‘Any effect on vampires?’ asked Trent in his gravelly voice.
‘Sorry?’
‘Garlic.’
‘No, other than bad breath I’m afraid,’ replied Father Matthew absently.
‘So what now?’ asked Jake, his voice cracking, ‘How long does he have?’ Jake felt numb, the words seemed to be coming from somewhere far away.
‘I’m no expert - ’
‘- You’re the closest we’ve got,’ growled Trent.
Father Matthew paused, looked at Jake. He could see the pain etched in the young man’s face. ‘After being bitten, and dependant on the conditions, the change usually occurs within twelve hours if it’s a main artery, to thirty six hours if it’s not... with the compress… maybe a little longer.’ He looked at the others. ‘Do you know when he was infected?’
‘It must have been in the battle; day before yesterday.’
The Priest nodded, calculating quickly. ‘Based on where the bite is, the way he’s behaving… my best guess if that he probably has no more than three to four hours left. Jake, I’m so sorry.’
‘What usually happens to them, once they’ve changed?’ asked Trent.
‘Under normal circumstances he would be adopted by the vampire that turned him.’
‘He was killed,’ muttered Jake his tone dispassionate and deathly cold.
‘Lord Tolon… yes I know, it made quite a stir in the city.’
‘And without a master?’ Trent continued, pushing the Priest.
‘I’m not sure... but from what I’ve seen in the City, I think any vampire near enough could claim him now.
Trent looked at Jake, ‘you realize what this means, son... what we have to…’ he didn’t finish his sentence.
‘I know, but not yet.’ Jake’s words came out as a whisper.
Megan watched helplessly as Jake simply turned and without another word walked away.
When Jake was out of ear shot Trent spoke quietly, ‘Megan can you arrange two more guards, armed, to keep watch at all times please?’
Megan nodded still in a daze, her eyes still fixed on the distant figure of Jake as he stormed away with his head down.
‘What about Jake?’ She asked.
‘He’ll find a way. With time, he always does.’
‘I’m afraid that time is something we may not have much of. Look I know this is another problem, but I came to try and help you. I have a plan. I think it would be best if you surrendered. I believe that I can broker a truce and - ’
‘- No, there will be no truce.’ Trent’s voice cut across the Father’s like a sharpened blade leaving no room for debate.
From two blocks away, through the gaps in the derelict buildings, a dark, hooded figure watched, unseen. He tracked Jake as he set off across the street outside Max’s home. Jake knew he had to keep walking, knew he mustn’t stop. Finally he reached a gap between two houses and collapsed against a wall.
The figure moved slightly so he could still see Jake, It was Zidtool. He stood in the shadows of a long disused bedroom, in a dilapidated building. But there was something different about his demeanour, something about the way he acted and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was wearing traditional vampire dress with full body armour, rather than the normal scruffy clothes he usually chose.
Jake tried to control his breathing his eyes were tight shut, he felt like his head was going to explode. He was finding it hard to comprehend, not so much the fact that Max had been bitten, more the fact that it had happened now, just when they seemed to have buried their differences. Then Jake realised that this was probably the reason Max had been different, time running out. Suddenly any thought of his own pain, or that of his brother disappeared as a watchman’s low call went up. Jake’s head jerked round as Megan appeared from the doorway across the street, out of breath.
‘Jake!’ She yelled.
Jake was shocked at the sight that met him when he entered his brother’s room. Three guards, together with Father Matthew, were desperately trying to hold Max down as he writhed in agony on his bed. Another guard lay unconscious against the wall, blood oozing from a deep cut in the side of his head. Max’s veins bulged, his muscles flexed. Jake hesitated in the doorway with Megan holding his arm tight behind him. Suddenly he seemed to wake from his dream, but as he stepped into the room to help he was pinned to the spot as Max’s bloodshot eyes flew open, glowering, almost burning red and seemingly staring straight through him.
‘Jake. Help us,’ shouted Father Matthew.
