by Derek Gunn
Of course, he could be wrong, but, as he looked out at the border between the two states, he was becoming more and more convinced that he was right. There was a huge amount of territory to cover, admittedly, but most of the attacks were within a relatively small area. He had even plotted all the attacks he knew about and had discovered a few interesting facts. Many of the attacks were centred around a relatively small area, in relation to the sheer size of the two states, and he was pretty certain he knew the area from where they must be operating.
Not with any accuracy, of course, but he was able to plot a radius of around two hundred miles stretching out from Bertrand, where he had been fairly certain that the humans were operating from. This radius just happened to include a chunk of Nero’s territory so his new theory had gained some credibility.
Then, unexpectedly, there had been another raid, but this one had been far further to the south and his theory had been shattered. At least until the patrol had found these latest tracks. This latest raid was an anomaly to every other raid so he had decided to discount it for now. If there were more raids later outside his charted radius then he could re-visit that theory. For now, though, he would run with what he had. After all, it was the very thing he would have done to draw attention elsewhere if he had been in their position.
He had to find these humans. He had seen what their bullets had done to the vampires and he had to have their secret. With those bullets he could sweep Von Kruger, and any other vampire who troubled him, into the gutter where they belonged. But where were they?
There was just no way the humans could travel huge distances with his men patrolling by day and Von Kruger’s vampires searching by night. As he had studied the map he had drawn up he had noticed that the attack that had started the war between Von Kruger and Wentworth, the attack where he himself had discovered his men’s bodies and lied about them to his superiors, was right in the middle of the circle he had plotted. He realised with a shock that he now knew who had actually attacked that small base. The humans had orchestrated the whole thing. His estimation of their abilities rose significantly as he stared at the map.
They had now rescued nearly a thousand humans from his territory, and this would only allow them to step up their attacks if he let it continue much longer. Where could they hide so many? He had no idea how many they had started with but there must be close to two thousand people at this point. He had noticed that the attacks of late had been smaller than before, as if they were fewer in number rather than greater numbers, and that puzzled him. Were they focusing their attacks in a different area now that there was so much activity here? But if that was true, why raid around here at all? He really didn’t have a handle on what drove them. He could do with pooling his information with Von Kruger and working together to wipe them out, but that was unlikely to happen anytime soon.
The latest report of the tracks along the border was interesting, though, as Bertrand was quite close to the border with Nero’s territory and it would make sense to operate from a safe haven where no one was searching for them. He had tried to contact the local thrall commander in Nero’s territory, but his men had not returned from their mission yet so he was not sure if that meant they had been killed by the thrall commander before they had gotten the opportunity to explain their mission or whether they were merely delayed. Either way he was becoming more and more certain that the humans were slipping across this border before him. There was only one way to prove it, of course, and that was to enter enemy territory and find them.
He could ill afford another war, especially with Von Kruger running rampant and his other borders filled with vampires and thralls ready and eager to press any advantage. But this was the only territory without any visible patrols. It was well known, of course, that Nero was unlike most of the other vampire lords and that he was reluctant to talk with anyone at the best of times. It could be that he was just uninterested in what was happening and would swoop on anyone entering his territory without mercy, but the lack of any patrols at all along the entire border was more than strange. Even for Nero.
He had to find these humans or risk losing everything. He badly needed their weapons but also needed to remove them as a threat. If they kept siphoning off the vampires’ food supply then he would lose his main bargaining advantage with Von Kruger. He had gathered a large force together for this excursion, just in case. It could, of course, start a war with Nero, but if they encountered Nero’s thrall army he would try to negotiate first.
He did not consider for a moment that Nero was not in control in his territory, only that his relaxed attitude gave these humans the opportunity to use his state as a safe haven. He didn’t have enough forces to spare to police the entire border on his own so he would have to enlist Nero’s thralls to help on their side of the border. He would offer them aid against their own vampire masters if they were open to that. If not, and if they fielded a large enough force to give him pause, then he could always withdraw.
The very fact that they could bring such a sizeable force to counter him in such a short time would have disproved his theory anyway and he would have to think again about where the humans might be. If they didn’t move to stop him then he would see how far he could travel into this territory before he met resistance. One way or another, he would find out whether the humans were hiding there or not. As he looked at the map he wondered where it would all end.
Chapter 9
Tanya felt as if her muscles were seizing up like an engine without oil, but she forced herself to keep moving. Her head hurt too and the moaning all around her was driving her to dementia. Everyone just stood or sat on the ground and moaned in pain and desperation - God, it was like being in a zombie movie. She hadn’t slept since her memories had flooded through her numbed brain and exhaustion plucked at her incessantly, enticing her to lie down and sleep. She needed to sleep, she knew that, her body couldn’t take this kind of abuse, but she had to find her children. There would be time to sleep once she had found them.
