by Derek Gunn
He would have to respond to this attack. Something that would strike into Von Kruger’s power base as effectively as this attack had done to him. A sudden idea came to him and he leaned forward to the Sergeant with a cold grin on his face. There was only one thing that the vampires needed above all else. Humans. He would show Von Kruger the consequences of such an attack if he had to kill every last human in his territory.
Von Kruger listened to the report with growing unease. His meeting with Carter had not gone as he had planned. His anger had consumed him as he had spoken with the human. In fact, it was all he had been able to do to force himself to leave before he tore the human apart. Not that that would be so terrible, but it did not suit him to have a war with the thralls at this time. He had to find and destroy the humans first. Their weaponry was far too dangerous to allow anyone else to control it. He would handle the thralls when it suited him.
He still didn’t know why his control of his temper was so tenuous lately. He knew he had always been hot-headed, but this was something different. He had lost himself to the violence against Wentworth. He could not now recall a single coherent thought from that whole debacle. That had never happened to him before and his loss of control, while it had worked in his favour that time, left him worried that the next time he might not be so lucky. He had survived for hundreds of years through guile and cunning. There was no way he could survive the coming battles if he continued to lose himself to his anger.
And now Carter and a sizable force had packed themselves into a helicopter and flown north in a hurry. The thralls had not used the flying machines since the war had ended. There were just too costly to keep in the air. Why use them now? What was most worrying was that they had travelled while it had still been dark. Why would he take such a risk? Was Carter so confident that he did not consider the vampires a threat, even at night? No, he answered his own question, Carter was no fool. If something had forced him to fly north by night, then it was something that was worth taking such a personal risk.
The humans! The thought jumped into his mind. He must have found the humans. Did he know of their weaponry? That would certainly explain the mad risk he was taking in using the helicopters at night. If he gained control of the humans’ weaponry…he had to stop him. He surged to his feet and called for his aides. He would have to gather his forces and head north. It was too late now to travel with the sun already rising; but they could prepare. They must be ready to move as soon as the light began to fail. If he was lucky, it would be a cloudy day and they could leave before dusk.
“His name is Trevor Atkins.”
“My God.” Harris suddenly recalled the heart-breaking walks with one of the young boys in the community as they had walked the long line of dead bodies from the train after the last rescue. The thralls hadn’t cared where their bullets had gone and some of their shots had torn through the tightly packed prisoners in the rail cars. Sometimes a bullet had ripped through a number of bodies before finally lodging in some poor unfortunate’s flesh.
The young boy, Peter, he now recalled his name, had handled it all stoically, but Harris had felt for the boy. None of the faces they had examined had been peaceful in death. It was too much for anyone to go through, especially a young boy of eleven. They hadn’t found his family and Harris hadn’t been too sure if that had been the best result. If they had found them, at least the boy would have been able to grieve and then move on. Could this possibly be…?
Sandra looked over at him with a quizzical frown.
“We have a boy, Peter, back at…”
“Peter.” The man suddenly became agitated. His eyes were still unfocused like many of those in serum withdrawal, but the name had certainly sparked a memory in the man. “Peter,” he repeated and then began to trail away.
“Yes.” Harris knelt beside the man. “We have a Peter Atkins in camp. Brown hair, eleven years old, blue eyes…” Harris tried to recall something more but the man suddenly snapped out a hand and gripped his arm tightly.
“Peter is alive.” Tears began to stream down his glazed eyes. “Thank God. Is he here?”
“No, but he’s safe,” Harris replied. “We’ll take you to him. We’re on our way there now.”
“No.” The man suddenly grew frantic. “We have to go back. The plant…” He trailed off again as the serum fought for control again.
“What about the plant?” Harris felt a cold fist grip his heart. Was the man rambling or was there a real problem with the nuclear plant? The man still wore a white lab coat, though it was caked with mud. It was a very real possibility that he had worked in the plant, though what he was doing in the food cage was beyond him.
Atkins seemed to ignore him for a maddeningly long time, and then he suddenly spoke again. “The coolant needs to be brought online. Warren doesn’t know…” He trailed off again,
“What doesn’t Warren know, Trevor? What are you saying?” Harris felt the fear spread through him.
“Procedures aren’t enough. Plant will blow if…” Atkins suddenly slumped forward, exhausted from the fight against the serum.
Harris sighed and squeezed the man’s arm gently as he rose to face the others who had gathered around him. At least those who were not too badly injured.
“We can’t ignore this,” he began as he scanned the faces in front of him. “Too many are injured for us all to go back, so we’ll have to split up.”
“No,” Sandra said firmly, already knowing what was about to happen.
“Sandra, we have no choice,” Harris insisted.
“Jackson, Ricks and Franklin are just too badly injured and will only slow us down.”
“What do you hope to achieve?” Denis Jackson asked from behind the gathered crowd. There was a thick bandage around the man’s head but he was still too dizzy to stand up.
“What do you mean?” Harris asked.
