The Blood of the Infected (Book 2): Once Bitten, Twice Live

by Stanton, Antony J.

“Who? What do you mean?” She was puzzled and only now did she begin to notice his uncontainable delight.

  “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  He took her by the hand and led her into the adjoining room. As she entered she stopped short and gasped. Bennett was awake and lay propped up against the pillows, gently sipping a drink through a straw. When he saw them he tried to turn his head to look at them and cracked a meager smile, although it looked painful for him to make even that much effort.

  “I understand I have to thank you as well for saving my life?” he croaked in a barely audible voice.

  “My word, you look an awful lot better,” Singleton beamed at him, the roller coaster taking yet another unexpected turn. “We thought we’d lost you.”

  “Not quite yet but I’m pretty glad you came when you did.”

  He had a large moustache that may once have been proud and bushy like a fox’s tail but now stuck to his face like a dirty smudge. His skin was ashen and cracked with lesions, and had flaked painfully over much of his face. His eyes were yellow and flickered around the room as though out of his control but he looked so much better than before and now it seemed clear that he was out of danger.

  “Well then, I’m Dr Anna Singleton, it’s a great pleasure to meet you.”

  He held out a feeble hand and almost let the drink slip in the process. “Bennett,” was all he could manage.

  “We’ve found a young girl too. Isabelle Boxall. Do you know her?”

  He nodded and looked down at the bed, as though reminded of unspeakable horrors.

  “Look I’m sorry,” she pressed on, regardless, “I’m sure this is really hard for you but I’ve got to ask; were there any other survivors that you know of?”

  His sigh sounded like it came from a place of great pain and suffering and Singleton was moved to tears from just imagining what he must have experienced. When he looked up next the yellow in his eyes was fast reddening.

  “There were many of us at first. Many of the people who worked there brought their families thinking it would be safe and for several days we were fine. We had food and water and the labs seemed secure. Then something went wrong. The virus got in and once it was inside the labs there seemed to be no way to contain it. I don’t know how it got in, or maybe it had come in right from the start, I just don’t know.” He spoke in short bursts, interspersed with gasps for breath that rocked his entire body.

  “Once people started to get sick we didn’t know anymore who was ill and who wasn’t. We didn’t know who we could trust until someone got really bad. Then it became clear, and then it was too late to do anything for them. We tried to work out a system of quarantine but it was useless. Nobody wanted to be kept in the isolation area with all the others who were potentially sick and so fighting broke out, even amongst those of us who were not ill. It was terrible, really savage.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as the horrors flooded back. “Then suddenly the number of diseased seemed to rise. They were everywhere, attacking everybody. I tried to help, we all did, but there was nothing we could do. So I ran. Some left the main building and were going to try and get to one of the secondary labs but we didn’t hear from them again. I guess they’re all dead. I just hid. They were screaming, so many people screaming, but I didn’t know if they were sick or people calling for help so I stayed where I was. Please, there was nothing I could do.”

  He stared imploringly at Singleton as he cried freely, the guilt etched into his face reflecting her own emotions. It was a hardened person at Headley Court who had not felt the slightest twinge of survival guilt. It was the word ‘please’ that he had used that really tugged at her heartstrings, as though he badly needed her to understand that it was not his fault, to exonerate him of his culpability.

  As he finished he started to shake. His shoulders racked as he wept uncontrollably, the sound of a grown man in such pain was truly agonizing. Singleton perched on the edge of the bed, not wanting to press too hard against his frail body but close enough to put an arm around him. Whatever horrors they had been through at Headley Court, they were nothing in comparison to what this man had faced. And the young girl too.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, ” Singleton said. “It must have been so horrendous, I can’t even begin to imagine.” As his sobs subsided she reluctantly continued to probe. “The girl, Isabelle, do you know her?”

  Slowly he regained control of himself. His nose was now runny and he seemed completely desolate, a broken man. “I tried so hard to keep her and her family safe, you know. I knew them all quite well. I worked with her father.”

  “Dr Boxall?”

