Empire of Blood [Box Set]

by Robert S. Wilson

  When the meeting was adjourned, nearly two hundred people from both genders and all different shapes and sizes stepped up to Hank's table and volunteered to fight.

  ***

  That night Hank secluded himself to an office room at the far corner of the building. The blood he needed didn't have a synthetic alternative as of yet. He locked the door behind him and took a seat behind the rectangular wood-varnished desk. It reminded him of the Emperor's desk in that secret underground compound where Hank had made a deal with the devil himself for the life of his son. A life since gone. The thought of Toby tried to bring back the deep searing pain in his chest, but the cold empty hatred took over. Hurting wouldn't bring back his son any more than murdering the bastard responsible would. But at least the latter offered some kind of justice.

  Hank took out one of the vials from inside his fatigues and drank it down whole. The blood seemed to boil down his esophagus and fuel the rage building inside him again. It was hard enough to focus on these battles that, compared to the ultimate goal in Hank's mind, seemed petty at most. It had taken him months to realize that just tracking the Emperor, finding him, and murdering him in cold blood would be just useless selfish revenge.

  But when he began to focus on the Empire as a whole and all that it stood for, all that it had destroyed in the past few decades, Hank saw a true purpose for himself. He could get his selfish revenge too, but he could also do something more. Besides... he still didn't know just what it was that he had as an advantage. The memories that Roger Tresney had recorded with Diana's blood didn't give him more than a riddle. A riddle that created hundreds more.

  Sure, he had learned that he was the descendent of a very old and terrible evil that called himself Emperor Caesar. Sure, he had learned that for some reason, Caesar had went to great lengths to destroy his offspring. But what if he had only done so to keep others from finding out his true past? What if Tresney was wrong and there was no advantage. On more than a handful of occasions, the Emperor had demonstrated physical strength beyond that of any other creature Hank was aware of. Perhaps even more powerful than the psychic and telekinetic strength of the Queen.

  A knock at the door brought Hank back to reality.

  "Yes?"

  "Sir, several platoons of Imperial soldiers have been spotted at the edge of town. No vampires yet, but we can't be too sure about that."

  Hank was at the door in a movement far too quick for human eyes to capture. He opened the door. Lieutenant James stood in the hallway at attention, his bald head gleaming with the reflection of the overhead halogen lights.

  "How many soldiers are we talking?"

  "A few hundred at least. One of our snipers on the east end of town radioed it in."

  Hank stepped out into the hallway and the two began to walk toward the main meeting hall. "Okay, good. Send word to the vampires that I'm on my way to their quarters. Tell them to go ahead and send a few of their scouts to keep a hidden perimeter around the building. I'll take the rest of them to get a closer look at what we're dealing—better yet, have them send at least a dozen or so. Scouts and foot soldiers. Just in case. I don't want to leave this place with any defensive weaknesses."

  "Yes, sir."

  Chapter 5

  The Celestial Joke

  Her scream echoed out through every cavern in the hive and in Simon's mind all the same. He rose from the small dark space he had made for himself and moved with inhuman speed and stealth to her quarters. She was sitting up in her bed, sweating and shifting her gaze blindly in all directions. For the first time Simon could remember, in his own memories and the ones he had experienced through the drinking of Ishan's blood, the Queen was afraid. Not just afraid, but terrified. She was asleep, but even that didn't take away the tension that came from knowing something so powerful, so motherly and yet so terrifying itself could actually fear something else.

  Simon ran forward and caressed her face. "Mother, wake up. It's only a dream."

  The Queen's icy steel fingers latched onto his throat and began to squeeze. Even though he couldn't die from such an assault, that didn't make the intense pain go away. He cried out from it. Her grip finally loosened, but still she did not wake. Her eyes opened, continuing the same blind searching as they had when Simon entered the cavern. Without warning she took him by the throat again and twisted before he could even yelp in protest. His neck broke and the next thing he knew everything went blurry, and gravity sent him tumbling to the ground. He lay there a moment while his neck cracked excruciatingly back into place and began to heal.

