Empire of Blood: A Dystopian Vampire Trilogy (Bundle, Boxset) (Plus Two Empire of Blood Short Stories)

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Empire of Blood: A Dystopian Vampire Trilogy (Bundle, Boxset) (Plus Two Empire of Blood Short Stories) Page 2

by Robert S. Wilson


  He waited a moment, making sure he and the creature were alone for the time being. Several minutes passed while Hank tried to think above the racket of its hissing. He reached down and pulled out the machete. Just as soon as he pulled the machete upward, he brought it back down blade first, chopping the creatures head off. The head began squealing again, sputtering out some strange language Hank had never heard. He brought the blade up and back down again on one of its arms. Then the other. Then in one swipe, he severed both legs. The thing was obviously still alive, but it seemed unlikely he could do much to harm it. The head rolled to one side and continued squealing unintelligible words in a shrill, soprano voice. Hank took a deep breath as he used his fingers to wipe the blood from the machete. Then he made a sour face as he licked his bloody hand clean, making sure to quickly swallow the blood. He tried to ignore the worry of infection lingering in the back of his mind.

  He left the body and its severed extremities wiggling while he walked back to the end of the last aisle, the only one left standing. He put his machete in its sheath and took the flashlight from its prong on the shelf. With the flashlight ready, he went up and down the remaining aisle shining it at the shelves. He was looking for some kind of thermos. When he didn't find one, he was forced to pick up the other shelves one by one until he found what he was looking for. He grabbed two of them, a red one and a blue one. He also made sure to grab a backpack. Then he went back to where the creature lay on the floor in pieces. He put the blue thermos in the backpack while bending down to one of the thing's arms. Then he opened the red thermos, set it upright on the floor in front of him, and put its lid between his teeth. He picked up the arm, severed end facing down, and began to squeeze it over the thermos.

  The same dark liquid that he had wiped from his mouth poured into the thermos in a thin stream. When the stream became a light trickle, he shook out the last little bit and threw it aside. Then he took the lid from his teeth and screwed it back on the thermos tightly. He looked over at the arm and was surprised to see, unlike all the creature's other parts, it was lying still. He wondered if doing the same to the head would kill it. He was pretty sure it would be a good start, but decided he didn't have the stomach to find out.

  Then he put the red thermos in his backpack and got up. He looked around with his flashlight until he saw a sign that said RESTROOMS. He put on the backpack and then followed the sign to the men's room. The decrepit fluorescent tubes on the ceiling flickered a few times and then came to life, shining white light throughout the room. Hank let his hand fall from the light switch and walked over to examine the sink. There was a sort of rusty film collecting around the drain. He tried the cold handle first. Nothing. Then he tried the hot. Still nothing. The realization hit Hank that twenty years without artificial irrigation would dry out a desert town just a little bit. He felt a spell of panic coming on. He had expelled a lot of energy and his body was now ready to be hydrated. And what if there was no water to be found in the whole city? He rushed from the bathroom, turned on the flashlight, and spun around looking for any other doors. He saw one in the far front corner of the building beyond the open space where the metal shelving once stood. It said EMPLOYEES ONLY. He rushed toward it, found the doorknob was unlocked, and opened it.

  Inside three video screens displayed different angles of the sales floor. The various body parts of the thing twitched in one of the black and white screens. Shining the flashlight around, he saw several large shelves with items that never made it to the sales floor. In the middle of the room sat a small table with several ashtrays and magazines on it. A brown jacket sat over the back of a chair at the end of the table. Just beyond the table, Hank’s flashlight illuminated something big and white that filled Hank with hope. He ran forward, nearly knocking over the table and pulled the handle of the refrigerator open. The chill of cold, moist air hit him and he smiled as he looked inside. On the top shelf sat four twelve-packs of bottled water. The liquid inside sparkled at Hank. He fumbled one of the bottles from its plastic ring and twisted the cap off. He took a deep breath wondering if bottled water could go bad. Deciding that bad water was better than no water, he tossed his head back and took a long drink, some of the water spilling from his mouth and down his neck and chest. He was sure it was the best water he ever drank in his life.

  He looked beside the fridge with the flashlight and saw there were cabinets and a sink. He began opening cabinets looking for food. He found none, but instead found several plastic glasses and bowls. He took one of the bowls out, poured water into it, plunged his hands in, and began to scrub. He got out the blue thermos and unscrewed its lid, setting both on the table. It took three bottles to fill up the thermos. Then he grabbed one of the unopened twelve-packs and put it in the backpack as well.

  He put the backpack on and headed out onto the sales floor towards the living puzzle he had made. Then he angled his foot like a hockey stick beside the still-hissing head and began sliding it forward, covering the mouth and muffling its voice. The creature bit hard into Hank's shoe, but its fangs, blocked by the thick leather, came nowhere near his flesh. When he stopped and pulled the head from his shoe, it sat just within the lit-up portion of linoleum in front of where the aisles had been. One thing Hank did know, the vampires of Necropolis only came out at night for a reason. If this one didn't die from dismemberment, the sun would soon come up and finish the job anyway. Either way, with that done, Hank at least felt he could move on.

