Vampire Apocalypse: Descent Into Chaos (Book 2)

by Derek Gunn

  Sandra Harrington grimaced as she pulled herself up from her bed. It had been two months since she had run screaming at Nero, forcing him back onto the spear and impaling herself at the same time. She had nearly died then; she would have, too, if Steele hadn’t been there to stem the flow of blood and stabilize her until they had gotten her to a medical facility.

  She only remembered fragments of that day. The death of her father still lay like a heavy blanket over her. There was so much more she had wanted to say to him, feelings and memories she wanted to share. They had been separated for much of her early years but the last two years had gone some way to making up for his earlier absence. She had wanted to tell him that. She had wanted to explain that, despite the danger and terror of the last two years, she had been happier with him that she had ever been. She had wanted to explain that the constant arguments and frictions they had had didn’t mean that she didn’t love him; in fact, it showed just the opposite—that she wanted his approval and understanding.

  Harris kept reminding her that he must have known how she had felt. If everyone else in the complex had been able to see it, then Dan Harrington couldn’t have missed it. He might be right, she sighed, but she still would have liked to have told him.

  She staggered a little and shot out her hand to steady herself as a wave of dizziness swept over her. She hadn’t been up much over the last few weeks. The spear had torn through her chest, narrowly missing a major artery but still shredding enough muscle to keep her bedridden as she healed. She really shouldn’t be up now, but Regan had called for an election and, as one of the few remaining council members, she just had to attend. It was even more critical that she attend with Harris and the others out on unapproved mission, as Regan enthusiastically reminded everyone at every opportunity.

  Phil Regan was one of the ‘newbies’, as they had come to call those who had recently been weaned off the serum. She thought back to the old complex before the last attack and smiled as she remembered how everyone had thought that two hundred and fifty residents was a huge number. Now they supported over three thousand souls, from the age of eight upwards. They hadn’t found anyone younger than that. Her blood still boiled when she thought of how the surviving thralls had explained that the blood of infants and children under ten were considered a particular delicacy by the vampires. The bastards had gorged themselves over the last two years and had eradicated an entire generation.

  They now had people scattered all over what remained of their town but within a three-mile circumference so they could easily return to the numerous defensive areas that had been set up. Some had returned to their original homes if they were within the limits dictated by the council, others lived in nearby hotels or office blocks, anywhere that was structurally sound and could be defended, if necessary. They hadn’t had any contact with other cabals, but they hadn’t expected any based on the vampires’ reluctance to mix among their own kind and the early arrival of the cold weather.

  They had enough food to last through this winter but next year would be a little lean. Harris had spent all his free time visiting her and had filled her in on all the assignments. They now had people trained in critical professions and crafts. They had engineers looking at the town’s power grid, plumbers looking at sanitation and running water, and gardeners and horticulturists looking at re-planting neglected fields. They had plenty of people working at re-building their defenses and facilities. They spent every waking hour working to carve out a place where they could all survive and grow, but all the time they had to be careful that the town did not look any different than it had under the vampires.

  Fields were ploughed but covered at night with green and dun colored sheets to hide the freshly turned soil; power was restored to critical facilities but from outside the town looked the same as it always had. Their supplies of fuel were almost non-existent—another reason for Harris’ mission—but what they did have was helping to prepare the community for what lay ahead.

  With the huge increase of people came a need for the original group to adapt. Before, where one person could control certain important functions such as food assignments, security and so forth, they now had teams working each area. The small committee did its best to cope but none of the original group was actually trained for civil administration and, increasingly, they found themselves unable to cope with rising demands, civil decisions and the growing number of conflicting views.

  Many of the newly awakened had their own ideas on how things should be done. Some wanted to rebuild, to train their people and increase their supplies. Others wanted to wait until they were fully ready and then go out and slowly retake the surrounding towns, still others just wanted to stay put and hide from the vampires and ignore what was happening around them. Sandra could understand that people were scared, some were just plain selfish, but they all had a responsibility. The newbies had only just gotten back their freedom and they didn’t want to risk it again so quickly, but the serum was a deadly concoction and, if they waited until next year, there might not be anyone left to rescue. There was just no way for a small community like theirs to survive indefinitely in this world. They had to grow or die.

  Someday the lack of contact by Nero’s cabal would be noted and investigated. They would be discovered and they would be wiped out without breaking a sweat. Their only hope lay in growing as quickly as they could. Harris’ plan called for a series of raids on the neighboring cabals, which would further degrade the already strained relationships between the different factions. Using these raids as cover, they could swell their own supplies and numbers until they reached a point where their power base was large enough to withstand a concerted attack. Before the serum was introduced, the humans had been starting to turn the tide on the vampires, so, if they could grow quickly enough by taking on each cabal individually, they could grow to a size where their increased numbers could take on any coalition forces that the vampires might draw together.