  By the time he got back to his feet again, she was lying there staring at the ceiling of the cave, silent tears glistening down the sides of her face in the dim sunlight reflecting off of some nearby deposit of water and creeping in through the cracks in the wall. "I'm sorry, my child." Her voice was weak, melancholy. "But it wasn't just a dream. It was the destruction of my own delusions."

  Simon stepped close to her side, wondering what he could do to comfort her.

  "Come close, my child. My time is almost here. I wanted so badly to believe the visions were complete. But I learned thousands of years ago not to trust their cruel games. I have a confession to make..." She coughed and to Simon's surprise a small spattering of blood soiled the thin sheet covering her body.

  Simon only waited.

  "I've been watching you for a very long time. Longer than you would believe." She looked down into the blood-soaked linen in her lap. "Longer than you've been alive, actually."

  Simon froze at her words.

  "Yes, child, it was me. Peter watched you all those years, did those horrible things to your mother, and even rebelled against Ishan, because of me. Because I wanted you to come. All of you. Because I wanted you to impregnate me. You. The man called Hank. Both of you. Because I knew that the seed the two of you brought would mix and make something new.

  "I had foreseen the paths that would bring you together and lead you all here."

  Simon stood there for a long time, his face covered in shock. He thought of Peter, of how he had died.

  "Peter wouldn't have stopped until you were all dead. I did what had to be done."

  "But you caused it... many died. Did you know it would happen?"

  "Yes." She hung her head in shame. "And I thought it was worth it. And so, even I am not wise beyond all. Even I can be tricked... Tricked by my own gift. I'm not carrying a litter of eggs to lie and hatch. The celestial joke's on me." She smiled. "I'm carrying twins."

  "Twins? I don't understand."

  "You won't, Simon. Not until they have come. Then you will understand what I could never have seen before it was too late."

  "Mother, what do you mean? What's' going to happen? Are you—"

  "Only that which must be, my child. Sad as I am that my vision has tricked me, I feel joy knowing the truth. Relief in knowing the end will come soon. And I can be free."

  Simon watched her, longing to know more of what she had seen, but she only lay there silent, a half smile, half frown across her face. That look of slight amusement you get at the most bitter moment. Then, she pulled Simon close against her skin, closed her eyes and the two of them lay there together and eventually slept.

  ***

  When the Hive woke with the stirring of many vampires, Simon could feel her hunger as if it were his own. Already, he knew the ancients were restless and would soon be out for the hunt. Although the human vampires had grown almost greedy for the synthetic blood, not one of the ancestors would so much as touch it, let alone drink a drop of it. And neither would the Queen. Before long, the tiny cavern was full of ancestors carrying fresh bodies, stripped naked and half-drained, ready for their mother. Simon left the room as the Queen sucked from the open wound of a young dark-skinned woman with vibrant yet dazed creamy blue eyes.

  As he made his way through the many corridors of the hive, he wondered whether he was now more apprehensive about what was going on here or what was happening with the war out there.
When he came to the main cavern, he was surprised to find Jackie sitting by herself watching the fire in the middle of the open room flicker and sparkle. He sat beside her and watched it too for a while. Neither spoke as the flames crackled, the sound echoing off the cave walls.

  She cared deeply for him now, he knew this. But, as much as he wanted to return those feelings, as much as he knew she was wise beyond her years, he couldn't bring himself to. Part of him couldn’t stop seeing her as anything more than a troubled young girl. The rift between them had grown in the past few weeks and now it was more vast than ever before. He longed for her friendship. Without Ishan, he felt lost and though the Queen's companionship was more than just welcome, it was a mother's love shared equally for so many children and not quite the same as the mutual bond between two friends.