  Chapter 2

  The Mediator

  Simon Withers was very nervous sitting in the backseat of the Empire-assigned car. After all, it was his first day and not exactly the ideal job for anyone who happened to enjoy living. The inside of the car gave off that new car scent. He wondered if his driver had also driven the former Mediator. The former Mediator managed to stick it out for a whole six months. Simon was sure he would beat that. He always thought of himself as a save-the-day kind of guy. Nervous as he was, he would get over his fear and be the one to do it for the long haul. He looked out the car window at the dark abyss he knew would be sand as far as the eye could see by the light of the sun. Then he looked ahead at the blurry glow of garish neon signs that marked one of the most famous cities of all time. After the Empire cleaned up the mess left from the second civil war, the Emperor made an example of this city. Since it had flourished so deeply in sin before, now it would be the place of death for all who sinned.

  Simon smiled, relishing his part in such justice, and the tension lifted from his shoulders. What was there to fear when he stood as a representative of the American Empire of Almighty God? His smile grew, nearly wrapping around his head. A large, bright neon sign filled the top half of the windshield as the car began to slow. The sign said:

  "Welcome

  To Fabulous"

  The next two words, once written in bright red paint, were scribbled over with white, flaking spray paint but still faintly visible. In place of the scribbled-out city name in dark red, one word stood out written in sloppy letters: Necropolis, the name given to the city upon its rebirth by the vampires. Underneath, the final word was still mostly intact and lit up. It said Nevada. Their power taken by the Empire, names and borders were all that remained of the former states. Democracy could go, but you couldn't go taking away people's state pride. Simon was running his hands down the smooth leather of his seat when he felt the car come to a stop. Confused, he looked around outside. He had to lean way back in his seat to see the welcome sign that was now towering above the car.

  "Excuse me, driver, why are we stopped? We're not even in the city yet," he inquired.

  The driver tipped his hat to Simon in the mirror. "I'm sorry sir. Didn't anybody tell you? The Mediator alone is allowed access to the city… unharmed," the driver explained.

  Simon gripped at the seat, his nails digging into the leather, and sighed.

  "You mean I'm going to have to walk the rest of the way?" he said through his teeth.

  "Yes sir, I'm afraid so," th
e driver said, attempting to hide a smile.

  Simon gave the driver a nasty look in return. He opened his door slowly in a gesture of implied superiority. Then he got out, slamming the door and almost knocking himself backward in the process. He brushed at his clothes as if to clean himself of the car's filthiness and headed toward the city.

  "Um, sir? Aren't you forgetting something?" the driver’s scratchy voice said behind him. He turned to see the driver hanging his head out the window and looking smug. Simon stared at him with a blank expression. His patience for the driver had vanished hours before. The driver sighed and leaned over the passenger seat and opened the glove compartment. He pulled a thick folded white paper from within and sat upright, offering it to Simon through the open window. "Take it, it's the map to where you have to meet them," he said.

  Still angry, Simon stepped over to the car. He snatched the folded map from the driver without a word, turned, and started walking again. He staggered as he went, his leather dress shoes unwilling to accommodate him in such rough terrain. When he crossed the city line, he gritted his teeth as he heard the driver snickering behind him. He was beginning to wonder if his new boss, Ted Chambers, director of Vampire Negotiations, knew whom he was dealing with. Simon decided when the night was over, he would make sure he did.

  Simon fumbled the map from angle to angle trying to figure out where he was as he race-walked down the street. He was too spooked by the night and the quiet city to stop and give the map proper concentration. His hands trembled as he turned it over to see if maybe the other side would start making some kind of sense. Trying to read the street sign up ahead, he noticed just how much noise he’d been making. Now that he stopped moving, the rustling map echoed in his brain over the dead silence. He stood there a moment just listening. Eventually, the echoes died out and were replaced by what sounded like the steady beat of a bass drum. It scared him as it became faster, forcing him to realize it was actually his own heart beating. He took a deep breath, reminding himself he was the only human truly safe in this place. The thought calmed him, at first because of his safety. Then, it fed his ego, taming his heart even more. When he felt as relaxed as he could get, he took another look at the map. With his mind much clearer and his panic subdued, he quickly found where he was on the map. According to it, getting to the building where the vampire's held their council was just a straight walk from where he stood.

  He started walking again, this time not quite as aimlessly, now that he knew where he was and where he was going. Still a little nervous, he reached into the jacket pocket of his Armani suit and pulled out an unopened pack of cigarettes. He opened the pack, took one out, and lit it. Simon threw the plastic from the pack on the sidewalk and dragged deeply on the cigarette as he walked. He looked up at the brightly lit colorful buildings that took up the skyline ahead. He felt his chest loosen as the nicotine caused adrenaline to release through his body.

  He was actually starting to relax when in the wink of an eye a tall man with long black hair and red eyes, dressed in a black suit and bowler hat seemed to appear out of thin air right in front of him. He barely stopped himself from running into the man. When he managed to catch his balance, he immediately backed away. As he scrambled backwards, he fell on his backside and tried to scoot further away. The man looked down at him and smiled, revealing a mouthful of shiny white teeth complete with long sharp canines coming from the top row like the fangs of a dog. It was a human vampire.

