The Terminus experiment s-34

by Jonathan E Bond

  Before she could complete the maneuver, de Vries’ hands shot out, gripping heron both sides of the head. Driving the hapless vampire back against the wall, de Vries rammed his thumbs into her eye sockets, burying them deep into the brain.

  The female vampire howled, and Sinunu watched as the life seemed to drain out of her, along with the blood that spurted from her ravaged eye sockets to trail down her scarred face.

  De Vries pulled his thumbs free and turned to look Sinunu in the eye. He wiped fluid and tissue from his hands on the female vampire’s skin as she sank to the floor.

  He winked at Sinunu, then nodded to the vampire Flak had downed. “You might want to stick that one. He’s about ready to come back around.”

  Head spinning from what she’d just witnessed, Sinunu nodded back and fired a bolt into the body of the prone vampire. She made sure to miss the spikes, which she could now tell were deeply imbedded into the man’s skin. He convulsed once, then was still.

  There was silence in the hallway for the briefest instant, then Flak’s gruff voice came over the com. “All right, kiddies. Looks like the drek is going to hit the fan in a very serious way, so let’s keep things chilly and by the numbers.”

  Without a word, everybody formed up again. Sinunu looked at the crossbow with disgust. She’d thought it would be the perfect weapon to use against vampires, but now it seemed more like a useless toy.

  She tossed the bow onto the dead man’s body and was about to turn away, when a small hand touched her arm. It was Rachel.

  “I don’t mean to tell you your business, but don’t you think you should keep that?”

  Anger bled through Sinunu’s voice. “Why? It’s useless.”

  Rachel nodded. “Maybe for direct confrontation, but if we’re going to get out of here alive, direct confrontation might not be the way to go. Besides, even if you just use it for sticking them once the vampires are down, you won’t have to get so close to them to do it.”

  Sinunu looked at her for a moment, and then let out a shaky laugh. “Well, well, well. Being given lessons by a newbie.” She shook her head and reached down to retrieve the crossbow. “Looks like Flak was right about you.”

  Sinunu watched as Rachel flushed slightly, her eyes lighting up with a strange gleam.

  “Okay,” came Sandman’s voice over the tacticom, “now you’ve done it. You got enemy converging on you from all points. Take the right corridor as fast as you can.”

  Sinunu grabbed Rachel and began hustling her down the hall. At the end of it was a doorway marked “Stairs.” She was just throwing it open, when a howl came from behind her.

  “It’s party time!” yelled Flak, “Let’s show these bastards we’ve come with our boogie shoes on.”

  The quiet corridor filled with roaring gunfire.

  Sinunu pushed Rachel into the stairwell, then turned, letting the door close behind her.

  At first guess, she might have estimated twenty vampires streaming down the hallway, but because of how fast they were moving, it could have been twice that number.

  The vampires seemed to come in all shapes and sizes, most of them human, but she could make out two orks and a stubby dwarf who seemed to be having a hard time keeping up with the rest of their companions. If what she remembered was correct, vampiric dwarfs should look like goblins, and vampiric orks were huge, white-furred monsters. These, except for the cyber on some of them, still looked like orks and dwarfs. She just hoped they died the same way regular vampires did.

  She had just started to move forward, when the vampires ran full speed into Flak and de Vries. The sound was like a small clap of thunder.

  The first vampire was a gangly human boy, who looked fifteen at most, but who attacked with utter abandon, fingers curled into claws reaching for the troll’s eyes and driving Flak back for a moment. Catching both of the boy’s hands in one of his massive paws, Flak used his free hand to pull the kid’s head from his shoulders in a gout of blood that blinded the vampire coming up behind.

  De Vries had managed to snag one of the two orks, a dark-haired woman with knobby, scarred skin. She had come to a stop just in front of him, and Sinunu could have sworn the creature was still trying to get off a spell when de Vries pulled out her heart.

  Whatever the spell had been went off in the wrong direction, blowing the woman’s body apart, and sending a sheet of flame back toward the other vampires.

  Vampire bodies began to come apart in the fire, but it didn’t touch all of them.

