Vampire Apocalypse: Fallout (Book 3)

by Derek Gunn

  He had been speechless. To banish anyone from the community was like serving them a death sentence. If Steele had not killed Sherman earlier that day, Harris would not even have sought such punishment for him, and he was guilty of cold-blooded murder. He had expected censure, of course, even some form of punishment for disobeying the council. After all, if everyone broke the rules then the council could not maintain order. He understood this, but banishment had been unthinkable. As he lay in wait for the patrol to reach the point of ambush, thoughts of that night flooded his mind and he was carried back to the auditorium where the meeting had taken place.

  Chapter 4

  The atmosphere in the auditorium was electric. Harris could sense emotions running high as soon as he entered the room. Phelps already stood on the platform like a warm-up act busy whipping the audience into a frenzy in preparation for the main event. Only this time the main event was deadly serious. Only an hour ago they had been shocked when Steele had returned to them as a vampire, and Harris was still reeling from the implications.

  Had Steele merely been the vanguard? Could they now expect a full invasion of thralls and vampires on their small community? Harris had been informed of the meeting as he had led April back to her room. The poor girl had been almost inconsolable about losing Steele, and Harris had wanted to stay with her, but he assumed that this meeting was to plan their defence in light of the night’s disclosure and that was of paramount importance. He had still been reeling from Steele’s revelation that Von Richelieu already knew of the community’s existence and that they had a traitor amongst them. He had briefly considered whether Steele may have been trying to set the humans against one another in an attempt to destabilise any resistance they might offer, but Steele’s selfless act in taking his own life had proved to Harris that his friend had told them the truth.

  Harris had been shocked when he had reached the auditorium only to find a room filled with former colleagues all shouting and pointing in anger at him as he entered the room. He was dimly aware that Phelps was orchestrating it all from the platform but his actual words were drowned out by the roar of the crowd as Harris came into view. Harris had experienced many different reactions from people since they had discovered that he had sent Steele to warn the vampires of the serum’s lethal payload, but he had never felt such raw emotion as he had that night. The wave of anger hit him like a physical blow and he was forced to stop in confusion and wonder if he had somehow entered the wrong room.

  He scanned the crowd who had turned up for the meeting and realised with a sudden sadness that he did not know most of them. Some of their faces were familiar from the many rescues he had led, but he had never had the time to get to know these people. Many of them were already so caught up with their own survival and their own problems that they had already forgotten the sacrifices that had been made to free them. It was obvious from their anger that they had already forgotten the people who had risked their lives to save them. It had been no comfort that they were obviously being manipulated by Phelps, who, even now, continued his ranting from the platform.

  Harris and his team might have saved most of the lives of those present in the room but Phelps had begun the process of undermining Harris’s position a long time ago. Harris realised with a start that his own commitment to saving others could very well be his downfall. While he and his team had been out rescuing more prisoners, Phelps had worked hard to ingratiate himself with these people and had slowly built his popularity and sown the seeds of dissention. He had merely been waiting for the right time to strike. And Harris had unwittingly provided him with the very opportunity he had been waiting for on a plate.

  Harris continued to press his way into the room as he made his way to the platform. He had never been one to avoid conflict and his own anger began to boil as he realised that Phelps had been patiently waiting for just such an occasion. How dare he? Harris thought as he pushed his way through the crowds. How dare he threaten everyone for his own petty power games. The crowd parted easily as Harris continued toward the platform. Their anger might have been directed towards him but few of them had the courage to stand in his way. His companions behind him struggled to keep up as the crowd quickly closed behind him like the tide around a rock, blocking their approach.

  But it was no consolation to Harris that these people still afforded him enough respect to move aside despite Phelps’ best attempts to make him a pariah. He had seriously underestimated Phelps. As Harris made his way through the crowd he began to realise the extent of the man’s achievement. Phelps had used the same tactics that others had used repeatedly throughout history to undermine the work of others. In France, such tactics had caused a revolution and bloody warfare among Protestants and Catholics that then spread throughout Europe in a war that had killed millions, In Germany, Hitler had swept into power on a wave of racial hatred encouraged by ruthless men with their own agendas. In ancient Rome, the empire began to crumble when elitism began to replace the old rules of citizenship. In all cases the minority had been able to sway the ignorant to their agenda by feeding and controlling their fear.

  Phelps had appealed to the community’s more base instincts and prejudices while Harris had been away. He had concentrated on the fact that the community could not support any more refugees, that everything the community had, everything they had worked for, would now have to be rationed and shared with others. He argued that their very safety was at risk with such a large influx of people and laid the blame firmly on Harris.

  Harris had been aware of what he had been doing on one level but he had not thought that such prejudices would take hold on such a young community. He had dismissed the warnings he had received from others as scaremongering and had continued to patrol and bring back more prisoners. He had been so sure that that the people would understand the need to rescue as many as they could before the serum began to kill whole populations.