  He was just about to reach out for Jackie, to take her in his arms and hold her and try to quell the loneliness inside her when something overwhelmed his entire being. He cried out in a tongue he'd never spoken as images, sounds, and smells flashed in his mind. The blinding scorching sunlight was piercing every pore in his body and yet... it wasn't. The words of men spat fires of hatred at him as they hovered over his withering body. But it wasn't his body that he saw spreading out below him. The slender legs and other curves made the shape of a woman. The men stabbed at her body with long dilapidated torches. And just when one of them was close enough to grab...

  "Simon, what's wrong? Stop it, please!" He woke up breathing heavily, lying in the middle of the cave floor, just inches from the fire. Jackie was standing over him, her face a mess of tears and red tired eyes.

  "What happened?"

  "What do you mean, what happened? You started fucking freaking out, that's what happened. What were you doing? You nearly gave me a heart attack..." Her words echoed against the cave wall and the two of them locked eyes and the obvious made them both laugh at the irony. “A heat attack…” When Jackie was done laughing, her face became serious, concerned. "Seriously, Simon, what the hell just happened."

  Simon sat up, mirroring her worried expression. "I don't know. I'm not sure... But I think I might have just seen... a memory or something... from the other Queen... from Ishan."

  Chapter 6

  The Ambush

  Hank was just a few blocks away from the Imperial church—the vampires had been hiding out in the old building’s basement during the daytime hours when an unexpected vision cut off all of his senses. Clarence, the man who had put up such a fuss during the town meeting, typed away at the crude excuse for a cell phone in his hand. The words weren't clear, but their meaning and intent was. He was sending a message to an Imperial Colonel named Chiles and awaiting orders. When the orders came, he slipped unseen downstairs to a basement room filled with several small metal containers of gasoline. Some town official had probably stored them there for local government vehicles to use from time to time, but now they were a godsend for someone who wanted to destroy what Hank had accomplished here from the inside out.

  Clarence grabbed two of the canisters and waddled out the door with them swaying back and forth against his legs as he tried to run quietly back up the stairs. The vision shifted and fire grew, spreading throughout the building. Small children, mothers and fathers, grandfathers all screaming and fighting to get out of a building that had been sealed tight from the outside.

  Hank started running at an incalculable speed, headed for the town hall. When he crashed through the door, the smell of smoke was already strong, a thick white cloud of it hovering over the main meeting room and the hundreds of bodies lying sleeping on small green fold out cots. Hank wailed out orders for whatever soldiers might be around and awake.

  Within minutes, several men rushed in and attempted to douse the flames with large buckets of water. For a moment there, it didn't seem like they would be able to stop the now roaring fire.

  Hank commanded about two dozen Foederati soldiers to begin evacuating the people from the still-burning building. He charged into the middle of the room frantically eyeing the place, looking for the source of the fire.

  Lieutenant James came running, a look of dread in his eyes. "Sir, we received a message via radio from one of the snipers keeping watch on the Imperial soldiers just before..." Hank had never seen Chandler James show so much emotion. "...before his signal went dead. The Imperial soldiers aren't soldiers—they're vampires dressed as soldiers. Our boys are walking into a trap."

  "Did you radio over to the vampire commander?"

  "Yes, sir. But there was no response. I'm not sure if I was too late, or if there's some other communication issue."

  Hank took a deep breath. He had to go, there was no choice, but he couldn't leave Clarence unfound. "Lieutenant, do you remember the man they called Clarence, tall blond older fellow in long brown overalls?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Find him. He's the one who started this." Chandler's eyes narrowed for a split second, but only a split second. He nodded without question and ran off toward some of the other soldiers. Hank turned and ran through the opening he'd busted into only minutes before.

  ***

  When radio contact went dead with four of the other snipers simultaneously, Darby knew something was up. He left his radio on the roof at his station in case his enemy was smart enough to use it to find him. With his stake-rifle strapped around his back, he headed for a hatch at the center of the building. He opened it and dropped legs first inside, latching his feet onto the ladder that had brought him up there in the first place. Pulling the hatch back with him, he set it gently closed and crept down the thin narrow bars for steps.