  Sinunu watched as the dwarf stumbled through the flames and the dying vampires. He shook his grizzled head and tamped out the part of his red beard that had caught fire. He was past de Vries and Flak, who were playing clean-up, and in a moment, he focused on Truxa.

  Roaring, he leapt for her throat, spurs pushing from his forearms and shins.

  Sinunu fired her MP-5 and saw the leaping dwarf’s face come apart under the force of the blow. Truxa knelt gracefully as the dwarf, suddenly without direction, sailed over her head.

  As the thing hit the floor, Sinunu stepped forward and kicked it in the side of the head with all the strength she had. The head snapped to the side and she heard the sound of its neck breaking, even over the noise of the fighting.

  Sinunu was just about to head back to the fray when she heard shots in the stairwell. Cursing, she swung back to the doorway and crashed through it.

  There were six of them, three vampires up the stairwell, three below. And they were advancing.

  She saw Rachel standing with her back to the wall, the huge Manhunter in her right hand and the smaller LD-120 in her left. Her face was surprisingly calm as she sighted first on the closest of the vampires above her and fired the Manhunter, which roared in the enclosed space.

  The bullet tore open the vampire’s throat, even as it tried to dodge.

  Without even waiting to see if she’d hit, Rachel switched her aim to the LD-120, which was sighted at the vampires below her, and fired.

  With a small popping sound compared to the Manhunter’s roar, the bullet from the smaller gun ripped into the vampire’s head, spraying bone and blood on the two vampires behind.

  Sinunu put her back to the wall beside the other girl. Without taking her eyes from her task, Rachel said, “Head shots are about the only thing that seems to slow them down. Anything less, and they just keep coming.”

  “Sin,” came Sandman’s voice on the tacticom. “Get past the guys on top. If you can, you got a pretty clear shot to the surface”

  “Six clear!” Flak shouted through the doorway. “Activity on twelve” said Sinunu, as she and Rachel simultaneously fired, Sinunu at the top vamps, Rachel at the bottom. Rachel was using both pistols at the same time now.

  Then de Vries was there, standing in the doorway to Sinunu’s right. Striding forward, like some evil god, he laughed. “My brothers, you have been deceived. Let these two pass. They are nothing to you. The one who deserves your hatred is the man who created you. Turn your hunger on him.”

  Sinunu knew he was trying some kind of spell, and for a moment she thought it might work. The vampires hesitated, hissing, their dead eyes filled with something that Sinunu could only read as fear and respect.

  Then the lead vampire snarled and leapt at de Vries with a howl. The vamp never even came close. De Vries made a casual pass with one hand, and it was like invisible blades slashing through the air, slicing into the approaching vampire’s flesh, cutting through bone. The vampire quickly came apart in a cloud of black blood and tissue.

  De Vries turned to Sinunu, and with a small smile said, “Well, it was worth a try, and it should have worked. These vampires are being controlled somehow.”

  With that move, the rest of the vampires attacked in force. Suddenly, the high whine of the Vindicator rolled through the narrow stairwell as Flak joined the fray. Deafening thunder shattered the quiet.

  Pieces of vampire flesh flew everywhere, splattering the walls and stairs. The Vindicator tore them to pieces. As
a group, the runners moved up the stairway, Truxa and Sinunu taking the lead.

  “Bad news,” came Sandman’s voice over the tacticom. “Your boys have managed a flanking maneuver somehow.” He sounded concerned. “They’re waiting for you just at the top of the next landing.”

  “Beautiful,” muttered Truxa, then turned to look up at Sinunu. “You tag them, I’ll bag them.”

  22

  The only thing more amazing than the quantum leaps we’ve taken in advancing technology are the advances promised by our researches into the possibility of combining technology and magic. I foresee a future where the line between the two will blur to the point of indistinction We stand on the brink of the next great leap in evolution.

  –

  Oslo Wake defending his use of metahuman subjects before Board of Ethics and Review, Universal Omnitech, New York City. Transcript #ETH678, p. 892, 21 September 2051

  Julius felt the Mobmaster’s rigger rev the big engine, cranking up its speed to ram the oncoming barrier.

