Vampire Apocalypse: Descent Into Chaos (Book 2)

by Derek Gunn

  He had spent most of the day trying to gather and reorganize his shattered forces, though why he was bothering he really did not know. He had cleared away any bodies that he could get to, but most of the carnage had occurred over the border and Von Kruger’s thralls still patrolled there. He wondered idly why they did not clear away their own dead. Maybe there were not enough of them to clear away the bodies and still patrol the border. He wasn’t in any position to take advantage of this and attack anyway so it didn’t really matter.

  He sighed. The situation had deteriorated badly and far too quickly for anyone to follow. The vampires seemed to have gone mad. He had never see vampires fight before. He had volunteered to be a thrall because the family he had run numbers for had been wiped out. He had been offered a simple choice: live and have access to pleasures he had only dreamed of before or have his throat ripped out. He chose survival. He was even able to admit to himself that he would probably have chosen to be a thrall even without the threat of death. The power was incredible, and now that he commanded his own forces he would be able to live like a king.

  Of course, that was before this damned border war had started. This wasn’t just a skirmish. He had been involved in border crossings before, and every time there had been a few killed on either side and things had returned to normal soon after. No one could afford a protracted war with resources as limited as they were. And the vampires had never become involved before, no matter how badly it had gone for either side.

  The vampires had always remained aloof. They were always there, but on the periphery, as if to remind the thralls that they were there but never usually taking an active part. Last night was the first time he had seen them fight. In reality he had only seen them as darting shapes in the flickering light of the surrounding fires. It had been more like a demented strobe light show than a fight, with figures blurring and disappearing faster than he could follow. But the destruction they had left behind them was only too real and he was still shaking with fear hours later.

  Tanks and vehicles had been ripped to pieces like paper models. Hundreds of thralls had been torn apart; their bodies emptied of blood and discarded contemptuously around the battlefield. Since he had become a thrall he had reveled in his power. His strength and speed were far greater than any human’s. He had begun to believe himself like a God among his captives. But his power was nothing compared to the vampires. For the first time in years he felt vulnerable and afraid.

  He had spoken briefly with Wentworth, or, more accurately, he had listened while the master had ranted at him. He had never been so scared in his life. Despite the approaching dawn Wentworth had remained behind after his surviving vampires had long gone to make sure that his orders were understood. The vampire had been enraged at what had happened, and Falconi could see madness dance within his master’s eyes. He had ranted and raged about Von Kruger, so filled with anger that Falconi had been convinced that the vampire would strike him down at any moment. He had watched as the vampire seemed to struggle with himself, forcing down his anger so that he could pass on his orders coherently.

  Blood seeped from everywhere on the vampire’s body; some of the wounds were so deep that bone and organs were visible through the lacerated flesh. Falconi could see that the vampire was weak but he still exuded a will that was impossible to ignore. At one stage Wentworth had been so crazed that he had attacked two thralls who had stood on either side of Falconi. The master had surged forward with such speed that Falconi did not even see him until he was gorging on the two soldiers, ripping at their throats and sucking greedily while most of their precious blood had splashed on the ground. When he had finished, the vampire seemed to calm slightly, though his eyes still blazed with a madness that Falconi found deeply unsettling.

  Wentworth had ordered all reserves to be called up immediately. He had already sent his own vampires to gather his brethren so Falconi only had to worry about his own forces. He would also have to summon as many humans as he could, unless he wanted his own men to be used as food for the coming hoards of vampires. The nightmare of logistics in getting these soldiers and humans to the front with little transport available flashed through his mind, but he did not dare voice these concerns to Wentworth. He did not think that the vampire would be able to refrain from beheading him. He had merely nodded and watched meekly as the vampire lunged into the air and disappeared into the brightening sky.

  Falconi had only managed to breathe after he had lost sight of the vampire.

  Falconi had fretted all day as more and more problems came to his attention. The sun’s steady progress across the sky was like a tolling bell marking the passing hours until Wentworth returned. There just was not enough fuel to transport the humans that the vampires would need after their long journey. There were not enough thralls available to guard the humans and patrol the front lines. He could strip their other borders of guards but that would leave them open to attack should any of their neighbors decide to take advantage. Where could they even keep the humans if they could get them here? There just weren’t enough facilities to cater for that number of people.

  He had handled each complaint that had come to him from his men in the same manner. He had listened calmly to the problem, nodding as the officer laid out the issue. When the officer had finished Falconi had merely motioned for the man to follow him as he led him to a point where they could view the area where the vampires had fought the night before. He had wordlessly handed binoculars to the officer in question and indicated the patch of ground where over a hundred thralls lay strewn around, their bodies ripped to shreds. He had then reminded them that less than ten vampires had caused the destruction they were now looking at, and had then informed them that over a hundred vampires were on their way and would arrive over the next few hours. He assured them that at least the same number of vampires would also be arriving on the other side of the border and that if they did not have sufficient humans to feed them then the vampires would use the thralls instead.

