The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith

by Clay; Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith

  Clark's gaze stayed focused on the barest glimpses of the ground he could see through the mist, but his mouth grimaced tightly. "Thanks to that Jap schoolteacher's map we supposedly know exactly where Adele is. She's on a high floor of the central tower. The gas should hang low. The princess will be fine until I get to her, which should be quickly." The senator touched a second gas mask, hanging from his belt, that he had brought for Adele.

  He then pinned a scathing glare at Stoddard. "Now get back on the line, Major. You worry like my grandmother, and she annoyed the hell out of me. And if you break operational silence again, I'll see you drummed out of the service."

  Stoddard stiffened, his lips pursed. He saluted sharply and returned to his squad at the far rail.

  Meanwhile, Captain Root huddled with the ship's officers studying an old map of London by the pale light of the binnacle. The frigate had slipped out of the clouds briefly to take bearings and had then drawn back above cover. The captain glanced at his gold pocket watch and motioned to the senator that he had five minutes before the suicide drop into the Tower grounds.

  Clark passed the word by hand signals to the ghostly grey Rangers in the mist. Gas masks were quickly fixed in place down the ranks of soldiers. At least the chief meteorologist had been accurate on the front again. They had patrolled off the coast for two days waiting for prime assault weather. And now the morning air was warm and wet. Fog was settling in at just the hour he had predicted. The shroud gas would hang for a long while. The commandos should be able to drop, retrieve the princess, and escape under cover.

  If this gamble succeeded, and Clark was confident it would, he would become the unquestioned leader of the American-Equatorian alliance. His name would go on top of a short list of men who had changed the destiny of civilization.

  Clark smiled.

  The warship's gasbags vented with a roar, and Ranger plummeted. Hearts leapt into throats and hands tightened on weapons and drop lines. The fog thinned, and grey stone buildings appeared perilously close to the airship's hull. Sails luffed and more gas jetted. Ranger went hard over to starboard. The grimy Thames rose into view above the rail.

  There was the Tower of London. Clark instantly noted the structure where Princess Adele was supposedly held. He was committed to the intelligence, but he still doubted the Japanese schoolmaster. If Adele was not in the right place, this drop would go very bad very fast.

  Ranger righted and nearly scraped the Tower's crenellated outer wall as it inched over the courtyard. Cannons along both sides fired with low thuds, sending canisters spiraling downward. The large cartridges exploded almost noiselessly, and a greasy black smoke began to roll out along the ground, winding around rubble and sliding along walls. The ship's fore and aft anchor guns whoomed and sent heavy spiked grapnels slamming into ancient stone walls. The frigate jolted to a dead stop.

  "Go!" Clark shouted, with his booted feet already on the mahogany rail. The whining of drop pulleys screamed through the heavy, moist air as American commandos with robotic faces plummeted to the occupied British soil.

  Senator Clark hit the ground, unbuckled and armed as he ran with tramping feet following him. There was no sign of vampires yet beyond distant blue figures bobbing lazily in the misty sky. Clark signaled one squad of red shapes to follow while the other held the base of the tower. Troopers swept through the doorway, hit the stone stairs, and curved upward.

  Now above the shroud gas, Clark smelled coal smoke. Good. Fire was a sign of captives. Maybe the schoolmaster was right after all. In which case, Clark would have to dig into Mamoru's intelligence network. It would not do to have such resources outside his control.

  The senator reached the top of the narrow staircase and kicked open the heavy plank door. He pulled down his gas mask. A dark, slender shape stood in the corner.

  Clark struck a pose and grinned. "My dear, I am your husband. Pleased to meet you!"

  "I think you're mistaking me for someone else," came the oily sibilant reply. A female vampire inched from the shadows. Other creatures came forward. "Your lovely has fled-"

  Her words were drowned out by a barrage of gunfire as the senator leapt out of the room.

  "Withdraw!" Clark yelled-unnecessarily, since his men were already shoving their way down the stairs with sharp shouts and cursing.