On one level, an insistent voice tried to raise the possibility that her children were dead. But she suppressed that thought savagely and pushed herself on. They were alive. They had to be. She had searched through over half of the enormous pen at this point and her desperation was growing with each face she passed. There were very few children at all. In fact, there were very few young adults either.
The vampires obviously liked their victims young. Her hand unconsciously dropped to her stomach and despair washed over. She faltered as the reality of her position threatened to crush her. Was she truly alone? The bastards had taken her unborn child for their unholy thirsts. Had they taken her children as well? She stopped as the grief became too much. Many of those around her had already given up and either stood staring sightlessly ahead or sat on the ground and cried. She felt her knees weaken. It would be so easy to rest, just for a moment.
Surely it wouldn’t matter if she just had a little rest. She felt herself weakening, her legs did ache so and her back was burning with strain. Her knees began to buckle but then her children’s faces suddenly danced before her and she ignored the pain and forced herself on. She could see them in her mind from a happier time before the vampires had come. Her stomach felt empty, and not just from hunger. There was an emptiness within her that she just knew would always be there. They had taken a part of her, ripped it from her and left behind an empty shell. Well, not completely empty, she suddenly realised. A fire smouldered within her, a small kernel of hate that had kept her going up till now. She stoked the fire with her hatred for the vampires and forced one foot in front of the other pushing those in front of her away as she continued her search.
She would find her children and then, somehow, she would make the vampires pay. Somehow. She searched all day, ignoring the food that was sent into the pen as she examined every face in the sea of people, hoping to see someone she knew, anyone who might have seen her children. But she found no one. Finally, as darkness began to crawl
across the horizon, she slumped to the ground at the far end of the pen. At first she didn’t feel anything, just relief that she had stopped walking, but it wasn’t long before her despair overpowered her.
A sob escaped from her and she could feel a tear drop from her eye and roll slowly down her cheek. It was all too much; they had taken too much from her. She had spent the day feeding the fire within her with hate and hope and despair in equal measure, but now she was exhausted. Her hope was shattered and hate could only take you so far. Despair now ruled and swept over her like a giant wave. Great sobs racked through her body and she looked out at a cityscape that had once been so familiar and was now so alien. In the day’s final gasp, as the last shafts of light were chased away by the oncoming gloom, she saw the shadows envelope another pen some distance away. It was like watching the huge enclosure fall into a hole as the darkness swept over it in a slow, ineluctable march.
The people in that pen all stood gazing sightlessly ahead and at some level she noted that they, unlike the people in her pen, were still controlled by the serum. She didn’t wonder at this, she was far too tired, but she did notice it. Just then, as the last of the people were swallowed by the dark and it began to crawl toward her, she saw a small face surrounded by a mass of red curls. The face was dirty and the hair was limp and matted, but her heart stopped beating as soon as she saw it. She only had a fleeting moment and then the darkness descended. But it had been enough. She’d know her child in any circumstance. Jillian was alive. Hope flared within her. She did not consider that an army of vampires and thralls lay between them or that there was no hope of a reunion. All she thought about was that her little girl was alive. If she was alive then it was possible that Mark was with her. The fire in her belly began to rekindle as hope flared and kept her warm. She slumped to the ground in exhaustion and felt the tears flood down her cheeks.
There were many who cried that night in that lonely prison but no others cried tears of joy. She finally slept.
Ian Phelps cursed as he looked around the storeroom.
“Is everything ruined?” he asked as he kicked at an empty box on the floor but felt no pleasure as it hit the wall and bounced off.
“I’m afraid so.” Lucy Irvine shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “How could someone do this? I just don’t understand.” A small sob escaped her as she looked at the ruined food in the room.
“Are you sure it wasn’t accidental?” Penny Arkwright asked from the doorway. “I mean…” she began but faltered as the rest of the committee members turned toward her.
Father Reilly placed a hand on her shoulder and sighed. “I’m afraid there’s little doubt about it. Someone did this deliberately.” He knelt down and picked up a water-soaked packet of rice and let the ruined parcel fall back onto the wet floor. He paused for a moment as he considered what he was about to say and then shrugged. “I’m afraid I have to admit that this is not entirely unexpected.”
Reilly watched the faces of those around him for any hint that what he was saying was not a complete shock, but the committee members were so spread out inside the room that it was impossible to watch them all at the same time.
“What do you mean?” Phil Regan spluttered. “Are you suggesting that you knew of this and did nothing?”
“No,” Reilly answered emphatically, “I did not know that this would happen, destroying our food affects our culprit as much as it does ourselves. Either they are more desperate than we thought or…”
“What are you talking about? What culprit?” Phelps crossed to him and stood there, his face growing red with anger. “What exactly is going on? And when you say ‘we’ who exactly are you talking about?”
