by Derek Gunn
Ventredi suspected that Von Kruger wanted word of the battle and Von Kruger’s new abilities to walk in sunlight to spread. If his enemies surrendered to him without having to fight each faction then he would not lose any more of his precious army. The attrition rate for the new change was too high. They had lost half their number the last time. Would that happen each time they ventured into the flames with new acolytes? If so then Von Kruger’s vampire army would be halved before a single battle was fought. But could they sustain a divided army of both blood and nuclear vampires?
Already many of those vampires who had had to flee the dawn had begged to be made like them. Ventredi had revealed the high cost to those he knew best and had been surprised to find that most had still demanded to take the test. Could they survive with half their number? They were no stronger than any other vampire. They did not heal any quicker. If Flynn attacked them at night with superior numbers then they would lose, regardless of their new abilities.
It was a worrying situation. They needed to understand this strange change. Added to this was the fact that the fires were already reducing to a low smouldering burn. No longer did the flames rage high into the air. They had already consumed everything around them. Did they need the flames at all? Would the radiation itself sustain them? If so, for how long? What would they do then? Were they doomed to move from nuclear plant to nuclear plant setting the world alight with radiation in order to survive? How often did they need to bathe in the fires? The questions were maddening. Ventredi had scouted earlier in the day with Von Kruger back to the fires and they had both felt a welcome wash when they flew low enough but how long would it last? Only one thing was certain. Their sustenance was a finite resource. Eventually they would run out of plants. Of course, by that time there would be nothing left alive in the world anyway so would there be any point in continuing on? He pulled himself from his thoughts as Von Kruger continued.
“Today, we offer the chance to those brave enough and worthy of the opportunity to join us.” So, it would appear that he was willing to risk his numbers after all, Ventredi mused. “Not all of you will survive this test but those who do will join their brethren in glory.” There were twenty vampires among his audience. Vampires carefully chosen from among the larger ranks. These would be a further test to see if the fires still had the power to change them and to see how many survived. Tonight’s test would reveal much. If half died again then Von Kruger would be forced to rethink his strategy, he hoped. If more than half survived then would he rush into a mass change? There was so much they did not yet know. But Ventredi’s future was now firmly tied to Von Kruger.
“Make sure you swoop low. The flames are lower today.” With that the twenty vampires surged into the air heading towards the dull glow in the distance. How many would come back? How many would they have to watch as they melted into oblivion? He looked around at those who remained and was surprised to see many of their faces eager to join those who raced towards their fate. Ventredi shook his head. Were they all mad? He sighed as he felt the energy flow through his veins. Would he have risked the change if he had known there was such a risk? He snorted and shook his head as he realised that, yes, he would be just as eager as those in front of him now. They were all mad he realised in a sudden flash of insight. This was one group of people Jesus had forgotten about. He had catered to the meek, the good and the bad, pigeon-holing their fates to their actions. What about the insane though? He laughed and courted strange looks from those around him. It would appear that it was the insane who were to inherit the world after all.
Chapter 18
There was a dry scratching noise that grated on her. That was the first thing she noticed. That and the cold. She couldn’t wriggle her nose. It was completely dark, intensely so without a star above. That couldn’t be right? She thought. Was she blind? How had that happened? She tried to raise her arm to ensure she could still see but her arm would not move.
She tried to concentrate, but it was so hard. She seemed to be floating, but the motion was not smooth; rather, it was jerky to the point that her stomach was nauseous. She tried to rise but something was holding her down. She managed to move an inch or so but then she hit a barrier of some sort and a flood of pain rushed through her so she collapsed back down and tried to order her thoughts.
There was a strange howling all around her that she could not place. It seemed to whistle, building to a high screech and then a roar would suddenly erupt and the whistle would disappear, only to come back a few moments later. And something was pressing on her intermittently; it felt as though someone had laid a heavy blanket over her and then whipped it away. Other times it felt as though small bundles were thrown at her as she felt the pressure strike her and move away.
She tried to concentrate again but her mind felt sluggish. Sleep pressed in on her but she fought against it. She wasn’t sure why but it seemed that sleep was her enemy here. If she fell asleep she thought she might not wake again. She tried to call out but her throat was dry and a searing pain clamped her lungs. Her cry sounded like a death rattle and she panicked. Was she dying? She could feel her body respond to her fear and adrenaline surged through her, pushing back the veil of sluggishness momentarily. She saw herself raising her weapon and then the felt the bullets slam into her again. I was hit. But where am I now? This isn’t the infirmary? Did the thralls succeed?
She ignored the pain as she struggled to rise again. The questions swirled through her mind, giving her a focus, a tether to ground herself to. She tried again to cry out, her throat tried to clamp shut again against the pain, but she pushed through it and managed a weak cry. Something moved from her face and suddenly light filtered in, blinding her. With the light came the most intense cold she had ever felt. Wind lashed at her face and big, cold droplets of ice struck her face. She opened her mouth again but wind and snow rushed in making her cough and setting off another wave of pain. Had she been left out in the storm?
