On each side of the auditorium, two large and now faded abstract murals looked down on the unusual group below. It was a group that did not like to sit around waiting and as such it was a group that quickly became restless. The voices had begun to increase notably in volume. Suddenly one group of Vampires was shouting at another, their arms waving aggressively.
The sound of the arguing and general chaos greeted Drameer as he entered the auditorium from near the back. He stood briefly, taking in the general disorder and then glanced to the centre stage and the empty podium. On each side leading up to the podium a huge vampire guard held one of the half human, half vampires, as they strained at their chain leashes. Drameer scanned the audience, saw a familiar figure and with a slightly surprised look on his face dropped down two rows to sit on the end. Four seats in the gaunt face of Zidtool turned and nodded to him. He spoke in his quiet, yet slightly grating voice.
‘Drameer. Good to see you.’
‘You too Zidtool, I haven’t seen you for ages, killed anything interesting lately?’
Zidtool snorted. ‘It’s always interesting, don’t you think?’
Suddenly the noise subsided and both Vampires simultaneously turned toward the podium as Overlord Karick entered, at his side the ever-present Voltan.
Karick climbed the steps to the podium and stood facing his audience. He cast he eye around the auditorium. Where he gaze fell, silence followed as one by one the vampires stood. That was until his gaze reached Zidtool, who remains resolutely seated as Drameer climbed to his feet to his left. Karick paused on Drameer and then returned his gaze to Zidtool. His angry eyes burned like fire. An empty silence followed, before Zidtool, chuckling, stood. His voice hissed out across the auditorium.
‘My apologies, oh great one, I did not see you there.’
He threw in a mock bow sending hushed laughter rustling around the auditorium, which was quickly silenced by Karick’s steely gaze.
‘Always the comedian, eh Zidtool, perhaps you would like to discuss your sense of humour with me, in private, afterwards?
A lopsided smile flickered across Zidtool’s face.
‘Well?’ asked Karick, reasonably, but everyone picked up the steely coldness beneath.
Zidtool lowered his head.
‘Apologies again, my Lord, that won’t be necessary.’
Content, Karick finally nodded. Around him the vampires, as one, silently sat down.
Although the microphones no longer worked, Karick’s voice rang through the auditorium, loud and clearly.
‘Consider this Council in session.’
Jake knew that moving around Brooklyn, or the City of New York, was dangerous at the best of times. Fear of discovery and attack from vampires, as well as the other clans, not to mention the things that were supposed to live further out, was always a threat. Also the things they knew as half-lings, neither man nor vampire, were often left to roam around on their own, or even left abandoned, seeking food. But moving around at night meant even greater danger. In the early days they had walked the streets in small, armed groups, but after various attacks and near misses with the vampires, they had realised that they needed a safer way to avoid unwanted detection if they were to survive.
It had been Lano’s father that had provided the solution - the abandoned railway tracks, stations and unused lines that lay beneath the City in an underground network labyrinth of tunnels. Lano’s father had been a history teacher, with an insatiable appetite for anything transport related. Having discovered the hidden, underworld of New York City as a young boy he had spent much of his life uncovering, researching and documenting the hidden rail network buried deep beneath the streets of the City. Now over the years the resistance had broken through walls, sealed others and made enough rough connections between both the abandoned, as well as the previously widely used network, to be able to travel around, if not in total safety, at least in greater safety than walking around above ground amongst creatures that could see in the dark and that had an unnaturally good sense of smell.
Entrances and exits to each of the routes were always well hidden and guarded by the ever present watchmen. Once inside the tunnels, they would be provided relatively good protection from prying eyes. However, this still did not imbue any real feeling of comfort in those that had to take the route and pathways though the darkness, where the reality of the rats, lack of light and strange and sudden noises all conspired to keep them feeling anything but safe and secure.
