Empire of Blood [Box Set]

by Robert S. Wilson

  Toby looked at the front passenger side tire. Sure enough, a huge gash was cut along the side of it contrasted by the open rubber stretching out like a pair of solid black lips puckering for a kiss. Toby wondered which would be worse at that point, to go back inside the diner or linger in the parking lot with whoever had slashed their tires possibly still nearby.

  Chapter 15

  The First Trumpet Sounds

  They'd been expecting something big ever since Hank's face had slapped against the council table on the observation deck of the Stratosphere. But that didn't stop the sense of urgency that transferred between Ishan and Simon's minds when word came from the Foederati. The time to decide was behind them now. The Emperor had already more or less declared war.

  Standing over Hank's unconscious body in the deep tunnels of the place the vampires called "The Nest," Ishan and Simon knew it was time to leave his side and make way for the coming battle. Hank lay on the bed physically shaking with fever, his skin deathly pale. The fever had followed the operation. Isingoma had warned them it would come. In a matter of time, Hank would either sleep it off or die. The two vampires had found themselves unable to heal him any further.

  They stepped from the infirmary out into the long silver hallway side by side communicating in complete silence. If the Foederati were right, it would only be a matter of hours before the first wave of Imperial vampires arrived in Necropolis. By that time, there would only be hours left before the sun would rise. And where would they take shelter? Surely the Emperor had made provisions.

  The only choice at this point would be to follow the standard procedure they had set in place for Imperial attack. They had never truly prepared for an attack from vampires as they had never had reason to believe the Empire would be able to attack them with their own kind. Ishan and Simon both took their self-designated positions; Ishan addressed the city as a whole while Simon organized the rest of the council, scientists, and several key vampires who had been assigned military positions in situations of defense.

  When everything was set and the different vampires began clearing out of the silver planning room to execute their orders, Simon took Isingoma aside.

  "Ishan wanted me to give you private specific orders regarding Mr. Evans."

  Isingoma nodded, a sense of distracted detachment in his eyes.

  "He wants you to move him to section 12, room X-1."

  Isingoma seemed to break from his trance, his eyes widening in surprise. "X-1? What are the two of you not telling the rest of us about this man?"

  Simon only stared back, waiting.

  "I'll leave now. Forgive my disrespect."

  Simon nodded and Isingoma returned the gesture. The two went their separate ways.

  * * *

  The sky was black with cloud cover. Vampires of all colors, shapes, and sizes were arriving, a huge crowd collecting in the vast open parking lot of the large black pyramid Jackie hadn't seen since she was still human. She trudged along, sand blowing in her face. There would be a storm soon. Jackie was curious what it would be like. She hadn't experienced a sandstorm as a vampire yet.

  Standing atop a large concrete barrier, the vampire leader, Ishan, who Jackie had only met once, stood waiting to address the crowd. He shifted his eyes across the sea of standing bodies to and fro turning to speak with an older-looking man with gray hair and distinguished features. As Jackie came closer to the dense crowd of pale figures, she could tell she wasn't going to be tall enough to see over the rest of the crowd so she began slowing behind, keeping Ishan in sight. She was damn well going to watch this; Denny, one of her co-workers at the Dominion building, who'd lived in the city since before it was Necropolis, said that they had never had a city-wide urgent meeting like this before.

  Jackie's thin dark hair blew into her face as she stood waiting for Ishan to speak, the taste of hair follicles and sand making her lean over and spit. Immortality sure seemed to lose its glamour when she thought about spending eternity dealing with annoyances like these. She pulled a thin elastic band from her pocket as Ishan began to shush the crowd. Once the vampires were finally silenced, Ishan took one last gander across the waiting faces, and cleared his throat.

  "We have word from the Foederati that the Empire has initiated an attack against Necropolis." He paused and only a brief gust of sand and wind cut through the heavy silence left in the wake of his words. "Each of you have an incredibly difficult choice to make in this hour." Distant lightning struck behind him, contrasting the dark desert sky and milky clouds seemed to blend into his skin as he looked across the crowd and continued.