“Are you just going to walk up to the thralls and ask them to let you go in and stop the plant from exploding?”
Harris stopped for a minute as he considered the question. It was certainly valid. The thralls would probably just shoot him before he got the chance to open his mouth.
“We can’t ignore the possibility…” Harris began but Jackson interrupted before he could complete his sentence.
“Of course we can,” Jackson winced as he tried to get to his feet. “We have no way of knowing if this guy is a technician or merely some sad fool with an overactive imagination.”
“But if the plant blows …”
“Yeah. If it blows then the thralls have no power. Big deal. What’s the big problem? We’re far enough away…”
“No.” The word was spoken quietly but everyone stopped and looked over toward Ricks who lay on the ground with bandages covering most of his body. The boy was pasty, his skin almost translucent, and his voice was weak, but there was a firm tone that commanded everyone’s attention. “The fallout would spread out to us in a matter of weeks. It would poison the crops, the water…” he paused as took a shuddering breath. “We can’t let the plant blow,” he managed and then fell into an exhausted sleep.
Everyone remained silent for a time as Rick’s message hit home.
“I still don’t see what you can do.” Jackson shrugged. “But I’m willing to go with you anyway.”
“Oh no you’re not, Denis Jackson,” Delilah interrupted. “And how exactly do you intend to help if you can’t even walk?” She looked over at Sandra for support and Sandra nodded her agreement.
“But I can…”
“You can sit there and keep quiet while we discuss our plans,” Delilah snapped and then turned back to Harris. “I, of course, will come with you. I’m one of the few who didn’t just stand in the line of fire like Butch Cassidy over there.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Jackson fumbled to his feet and then swayed dangerously for a moment before grabbing onto a nearby rock to steady himself. “If I can’t go, then neither can you.”
Harris actually managed a s
mile as he looked at Delilah’s flushed face and held up his hand to cut off her reply before the fight really got heated. “Thank you, Delilah,” he began, “but I can’t use you. I need to move quickly and only have room for three others. I need Warkowski to cover our backs. Warnback and Mendez both have experience in military manoeuvres.” He looked at her and shrugged apologetically. He had hoped his reasoning would take the sting out of the rejection and, to her credit; she didn’t pursue it any further. She merely moved over to Jackson and helped him back to a sitting position. Neither said a word to the other but her gentle touch while she helped him get comfortable spoke volumes.
“It always has to be you, doesn’t it?” Sandra had come up behind him. She kept her voice low so their conversation remained private.
Harris looked at her and wanted to reach out, to explain why it always had to be him. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t find the words.
“I’m sorry,” he finally managed.
“So am I,” she replied sadly and moved off toward Ricks to check on him. Harris was left staring at her as the other three came up behind him with their packs already on their backs.
“Okay,” he said as he tore his eyes away from the back of Sandra’s head. “Two of you grab the stretcher,” he indicated the sleeping form of Trevor Atkins. “We’ll take turns along the way.”
Damn him, Sandra Harrington thought as she changed the bandages on Ricks’ shoulder. She forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing and not to look around at Harris. She had been forced to say goodbye so many times that she couldn’t face another one. It just wasn’t fair. And now he was off to stop a nuclear plant from exploding, regardless of the thirty thralls that guarded the place. What was he thinking? She felt annoyed, betrayed and embarrassed for feeling that way all at the same time.
Of course, with Harris and the others gone, that left those who remained with a huge problem. There was only April, Joshua and Delilah to carry three injured men back to the cave. There weren’t enough of them to carry three stretchers, so one of the injured would have to walk. Harris just didn’t consider those details; she fumed as she tied off the bandage. Well, Ricks certainly wouldn’t be walking anywhere for a while and Ben Franklin was too weak. In any case, the bullet lodged in his shoulder would grate too much if he walked. So that left Jackson. A man who couldn’t even stand straight without holding on to something for support. And he had volunteered to go back to the plant. “Men,” she cursed under her breath. ‘Heroes and lovers’. She had read that somewhere. She thought for a few moments but couldn’t recall where. Whoever wrote it had the right idea, though. That was all they were good for.
She turned back to the camp and looked at those who remained. They all looked to her for guidance, and for some reason their expectant faces made her angry. Why couldn’t they think for themselves? Why can’t someone else take charge? She thought bitterly and then suddenly stopped. My God! Is this how Peter feels?
She looked to where Harris and the others were already reduced to small specs in the distance. Maybe she had been too harsh, she realised. She wished she had at least said goodbye. She looked back to the others and sighed. God, please keep him safe, she prayed and then took a deep breath.
“Okay, people, let’s get moving. We’ve a long way to go.”
“How long do we have to carry the bugger?” Al Warnback complained as the pain in his arms grew worse.
“Until he’s able to walk by himself.” Harris smiled as he took a reading and altered their direction slightly. Warnback sneered at him in reply and continued to mutter to himself.