  Unfortunately, the original group was in the minority now and such a plan was risky and would require severe rationing. It also required most of the people to make themselves available for military service, and this did not sit well with many of the new residents. This growing discontent was providing the perfect opportunity for other factions to gain support in areas where they would not normally have been able.

  Phil Regan was one of these people. He knew politics, having served on election campaigns as a speechwriter. He didn’t advertise that none of his campaigns had been successful but he did know how to write a damn good speech and was able to deliver it with great emotion and credibility. In committee meetings, though, he was petty, disruptive and power hungry, but, to his growing base of supporters, he was open, handsome and, according to his manifesto, the future.

  Peter Harris was the closest thing the committee had to a public face and he just didn’t have the skills to compete. He was impetuous and intolerable of others when they didn’t give 100 percent in their assigned duties. He worked himself ragged trying to rebuild their community and this left no time to wander around and take the time to meet the people. He was everything the community needed—honest, hard working and caring, but had none of the skills to portray this. Regan, however, had none of those qualities but all of the necessary PR skills to make it appear as though he had.

  A battle had been raging in the committee for over a week now. Harris argued that a unique situation existed at this moment in time between the two neighboring states that might not only set the cabals at each others throats but could also give them an opportunity to save more people and obtain fuel and supplies in the resulting confusion. The committee had agreed but Regan had not. His growing support within the community had forced the committee to allow him, and a number of his supporters, on to a new, larger committee and the resultant arguments had lasted all week.

  Harris was used to arguments, he had spent his time arguing against her own father often enough, but, while those arguments were based on mutual resp
ect and a desire to do the right thing, Regan argued for personal advancement and power building. He put his own safety and position ahead of anyone else. Unfortunately, only the members of the committee were privy to his real motivations.

  Harris had finally stormed out, gathered up his crew, and set off on the mission without approval. Sandra could see that this was probably the humane and correct thing to do, but his impetuous actions had left the core committee in a precarious position. Regan argued that if they did not have the power or the tenacity to control their own members then they could hardly be trusted to look after such a large community.

  The old committee had served admirably to this point but they needed to pass the reigns to those who could better handle the growing needs of the new community. To this end, Regan had used Harris’ departure to demand that an election be called and to let the people decide who should lead them. They were, after all, a democracy, were they not?

  It was this election that had Sandra stumbling from her sick bed to attend a public debate that would decide the future of their community.

  The room was filled with people and the noise of the various heated exchanges struck Sandra like a physical blow as she entered. There was a raised platform at the far end of the room and she could see a few of the committee members trying vainly to restore order. Regan sat back and watched the room, the smile on his face indicating that the chaos in the room was exactly what he had wanted.

  Patrick Smyth, their resident scientist, waved his arms franticly and banged a small gavel on the desk as he tried to restore order. Smith was a lovely and quite brilliant man, but he was not accustomed to addressing large crowds and he was drowning in the sea of abuse and raised voices that swept over him. He caught sight of Sandra and his eyes portrayed a deep sadness that she had never seen before. Sandra made her way towards the desk. Patrick was the only member of the original committee behind the desk and Regan sat with five of his closest supporters, so the balance of the debate was clearly against him.

  Regan stiffened as he caught sight of Sandra, and she smiled to herself at the look of annoyance that creased his face. He obviously hadn’t expected her to make it.

  “Ah, Sandra there you are,” he announced and his voice immediately brought calm to the proceedings and conversations trailed off as people strained to see how things developed. “We were just discussing Peter’s heroic outing.”

  I just bet you were, she thought as she finally made it to the edge of the raised platform. She was exhausted already and cursed herself as she had to stop to catch her breath. What was worse was that Regan took the opportunity to jump down to her and help her to her seat. She really didn’t want to appear weak, and certainly did not want Regan to appear any more dashing and helpful than he already was. He grabbed her by the arm and squeezed hard as he directed her to her seat. She didn’t have the energy to resist and had no choice but to let him lead her. She seethed with anger but maintained a congenial smile throughout; there was no point in giving him any more ammunition.

  She dropped into her chair with relief and Pat turned to her, concern etched all over his face.

  “I’m fine,” she whispered and winked at him. Regan took his time returning to his seat, and by the time he had settled himself the room had become quiet again.

  “As I was saying,” Regan continued, “what one member of the community does directly affects the survival of all of us. If one person eats more than their share or doesn’t do the tasks assigned to them then we all suffer. After all, we are in this together, wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”

  Sandra could see exactly where he was going but had no choice but to agree. “What you say has merit,” she answered, “however...”

  “There is no ‘however’, my dear,” Regan interrupted and Sandra suppressed the urge to slap the smile from his face. But the damage was done—a low mumbling of resentment began to spread through the room. “Eating more than one’s share is only a minor infringement; what young Peter has done is far worse. His actions threaten to expose us all and put our families in the gravest danger.” The mumbling in the room grew louder as Regan expertly steered the people where he wanted them.