  "In order to protect the ancestors they will be sent along with any volunteers to the Queen's hive while those who choose to stay and volunteer to fight will help to keep their focus here. It is the only way to keep them safe."

  Another voice rose from the silence. It came from a tall man with long curly sandy blond hair. "And why not spread out and take the closest towns, take the blood we've been fenced from all this time? Why not terrorize them the way they've always expected us to?"

  “For one: we have a much more meaningful blood pact with the Foederati to keep intact. And…” His face became grim. “The Empire isn't sending humans—at least not just humans—those who are now making their way toward our city walk in darkness.“

  "Our own kind?" A voice called amongst the rising murmuring of the crowd.

  "Indeed. I bid you decide quickly, those who will be leaving have two hours to prepare. I wish I had better news to report, but it seems things are about to change and I don't expect it will be a very pleasant turn of events. Regardless of what you decide, I wish all of you well."

  The volume of the crowd rose as Ishan nodded, turned, and walked away. Jackie stood staring after him, her expression blank.

  What the hell does it matter that it's vampires coming, why stay and fight when we can run. Jackie made up her mind right then that she would volunteer to go with the ancestors. As much as the creatures repulsed her, she'd rather go with them than stay in this god awful place and die.

  * * *

  Every human-paced step gnawed at Isingoma's nerves like rusty wire scraping against teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was transfer this human piece of meat into the city's most secret protected holding area. He pushed the mobile stretcher along the silver hallway deep within the lowest level of The Nest.

  When he came to the titanium door, Isingoma pulled Hank's stretcher aside and entered the code key. A loud deep rumbling occurred within and the door unlatched and then slid open as gracefully as a two-ton titanium door can slide. Muttering under his breath about all the work he'd done to remove the implants from Hank's eye sockets and ear canal, Isingoma begrudgingly pushed the man's stretcher into room X-1.

  He was about to turn and leave when Hank's hand reached out and gripped hold of his wrist. Isingoma turned and looked back at the man. Hank was sitting up staring blindly in front of himself, yet he'd managed to reach out and grab Isingoma with complete accuracy. Hank's eyes opened revealing only milky white orbs curtained by reddish purple lids.

  "There's not much time. The vampires are not the true threat to this city. Flames. Engulfing The Nest. Necropolis burning. Ishan must be warned." Hank was on his feet before Isingoma could react. The words he had spoken were still processing in the vampire's mind when he realized Hank was gone. Was it true? Would the Empire set fire to the city? It would certainly do the job. But how could Hank have known?

  Chapter 16

  City in Flames

  Wind blew through Hank's hair as he ran. Everything before him was a mix of blur and darkness. He wasn't even sure how he knew where to go—where to step and where not to—but somehow he just knew. The image of Necropolis burning, its flames lighting up the sky, had been playing in Hank's mind from the moment he'd woke up in that stretcher.

  A warm gust of air hit Hank as he exited the main tunnel entrance of The Nest. Gravel crunched under his feet as he continued to run. Ishan was curr
ently on his way back to the Stratosphere from having made his announcement to the city. So much information was entering Hank's awareness, he worried that if he could see, it would probably overload his brain.

  Many vampires were leaving the city to protect the ancestors from attack. This was a good thing, Hank knew. But those who were planning on staying behind were making a mistake. Ishan included. The Emperor's army of vampires were sent only to keep the city busy so that when the dawn came, they would surely retreat within the city and be left vulnerable.

  Whatever sense that was guiding Hank now, he wasn't sure, but it was almost like a sort of inner vision. He could see a vague sort of outline of everything around him in a 3-dimensional panoramic view. Having only ever seen with two eyes, the new perspective was overwhelming. He was again thankful he wasn't actually seeing this physically. Running up Las Vegas Boulevard, he could sense Ishan's presence up ahead of him. A sort of infrared radiance shone from what Hank knew to be Ishan's body.