Harris ignored him. He was still wondering whether using the truck they had abandoned was worth the risk. It was too bright for vampires at this hour, but what about the thralls? It was probably fair to assume that anyone going to the site of the spill was already there or would use the main roads. If they kept to the dirt tracks they would only have to worry about the dust they threw into the air. That, however, was a major consideration. The dust trail would be seen for miles and would announce their presence as surely as writing their intention in the sky.
But it would save them over six hours walk, more if Atkins remained too weak to walk. Of course, it was possible that the thralls would assume that the trail was from a thrall patrol. After all, what kind of madman would come back to the plant after causing a nuclear waste spill? If they only used the truck until they got to within five miles of the plant then they could travel the rest of the way on foot. He considered that for a moment. Was he pandering to his own sore feet and the complaints of his men, or did that actually make sense?
Fuck it, he thought. If we don’t get there in time then it won’t matter either way.
Chapter 21
Tanya felt light-headed as the blood continued to pump from her veins. The container on the shelf was only half full but already she felt tired and lethargic. God, if they take that much there’s no way I’ll be able to walk, let alone run from here, she realised bitterly. The whole plan was dependant on her being able to get away from her guard; either while he was trying to violate her or while he was spent afterwards. Either way she would have to be able to run. There just wasn’t time for her to recover her strength. “Shit,” she muttered as she tried to think of some way to reduce the amount of blood they took. She had to create a diversion of…
Suddenly the door slammed open and the feeble light of dawn pushed against the gloom of the interior but made little headway into the room. She saw a tall figure silhouetted in the doorway but couldn’t see clearly who it was. It didn’t matter; she took her chance. She pulled the tubes from her arm as the thrall guard was distracted and stifled a cry as the metal tore from her flesh. Immediately she began to bleed onto the floor but she tore at her shirt and wrapped it tightly around the wound. Not perfect but it would do for now. She risked a glance over the cubicle wall and saw the thrall guard walk uncertainly toward the figure, voicing a question as he walked.
The figure suddenly shifted from the doorway to a position beside the thrall in a blink of an eye. A vampire, she thought just before the creature reached over and wrenched the thrall’s head sharply to the left and a loud crack filled the small room.
The vampire looked over at her and she felt fear overwhelm her. Were they mad? To have thought they could actually take on these creatures. He had moved so fast. Even the thrall didn’t have a chance.
“If you’re going to run, then you’d better get a move on.” The vampire smiled and then simply moved to the door and disappeared out into the brightening sky. The dark clouds kept the deadly sunlight at bay, but the vampire still moved quickly and suddenly she was alone. It took her a few seconds to realise that, for some reason, a vampire had given her the opportunity and the time she had so desperately prayed for. She had no idea why. There must be some in-fighting between the vampires. Not that it mattered, one master was as bad as another. Either way, she had her chance and was determined to grab it with both hands.
She rushed toward the others and ripped the tubes form the first two and shook them awake, instructing them to free the others and make their way out. They would all meet up later, miles from here if all went well. She looked back at the slowly moving pair she had freed and despaired. They were so slow. She almost turned back but she forced herself to stop. She had done all she could for them. It was up to them if they wanted to survive. Her children were depending on her and she would not let them down. She turned and wrenched the door open. A blast of cold air hit her and wiped away the last of the cobwebs in her head. Snow had begun to fall and the flakes seemed somehow strange in their brightness against the dark of the clouds above her.
Help from a vampire and snow in California in spring. What’s next? she wondered as she began to run. Maybe Santa Claus will sweep down and rescue us all.
The hour before dawn was a good time for an escape. The vampires were about to retire and the thralls tended to relax as their masters disappeared for the daylight hours. In t
his weather, too, they tended to gravitate to the warmth of their quarters and left the patrolling to those stupid enough to remain on station, which, luckily in this case, were few and far between. She made it to her former cage without seeing one thrall and quickly pulled at the door. Some of the people inside noticed her and began to shout for her to hurry. They were making far too much noise in their excitement and she could see Josh Harris and a number of others desperately trying to keep them quiet as she worked.
The gate was locked and a huge lock bulged in the centre. There was no way she could prise it off, even if she had a bar of some sort. She would have to find the key. She turned and ran back toward the nearest guardhouse. Many of the people in the cage thought she was leaving for good and began to cry out, cursing and begging her to return in the same breath. She was still twenty feet from the guard station when the door of the barracks was wrenched open and a thrall stomped out into the cold. She dived to the side and only barely managed to hide behind a barrel spewing smoke into the air. This was one of the many such barrels that were provided for the patrols that were meant to be on station to keep them warm. She bit down on her lip and stifled a scream as her back grazed the heated barrel and her skin puckered where the heat seared her.
The guard strode right past her, hunched against the weather and cursing the humans as he made his way toward the cage. Tanya glanced back toward the guardhouse but someone had already closed the door to keep the cold out. She pulled herself to her feet. She hoped that the guard at the cage had a key or the whole thing would have been for nothing. She saw something lying in the dirt around the barrel and she took a moment to examine it more closely.