It was now in such a position that Jake found himself, on a dark and wet night near the Brooklyn Queen’s Expressway, amongst the sound of footsteps that could be heard echoing quietly all around. Inside, moving slowly, the small party shuffled along disused tracks in almost total darkness, their only light coming from the four oil lamps that swung rhythmically in the hands of the two watchmen that led the way and the two that followed behind.
Max walked at the front beside a burly watchman with a large walrus moustache. Jake, wanting to keep as much distance between himself and his younger brother, had chosen to walk at the very back. Even though they walked slowly the four lanterns only managed to spread a small amount of illumination, and so they still stumbled on the uneven ground and old railway sleepers and other unseen debris that cluttered the path beneath their feet.
With eyes darting left and right, they moved forward in a single line, treading carefully and ever wary. Suddenly the lead watchmen signalled for the group to stop, the signal was quickly and silently passed back from one person in the line to the next in total silence, until the entire group had stopped moving.
There followed a long pause, then Jake heard Max whisper something up ahead. ‘What is it?’
Jake was unable to make out the reply. He breathed quietly through his mouth, his ears staining for any sound that might be out of place. Two lamps moved past him creating a line of four white dots ahead. The four lights then began moving forward in unison and on into the darkness ahead, leaving the group behind in fast growing blackness. Then, as Jake watched the four lamps moved further away, they must have suddenly walked around a kink in the track ahead and the lights disappeared altogether, leaving them in complete and utter darkness.
No one moved. An uneasy feeling began to spread down the line. It seemed an eternity before the lights returned. Jake waited for the watchmen to pass him in order to retake up his position.
‘What was it?’ he asked.
‘Nothing; Bret thought he’d heard something, that’s all,’ whispered the tall watchman next to him, as the group started moving forward again. ‘I think he’s getting jumpy in his old age.’
‘Aren’t we all?’ muttered Jake almost to himself as the group carefully picked their way ahead still looking all around and listening for anything else out of the ordinary. Ten minutes later they had reached their exit. Bret, the lead watchman with the bushy moustache nodded the all clear and the party crept forward and out of the tunnel and into an old subway station. Slowly the figures squeezed through the tall barriers and crept out into the cold night air, where they were briefly silhouetted against the slightly lighter sky outside. The two rear watchmen took up positions near the station and blended into their surroundings as the others continued on into the night.
Jake knew that there was only so far you could go using the underground network and a part of him was glad to out of the claustrophobic surroundings, but there was now even more danger and he was now on an even higher alert as the possible dangers of the night fought to paralyse him. The resistance fighters slowly walked through the barren landscape, dodging round wrecks of abandoned and burnt out cars, their feet clambering over rubble and piles of rotting bones.
Derelict buildings rose in defiance to the general destruction all around. Smashed windows and fallen bricks littered the ground. Streetlights that hadn’t worked for years looked down in mocking silence. Up ahead the watchmen would move forward, checking the route, before stopping to signal the all clear to the group behind. On this
signal the rest of them would move forward carefully until they had caught up to the watchmen, then the watchmen would set off again. This shuffling procession continued for about thirty minutes before Max suddenly raised his hand on hearing a small sound. Shotguns pivoted as everyone jolted to a stop, all of them holding their breath as one. Suddenly a half staved, stray dog tipped into the road. As one, the men relaxed.
Max signalled the all clear and the group trooped on quietly again in their peculiar relay race. After another ten minutes Jake picked out a small light in the distance as it blinked quickly, once, then twice and the group proceeded forward at a slightly faster pace.
Within the bowels of the General Assembly Hall of the United Nations building chaos had returned. Anger burned in the air as a tall pale faced vampire stood, all eyes fixed on him. His name was Shallock, one of the vampire Lords who ran the South Side. More importantly, Karick knew he was one of Rodan’s loyal followers.
He spoke with a strong New York accent layered with a slight Irish lilt.
‘The resistance grows stronger by the day. We simply want to know what you are doing about it,’ he demanded to rousing support.