  He nodded, just once, an intensely sad look crumpling his features.

  “We found his laptop. The girl had it. He seems to have written some instructions before he…” she paused, not wanting to finish the sentence. “Before it was too late. Some sort of instructions on how to develop a cure. Do you know anything about that?”

  Again Bennett nodded. A look of enormous relief swept across his face and he closed his eyes. “Oh thank God! I worked very closely with him throughout the drug’s development. When we realized that things had gone wrong we started trying to find out why and to see if we could reverse the effects. Jason, Dr Boxall, was the key to the drug’s development and he was best placed to remedy the situation. We recorded everything that might be useful on that laptop. I thought we’d lost it. Thank God…”

  Hearing how important the computer was sent a thrill of excitement through Singleton and she shuddered. “I don’t suppose Dr Boxall is still alive? Do you happen to know if he survived? Somewhere in the labs?” She could not keep the note of desperation from her voice.

  Bennett sadly shook his head. “No. He was one of the first to go,” and Singleton felt her hope dashed. Bennett took a deep breath. “I thought we’d lost the laptop and all the work we’d done when I got separated from his family. I tried my best, I really did, but there was nothing I could do for them.” He broke down again. Handley laid a hand on Singleton’s shoulder and gestured towards the door.

  “Okay, I’m sorry to have to ask these questions. I know they are difficult for you. Look I think that’s enough talking. Please, rest in peace.”

  He closed his eyes and the demons that plagued his waking hours quickly dispersed. His breathing became deeper and more regular even as she lifted the glass out of his hand and tiptoed away.

  As she quietly closed the door Dr Handley turned to face her. They stood close to one another. He could feel her breath on his face and the intensity in her red-rimmed eyes was fierce and compelling. She spoke each word slowly and defiantly.

  “We-have-got-to-go-back.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Sebastian was just slipping out when Farzin entered the nave of the cold church. They exchanged a glance and for a lingering moment Farzin watched him steal away into the night until he had disappeared from view. Darius wondered at the nature of the look passed between them. Not for the first time did he contemplate if there really was contempt between the two of them. To have remained in the same clan for so long with such ill-feeling seemed extraordinary, but if they were merely pretending not to get on, then to what end? And what would have held them both to the clan if there were feelings of antagonism? There did not appear to be any particular tie for Sebastian so why would he not just have left a long time before?

  Darius sat in a low chair behind the altar feeling the coldness in the smooth, wooden arms like a comfort blanket. A single flickering candle set in a tall, metallic stand made eerie shadows cavort around him. The church felt slightly damp and there was a musty, stale smell common to long-disused buildings and crypts. He looked at his hands, worn with time and battered through experience. The skin was taut. Each digit was gnarled with knobbles on every knuckle, and coarse, black hair like wire lining the back.

  “I am grown old,” he rumbled as much to himself as to Max standing beside him.

  “We are both old, my friend,
” Max placed a large, heavy fist on his shoulder.

  “I am weary and out of touch. I feel that I have not adjusted as fast as I should to this strange new world.”

  Max grunted but remained silent. Whatever his thoughts were, he kept them to himself this night.

  “You have tried to counsel me my friend,” Darius continued, “but I have been deaf to your advice and for that I apologise. I can see now that you tried to steer me into a faster approach towards the humans but I resisted and I was wrong. I feel as though the rug is now being pulled from beneath my feet and it may well prove to be too late to regain my balance.”

  “The race is not yet run, my lord. There is still time for us to do what we should.”

  “I hope you are right but we must act swiftly. We will go to the humans and make our play this night.” He paused for a long moment in silent contemplation, staring ruefully out into eternity. “Bring Luca to me.”

  Max slipped away into the dark and the night was still. Farzin moved quietly like a wraith. He stood before him, bowed down in a gesture of subjugation, his head low and arms outstretched and open wide, staring only at the floor.

  “My lord, forgive me.”

