and he was ashamed. He strode off to find Warkowski, his strides filled with a vigor he had been missing of late.
Chapter 11
Curtis Kavanagh examined the map as his mind raced. A week had passed since the humans had broken out from their cages. A week to allow the serum infected blood to flush from his body and he knew for certain that he had done the right thing. He no longer suffered from the uncontrollable rages that he had felt before. His mind was clear. He still didn’t know what had happened or why the blood had become infected, but he was certain that Von Richelieu had only recently discovered the side effects and had ensured that anyone who could challenge him remained on the tainted blood.
Kavanagh and the thirteen vampires who had been loyal to him had made use of the human breakout to secure their own supply of untainted humans. He had ordered his men to make any killings of other vampires to look like they had been attacked by the humans or the thralls but it had been a weak strategy. Von Richelieu was no fool. The fact that Kavanagh was missing would alert him to his escape. However, he would not be certain that his rival had discovered the blood’s taint so he might yet underestimate him.
Kavanagh and his followers had managed to secure fifty-eight humans during the escape. A hoard of them had made for the easiest route from the pens and Kavanagh had ordered his men to take as many as they could to their new location. They had been restricted in how far they could travel with the dawn so close so they had found a warehouse that had appeared to be sturdy. They had made three trips; the last one had been a desperate chase. He and three of his followers had arrived with their skin already blackening from the early rays from the sun. But they had made it. He and ten of his followers had survived. One had died, two had remained missing, and he did not know if they had been killed by vampire, thrall, human or the damned sunlight.
The first day after the escape had been a close thing. T
he humans had been belligerent, growing in confidence as the serum’s effects leached away. The vampires had been lethargic with light from the few windows diffusing through the warehouse. They could not cover the windows as the area had been too open and their numerous attempts to get near the windows had only met with blackened flesh and screams of pain. Their situation gave strength to the human’s resolve and they had attacked their captors, using the most lighted places of the warehouse to gather in numbers.
Vampires cannot operate in sunlight and they had struggled to police their prisoners. Vampires did not sleep as such but they did require complete darkness. They were damned to while away the hours of daylight, lethargic and helpless in their darkened sanctuaries while their minds raced. No one had told him of the hours he would have to think as one of the undead. No one had told him of the torture that he had to go through each night staring blankly into the darkness. How he wished he could turn everything off for a few hours every day.
But Kavanagh had made a mistake in taking so many humans with them. He had failed to account for the fact that the humans would become clear-headed quickly and the vampires would be helpless. He should have taken some thralls with him but he had made his move on the fly, taking advantage of the human breakout so there had not been time to plan ahead.
He had been forced to make a desperate gambit and he still remembered the pain from that night as he studied the map now. He remembered the fear. The humans sweated fear as they huddled in the centre of the warehouse bathed in light from the windows. As the sun grew stronger so too had their defiance and he began to wonder if his brief time as a vampire was already coming to an end. They had found themselves running from the approaching dawn and locked themselves in this building with their food. Unfortunately their prey had become emboldened with the sunlight and prey had become hunter. He and his fellow vampires surrounded the humans but they had been forced to hide themselves in the shadows, behind stalls, walls and machinery, anything that protected them from the searing pain from the sunlight.
