When he was done mourning for his past life, George sifted through the ashes and the mess of his old house. Pieces of photographs, the tattered remains of an old shirt, and chunks of wood were all he found for the longest time. But as he dug around underneath piles of rubble, he started to find papers and manila folders from the various documents he kept in his file cabinet. As he found more and more of these loose pages he pulled up his sleeves and dug faster, reaching his hands deep into the mess, cutting and scratching his bare arms several times over, and pulling away pile after pile of junk.
And then when he was almost done with it, had almost given up completely, there it was lying half buried in some dirt and ash beneath a chunk of his old black metal filing cabinet. The entire cover and the edges of all the other pages were charred. But all the important information was there. Perfectly preserved.
George held the volume tightly to his chest before hiding it away inside his coat. Looking up and down the street, there didn't seem to be anyone watching or following him. Good. He walked back the way he came, several blocks up Weston until he came close enough to downtown to be able to flag down a cab. All the way home in the back of the yellow car, his fingers clenched the little book inside his coat against his chest. He knew he couldn't go to the media with it. They were all controlled by the Empire now. But he did have an idea of what he could do.
He smiled to himself in the cabbie's rearview mirror. He had a purpose now. And nothing else mattered anymore.
* * *
Marcus Amilius stepped down from the truck. He let his finger slide along the writing on the trailer “Darvender Industries” it said as he removed a layer of dust from underneath it.
“Burn it.”
He backed away from the truck as several vampires fought to hold the doors mostly shut while another vampire, Gaius, sporting a long black trench coat with sleeves that seemed to point out from his wrists stuffed a soaked towel into the trailer. When most of the towel was swallowed up, Gaius brought around a huge hose. At the end of it there was a long spout with a big metal valve alongside the tip of it. He sneered at his fellow vampires and laughed as he opened the valve and let the gasoline spray several vampires trying to get out from within the trailer and above them deep inside the big metal box.
Marcus loathed the time these creatures continually wasted. He longed to find another who cared more for preservation than the finite details of destruction like so many of his kin. Gaius finally lit the gas-soaked towel as if he could hear his brother complaining from within his mind. Had it taken any longer Marcus might have screamed his impatience aloud. A second later terrible screeches and screams echoed across the desert from within the trailer. The sound of ramming into metal came from within full force for a good hour or so.
Gaius and the others cheered and danced around the flaming metal box. Eventually the fire spread to the cab and then the engine and the entire vehicle exploded taking out a couple of the vampires who had been standing too close. It had almost made Marcus smile. Almost. He had tasted the scents of all those inside the truck. None of them had been the strange human he was now finding himself obsessed with learning more about.
He spat in the direction of the flames and watched as his saliva sizzled in the air before it landed in the sand below. They had spread out. He was sure of it. Marcus studied the image he’d memorized in his head of the multiple truck tracks heading out of the city. He remembered that the majority of the eighteen wheelers had been heading east. He was trying to focus on just where they might have been headed when Gaius slammed into his side amid all his dancing, ranting and raving. Without a second thought, Marcus grabbed Gaius by the throat and tore it out from his brother’s neck. Gaius fell to his knees gasping as if he were still some lowly human desperately trying to suck in air. Several of the other brothers took advantage of the moment and lunged at Gaius’s throat, fangs extended, and began to drain him. Marcus felt no pity as he watched his brother’s last moments. The thing had been weak. He was like an ancient child. An eternal baby crying out for shelter and feeding. Not anymore. Marcus finally did smile then. He smiled and he laughed even. Had he the ability to, he would have enjoyed pissing upon Gaius’s dried up filthy corpse.
Chapter 21
Never the Two Shall Meet
In the trailer of another Darvender truck coming up on the Arizona/New Mexico border, pale still bodies lined the floor in rows. The last ray of sunlight had drowned out only moments before. The next instant every eye in the trailer opened simultaneously. Bodies began to move stiffly at first and then more limber. Among them Ishan rose and stretched.
Master, we've lost at least one truck so far, Simon said in Ishan's mind from hundreds of miles away in Southern Texas.
Hank wasn't—
No, master. But Isingoma, Edgar, and Stanislov were.
Ishan felt a bitter hole sink inside his chest. He loved all of his brothers and sisters, but these were all very special friends to him. Ones that would not be easily, if at all, replaced. This made it real. They were truly at war with the Empire now. There was no turning back and many lives would be lost. Ishan let the news pass to the back of his mind. They would pay their respects in due time but for now they must move on and get as many of the vampires to the hive as possible.
Is there anything else I need to be aware of, Simon?
Uh, yeah. A lot of the vampires here are getting restless and wanting to feed. Obviously since the synthetic blood isn't ready and now with Isingoma gone, we don't have much choice but to let them feed at some point. I don't see how we manage to do so without jeopardizing the chance to keep the peace with the majority of the humans.
Let them feed on Imperial police. And of course any Imperial vampires they should find would more than suffice.
Is that safe? We don't know how old these others are. If they were to be extremely old it could kill them or...
Your concern is noted, Simon. But we don't have much choice right now. Let them feed on those who would oppose us only. There will be no innocent killing as long as I have anything to do with it.