  It was the first time they had seen each other since Farzin had introduced the newcomers to the clan and Darius had attacked Farzin. Darius rose slowly and stepped forwards. There was no sign of Flavia or Alec and he suspiciously circled the vampire before him. “Speak.”

  Farzin straightened up but kept his head bowed. “We have had our differences of opinion and for that I do not apologise. It is not good for a ruler to keep only his own counsel. Every leader needs to have various options put before him. However I was wrong to challenge you as vehemently as I did. Having placed my opinion before you I should have accepted your wisdom and done my utmost to help the clan proceed along the lines that you had ordained. I have been obstructive and I have been a lesser clan member for it, and for this, my lord, I do sincerely apologise. Over the many years you have led us all wisely and safely and I commend myself into your charge once more. Please accept my humble and contrite confession. Your will be done, my liege.”

  “Where are your accomplices? Where do they skulk?” Farzin seemed genuinely remorseful but Darius was suspicious nonetheless. This was a drastic change of opinion, quite out of character for him.

  Alec now stepped forwards from the shadows behind a pillar just as Max and Luca returned, and Flavia was a few paces away. She watched with curiosity as Farzin summoned Alec forwards. He approached holding in front of him the two chalices.

  “My lord I have wronged you. I ask your forgiveness and I would like to lead you to the humans. We could approach them tonight as you see fit. For peace and unity.”

  He took the chalices from Alec and bent low again, offering them both to Darius in a gesture of respect. Alec retreated into the shadows. Max, Luca and Flavia all remained still, watching every nuance of the performance being played out before them, unsure of what was coming next. Darius stepped close to Farzin. He could smell the vampire, his clothes, his boots and a strong, new cologne that Farzin had over-applied; a sickly, cloying smell that made Darius wrinkle his nose in distaste. He could see the flicker of his pulse in the side of his neck, the dilation of his pupils, and the subtle rise and fall of his chest. He knew this vampire from countless years and knew what he was capable of. Their relationship had never been exactly warm but Farzin had generally been courteous and respectful towards him, until this most recent series of events that so greatly affected the humans and them all.

  There was a small amount of blood in each of the ancient vessels, enough for them to drink a toast to peace and unity. Both were offered to him as Protocol dictated. He hesitated then reached for the one on his right and waited to drink it together, a time-honoured ritual to celebrate their sharing of the blood, their mutual respect and dependence, their brotherhood and survival in the face of human adversity. The vampire world had developed many such rituals over the aeons and all were observed closely and reverently.

  Farzin straightened, raised his own cup and saluted Darius, then put it to his lips and tilted his head back, closing his eyes in expectation of the surge of blood. When he finished his lips were stained red. Darius followed suit. He tilted his own towards Farzin in a gesture of respect and raised it, taking a long, deliberate sip and feeling the blood flow down the back of his throat.

  Only when he lowered it again did he catch the expression of glee and malice in Farzin’s eyes. He looked at his own chalice and the one that Farzin held. He had already drunk half of his whereas Farzin’s seemed not to have been touched. The warmth of blood flowed slowly and inexorably down his throat carrying with it an unusual burning sensation, filling his stomach with fire. It had a curious aftertaste, an oddly acidic property and a faintly unpleasant odour; an odour which Farzin’s new cologne had shielded from him, until now.

  “What have you done?” he choked, throwing the goblet down and clutching at his throat.

  “Blood of the infected, my liege.” Farzin was cackling, delirious with pleasure. “You have just drunk blood of the infected.”

  “But… you drank too?”

  “And how difficult is it to bite one’s own tongue and stain the lips with one’s own blood?” Farzin chortled.

  “Traitor.” The word came out in a hiss but lacked the sting that had accompanied it the day before.

  “You old fool, your time has come.”

  The burning in his stomach was intensifying and seemed to be spreading all around his body as his veins and arteries efficiently transported the tainted blood. He felt hot and wheezed for breath as the strength in his legs gave way. He tried to force himself to retch but it was too late, the blood was already working its way quickly through his system and beyond recovery, leading his body into an excruciating, spasmodic dance as he writhed upon the floor. He could feel his temperature rising slightly, his pulse quickening and a faint thumping in his head began to beat out a persistent rhythm as he sank to his knees, still clasping at his neck.