But Jake couldn’t move as those blood shot eyes seemed to plead with him, leaving his legs leaden. Sparing him a quick glance Megan ran forward and grabbed Max, whose eyes turned on her, then he growled. Increased strength ripped through his body as he threw Megan across the room, then wrestling himself free he leapt into a half crouch punching one watchman and knocking Father Matthew into the wall.
Seeing Megan hit the wall had brought Jake back to reality and now he moved forward just as the second guard, a large framed man, grabbed Max’s throat with a heavy, meaty hand. Max looked at the man as Jake grabbed Max’s other arm. Jake watched as Max slowly, and with ease, released the watchman’s grip, crushing the man’s hand and ignoring the man’s screams.
‘Max. It’s me. Fight it. For God’s sake Max, fight it,’ screamed Jake.
Suddenly distracted, Max looked round.
‘Jake?’ He stuttered, spittle flying from his mouth.
‘Yes Max, it’s me your Brother.’
‘Jake? It’s too late…I can feel him.’ Max was struggling to speak.
‘Who?’ asked Jake, hearing the fear in Max’s voice.
‘HIM!’ Max shouted; his eyes widened in fear. ‘HIM!’
Jake didn’t fully understand what was happening, but the concern in Max’s voice sent a cold flash of fear coursing through his body like liquid.
‘Max, you can fight this.’
Max looked at the guard as if seeing him for the first time and slowly released his hand. ‘Sorry,’ he said weakly as the man clutched his mangled hand and slid to one knee.
‘Max, we need all the help we can get. I’m going to do everything I can to help you, But Max you have to fight it. Can you do that for me?’
Max relaxed a little, the thing in his head pulling back slightly.
‘I’ll try, but I can feel him, trying to get into my head.’ He looked around the room and at the carnage he’d caused, then beckoned Jake closer. ‘Bro, I don’t know how long I can do this.’
Jake held out his hand and Max took it immediately, Jake wondered at how it had taken all this time to resolve their differences and now wondered how long they had left. As soon as this thought struck him he tried to push it far, far from his mind.
‘I’m here for you now,’ he said and heard the uncertainty in his own words.
‘You know what you have to do?’ pleaded Max, keeping eye contact with Jake.
Jake just looked away as tears pricked his eyes.
‘Jake. I don’t want it to be anyone else. Do you understand? Do you promise? Do you?
With his eyes squeezed tight shut, Jake simply nodded.
Chapter 19
The Vampire Army Approaches and Jake’s Past Returns to Haunt Him
The watchman who only hours earlier had witnessed the arrival Father Matthew was scanning the same street when something else caught his eye. He adjusted his binoculars, re-focused, and adjusted them again.
‘Oh Shit!’ he muttered at the sight of the vampire army approaching in the distance, which brought an unprecedented feeling of nausea crashing into the pit of his stomach. Then came the sound and it was immense.
There hadn’t been a sight like this for centuries. The vampire Generals all wore traditional robes with full body armour underneath. The lead rider carried a single banner, which hung in the still air, the colours a stark juxtaposition against the ashen grey, cold sky. At the front the pale face of Shallock could be seen beneath his black hood. With his
eyes shut he concentrated. Pulling back his hood to reveal his flowing white mane, he held up a hand.
‘I can sense him… it’s nearly time, but there’s another here, too.’
Jake crashed out of the house, closely followed by Max, behind them Megan with Father Matthew trying to keep up. Men were running in all directions across the street. Jake quickly took command.
‘You, break out the weapons. Make sure everyone is armed, women, children, everyone. If they can hold a gun, they get one. Set up barricades, use anything we’ve got to slow them down.’
He sprinted over to Trent, who was rubbing his leg absently, staring in the direction of the impending attack. Megan was close behind. ‘How far out?’
‘About four blocks, they’ve stopped.’
‘How did they find us?’
Trent looked over towards Father Matthew, who still stood with Max. Then back to Jake and Megan.
‘He didn’t mean to…’
‘I know, Jake.’ Said Trent, holding up a hand, ‘Anyway we’ve got bigger problems…’ He paused, ‘look about Max, I know he’s your brother but...’