  After that most of the arguments had stopped, though the physical problems had not disappeared. Necessity was the mother of invention though, and he had given his officers sufficient incentive to come up with their own solutions. Falconi looked out again at the destruction and watched as the sun began to sink further beneath the horizon. He had done everything he could to get his forces in place in time. It would take a few days to get them all here and he would leave the other borders dangerously exposed, but he would get his men and the humans here. Already he had accomplished more than he had thought possible, though whether it was enough or not would be decided by Wentworth’s mood when he woke up.

  He did not know what had changed that had brought the vampires into this conflict, but, whatever it was, it had changed everything irrevocably. The coming night would have major repercussions for everyone. If they survived.

  Dee Ratigan watched the town with a growing sense of unease. She had remained behind after Harris and the others had left to keep an eye on the proceedings. She had spent a long, cold night listening to the fighting and watching the sudden flares of light on the horizon but had not been able to keep track of what was happening with any certainty. The previous night’s conflict had shocked her, regardless. The thralls had never committed so many forces to their previous border skirmishes and she was worried that this sudden escalation was quickly getting to a point where there would be open warfare between the states, and that was not necessarily what they wanted.

  They had engineered the current fighting to keep each side occupied and looking the other way while the humans pilfered supplies and rescued as many as they could while each side blamed the other for the losses. A full-scale war would only make it more difficult for them to move around unseen and would tie up those very resources they wanted to steal. But, even in the planning for a worst-case scenario, they had not catered for the carnage that had occurred last night. It had been difficult for her to observe the fighting with any real clarity during the night but
the cacophony of the battle and the towering flames that dotted the horizon were like a scene from hell rather than a small border disagreement. The yellow/orange glow that had painted the night had only hinted at the carnage that lay hidden in its undulating caress, but the dawn’s first probing fingers had revealed a scene that had shocked her deeply.

  She had remained in hiding—riveted in place was more accurate—as she tried to piece together the night’s events through her powerful scope. There was ample evidence of explosives damage, tank fire, and plenty of thrall bodies littering the ground where bullets had ripped the life from them and left them in broken heaps all along the battlefield. But that wasn’t what worried her most. In one section she could see the bodies of over a hundred thralls who appeared to be have been torn apart. It was as if they had all been torn apart by an explosion, but, from what she could see, there were no accompanying scorch marks to explain it.

  It could be that the distance and the growing heat haze from the surprisingly warm winter’s sun was playing tricks on her. But there was also a distinct lack of blood covering the ground around the bodies, and the only other alternative frightened her to the extreme. The vampires had never gotten involved before. Why would they now? If the fighting escalated to include the vampires, then the rebels would have no chance of moving about undetected. She had to get the news back to the others, but she didn’t want to report suspicions, she wanted to be sure before she brought back her findings.

  She yearned to return to their camp and check on Rodgers. The last she had seen of him was when he had been loaded into the truck packed with glassy-eyed prisoners. He had winked at her but blood had been pumping from his wounds and she was sick with worry. She knew that his wounds weren’t too bad but any wound in this new world could be fatal with their lack of antibiotics and blood plasma. He wasn’t as badly hurt as Steele, she knew, but she wasn’t in love with Steele. As she thought about that she caught her breath. That was the first time she had admitted, even to herself, the strength of her feelings for Rodgers, and it took her back a bit. She wasn’t even sure if Rodgers felt anything for her, though she had dropped enough hints. He either had no interest at all or he was particularly senseless where women were concerned. Having talked to Sandra Harrington about it, she was fairly certain that Rodgers was just senseless and would need a more direct approach.

  She wasn’t entirely sure where her feelings had come from. Rodgers was not the kind of guy that she had ever gone for before, although the fact that she spent most of her time alone with her weapons as each successive male friend had either let her down or wanted something far shallower than she had been looking for made her think that maybe she had been looking at the wrong type of guy up till now. Rodgers was different. He lived life and enjoyed it. He was able to find good in most people, something that she had long ago lost the ability to do. She felt a sudden warmth spread through her despite the cold of the ground, and then she wrenched her thoughts back to the present. If she continued to give in to her fantasies she was likely to make a mistake and, out here, that would mean death. And not just hers.

  She continued to watch the small town from a distance and saw the bustle of activity begin even before the light had banished the myriad dark corners around the buildings. At first she found it hard to gauge exactly what they were doing—they seemed to be ignoring the town’s shattered defenses and instead seemed to have most of their resources tied up expanding the cage in the centre of the town. She thought about this as she watched the thralls working and, a realization slowly began to dawn on her sleep-deprived brain. Suddenly, all thoughts of Rodgers were banished from her mind. Judging by the size of the new cage, the thralls were obviously planning on catering for a huge number of humans and that could only mean…

  Oh my God, she thought and rolled back down the small hill where she sat shaking for some time before she could make herself move again. The others had to be told.