  “We can’t just sit here and hide for the rest of our lives!” Sandra could feel her control slipping as she formed her response, and her voice cracked slightly as she tried to be heard over the growing noise. “We are running low on fuel and food and do not have enough of either to survive in the long term if we do not get them elsewhere. Peter and the others are out there risking their lives—yet again, I might add—so that you can feed your families and keep them warm over the next few months.” She paused for breath and the room quieted as her message began to get through. “Yes, it’s a risk, but their plan is an excellent one that will set our neighboring factions against each other while we benefit. The gains from their excursion will see us all comfortable and safe during the winter, and by next spring all the work we are doing in the fields will bear us enough food so we can be more independent. Until then, we have to get our supplies anywhere we can.”

  She was getting through to them, she could feel it, and took a moment to glance over at Regan. Outwardly he remained calm, but Sandra imagined she could see gears smoking in his head as he frantically tried to regain the initiative. She decided to push on with the committee’s main argument.

  And in so doing made her mistake.

  “The serum is killing families all over…”

  “What proof do we have of that?” Regan’s voice easily cut through the rumblings of approval for Sandra’s impassioned plea and the crowd went suddenly quiet.

  Sandra faltered as the question took her by surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…” Regan rose from his chair and a hush fell over the room as every eye followed him. Sandra might not agree with him but she had to admit the man knew exactly how to work a room to his advantage. “And this is meant as no disrespect to Doctor Smith, but are we certain of that? We keep hearing of this impending disaster, but what if the results were misinterpreted? I mean Pat is very good at his job, but how qualified is he to make that call? What kind of doctor did you say you were, Mister Smith?”

  Pat Smith flushed and his podgy cheeks grew redder under the intense scrutiny. He was a private man, more at home in his lab than trying to calm a room full of people. He was a chemist by trade but the committee had decided long ago to keep that detail secret. They had a dangerous shortage of medical staff, and none of those they had had any researching skills so could not confirm or deny Pat’s startling findings. At this time they needed everyone’s cooperation in weaning their survivors off the serum. This was a priority if they were to save as many people as they could, and they could not afford useless debate while others died.

  The fact that Regan was prepared to use this information shocked Sandra. Regan was well aware of the chaos this would bring to their community. He had just raised the stakes and put the honor of the whole committee into question, regardless of their motives.

  “Yes,” Regan continued to a rapt audience. “Our leaders have not been entirely honest with you. Mister Smith.” Regan took great pleasure in emphasizing the word ‘Mister’. “Though I am sure he is excellent at what he does, he is not actually a doctor. He is merely a chemist.”

  Every eye in the room moved to Smith and Sandra as the room filled with angry voices and Sandra couldn’t help shooting Regan a look of pure hatred.

  Regan let the shouting build like a conductor extolling an orchestra to greater heights. Sandra struggled to be heard as she appealed for calm. “We had very…” she began but the shouting drowned her out and she had no choice but to let the angry tide wash over her and hope that they would listen when they eventually calmed down.

  Regan watched impassively, a look of sad resignation on his face, though Sandra was sure that he was delighted with the crowd’s reaction. The larger community that they now served had been straining against the authority of a committee that had not b
een duly elected by them all for weeks now. There had been more griping and disagreements than usual but nothing serious till now. The committee had promised a full election and had delivered on that promise. Unfortunately, they had been forced to be quite severe in their rationing and work assignments lately in order to keep the community going until the election could be organized. They had few provisions and so much work to do as the community grew far beyond their current supplies. Their actions, though necessary, had caused resentment among the new arrivals that had been spared the horror of the vampire attack two months ago. These people did not truly appreciate the precarious position of their community in this new world. And unfortunately, the number of new arrivals was far in excess of those who had a better understanding.

  Regan was tapping into this resentment but Sandra had not expected this sort of attack. He might be a bastard, and she might not have agreed with all of his ideas, but she had believed that he had the community’s’ interests at heart. Obviously, though, the community’s needs came second to his own ambitions. This latest attack, though, was designed to throw the whole community into chaos and that threatened their very survival. If they split as a community, then they would all die.

  He raised his hand and the room began to come to order. “It pains me…” he continued and appeared close to tears. God, he is playing us so well, Sandra thought and only her knowledge of what he was doing kept her from falling for his act. “…but I feel that everyone deserves the truth.” There was a sudden rush of shouted approval and Regan waited a moment as he let the support grow. “We will only survive in this new world if we work together. We come from a world where mankind’s mistrust and dishonesty led to our downfall. Countries fell too easily to the vampires because they did not trust each other enough to coordinate a united resistance and I’ll be damned if I will be a party to such deceit now.” Shouts of agreement and approval swept over the room like a physical wave.