  There had to be a place to hide. When the last sniper to speak over the open channel said “vampires,” he knew he had to get out of there or he would meet the same fate very soon. The building was quiet. Not that he expected or hoped for otherwise. With the townspeople at the community hall and the vampires killing off several of the snipers, quiet was good. Real good. But it didn't last. Impossibly fast feet hammered up the stairs, the thunder of it rising up from the bottom of the building like a swelling vibration moving along a metal rod. Darby cursed his luck and slipped into the first door he came to.

  The room was large and open and filled with desks and computers and cubicle partitions. He dashed along a row between them until he came to an intersecting walkway and turned left, ducking below view and sliding into one of the cubicles then down under the desk inside. The reverberating steps on concrete stairs grew to what seemed like a deafening level in the otherwise utter silence. The noise abruptly stopped and muffled voices failed to completely fill the vast silence of the mostly empty building. They spoke a European language Darby wasn't familiar with. There were three of them by the sound, but he knew there could be more in other parts of the building.

  He lay there curled up under the desk hugging his knees and holding his breath. The voices trailed off as the thundering of vibrating concrete returned, this time moving upward away from his floor. He waited a long time, letting out the slightest of exhalations and holding his eyes closed tight from fear. He took a slow, somewhat calming—but not nearly enough—deep breath and pulled his stake gun around to face the outside of the desk, aimed to fire if anyone came near.

  Looking out at the wall, the long line of windows stretched across the place and reflected the other side of the wall. He thanked God or Shiva or whoever might be listening up there for giving him a good vantage point and waited. The unending silence from outside disturbed him. He should be hearing gunfire, explosions, some sign that he wasn't alone in this place waiting to be picked off by these bloodthirsty bastards. Trying to imagine different scenarios that would explain the lack of noise outside, he began to let his guard down and space out.

  But when the door creaked open and a tall menacing motherfucker of a vampire with long black dreds took slow creeping steps inside scanning the open room, Darby came to attention and then some. He couldn't help the breathing. It was going to give him away before l
ong if he couldn't stop it. He was near to hyperventilating when the vampire in the reflection snapped his keen eyes in the direction of the cubicle Darby was hiding under.

  The vampire moved slowly and silently toward it, not noticing Darby's reflection in the window. Knowing his position was already compromised, he turned to his right to where he was halfway facing the oncoming vampire coming toward the back of the cubicle. The vampire's plan was obvious. He would attack from behind, pull the dividers out of the way and strike.

  The next second, the shadow-covered divider burst up from the floor and the vampire shot forward just as Darby fired his rifle. The force of both objects colliding—vampire and stake—almost sent the latter completely through its target. But if it made it all the way through, Darby didn't have time to find out. He rolled backwards and onto his feet, backing away from the vampire's assault.

  The creature slammed against the carpeted floor and tried to get up but, before it could, the stake, still lodged inside its body, activated and began draining the monster's blood. It screamed out in a fading sort of cat cry as its face withered and shrank inward like a tomato drying in the sun in fast forward. Darby thanked his anonymous deity again for the help of the Necropolis vampires. He pulled another stake out with shaking hands and bent down and kissed the shiny metal savior before loading it into the rifle.

  "Suck on that, motherfucker." Adrenaline pumped wildly through his body. He felt like he could take on every one of them all by himself now. But the fear still shuddering through his body told him what he knew to be far more realistic. He got lucky... And it may not happen again.

  ***

  The edge of town was silent as the dead as Hank drew near. Nothing looked out of the ordinary other than the emptiness of the place; the lack of people and cars in the streets. He slowed to a stop and attuned his hearing to the distance ahead where he remembered stationing several of the snipers. Faint voices whispered in his ear from nearly a mile away. Someone was there all right, but who? He sent out his mental tendrils in attempt to control the visions the way the Queen had taught him. The first go brought nothing and he realized he was trying too hard. He calmed himself and let his mind wander.