I'm right there with you, Ishan. Just remember that's going to be a tall order to fill.
* * *
The red glow of tail lights from several cars ahead was the only thing worth looking at in the surrounding darkness as Dustin drove the truck along I-40 toward the edge of Arkansas.
"All right, so we're about twenty minutes from the state line now. Go ahead and get off at this next exit and I'll tell you where to go from there," Jonathan said, his face buried in the large map he had spread out before him.
"Gotcha." Dustin turned the wheel just in time to pull the truck onto the exit. There was a small truck stop across the street and nothing but fields as far as the eye could see otherwise.
"Okay, you're gonna take a left here and follow this road for about 12 miles. When we get to Chicken Pike Road—"
"Chicken Pike?"
Jonathan sighed. "Yes, Chicken Pike. Anyway, you're gonna take a right there and that should take us across the state line safe and sound."
"Fucking Chicken Pike." Dustin laughed as he glanced back at Jonathan over and over waiting for a response. Before long Jonathan let out a snicker as well. Toby sat unconscious in between them, his head resting on Dustin's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, man. I'm not used to this shit. I'm out in the middle of nowhere in the sticks at night where it looks like some psycho killer is going to walk out from the trees at any minute and I'm looking for Chicken Pike Road for fuck's sake!"
"You're not used to being out in the country much are you?"
"Hell no. It scares the shit out of me."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I feel right at home out here. It's the city that scares the shit out of me."
"Good then you can take the wheel when Michael Myers steps out in front of the truck." They both laughed then.
The paved road transitioned harshly into gravel as they passed several barren corn fields. A re
d moon hung just over the horizon behind the skeletal branches of many dead trees, resembling a large bloody wound in the woods. The truck bounced along as a white cloud of dust rose around them.
"Why is it so quiet out here? Shouldn't there be like some dogs out here barking at us or some shit like that?"
Jonathan looked up from his map at the fields and the farm houses coming up along the right side of the road.
Dustin followed his gaze. "I haven't seen any lights since that truck stop right off the exit. Should we maybe turn around?"
"No, we're fine. It's probably just a bunch of abandoned land or something."
Chicken Pike Road looked exactly like Dustin expected it to when they found it. A small green road sign barely visible in the dark save for the reflective glow of their headlights. The road itself was more dirt than gravel and was surrounded by barren fields closed in by rusty old dilapidated fences made of chicken wire. It was also especially bumpy and filled with pot holes. But still aside from the gravelly road and the loud crashes the tires made when the truck drove over a big dip and slammed back up onto the road, the place was eerily quiet.
It was then that Dustin noticed a small yellow glow in the distance out Jonathan's window.
"Hey, what's that?" Dustin fought hard to keep his hands tight on the steering wheel even though they were sweating badly enough to slip right off. Jonathan looked for a long time, shielding his eyes up against the glass for a better view, but didn't speak.
"Dude, what the hell is that thing?" The time for hiding fear was over now. Toby started to wake and began rubbing his eyes.
"I don't know. Maybe a plane or somethin'?"
The yellow glow was growing quickly. At first it had looked like a tiny firefly far off in the distance, but now it was becoming steadily bigger and couldn't possibly be just a tiny insect. A dark outline, darker than the night sky followed underneath the eerie amber glow. A moment later the yellow light became clearer as it split into two. Before Dustin could put together the fact that they were eyes, the thing slammed into the Truck causing the tires to swerve against the metal of its frame and the next thing Dustin knew the vehicle was careening off the road and out into a field.
He fought hard to keep control of it, but whatever was out there was still ramming into the side of the truck, almost knocking it on its side. Jonathan was scrambling to get his crossbow out from his jacket and load it and Toby was holding onto the dash and breathing heavily.
"Hold on, man. I'm almost loaded up and ready to go. When I yell 'now' slam on the brakes and I'll take a shot at this fucker."
"Okay." Dustin gripped the steering wheel tightly and kept the gas steady. He hoped that whatever Jonathan had planned would work and they could get out of there safely. But there was no way to know for sure. Jonathan locked the stake into place on the base of the crossbow and rolled down his window in a rush.
"Now!"
Dustin slammed on the brakes and the three of them jolted forward with the force of inertia and then Jonathan lunged his head and shoulders out the window. A moment later he fired the stake and then something fell from the sky with the most horrendous scream Dustin had ever heard. Whatever it was fell with a slap onto the ground.
There was a moment of complete and utter silence. Dustin reached for the shifter to put the truck in reverse when something hit them from the other side sending the truck spinning on its wheels until it faced the road again. Dustin didn't wait to find out if it was safe. The sight of the road was enough for him. He slammed on the gas and headed for the road.
The truck nearly ramped as it skidded up onto the dirt and gravel rocking side to side the whole way. As soon as all four tires were on the road, Dustin slammed the gas all the way to the floor. The truck roared to life blasting forward and sending a huge white cloud of gravel up behind them.
"That ought to give us some time," Dustin said.