  There was a roar then as Max leapt forwards. He was absolutely apoplectic. He had never particularly taken to Farzin, there had always been something calculating in his demeanour and now the long, mistrustful years were unfortunately being vindicated. He struck the smaller vampire with an open hand and a snarl, dispatching him reeling and spinning away into a stone pillar. He was about to lunge again but Alec was upon him. He had crept forwards during the distraction and was within easy reach. He leapt from behind but Max felt his approach. He half turned and swatted him away like an irrelevant afterthought. Flavia now took an uncertain step towards him but again Max lashed out with the back of his fist sending her arcing through the air. With the other hand he slashed at Alec once more, leaving bloody marks across his cheek where his claws dug into the flesh, gouging them and leaving three slender slices of skin clinging to his treacherously sharp nails. Alec was knocked onto his back with a grunt. Max stood magnificent in his rage, towering over his adversaries, his chest heaving and eyes blazing.

  Farzin was on his feet already, throwing himself back at the enraged elder. He came at Max head on, bravely occupying his attention for a brief moment and suffered a similar fate to the first encounter. Max snatched hold of him and lifted him off his feet. Farzin was faster but the older vampire was just too strong and Farzin was unable to wriggle free from his crushing grip. Max span around and launched him across the nave and into a wall with a resounding crack.

  Now the two stricken vampires warily got to their feet and approached from either side. They were careful to keep out of range of Max’s lethal talons, their first taste was enough. Flavia had recovered from her own blow but now hung back, seemingly unwilling to re-enter the fray. Likewise Luca was rooted to the spot and had not moved to either aid or attack Max, a conflict of his own taking place internally as he wondered where Sebastian was and whether he would return in time.

  “Luca,” Max moaned, a plea as much as a
command.

  “Stand fast,” Farzin rasped at him, raising a finger and pointing accusingly at Luca. “This is not your fight. Yet.”

  Max turned now to Luca and uttered a single word. “Please.”

  Luca took a step towards Max when a slight stirring heralded an arrival. Luca turned, hoping and expecting to see Sebastian. Instead, the forms of Ricardo and the huge bulk of Simeon blocked the doorway and Farzin now sneered at Max.

  “Your end is nigh.”

  “Traitor!” Max hissed in retort as he stood over his Clan Leader’s twisting body, faithfully protecting him to the last. He swayed slightly and was hunched over like a silverback gorilla. His lips drew back revealing his teeth and his face was contorted with rage. His heavy forehead was furrowed and his eyes flashed menacingly, looking demonic in the flickering shadows.

  Even now if Sebastian were to return Luca felt sure they could present enough of a defensive proposition to make the attackers think twice. But with just the two of them there was absolutely no chance, now that the newcomers had entered the picture. His resolve weakened and he stood motionless, frozen in fear and indecision as Farzin again launched himself at Max.

  This time as he leapt he swiped and feinted to the side but dodged back and just out of reach as Max struck out at him. Max was not as fast but Farzin was now slightly off balance and Max quickly threw himself forwards. He grabbed hold and the two tumbled to the ground in a blur of frenetic activity. The elder vampire easily pinned him down and then ducked his head forwards, fangs bared in a fearsome snarl as he went straight for the neck; a bite that would rip his throat completely apart and may well end the altercation in an instant. With a screech Farzin grabbed at his face, trying desperately to keep those deadly incisors away. Only just in time Alec leapt to the defence of his master. He landed upon Max’s back and clubbed at his head. Each blow connected with vicious force and Max fell sideways. Farzin was the first back to his feet as they disentangled and he lashed out at Max’s face, just knocking him to the side and dodging away from his knotted, flailing hands. From the other side Alec also struck out with a boot and the two vampires started to rain down blows whilst being careful to avoid the deadly, grasping hands that alternated between defending and hitting out at them.