  "I presume you are Mr. Withers?" the man said in a deep scratchy voice with an accent Simon couldn't quite place. Simon swallowed and cringed. His first time meeting one of these blood suckers and already he was panicking.

  "Y-yes. I am sir. And who... who might you be?" he asked.

  "My name is Luciano Sandalio. But I am of no importance. I am merely here to guide you safely to the tower," the man said while reaching his hand out to Simon. Simon reluctantly took the cold hand and felt a chill run up his arm and down his back as Luciano helped him effortlessly off the ground. Then he brushed off the back of his clothes, reached down, and picked up his cigarette that had landed on the edge of the sidewalk when he fell. He took another deep drag and threw it back on the ground and stomped it out.

  "Now, if you will follow me, this way, sir," Luciano said motioning ahead of himself with both arms.

  "If you don't mind me asking, why do I need a guide if it's just right up the street?" Simon asked.

  "Well, Mr. Withers, there has been a drop-off tonight from the Kansas City justice department and it seems there are still several convicts unaccounted for. So, I have been sent to make sure that you arrive safely," Luciano said casually, turning his back to lead the way.

  "Oh, I see." Simon said. He found himself looking around for felons hiding in the surrounding dark alleys as he followed the vampire.

  After a while of walking, the street curved to the right. As they came around the curve, Simon could see down the strip more clearly. Many of the buildings had busted old neon signs hanging all around them. Some of the buildings had large gaping holes where their front walls used to be. It looked as though several random explosions had gone off up and down the street. Piles of rubble lay just about everywhere Simon looked. The vampire stuck out his pale right hand and slid it on the top of a white smashed-up limousine as they walked past it. His hand would have been camouflaged against the white paint if it weren't for the reflection of multi-colored neon signs above.

  Simon found himself staring at the top of one of the buildings up the street. It appeared to be taller than the rest and came to a point at the top, like a giant scepter. He was pretty sure it was the "tower" that Luciano had referred to. There he would meet with the vampire council, which consisted of five human vampires. He had been prepped with information about the vampires for the past month. He learned that there are two types of vampires: natural vampires and human vampires, called "artificial vampires" by some. Natural vampires were completely inhuman. They were savage creatures with little intelligence. Human vampires more closely resembled the vampire of legend. Being once human, they could easily pass as human if they needed as they still mostly resembled their former selves. Simon knew little more than that. Prior to taking his job he had known even less. Even still, the government knew very little about them anyway. As most scientific research, particularly biological research, had been outlawed with the formation of the Empire, the government would probably continue to know very little for quite some time.

  Up ahead and to the left, the building that resembled a scepter towered up into the sky, as if it were a pillar holding up the heavens. Around the entrance were dozens of palm trees and a huge shattered neon sign along the wall of it that appeared to say "St_a_o_p_ere" with several unintelligible letters in between. Below the sign was a large, black video screen. Under the blank screen was a wide balcony lined neatly with tables and chairs for dining. Simon stood, staring up at the huge structure. The vampire, noticing that his follower had stopped, turned and looked at Simon.

  "The council awaits your presence, Mr. Withers," Luciano said. Simon snapped out of the spell the huge building put on him and smiled at his guide as politely as he could.

  "Sorry, I've never seen such a sight before. It's a little overwhelming," he said.

  The vampire did not reply but only turned and led the way through the left of two mouth-like openings at the bottom of the building. Then he opened a glass door and gestured for Simon to enter. Luciano held the door as Simon walked in. There was a deep chill in the air inside. The vampire led him to an elevator and pushed the up button with his bleach-white finger. A moment later, Simon heard a ding and the elevator door opened. The two got in and Luciano ran his hand down the myriad of buttons until it came to the very last and tapped it quickly. When the vampire moved his hand away from the button, Simon noticed that it was the 106th floor. He made a mental note to find out why no one had ever asked him if he was afraid of heights. He grabbed ahold of the railing tightly as the elevat
or raced upward. As he stood quietly in the elevator he noticed that the vampire didn't seem to breathe. He looked up and watched as the digital numbers changed to display the current floor. He was surprised to see that even though they were going what felt like a ridiculous speed to him, they had only just passed the 22nd floor. He took a deep breath and tried to think about something else.

  The vampire stood completely still before him and neither made a sound nor flinched. It were as if he were a statue. As the floor numbers slowly changed, Simon became nervous. He kept picturing his vampire escort turning around and lunging for his neck with those sharp fangs out. He knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn't help it. The elevator ride seemed to go on forever and it was his first accompanied by the undead. He looked at the back of his hands, following the visible veins up to his wrists. Then he popped his knuckles and his neck. When his neck would pop no more, he moved to something else. He lifted up onto his toes, held his heels up, and then set them back down over and over. Then he swung his arms from front to back. He almost started whistling when Luciano spoke.

 

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