“It’s okay,” she heard the words as if they were spoken from a distance. The voice sounded strained. She saw a blur move across her field of vision, but couldn’t see what or who it was. “Sandra,” she heard the voice again. “It’s okay, calm down. You’re safe.” She felt something brush against her face and her vision cleared. She saw Amanda. More accurately she saw Amanda’s eyes. The rest of her face was swaddled in a scarf. What the hell is going on? She thought, but allowed Amanda to press her back down. Amanda disappeared and she heard a muffled stream of words and then Amanda was back, pulling her scarf away from her mouth. Her smile sent a flood of relief through her. Amanda was talking again but the words washed over her unheeded. The smile had been enough. If Amanda was smiling then she would trust to that until her damn head cleared.
Amanda Reitzig sighed in relief. She had worried that Sandra’s condition was deteriorating. The fact that she had not woken up had been worrying. It was impossible to change dressings on the wounds with her patients strapped on to the sleighs and wrapped in as many warm cloths as they could spare. They had already lost six patients and one older woman who had succumbed to the cold. Amanda felt each loss personally and had argued for each person’s burial. She was adamant that they should take the time for everyone and she had won for the first three but, after that, everyone had been looking behind them as if expecting to see Carter powering through the storm after them.
Too many were dying. Apathy and fear for their own safety had slowly taken hold and now she barely managed to gather enough people to remove the body and cover it lightly with snow before they hurried on to catch the main party of the caravan.
She was exhausted. Physically she could barely stand as she rushed along the moving line, opening layers of clothing, ensuring IV drips had not frozen, though most had so she had to replace them with ones she wore beneath her own clothing. Replacing the layers and moving on to the next. She had been doing this constantly now for four hours and the snow wasn’t making it any easier. Losing a patient was draining, though t
he worst part was the constant battle with the living, forcing those who pulled the sleighs to stop while she examined the patients who were still alive. Trying to ignore their hard glares as she delayed them and fighting yet another battle with Tony Grier when she wanted to bury those who had died.
She felt for all her patients but she had been most worried about Sandra Harrington. Her wounds were severe and she had not had the correct facilities to operate. Her worry was not just for her patient though. She knew that Sandra meant so much to this community. She was a founding member, her exploits were still told to children by grateful parents, and her loss would be devastating to everyone. Her well-being until now had been almost taken for granted. It was as if she were charmed. Destined to be their protector forever. She was the soul of this community. No, her death would be hard to take.
If Sandra Harrington died, she also feared for Peter Harris. Whatever the council may tell themselves, this community’s survival depended squarely on Peter Harris’ shoulders. It always had. Even when he had been banished he had protected them. If Sandra was their soul then Peter was their heart. He was a tower of strength and she feared that he would not recover if Sandra were to die. She tried to prepare him before she had left, but she could see that he was pushing away the reality, using his mission to block the potential heartbreak. He would continue to concentrate on his mission until he joined them again and then he might have to face a completely different reality. One he was not prepared for.
She was not out of the woods yet, but the fact that she had woken up spoke volumes and allowed Amanda to sigh in relief for a brief moment before she moved on to her next patient. She looked out into the snow, trying to see through the storm. How much further? She felt the urge to find Grier and learn where they were, but she was just too tired. She stood where she was, feeling the cold of the snow seep into her boots, sucking her body heat. Oh to just lie down and fall asleep. She heard the laboured grunting of the men as they struggled with their sleigh and she held up her hand to stop them. They stopped, but were soon looking over their shoulders, eager to get going again. She ignored them and moved over to her next patient. A blanket of snow rested on the prone body as if nature had already decided her patient’s fate and buried this person. She pulled herself up onto the sleigh and angrily wiped the snow away. Her motions were laboured, but the adrenaline kicked in and soon she had revealed the body beneath. She hated this part. She pulled the blanket from the faces and examined them. She held a small mirror against their mouths and almost collapsed in relief when a thin line of moisture caught on the surface. Alive, thank God.
She continued on with her ritual, replacing IVs and ensuring bandages were not too soiled and then proceeded to replace the covers and motioned for the men to continue onwards. She looked back and saw the next struggling pair. Jesus, when will this end?
* * *
Harris heard the rumble of tanks and cursed. Had they bought enough time? It only seemed like they had been fighting for less than an hour. That wasn’t enough time. Even the tanks would make up the distance against his people struggling through this storm. Yes, they might find it difficult to find them, their trail would be non-existent in this storm, but it was a large convoy of people and Carter could send vehicles out in multiple directions until he found them. They had to delay them further.
He hobbled back to where Seager would be waiting, cursing his torn heel. Bullets stitched the air but most of them were just fired by thralls shooting their relief as the tanks rumbled up behind them. It did force him to keep low though. The numerous fires backlit any movement so he had to take the longer way around. It wouldn’t matter if a bullet was aimed or not if it hit him.
April and Seager were exactly where they were meant to be. April looked frightened. She might not be able to hear the tanks but their vibrations were easily felt through the earth, even packed with snow as it was.
“Are we going?” Seager looked just as frightened but he put a brave face to it, although his relief at seeing Harris was obvious.