‘I know. I’ll watch him Trent. He’ll be my responsibility.’
Trent nodded, ‘well don’t let him become ours.’
Four blocks out, the vampire army began to slowly bang their fists on their body armour. THUD, THUD, THUD a slow, disconcerting rhythm picked up by each in turn.
The sound washed over the resistance, as did the fear, a fear as feral and as real as anything they had ever felt. Men swallowed their mouths suddenly dry as they shot uncertain looks to one and other. You could see it in their eyes – defeat. Then Jake walked out in front of them, crossed the street calmly and climbed on a low wall and spoke. His voice was measured and calm and, Megan noticed, as steady as a rock.
‘Men,’ he looked down at Megan. ‘And women. We stand here today, facing our most feared enemy. For years we have hidden away, hoping that this day would never come. Yet in all that time we’ve known, with a chilling inevitability, that one-day it must.’
As he spoke an eerie calm descended over the men, women and children that stood watching him. Slowly others appeared from doorways of the houses all around and walked, mesmerised into the middle of the street, drawn towards him.
‘We no longer have the choice about whether we fight.’ Jake paused, looked around the familiar faces, seemingly into each and every pair of individual eyes. ‘But we do have a choice about how we fight.’ Again he looked down into the attentive faces of the growing group of men, women and boys, all now staring back, rapt. ‘How we fight today not only defines us. But it defines the human race. So whatever the outcome, whatever the pain, let them remember us. And let the humans who have sold their souls...’ Jake pointed to the vampire lines somewhere behind him, ‘...who stand with those demons, be reminded of what it truly means to be human.’
There was utter silence.
‘To battle!’ Jake yelled and a cheer erupted, a cheer so loud that it momentarily shook the vampire army that waited now just a block away. As if in response, Shallock roared, the other vampires joining in. The now familiar cry signalled their attack and they charged, appearing from around the corner of the houses just a hundred yards away.
The resistance opened fire, as the first wave crashed through their rudimentary defences. The half-lings, oblivious to the gunfire, pushed forward. Behind them the human turncoats hesitated. One crouched, brought his gun up, and then lowered it in shock as if suddenly realising what he’d signed up to for the first time. Behind him warm breath tickled the hackles on his neck, his head span as a vampire smiled at him, leaving him nowhere else to go; but forward.
The resistance lay down volley after volley of small arms fire, from directly ahead as well as from the buildings on each side of the street. The half-lings, sensing blood in the air, continued forward through the hail of lead, seemingly unfazed. Each half-ling pushed forward, only stopping when they were cut down dead.
‘Now!’ shouted Trent and from a building on their right, came a burst of scorching flame, then another, and another as one of the watchmen opened fire with a flamethrower, liquid flames engulfed a half-ling and it screamed before falling to the ground. Another half-ling caught in its flames staggered on, screaming, until something deep in the recesses of its mind told it to die as well.
‘Kar!’ roared Shallock, anger building in him. He wasn’t really angry that they had decided to fight, but he was angry that they didn’t appear to be scared. This wasn’t how he had imagined it would be. On his command, most of the remaining half-lings charged at the watchman using the flamethrower, while a group of ‘turncoats’ provided them with covering fire. The watchman twisted as bullets ripped into him, rounds zinging into the flamethrower.
Shallock’s smile suddenly changed as realization slowly dawned. He started to scream, trying desperately to call off the vampire dogs, but the scent of blood was too strong for them and they piled on top of the fallen figure just as the backpack exploded, engulfing them all in ball of liquid napalm.
Shallock stood in the street, bewildered by the battle that raged all around him. Suddenly his head span as a series of rounds crashed off his body armour, one digging into his shoulder beneath the straps. He focused on the watchman who had the audacity to fire at him. Then with unbelievable speed he crossed the gap to his attacker, who just froze as the vampire attacked. It only took one blow to kill him.
The resistance scattered as the vampire army breached their basic defences. But even in retreat they were disciplined, working together, taking it in turns to lay down covering fire as others ran for their lives before returning the favour.