  Chapter 15

  Dave Sherman watched as April left the building that served the community as a hospital. The building was a short distance from the main complex of apartments they now used as their main living quarters. The complex had been a great find. Set on the outskirts of the main city, it included apartments, shopping and leisure facilities all interconnected through a series of clever tunnels that crisscrossed the entire complex. While many of the facilities were useless to them now, it did give them cover from any vampires that might fly over the area. While this might a minor risk with the insular nature of the vampires’ current setup, that could easily change. The hospital was set apart from the complex for the purpose of confinement in the unlikely event of a breach of quarantine. Sherman lay comfortably on the roof of a nearby building and watched the girl through his powerful scope. He could see the red blotches around her eyes that betrayed the tears she had shed while visiting Steele. I’ll give you something to cry about, he thought as he grinned lasciviously from his hiding place.

  He felt himself grow excited and shifted his position. He savored the feeling as adrenaline pumped through his body but he forced himself to be patient. The community was still too small for one of their number to just go missing, especially someone so young. He cursed Steele for the millionth time. Before he had shown an interest in the girl, there would have been no one to notice her going missing. Sure there might have been a half-hearted search, but no one really knew anything about the girl and the rigors of their new life would soon have made her a distant memory. And he would have had all the time in the world for his plans.

  But not now. Now, Steele would move heaven and earth if she went missing. Sherman cursed again. He cursed his luck that Steele had survived. When he had seen him fall on the raid he had been delighted, but the bastard looked like he was going to pull through. Unless of course he got the wrong medications. A plan began to form in Sherman’s mind as he began to put his scope away. It wasn’t as if there was any real security in the hospital. He should be able to slip in and out without too much trouble. Sherman watched April turn the corner and relished the way her young body swayed. Soon, he thought and then he slipped from his hiding place and approached the hospital.

  It was time to visit his old friend Steele.

  The hospital smelled funny. There were the familiar odors that Sherman associated with hospitals of course, but, overlying these, were strange smells that he could not place at first. The building had been a dentist’s surgery before the vampires had come, and most of the equipment they had found had been pushed into storage to make way for the beds and operating tables they needed. It would have been far easier to use one of the city’s hospitals but there had been no usable living facilities near either of the two, so the council had decided to move what they needed to this surgery.

  It was still a major worry for the small community to spread themselves too far. If they were discovered they needed to have everything and everybody close to hand if they were to have any hope of surviving an attack. The hospital was small but sufficient for now.

  Sherman walked through the main doors and immediately noted the positions of everyone he could see. There was no receptionist; there wasn’t the need in such a small community at the moment. He could see two nurses; one was checking a list against a trolley filled with vials, bottles and tablets, while the other was hurrying from one room to another in answer to a low but incessant beeping. Neither nurse paid him any attention and he smiled. This was going to be easier than he’d thought.

  The nurse with the list picked up a number of bottles, balancing them in her arms, and then turned and disappeared into a room further down the corridor. The second nurse had still not re-appeared but the beeping had stopped so she could appear at any moment. Sherman crossed swiftly to the trolley and surveyed the jumble of pills and bottles before him. He had no idea what he was looking at. Each bottle was carefully marked, each tray of tablets noted and identified, but his knowledge of medications was by no means up to the task. Maybe it would be more difficult th
an he thought after all.

  “Can I help you?” He turned so quickly towards the voice that he startled the nurse and she almost dropped the papers she was carrying.

  “I’m sorry.” Sherman smiled a wide and disarming smile that immediately put the girl at ease. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he continued and dropped his eyes to the floor as if embarrassed. The girl was no more than nineteen or twenty. She was very pretty with dark features, soulful eyes and a jumble of auburn hair tied into a bun under a small white headdress. Pity she wasn’t a bit younger, Sherman thought as he noted the girl’s body under her clean-pressed uniform.

  “I’m looking for my boss. Steele. He came in earlier.” Sherman blushed as he brought his eyes upward to meet hers before he dropped them again. He had a lot of practice acting embarrassed and lost with women. He found that no matter how young or old, all females responded to a helpless male, and he was not disappointed this time.

  The nurse reached out and took his arm and began to lead him down the corridor. “Mister Steele is in number four. Were you with him on the raid?” she asked and he could see her interest as her eyes roved over his large frame.

  It would be so easy, he thought. If only she was younger.

  “Yes,” he answered and met her gaze for a moment as he noted her smile.

  There was a brief moment of silence between them, as if she was about to say something, and then the second nurse reappeared and the moment was gone.

  “Amanda,” the older woman snapped, “stop fraternizing and get back to work.” The older nurse didn’t even break stride as she disappeared again into another room.

  “Is she always like that?” Sherman nodded his head towards the room where the older woman had disappeared and he smiled again as he let his eyes linger.