  “Brace for impact” yelled Julius.

  The Mobmaster hit the reinforced steel gate of the Hell’s Kitchen compound and ripped it off its hinges. Rolling over the tire shredders that popped up, the Mobmaster’s runflat tires took no notice.

  The huge vehicle rocked gently as explosions shattered stone formations to the left and the right, raining deadly shrapnel against the unyielding sides of the truck.

  “Our deckers report land mines coming active!” yelled Biggs. “This ride’s about to get bumpy.”

  Julius looked out the window at the distinctive shapes of miniguns along the fence line. He turned to Biggs. “Why aren’t they using the miniguns?”

  Biggs shook his head for a moment, then looked up. “Decker says they’ve been taken off line. He doesn’t know why but he can’t get to them. He’s been locked out.”

  Julius nodded. He’d have preferred to be able to use miniguns for his own ends, but as long as the bad guys couldn’t use them either, he’d take what he could get. He looked over his shoulder at the men standing behind him, hanging on to the support eyelets.

  “Gun rigger, fire at will,” Biggs said, rapping out orders over the tacticom, sending them directly to each soldier’s helmet. “Mages, establish astral recon. Prepare spirits for combat. Infantry, we disembark in three.”

  The Mobmaster rocked more violently as the rigger accelerated, rolling over as many land mines as he could. The Mobmaster could withstand damage that would have disabled, if not destroyed, the lighter trucks following. Explosion after explosion lit up the night, and for the first time, Julius got a good look at what they were up against.

  “Holy mother of God” Julius breathed.

  From behind him, he heard the gun rigger yell. “What in the hell are those things?”

  Julius continued to look out the window, but said loudly. “Keep it steady. They’re just heavily modified troops. Keep a rock on back there.”

  The gun rigger yelled his affirmative, sounding a bit calmer. These men had seen heavy mods on troops before, and even though the things coming toward them were so far beyond the pale they were into the black, Julius knew his men would adjust.

  “Recon, give me a count!” Biggs shouted.

  From inside his headset, Julius heard the rigger piloting the recon drone say, “Thirty, at least, not counting the animals. I’d say we’re running against fifty targets.”

  Sounds of gunfire filled the air as the gunners at the Mobmaster’s.50 caliber guns and autocannons let go. Julius watched as the closest figure exploded, the big rounds cutting it in half and sending the two separate sections sprawling away from each other.

  The Mobmaster slowed a bit as it rounded the first curve, and that was all it took.

  A scream from the top gunner was the first sign that the monstrous things had managed to swarm up the back of the truck.

  Julius turned to the back just in time to see a metal hand, more a collection of curved razors than a hand, slice through the Mobmaster’s armor.

  “Down!” Julius shouted, lifting his chopped Remington twelve-gauge. He sighted at the metal hand’s wrist joint, and pulled the trigger.

  The roar in the cabin was deafening, but the weapon’s solid-core slug took the hand off at the wrist, then flattened itself against the Mobmaster’s armored wall. The hand skittered across the floor, bouncing against one of the men’s feet. With a look of disgust, the man kicked the still twitching thing away from him.

  “You all right, Charlie?” asked Riggs.

  “I’m fine,” the top gunner shouted, “but you got about six stowaways weighing you down.”

  Biggs]ooked at Julius, who said, “Fry them.”

  “Everybody clear!” yelled Biggs, just before he stroked the small icon on the Mobmaster’s touchscreen console.

  There was a crackle, and the Mobmaster’s power cut out for a moment, as ten thousand volts rippled through the vehicle’s conductive shielding.

  Screams from the rear of the vehicle spoke of the shock’s effectiveness.

  They made the next curve in the road, and the rigger hit the accelerator again, bringing the huge truck up to ramming speed.

  Directly in front of the Mobmaster, another massive, wrought iron gate loomed five meters off the ground. Reinforced with concrete and steel girders, it looked forbidding and impenetrable.

  “Trucks two through five, report,” said Julius.

  “Two, rolling.”

  “Three, rolling.”

  “Four, rolling, but Five is gone. Request permission to back up and locate them.”

  “Recon,” said Julius.