Jake kicked one of the few remaining half-lings as it approached. It was badly burnt. Its head span on the impact, then it simply growled and looked slowly back at him with its teeth bared. Two high powered bullets ripped into the side of its head, then another two well-placed rounds sheered its head from its spinal column. It frowned, lurched once, before crashing to the ground.
Megan stood with a hunting rifle in her hand; smoke still rising from the barrel. Jake grabbed her, then, with a sluggish Max and a terrified Father Matthew, the four of them headed for cover. Behind them a watchmen was torn apart as another of the remaining half-lings was cut down by heavy automatic gunfire.
Inside one of the houses, Faith, the little girl saved by Jake, exploded through the door and into the old ruined kitchen. With a heavy sense of foreboding she scrambled into an old cupboard and closed the door behind her. Outside she could hear the scratching of the half-lings on the floor as they ran through the house.
Outside the battle raged with a terrible ferocity. Smoke and explosions filled the air. Four human turncoats, who had sold out to the vampires, including Josiah, Jackson and Tobias were firing at a group of watchmen who were trapped, hemmed into a corner of an old building. Suddenly there was the sound of a shotgun being racked loudly behind them and they turned in surprise. A pair of cold blue eyes starred back.
‘You know what? You’re even worse than them,’ growled Trent. They span opening fire in a panic, Trent, ignoring their bullets, limped forward, completely unfazed by their inaccurate gunfire as he unleashed deadly round upon round eventually dropping them all.
In the middle of the street, in the midst of the battle, a heavyset Japanese fighter swung a Katana sword expertly. It’s edge deadly sharp, despite the many nicks out of it. In one blow he severed the head of a half-ling, which continued to stagger on for a number of steps, before falling dead to the ground. He spat on the corpse, turned. Suddenly a shadow fell over him, although just under six feet tall himself, he found himself looking up into the pale blue eyes of Shallock.
‘That belonged to me,’ he hissed.
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ replied the man sarcastically. Then he screamed as he swung the sword. The vampire moved quickly, but not quickly enough and was caught by the blade, which sliced deep into his shoulder. But Shallock didn’
t even flinch; instead he just bared his teeth and attacked again. He hit the man in the face but was driven back as the man swung the sword up and across his body with amazing dexterity. The blade slicing deeply.
Shallock hesitated, looked down at the slash across his chest scored deep into his body armour. The man spat out a mouthful of blood and took up a defensive position with the blade held high above his head.
‘Come on then you piece of shit, let’s see what you look like with no head.’
He swung the sword again, down and to the left. Shallock moved in a blur, the blade missing his head by inches, and then the blade was brought round in a smooth arc, up over his shoulder and back down, this time from right to left. It couldn’t miss. Yet somehow it did as Shallock wheeled away, spinning through the air, landing hard, he rolled. The Asian man was now behind him moving again, bringing the blade down in a smooth arc towards the vampire’s head. But instead of the expected deathblow, there was a clang as the blade was deflected away sharply. Slowly Shallock stood, a steel pipe in his hand held across the back of his neck. Casually he twirled the pipe in a circle.
‘Now let’s play.’
The man attacked, sparks and slivers of steel showered into the air as he pushed the vampire back. They he paused. Shallock smiled then retaliated. The pipe was a solid blur as Shallock span the weapon in ever changing arcs. Sparks flew as the pipe ate into the blade until with a clang the sword finally tumbled away from the man’s fingers.
The Asian man smiled, ‘you know you’ll never win, you…’
Before he could finish, Shallock roared out loud and punched through the man’ chest, lifting him clean off the ground. The man, defiant to the end, still managed to spit blood in the vampire’s face with his last breath.
Across the street two resistance fighters were battling with a half-ling. It was scarred and burnt badly with one arm hanging limply by its side, yet still it fought on. One of the men it was fighting with was tall and wiry, the other short and squat. They stood on each side firing at it as it turned between them, its teeth slashing, its good arm trying to grab. Finally by working together they managed to kill the beast. But before they could relax they sensed something behind them, a noise.
Dominant Species Page 15