  Gunfire came from outside too. It was a trap.

  As he ran, the senator reached into his ammo pouch and drew out a metal egg shape-a shrieker. He fumbled with his finger and popped a ring away from the shiny surface. He pulled out a long, thin strip, launching the egg into a piercing scream. Clark dropped it on the steps and reached for a second one.

  Several commandos did likewise, and soon the close air of the Tower was electric with an ear-aching whine. It was uncomfortable to the men, but it was painful and disorienting for vampires. The female and her cohorts paused in their pursuit, confused and confounded by the sounds, their heads twisting in pain.

  The little devices were already winding down as Clark bounded from the Tower. The wreckage-strewn courtyard was chaotic with vampires dropping from above, striking and tearing at the soldiers. His men tossed more shriekers. Part of a squad had formed a square, firing up and out. Others ran for position, shooting and flailing with bayonets. The popping of marksmen's guns came from Ranger overhead.

  Cooling bodies of men were visible all around.

  "Withdraw in order!" Clark shouted hoarsely through the smoke.

  A high-pitched metallic scream began to pour from Ranger. Crewmen were wrestling the handles of massive shriekers bolted on the deck, slowly at first, but then turning them in a rhythm. As the screams grew, vampires whirled in the air as if hit by a concussion.

  Major Stoddard was struggling to maintain his ragged square as his squad shuffled in some order toward the tangle of drop lines. Guns fired. Green gunsmoke blended with the heavy black. Clark shouted orders from inside the formation. Shapes flashed past. Claws raked. Bayonets flashed. Men fell.

  Clark reached through the shroud gas cloud and found a drop line. He slung his carbine and clipped the pulley onto his belt. When he tugged the cable, he was instantly yanked off the ground. Other troopers around him flew up, trailing black mist. Even with the shriekers, vampires slipped past, banging into him, hissing and raking with their hands. He pulled his pistol and fired at the fluttering things around him.

  Strong hands lifted the senator over the rail back onto the deck of Ranger. He gagged from the shroud gas, and his ears throbbed as he watched the ship's surgeon asking him a question and reaching out for him. He shoved the doctor aside and resumed firing.

  Bloodied commandos flowed over the gunwales, assisted by airmen. Many fell to the deck unable to move, staining the wood red. Major Stoddard struggled back on board and gave a cast-off sign. Every soldier who could return had returned.

  Clark felt sick, but signaled to make way. Mooring lines were cut. Gas vents rumbled under the knife-edge squeal of the shriekers. The airship shot straight up. The senator's knees almost buckled from the jolt, but he kept his eyes locked on the female vampire on the roof of a tower below. She waved jauntily with one hand, but with the other she clutched the twisting body of one of his men.

  Ranger climbed above the clouds, where the unfurling sails bit the wind. The ship bucked and raced for the open sky. There was halfhearted pursuit, but vampires could not match the frigate's sleek pace.

  Major Stoddard came to Clark, who stared out into the orange clouds with a revolver dangling from his hand. "Sir, you should go below with the surgeon."

  "How many did I lose?"

  "Not sure yet. I'd reckon fifty."

  "Fifty!" Clark glared at his trusted junior officer. "Out of two hundred! Impossible, Major. How many vampires attacked us?"

  Stoddard replied, "It wasn't many, sir. I didn't count more than twenty or thirty. But they were good. If we hadn't had shroud cover, we'd have lost more."

  "Dammit!" The senator spat in disgust, but nodded in agreemen
t. "This didn't happen, Major. I do not intend to return to Equatoria until I make this not happen."

  "Do you think Her Highness's mentor misled you?"

  "I don't know. I think the princess was there, and recently. That room was set up for a human prisoner."

  Major Stoddard buckled against the railing and repeated in a strained voice, "Sir, you should see the doctor. Let him check you out. You could've been injured."