Something collided with the top of the truck's cab denting the ceiling in several inches. Toby screamed. The truck began to swerve. Whatever it was was still up there and scratching at the metal that separated it from them. They came up on a sharp curve. It was too late to slow down. Dustin swerved the truck in order to stay on the road.
The truck leaned upward on its right side as he took the curve. A pale yellowish hand with long sharp claws shattered through the glass of Dustin's window and grabbed him by the chest. Toby tried to hammer at the vise-like hand with his fists but it did not let go.
"Watch out," Jonathan yelled as he pulled something from his jacket. Toby leaned back and Jonathan came up with a handgun and fired one shot into the creature's arm. A hole blew through the arm sending blood everywhere and the hand let go of Dustin.
He pulled the steering wheel all the way right causing the car to spin abruptly and the creature to fall off the side as they went. Its fierce hungry yellow eyes caught Dustin's attention as it flew away from the truck. The vampire that had been after them outside the truck stop had scared him. But not like this. That thing was at least partially human, but this one… this fucker wasn't human at all. It was pure monster.
The smell of mildew and old blood stained the inside of the truck. Dustin decided to leave his window open for a while. In the rearview mirror he could see that yellow glow again. Only this time it was getting farther and farther away. He sighed, wondering just how close they had been to dying.
A few minutes later they passed a sign that said DYERSBURG 20 MILES.
Jonathan wooped with excitement. "Yeah, buddy, you did it. We're in Tennessee now."
Toby let out a good howl of his own.
"Sweet Jesus. It's good to be in Tennessee," Dustin said and sighed with relief. His hands shook the more he tried to hold onto the steering wheel. He couldn't wait to stop and let Jonathan take the next driving shift. Dyersburg couldn't come soon enough.
Chapter 22
Know When to Run
The screams from the back of the truck had finally stopped. It had taken quite a while. Hank had turned up the radio, twangy country music blaring from the speakers—the only station that would come in—in order to block out the sobbing and howling that came all too obviously from the back of the man’s throat. But try as he might, even blocking out the noise that his human ears could hear, that other sense of his could graphically see the shape of what was happening. He hadn’t been able to shut it out this time. Probably because of just how loud the man’s cries had been.
But Hank knew sooner or later he’d have to stop and let them get rid of the body somehow. Otherwise, it would just stink up the trailer and draw attention from the other vampires. It was all over the radio now in between the belting southern moans and the trebly clicking of plastic picks against metal strings, the gentle vibrato of the steel guitar. The vampires of Necropolis were being hunted by the vampires of the Empire. The name going around the stations for them was “The Guardians.” It had made Hank laugh at first, but the more he thought about it they were guarding something all right. The Emperor’s lies. The Emperor’s rule over the people.
He’d also heard the news about the truck down in Mississippi and the vampires it had carried. Locked inside and burned alive. Each passing second the thought of Toby and Dustin out there made Hank shift in his seat, uneasy, and ready to take back all the fight in him if only things could go back to the way they were. But even if Hank could have turned back time, he knew that he could only redo his own choices. There were too many factors involved and they all pointed to this outcome.
Mesas stretched out in the distance in the moonlight on both sides of the highway as the truck barreled on. Red tail lights randomly dotted the road ahead in between. The constant movement of Hank’s cargo was becoming more and more prominent in his sonar-like vision. They were hungry. He could almost feel it in his own gut. If he waited much longer they would start knocking on the back wall of the trailer. He surveyed the wasteland of open desert surrounding the long stretch of road beyond and decided to stop off at the next exit.
Here was as good a place as any. Far enough from any city to stay underneath Imperial radar, and inhabited enough to have them head off for dinner and be back before anyone noticed a strange semi-truck sitting off the exit with its lights off and apparently nobody home.
A small exit popped up ahead, barely noticeable at first. Just another dirt road leading to a dozen or so weathered-all-to-hell old houses that seemed to have been painted generic desert-toned colors in an attempt to camouflage them against the giant backdrop of sand. Hank veered over, rolling up onto the dirt exit. Dust clouds floated along the road like filthy ghosts rushing to depart for the nearest place to haunt.
Hank sat in the cab of the truck for several minutes just trying to decide what to do. He sure as hell wasn't about to open the trailer door himself. Even as fast as Hank was with the blood flowing inside him, even if he could put up a good fight, the feral bastards would rush him and drain him before he could even welcome them to nowhereland. He looked around the dash. This had to be something they’d prepared for. He stood more of a chance against the truck's cargo than the original driver had.
There was nothing on the dash to give any indication of some kind of button or way to remotely unlatch the trailer doors. Hank began feeling around underneath and then remembered the vile of blood in the glove compartment. Ishan had known that Hank would likely end up in the cab of the truck whether as a driver or as a passenger, it didn't matter. Maybe the ancient vampire had put some form of directions in there for situations like this as well.
Hank popped open the glove box and began fumbling through the papers inside. There it was. Had to be. Maybe. He looked over a crude yellow-stained piece of paper with several diagrams on it. There were no discernible words to explain the points within the cab that were marked, only symbols that Hank didn't recognize. Maybe the Foederati understood this symbol writing, but Hank Evans sure as hell didn't.
Empire of Blood [Box Set] Page 38