“You are,” Harris panted as he drew level and pulled his scarf from his mouth so April could read his lips. Seager started to object but Harris cut him off. “I’m not sending you away, Robert. I need you to catch up with the others and get them moving faster. Tell them to leave the heavier items and make their way to the train as quickly as they can. Get Grier to leave a few men to take out any scouts and delay any advance.” He looked at April. “You have to get them to understand. Leave anything that isn’t critical. Otherwise those tanks will roll over them and we’ll lose everything.” April nodded and pulled Seager with her.
“We’ll see you later, right?” Seager looked at Harris earnestly and Harris could not hold the boy’s gaze. He nodded briefly and turned back towards the gunfire. He needed to find Warkowski and McAteer. A small smile cracked his face as a thought began to form.
* * *
“You’re serious?” McAteer shouted over the noise. There were five tanks and twelve half-tracks in the force that was already positioning itself and the noise from their engines was deafening. The scene was a strange one. On one side there was a huge force and on the other a few ragged fighters. It seemed impossible but there was a stalemate. The dawn was beginning to crack the horizon, spreading its fingers of light across the scene. Between the two sides lay the reason for the stalemate. One of the huge tanks lay on its side, silent with black smoke pouring from its hatch.
The humans had been lucky. The tank had come too close to a fuel drum that had soaked the surrounding snow. Once the tank drew close McAteer had thrown a flare into the saturated area and a wall of flame erupted around the tank. The crew of the tank had been taken by surprise. They were not trained for tank warfare, merely told how to drive and shoot so the sudden extreme rise in heat terrified them. Every surface was suddenly too hot to touch and they panicked. They opened the hatch to escape but the fire poured down into the tank like a living entity, burning and searing them as they scrambled to escape. After a few minutes the shells overheated and the tank blew. The tank had been thrown into the air. The thralls on the main lines did not see what had happened; only that a sudden wall of flame had appeared and one of their tanks had been torn apart. They were unsure if the surface before them was mined or whether the humans had some sort of weapon. Either way, they were happy to wait until the light came and they could examine the scene more carefully.
Every now and again one of the humans would fire from cover and the answering fire would saturate the surrounding area with .50 calibre blasts and a few high explosive shells for good measure. The humans were long gone but the sheer noise and physical presence of the tanks were taking their toll.
“We have to do something while the light is still poor,” Harris insisted. “Once they see the ground is clear they’ll roll over us and won’t stop until they blow the shit out of our train.”
“I see that,” McAteer sighed, “but, hell, it’s a bit desperate. Even for you.”
Harris shrugged. “How many do we have left?”
“Twelve still able to move,” McAteer said. “Three others too wounded to be going anywhere in a hurry, or anywhere at all if I’m honest. And Waters has a bullet in his leg but can still hobble. Caulfield rigged him a crutch but he won’t be running in the hundred meters for a while.”
“Okay, send Waters off after Seager and April. They could do with somebody older when they catch up with Grier in case he doesn’t take them seriously.” McAteer nodded. “The three wounded can take up positions on the hill with Warkowski and his team. I don’t want to hear it, Warkowski.” Harris turned to the big man. “You’re more valuable up there keeping their heads down than staying down here. Anyway, you’re too damn big, might as well carry a flare above your head and start singing for all the skills you have for covert work.”
Warkowski was about to argue but shrugged instead and laid a slab of a hand on Harris’ shoulder. “Take care, my friend. I have no intention of explaining to Mi
ss Harrington how you stood heroically till the last so please keep your damn fool head down.”
“Are we set?” Harris asked McAteer and the soldier nodded.
“Jesus, I was told you were unorthodox, but this is just plain crazy.”
Warkowski laughed. “When we are safely away from here I’ll tell you of the time he ran straight at the vampire lord of this area with nothing but his bare hands. Now that was crazy. By comparison this plan is merely on the fringes of madness.”
“I should have stayed in the camps,” McAteer laughed.
Carter surveyed the open ground and fidgeted. He wanted to force an advance. They were in tanks for fuck’s sake. But the still smoking ruin of the destroyed tank was proof positive that the humans were not without their teeth. If he pressed his forces forward and lost another tank they would turn on him like rabid dogs.
He had to be clever. In another hour it would be bright enough to advance safely. The humans could have littered the whole area with mines and this damned snow provided the perfect cover. But he couldn’t sit and do nothing either. He had already sent a sizable force back on their trail. That patrol would make their way behind the humans and take them from the rear. He had sent thirty thralls into that flanking manoeuvre and he was confident that they would crush the humans. What was another hour? And, if his thralls believed that he was waiting on the dawn for their safety, it would only help his standing.
As well as flanking the humans he had ordered a number of fuel cans brought forward from their supply and his thralls were already soaking the ground ahead of them in diesel. Before they moved out he would set the whole area on fire. The heat would take out any mines that might be ahead of them and the flames would hide the tanks as they advanced. If they kept moving the heat wouldn’t harm the tanks and the flames as well as the flanking team would catch the humans unprepared.