  "Ishan," Hank yelled, still running toward him.

  The radiance seemed to change as Ishan turned to look in Hank's direction.

  "Hank?" Ishan's lips mouthed.

  Hank slowed his speed until he was standing just before Ishan.

  "We have to go. The city isn't safe."

  Ishan opened his mouth to speak, but Hank cut him off. "The vampires are only a diversion. The Emperor has other plans. He's going to burn down the city when the dawn comes." Hank couldn't even hear his own voice, but he could practically see the words with that same inner vision that seemed to be showing him everything around him and more.

  "How do you know?" Ishan's words bubbled out from his mouth. They weren't even written words, they came out as physical objects—vivid geometrical shapes that had depth to them very much like flesh and bone but different somehow.

  "I just know. Something happened to me. I'm seeing things I can't possibly be seeing. Things now and things that haven't happened yet. But I know they will. I'm not sure how, but I know."

  Ishan's radiant form stood there for a moment taking in what Hank had said.

  "Then the time for action is now. If the Emperor wants to see this city burn then let's give him what he wants." Ishan turned and shouted toward the glass doors underneath the huge awning of the base of the hotel, "Boris, there's been a change in plans. Initiate evacuation orders at once!"

  Within seconds a multitude of vampires came pouring from the row of glass doors of the Stratosphere.

  * * *

  Simon had been watching and listening to Hank and Ishan's conversation the entire time through the psychic link that connected him to the master vampire. In mere seconds the two had contemplated what to do next. It was Simon's idea to leave the city burning. The bitter spite in him wanted to see the Emperor's face when he found out what they had done.

  Time to make this candle burn.

  Simon made his way from the makeshift strategy room within The Nest along the silver hallways toward Section 11, the main storage facilities for goods and supplies. It would take a lot of fuel to make this whole city go up in flames. Simon only hoped they had enough.

  As he entered the hallway for Section 11, the announcement went over the intercom.

  The order for evacuation has been made. All citizens are to leave at once. The choice is yours as to where you go, but it is recommended that all citizens make way for the Queen's hive in New Orleans.

  Accessing Ishan's memory, Simon was able to determine that the fuel storage room was in door 14. When he came to the right one, he wasted no time in entering the code key, releasing the wide titanium door with a deafening boom. A mix of volatile fumes wafted out from within the room. Simon opened the door and went inside.

  * * *

  It had taken him two nights to catch up to them, but catch up to them he had. Jack watched from the roof of the diner as Cayne and the boy huddled and whispered beside the SUV. With all the chaos in the area, Draper was less inclined to follow his master's instructions to the letter. He much more wanted to watch the two of them run as he chased after them.

  The boy would give good chase at his age being in good shape, but the man would not last long. And after killing Cayne, he would instill that much more fear and determination in his target.

  Cayne began rummaging through the back of the truck pulling several bags and a handgun from inside the hatch. Jack rose then, standing directly over them and out of sight. He stepped off the edge of the building and landed with a loud metal crunch on the ceiling of the SUV, only slightly denting in the thin tan metal. The man and the child jumped at the sight of it. Draper grinned down at them unable to contain his glee.

  A second later and Cayne was firing the handgun and Jack had to laugh at the attempt. Several bullets pierced Jack's chest, one of them right in his long-dead heart. Jack smiled down at them as his flesh healed and his body ejected the bullets. They fell out onto the roof of the building bouncing off the thin metal with a dull thud and scattered down onto the parking lot.

  The two turned and fled like rabbits, the boy constantly looking back with a face contorted with desperation. Jack waited a moment before he took flight. Then once they had a good 500 feet on him, he jumped forward from the truck, landing gracefully on the pavement, his legs easing into a casual walk.

  “Yes, run. Let’s see how far you can get.”