Karick struggled to quieten the rising discourse. ‘Shallock; they are a nuisance nothing more.’
Then a squat vampire stood a couple of rows behind Shallock, his name was Dresden also one of Rodan’s loyal followers. When he spoke his voice didn’t match his physical appearance with its high pitched, nasally tone.
‘A nuisance you say? Well I say it is more when a dozen of my livestock goes missing with enough food for a month. Now, to make matters worse, two of my humans have disappeared as well.’
‘Aye,’ continued Shallock, ‘and they have stolen not just from Dresden, they have stolen from us all. Nowhere is sacrosanct anymore, from the lower East side, through China town; hell they’ve even hit Harlem.’
He looked round, noting with pleasure the growing support. From near the back Zidtool continued to watch, a thin, wry, lopsided smile on his gaunt face.
‘You said…,’ Shallock emphasised the word you ‘…that they didn’t pose a threat, that we should leave them be, they were just hungry. Then, when things got worse and leaving them unchecked was no longer an option, you said they would be brought to book. It was promised that the Mayor would provide the whereabouts of these troublemakers and bring them to the sanctuary or, failing that, dispose of them… and has he?’
All eyes focused on Mayor Cooper as he desperately tried to become part of the seat he was sat in. Behind him, the black, leather clad figure of Keermit leant slowly forward and whispered in his ear. ‘Perhaps it is time for a new Mayor?’
Cooper shot forward as her breath caressed his neck, accompanied by a cackle of laughter from the whole auditorium.
Drameer glanced around. It was clear to him that Rodan had orchestrated the discontent and, he had to admit, had done it quite well. He returned his focus to Karick, knew he was beginning to lose his patience and waited to see what he would do.
On the elevated dais, Karick raised his hand. ‘The Mayor will deliver… won’t you?’ he half bellowed at the human council members in the front row below. Mayor Cooper’s neck wobbled, as he vigorously nodded his head in agreement. Then his eyes bulged as Karick finished his sentence, more calmly ‘…or he will pay the consequence.’
The Mayor grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the building sweat from his face. Behind him, Keermit leant forward again but this time dragged a fingernail across his wet cheek before slowly licking it clean.
Suddenly a voice cut across the auditorium, bringing it to a complete silence. He had been waiting for it, but still Karick couldn’t help but grit his teeth and clench his fists as the voice of Rodan rang out across the chamber.
‘Overlord Karick we have heard these promises from you before. However, we are also aware of your… liberal ways…’
At this point Rodan glanced behind him and up to his left, his stare clearly directed towards Drameer, who simply touched a finger to his forehead in a mock salute.
Having made his point Rodan continued. ‘But you would do well to remember that not all of us agree with your approach. It seems to me that we provide our livestock with food, housing and protection and yet they are still ungrateful. What we need is strong leadership that ensures that they show their gratitude and I feel this means a return to our core Vampire values.’
‘You mean kill anything that’s still warm?’ retorted Karick, half to himself. Then he raised his voice in response. ‘Look, Rodan, whether you like it or not we need the humans, we need their blood to survive, and you know it.’
Rodan looked slowly round the auditorium, scanning the faces of his fellow vampires, carefully judging how far he might be able to push things.
‘Yes, I do understand that, and our humans have chosen to support us to this end. They choose to stay in the inner sanctum because, in return, we provide them with work, with a purpose…’ Again he scanned the rapt faces of his peers, ‘...and of course with their lives’.
Laughter and cheers crackled around the hall like electricity. Rodan knew that he was in command now; he held his hands out and waved down the cheering. ‘But… the so called resistance, these…’ he considered his next words carefully, like a surgeon, contemplating which scalpel to use to make the next incision. ‘…Nuisances have become far more dangerous than you have hitherto suggested.’
He walked to the end of the row he was in and began a slow walk down the steps towards Karick. Three steps behind him, Kadir followed like an oversized shadow. Thirty pairs of eyes tracked his every step; some of the vampires licked their lips, anticipating and looking forward to the possible fight they felt was getting close.