  But, he had obviously been wrong. He had been wrong to ignore the advice from his friends and he had very definitely been wrong about what the community, as a whole, thought about his determination to rescue others. The wave of anger that swept over him as he walked through the crowd shocked him, and he began to falter. Just what is going on here? His steps shortened. This seemed more like a lynching than a meeting to determine the best defence of the community.

  Harris finally reached the steps of the platform and began to ascend with a growing unease.

  “Ah, here he is now.” Phelps swept his hand toward Harris with a flourish more suited to a magician than a public speaker but he had worked the crowd well and they responded with a roar of anger that staggered Harris. It took quite a few minutes for the roar to subside enough to be heard but Harris did not know how to respond to such enmity. He was shocked. Just what had Phelps been saying to turn these people into such a rabid mob? What was actually going on? There was no way they could plan their defence in such an atmosphere.

  Phelps raised his hands and the crowd suddenly quietened and, for a moment, Harris thought that the silence was in many ways worse than the clamour of before. Feelings rushed through him as he stood before the crowd. Feelings of inadequacy, confusion and deep regret mingled with his own anger at the way he was being treated, and he struggled hard to calm himself. An outburst now would be the worst thing he could do.

  “Dear friends,” Phelps began and Harris could see that most of the crowd hung on every word. “Let us not cast recriminations. What’s done is done.” The crowd surged forward and Harris felt a real fear that their anger would become uncontrollable and a riot would ensue. He saw Sandra and a few others finally push their way to the stairs of the platform and stumble their way on to the platform. Each of them was dishevelled from their struggle but unhurt, and Harris began to feel a deep worry that Phelps might have stirred the crowd too much.

  “Friends!” Phelps shouted over the noise and Harris noticed that the crowd did not quiet for him as quickly as before. There was real anger in the crowd now and
Harris looked to the others with a worried frown.

  “We are here,” Phelps shouted the first words and as the roar of the crowd finally began to reduce in volume, “to take our destiny into our hands. The time when others could recklessly threaten our survival is at an end.” The crowd cheered and Harris looked as Sandra and Father Reilly with a growing sense of unease. Father Reilly stepped forward and was about to interrupt but Harris shook his head. This wasn’t the time to contradict Phelps.

  Phelps had chosen his time well, Harris realised. He had been totally outplayed by the man and now he would have to wait and see what Phelps had planned. Harris scanned the crowd and realised with a shock that he did not recognise any of the angry protestors. He had been far too busy to get to know these people. He and his team had saved them but they had not spent any time getting to know them and he now looked out on a sea of angry strangers. How could he not have seen this coming?

  There was a scuffle from the back of the room as more people arrived and Harris recognised a few familiar faces at last, though they were far fewer than he would have liked. The fact that they were familiar did not guarantee that they would side with him, either. Maybe he had been wrong, after all. Did no one agree with him that they must do what was necessary to save as many as they could?

  “Tonight was the last straw,” Phelps continued, drawing every second of dramatic pause he could from the audience, playing them like a world-class pianist would his instrument. In fact, the only thing that took away from his performance at all was the nervous licking of his lips between statements. “I am reluctant to thrust myself to the front like this,” he paused again here and the crowd urged him on, “but someone has to stand up for the safety and good of us all.” The crowd cheered again and Harris merely stood, as if rooted in place, as the scene played out around him.

  He was helpless until he knew what Phelps was up to. Phelps had picked his time well, for the newest prisoners that had just come in were still being weaned from the serum and so were not here. Phelps was aware, of course, that their delight in being rescued would manifest itself as huge support for Harris and his team so he had chosen a time when their arrival would have the most impact on the people already in the community.

  Harris had been aware of the grumblings about having to share their meagre resources with these new arrivals, but his argument had always been that once the serum killed the rest of humanity, there would be nobody else left alive on the planet so they had to act now. Could no one else see that? These new arrivals should be seen as an important and essential addition to their growing community, not a threat to their survival.

  The rest of the committee members began to climb onto the platform and Harris sighed with some relief. At least now they would see where Phelps was going with this and maybe he would finally be able to respond.

  “Ah, our illustrious leader is here,” Phelps announced, and one look at Phil Regan’s face convinced Harris that he was as confused as Harris was as to Phelps’ intentions. That did not bode well. Patricia Lohan arrived with Regan, and she cast an angry glare at Phelps which the man missed as he turned back to the crowd, but Harris saw it and so too did Father Reilly. The two men questioned each other with their eyes but neither saw anything in the other’s expression to feel any more confident.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Regan blustered as he strode across the platform.

  “It is time, dear Leader,” Phelps answered, “to stop this man’s single-minded crusade to get us all killed.”

  “That is a matter for the committee in a closed room session and you know it, Ian,” Regan had to shout over the roars of approval from the crowd, and Harris raised his opinion of Phil Regan by a few notches. He might not like the man, he might have ideas well above his own abilities, but at least he stood up for his committee members.