  Up ahead, the boy was making some good distance into a field beyond the parking lot of the diner while his older friend was slowing and coughing near the edge of the blacktop. Jack had underestimated just how much younger and more in shape the boy was and gritted his teeth at the thought that he would either not be able to carry out his initial plan. Or in order to still pull it off he would need to let the boy gain more ground. Maybe even give them the impression that he had let them go.

  Let them go? This idea appealed to his sense of play. He’d already made up his mind and moved in an imperceptible flash, hiding behind a large tree just to the right of Cayne and outside of the boy’s general vantage point. It took some time, but eventually the boy slowed until finally he stood leaning against a tree, breathing heavily, and staring in the direction of the diner obviously looking for any sign of Jack. Draper’s eyes lit up at the sight of the pawns moving with more accommodation to his new strategy.

  When neither of his prey were looking, Jack blasted up into the tree gently enough to keep its branches from shaking yet swiftly enough to not be visible to the human eye. He watched as the adult dragged his feet in the direction of the child. Draper reminded himself not to underestimate the man Cayne. Hank Evans likely hadn’t escaped from Necropolis without some sense of strategy or good sense. What Cayne lacked in physical fitness he likely made up for in loyalty and pure fight.

  Jack watched and waited as Cayne finally caught up with the boy and the two stood there glancing around in all directions looking for him. After a long while they finally seemed to let their guard down and began making their way north toward a distant highway. Judging from the sound of shallow rushing water and the view, they would have to cross several miles of woods and creeks to get there. As they slipped into the darkness of the trees, Jack made his way quietly down to the ground and began following at a human pace.

  He almost choked with laughter when the thought came to him that he'd better not wait too long or, with all the noise that they were making, they might end up becoming some other predator's meal. Rustling through leaves, snapping twigs, and whispering loud enough they might as well have been speaking aloud, Toby and Cayne were obviously not the most experienced in stealth. Jack, however, was. He flung from tree to tree without making the slightest sound. Barely causing each tree to so much as shiver with his weight as he swung along to the next one. He was directly above them now, watching with amusement as they tripped and stumbled along the pathless woods.

  Jack’s grin dripped venom as he stood looking down at them atop a thin branch. The boy’s precious youthful skin was visible in the pale moonlight. T
he smell of his blood crept into Jack’s mind with welcome lust. His thirst overpowered his sense of play then and he stepped off the branch. A gush of exquisite air rushed up his body as he rocketed toward the ground landing cat-like in front of his prey. With his knee high in front of him and his other leg ready to launch him forward, he sneered up at the two humans in order to give them that last moment’s realization.

  Jack blasted forward like a shotgun shell at Cayne, claws first, fangs extended. A blurring projectile caught his attention far too late and before he could understand just what was going on, he saw a man far behind Toby and Cayne holding up what appeared to be a crossbow and then the sky rolled over him and his body struck the ground. For a split second he gasped for air, the old human reflex convincing him he’d knocked the air from his lungs until he remembered he hadn’t needed to really breathe for nearly 500 years now.

  A sharp heavy sting from his chest caught his attention. He looked down to find a glint of silver piercing his body, surrounded by a pool of blood. His cackling laughter echoed off of the trees. Toby and Cayne stared in awe as a man dressed in black pants, a solid black shirt and an even blacker trench coat dragging nearly down to his ankles walked up between them and holstered the long crossbow inside his coat. The man had long dirty black and brown dreadlocks hanging at random around his shoulders clear down to his waist. Underneath a thick black mustache, he smiled down at Jack and winked.

  This made Jack only laugh louder and harder. “A fucking stake? Seriously? What do you think I am, sodding Dracula?” With that his laughter brought him near to tears.

  “Keep laughing, motherfucker. You won’t find it so goddamn funny when I crank up the blood absorption.”

  Jack’s laughter dove, faltered, and died. He looked down at the silver device pinning him to the ground again. A red LED flashed back at him from it. He felt that cold sweat that always came with a loss of blood. This silver device was draining him. And fast.