Rodan’s voice grew in strength as he descended toward Karick. ‘We all have stories of theft of our property. But are you aware that over the past six weeks over fifteen humans have also disappeared?’
‘We have no proof that they were taken by the resistance,’ retorted Karick as he watched Rodan closing, his mind racing.
‘Really? Then who is to blame? Perhaps you are suggesting that other Vampires are the culprits?’ sarcasm dripped from each and every word.
‘Of course not! But I do think you overstate the danger, they cannot cause us harm; we are far too powerful’.
Rodan paused, raised an eyebrow. ‘And I think you underestimate the danger, Overlord Karick. They may not have the physical strength we enjoy, but what they promise to our humans, is something far more dangerous.’
He stopped, near the bottom step now, and scanned the faces of the crowd, playing to the audience. ‘Something far more precious...’ Rodan turned to face his audience, and almost whispered the final word, ‘...hope.’
As Rodan placed his foot on the bottom step that led up to the podium and on towards Karick, Voltan stood automatically in his defence. Below him and behind Rodan, the massive form of Kadir eased closer still, he growled, low and guttural. Voltan tensed and began to move rise, but Karick placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, gently settling him back in his seat. Then Karick stepped forward as Rodan mounted the podium.
Without taking his eyes from Rodan, Karick slowly walked toward him. They now stood only seven or eight feet apart. When Karick spoke again he spoke quietly, but his voice had taken on an unmistakable edge, an edge that managed to silence the auditorium as one. ‘I said it is in hand.’
Within that simple statement a challenge had clearly been delivered, a metaphorical line drawn in the sand, a line for Rodan to stop at, or to cross; and Rodan knew it too. He knew also that if he crossed the line there would be no way back. He could feel how close he was, how close he was to usurping Karick, taking his power for his own purposes. He paused, it was a pause filled by a complete and absolute silence. As Rodan hesitated Karick filled the growing void with a simple question.
‘Do you doubt me, Rodan?’
And there it was, the unspoken challenge suddenly made vocal, loud an
d clear without any ambiguity for Rodan to hide behind.
Karick seemed to cross the gap between himself and Rodan without actually moving. One minute they were six feet apart the next toe to toe.
‘Well?’ His voice remained totally true, the tone strong with absolutely no hint of fear in it anywhere.
By contrast Rodan’s response, together with his initial hesitation had already lost him some of the former power he’d garnered.
‘I speak only what others are thinking, no more, no less,’ he replied, trying desperately to keep his voice as strong as possible.
‘So you believe you speak for the entire Council?’
Rodan looked to the audience where uncertainty had filled the air as well.
‘I believe the resistance must be stopped.’
‘And I agree. As I have already stated, it shall be done.’
Karick seemed to move without moving, his face was now only inches from Rodan’s. Behind him, Kadir tensed but froze the moment Karick’s eyes, full of power and menace, pinned him to the spot. In the audience Drameer hid a smile with his hand, his eyes glinting. Keermit scowled, her face burning hot with anger.
‘So Rodan,’ continued Karick, his voice now calm and quiet, but still with a steel core ‘I ask again, but only once more. Do you doubt me? Do you challenge me?’
A whisper rustled around the auditorium. At the back Zidtool leaned back in his seat, his long arms crossed behind his head. His lopsided smile didn’t change as he glanced across at Drameer. ‘Interesting don’t you think, I’m really glad I came now.’
On the podium, Karick’s face was so close, Rodan could feel his breath. His eyes flicked quickly to the faces in the auditorium. To each of his erstwhile supporters, Shallock, Dresden, one by one each vampire lowered their head, avoiding his pleading gaze.
With his support sapped completely Rodan turned back to face Karick. ‘No’ he almost whispered.
‘Sorry? I didn’t hear you,’ taunted Karick, louder now.
Dominant Species Page 7