Reilly paused for a moment before answering as he considered the implications. He knew what their reaction was going to be, after all they had kept this information from the democratically elected government, but he really had no choice after this latest development. He took a deep breath. “Harris…”
“I knew it,” Phelps spat the words as he turned toward the other members of the committee. The water pooling around his feet splashed with the sudden motion and sent ripples outward. “I knew he had…”
“Before you finish that sentence you will listen to what I have to say,” Reilly interrupted with a voice long accustomed to authority and respect. “You might be glad you didn’t say something that you can’t take back later.” Reilly stared hard at Phelps, as if daring him - which of course he was - and Phelps managed to stare back for almost thirty seconds before he dropped his gaze.
“I’ll listen, Father,” his tone was unmistakably derisive, “but then we will have to discuss your reluctance to share important information with this committee.”
Reilly nodded, he knew that Phelps had a good point and one which would take some impact away from what he was about to say, but this latest development had forced his hand. They had not had enough food to feed the community before this disaster and the food in this room was almost a quarter of their entire remaining stock. With winter gripping them so hard and crops some months yet from yielding anything, they were in real trouble.
“When Steele returned he may well have been turned as a vampire but his will was such that he had not come to kill us.” Phelps snorted and Reilly glared hard at him before continuing. “As you may have noticed, he did come alone.” He paused as he searched out each person’s eyes and spent a few seconds on each one before moving on. “Did no one think it strange that we haven’t been overrun by vampires by now?”
He could see by their reaction that few of them had really given it much thought at all.
“Steele came to warn us,” he continued. “The thirst was driving him mad but he held onto what was left of his humanity long enough to save April from that monster, Sherman, and to tell us some disturbing news before he took his life.” Reilly could tell that he had everyone’s interest but he forced himself to pause again. It was critical that these people believed him and took what he had to say seriously.
“Steele did not tell Von Richelieu of our existence. He knew already.” Reilly paused as he let the impact of his statement sink in. “Someone in this community had been passing information back to him long before Harris sent Steele on his mission. It is my belief that that person is responsible for this atrocity.”
“That’s farcical,” Phelps snapped. “If the vampires knew where we were, they would crush us. Why would they leave us here while we grew in numbers?”
“To be honest, I have no idea,” Reilly admitted. “That’s one of the reasons we did not tell anyone. Harris…”
“It’s always comes back to Harris, doesn’t it?” Phelps interrupted again. “My God, that man is always in the thick of it, ruining it for everyone else.”
“That is enough of that.” Phelps stopped as if slapped and Phil Regan moved to the centre of the room. Everyone was shocked that Regan would interrupt his own man. Everyone in the room was aware that Phelps was quickly growing out from Regan’s shadow but Regan was still leader of the community and had the final say on everything. For now, anyway.
“Father,” Regan began as the small room seemed to press in on them all. “We have not always agreed on things, but what you have said is very worrying. I have kept my own council about a number of matters recently as, I must admit, the sheer impossibility of our position here has overwhelmed me. I do not hold Peter Harris in the esteem that you do, but I also did not wish him ill. His banishment was based on the fact that he had made our position more precarious by telling the vampires we were here. If this is not the case, why then did he not offer this information at the time?”
“He did not feel that he would be believed in light of Steele’s presence in the community and the raw emotion of the night.” Reilly paused as Regan had the good grace to drop his eyes. “Besides,” Reilly continued, “keeping the knowledge that we had a traitor in the community was our only way of trying find out who they were and what their agenda might be.” Reilly paused again as he
swept the faces of the others. “He was prepared to be sent away in order to try and make the traitor more confident in the hope that they might slip up.”
There was a silence in the room that made them all uncomfortable.
“But why would the vampires leave us here to grow in strength? That makes no sense,” Phelps insisted as he tried to regain some momentum.
“We don’t know,” admitted Reilly with a sigh, “but it would seem that Von Richelieu had known about us for some time and is happy to let us scratch out a living as long as we don’t threaten him directly. But he must have an agenda, and our hope was that, if we found who it was who passing information to him, we might be able to figure it out. He must need us for something.”
“But how could anyone pass information to such monsters?” Lucy Irvine shuddered as she spoke.
“We don’t know, I’m afraid we don’t even know how the information even gets to him at this time.”
“No.” Lucy shook her head violently. “I mean how could they? This bastard has signed all our death warrants. Who could do such a thing and why?” Everyone was stunned into silence. Lucy Irvine was a quiet woman, hard as a rock but quiet nonetheless. And she never cursed.
“I imagine the why is easily answered: they obviously feel that the promised reward, whatever it might be, outweighs any moral objection.” Reilly scanned the faces in front of him.
“But who could do that? We have children here.” Regan was white with shock.
“Well,” Father Reilly looking uncomfortable as, for the first time, he was unable to look into the eyes of the person he spoke to, “we had thought that it might be you.”
“My God, Father,” Regan spluttered as his face grew red, but not from anger. He was visibly shaken. “I am not a monster. I will admit to opinionated, crude and even selfish, but this is…unthinkable.”