  “I’m afraid we’ve gone beyond that, dear Leader,” Phelps’ words oozed sarcasm as he again licked his lips before continuing cutting off any reply Regan might have made. “We have stood quietly till now and shared everything we have all worked hard to produce. We have shared our last crumbs with the poor refugees that have been thrust upon us and we have supported the gallant work of our colleagues as they continued their relentless campaign against all the advice, and indeed, wishes of the committee and general populace.” Father Reilly was about to speak but Harris grabbed his hand and shook his head; they would have to let this play out. Interrupting now would only inflame the crowd. Phelps had, after all, only spoken the truth. Harris had disobeyed many of the committee’s orders.

  “But when it comes to telling the vampires where we live and endangering our wives’ and our children’s lives then I, reluctantly, have to step forward and say no.” The crowd cheered. “If no one else will speak out for the children then I will do so.” The crowd cheered louder.

  “This is not the forum for this, we will address this in council and we will ensure the safety of this community,” Regan insisted and made to leave.

  “No,” Phelps said simply but the word was like a brick wall to Regan, who stopped halfway across the platform.

  “What did you say?” Regan turned slowly toward his Lieutenant.

  “The time has come and gone when a simple slap on the wrist will suffice.” Phelps turned from Regan and addressed the crowd instead. “Harris has ignored every order this council has made and gone out and continued to increase the number of people in this community. While this is laudable to some extent, we simply cannot feed any more people without starving ourselves.” The crowd shouted their agreement but there were some in the crowd who did not agree. “Maybe next year, after the spring harvest, we can then go out and bring more people in. For now, we must think of our own survival.”

  “You know as well as I do that next year will be too late,” Father Reilly stepped forward, ignoring Harris’ attempt to grab him. “The serum …”

  “Yes,” Phelps interrupted, “the serum. Very convenient, that, isn’t it? We still have no proof that this serum will kill everyone as you say. With all due deference to Mister Smith, he is only a chemist and not an expert in the field by any means. He could be wrong.”

  “But …”

  “No,” Phelps interrupted again. “This is not about the serum. This is about the flagrant disregard for the safety of others; it’s about recklessly endangering this community as a whole. It’s about forcing these good people to starve through the winter, and it’s about not only telling the vampires that we exist at all, but where we live.”

  There was a shocked silence. Phelps had left that gem for last and everyone was stunned. The committee had known, of course, but it had been decided that the rest of the community should not be told that part of Harris’ plan.

  “That’s not the full story and—” Sandra Harrington stepped forward but Phelps easily cut her off.

  “You will notice she did not deny the charge.” Phelps grinned and Harris could see that he was enjoying himself. “Less than an hour ago we had a visit from a vampire - in our very home.” A muttering swept through the crowd. “They know we are here because Peter Harris told them. And do you know why?” Phelps swept the crowd with his stare and counted the seconds before speaking again. “Because Mr. Smith had determined that the very serum that is meant to kill those taking it is also killing the vampires. If he is to be believed, and again this has not been proven, all we have to do is wait till spring and this nightmare will all be over.”

  “Now wait a minute, there is more to it than that….”

  “I do not want this responsibility, but,” Phelps ignored the interruption and continued on, “if we are to die because of one man’s misguided sense of charity, then I think we should all have a say in his punishment.”

  The crowd was silent now. There had been far too much to take in. The vampires had caused so much pain and death, how could anyone want to save them? How could anyone endanger them all so recklessly? They had been annoyed with Harris at the start of the meeting b
ut this was far worse than bringing too many refugees in and forcing them to share what little they had. This was traitorous.

  Father Reilly scanned the crowd and saw nothing to give him any hope. When laid out the way Phelps had done, Harris looked like a maniacal traitor. He tried to compile an answer in his head, tried to order the words that would explain how these events had come about and how important for their survival Harris’ actions had been, but the words would not come. Phelps had said too much and had outplayed them all. He had not realised the extent of Ian Phelps’s preparation, or indeed, the hatred that drove the man.

  He did not know what to do.

  Harris recovered slowly from the shock of Phelps’ words. There was no way he could put his case across to this crowd, he could see the cold fury in all their faces. Phelps had won. It was now a matter of trying to limit the fallout.

  “We should all, as a community, be allowed to vote on what to do with such a man, and whether he should even be allowed to remain with this community.”

  My God, thought Harris, he’s serious; he wants to throw me out. Harris itched to reveal that he wasn’t the traitor. He hadn’t told the vampires where they were. He wanted to explain everything; how the serum would kill the humans and leave the vampires without food. How the vampires would be driven mad by the serum before it killed them, and how that would send them into a feeding frenzy which would leave everyone dead, including them, as the vampires tore the country apart in their desperate search for food.

  He wanted to explain how Von Richelieu had already known where they were and that they would all need to work together if they wanted to figure out why he had done nothing with the knowledge up till now. But he couldn’t find the right words. Phelps’ accusations had hit him hard. There was just enough truth in them to make Harris realise that he had been far too reckless with the community’s safety. Maybe Phelps was right. Maybe he should be sent away.