  “Recon here.”

  “Give me status on Citymaster Five.”

  There was a pause, then, “It looks like they hit a mine, just inside the perimeter. They’re stalled, and they’ve got six targets converging.”

  The gate rushed rapidly toward them as the rigger pushed the Mobmaster to its limit.

  Julius spoke again. “Copy, Citymaster Four. Regroup with five and keep our back door open.”

  “Brace yourselves,” said Biggs.

  They hit the fence, guns blazing, the front scoop of the Mobinaster ripping through the heavy metal like it was paper.

  The fence top smashed down onto the roof of the truck, cracking the bulletproof glass. Then it bounced high, describing a long arc up and to the left, where the hinges finally gave away, sending the fence flying off into the night.

  Julius caught one glimpse of it, as it sheared off a light pole at the base, plunging the near area into darkness. All around them, the darkness seemed to be moving. Undulating and swaying like a field of tall black grass on a moonless night.

  Julius switched his helmet to infrared. The crimson-tinged view was not much clearer, but at least now he could see them. Crowds of creatures, their IR silhouettes dim and twisted, impregnated by cold cyber.

  Julius only got a glimpse, but it was enough to send fear down his spine like an icy razor.

  “Recon here, Mobmaster One. It looks as if the fifty targets are getting some reinforcements from the compound.”

  “Check,” said Julius. “Begin your aerial attack now. Mages, let’s turn up the heat.”

  Then the things were on them.

  23

  Vampires feed on more than just blood: it is the actual life energy of the victim that sustains them. The bloodletting is just the simplest way to extract that life energy. As a vampire feeds, the energy that sustained the victim is transferred to the vampire, infusing him with strength and well being.

  –

  Martin de Vries, Shadows at Noon, posted to Shadowland BBS, 24 May 2057

  Sandman had been right. They had reached the next landing and all hell had broken loose. The runners had blasted their way through vamp after vamp, until they were almost to the top.

  Just then, a huge woman who looked as if her entire body was covered with grease, and who hung by her feet from the railing above, reached down with her massiv
e hands to grasp Rachel by the armpits and pull her upward.

  Flak shouted a warning, but a moment too late. Rachel was suddenly lifted off the floor, pain wracking through her rib cage.

  She looked up, wondering how this immensely fat woman could possibly be hanging that way. She didn’t have much time to wonder, because the woman opened her mouth in a vicious grin, showing stained fangs. Rachel could smell the vampire’s charnel-house breath and nearly retched.

  That mouth came closer and closer, and for a moment, Rachel thought this was it. She was going to die, and she was going to let everybody down.

  Rachel, the pistol! Use It!” Sinunu screamed at her.

  Suddenly jerked back into focus, Rachel kicked back with her legs, which let her bring up her right arm.

  The hot barrel of the Manhunter fit nicely into the vampire’s mouth.

  Rachel pulled the trigger twice, then suddenly both she and the fat woman were falling back toward the stairs.

  She knew she would be crushed under the woman’s huge weight, and tried to spin, tried to maneuver but it was no use.

  Out of nowhere, a giant arm wrapped around her. It was Flak pulling her to his blood-soaked chest. “Gotcha,” he said, as the fat vampire hit the ground with a thud and started to roll down the stairs. De Vries stopped the body with one booted foot, as easily as if he were stopping a rolling ball.

  “Nicely done dear,” said de Vries, as he drove his fist deep into the woman’s chest and pulled out her black, ichor-slick heart.

  Gunfire sounded from above, and Flak was gone.

  Rachel moved as fast as she could around the turn in the stairs and slipped in the dark, vampire blood covering the floor. She would have gone down, except for a strong hand catching her again. She turned, and found herself looking into the cold, dead eyes of Martin de Vries, He had a small, sad smile on his face. “Careful there. The footing is bad and going to get Worse.”

  They were on the top landing, and ready to make the assault into the hallway that would lead them to loading dock number four. It was the closest dock to the front entrance, which Sandman reported as under assault by troops who looked like they were military. At the very least, they had equipment that bespoke a bigger budget than anybody but Lone Star could bring to bear.