  Clark wiped gloved hands over his spotless tunic and laughed. Then he noticed Stoddard wavering on his feet. The major's tunic was shredded across the midsection. Bloodstains covered his chest and trousers. Deep incisions laid open the flesh of his stomach.

  "Doctor!" Clark snapped. "Lend a hand to Major Stoddard here. Slap a bandage on that. We've got work to do."

  Pain was the only sensation available to Adele. Her world was black. She couldn't be sure if she was awake. Dust clogged her nostrils and caused a coughing fit that made her body ache all over. She shoved a hand out to right herself. It slipped on something round and smooth and wet. Stifling a groan, she pushed it aside and sat up in a couple of inches of water. Her limbs were still attached and not broken thankfully, though they all throbbed fiercely.

  Looking up, she tried to determine how far she had fallen, but only the barest of shadows showed above her. Her hands fumbled and grasped rotten wood that disintegrated into near pulp in her fingers: the remains of stairs, decayed with the passing of time, that had fallen with her, coating her clothes. She was lucky she hadn't broken her neck.

  Hands flung out again, searching for her halberd, scattering both ballshaped and long, thin objects, but finally Adele found what she sought. A small gasp escaped her as her finger pressed too hard on the blade's edge, causing a small slice into her flesh. She drew back immediately and stuck the finger in her mouth till the dirt made her gag. She was about to wipe the blood on her skirt when she paused. Vampires smell blood, even as little as this. Smearing some on her clothes was folly. She ripped a bit of her undergarment and used the small piece to wrap her finger. She could discard the scrap once the bleeding had stopped.

  Adele was desperate to know where she was so she could keep terror at bay. Survival wasn't just about knowledge and skill; it was about sanity. Mamoru had impressed that on her. Cold, stiff fingers found one of the round objects that littered the ground nearby. Blindly, she gently caressed the features of what she held, her brain trying desperately to puzzle it out. She peered closer at the object as her fingers found hollows and breaks, as if by sheer willpower she could bring this thing to light.

  Then a cold chill of fear found her that displaced the numbness drawn from the cold water around her. She knew what she held in her hands-a human skull. There were a great number of them all around her. She had stumbled into a tomb. Only it was more than a tomb; it was a mass grave.

  The skull tumbled from Adele's hands into the water. The young princess didn't want to be down here another minute. There had to be a way out. She began to explore the small dimensions her world had been reduced to. Hands reached into the dark in an attempt to gather information. She felt more of the objects that she recognized as human debris. Skulls and femurs and smashed rib cages were all around. She didn't know which terrified her more, touching something solid or touching nothing at all.

  Long, agonizing moments of effort gave Adele what she needed to know. She was in a tunnel of some sort, about seven or eight feet in diameter. She could stretch out her arms and almost touch both sides. The walls were made from overlapping circular pieces of iron.

  Adele had fallen into one end of the tunnel and had no way back up. The stairs were gone, and the walls didn't seem to provide handholds for climbing. Her only option was to follow the tunnel wherever it led. There was no help coming.

  The water at Adele's feet was icy, but shivers racked her body and, along with the tremendous amounts of adrenaline, warded off the worst of her chills. A stroll should warm her further. The water grew deeper as she traveled the tunnel. She surmised that she was walking under the Thames. This must have been a foot tunnel that fell out of service long ago. Humans had been trapped inside when the vampires invaded and were slaughtered. Or maybe they had tried to hide here during the occupation and had died waiting for salvation that never came. Adele longed for daylight. Her every sense was straining to see, hear, or feel. She endured an oppressive fear, as if something were just about to seize her, but she knew she must either find an end and escape or go mad in the darkness with the dead.

  Something long, cold, and sharp brushed against the side of her face and pulled gently at her hair, like a cobweb's sticky touch. She flung an arm out wildly. Something skittered on the ceiling like nails on chilled steel. Abruptly Adele felt the touch again on the other side of her cheek; this time it drew a nail sharper across her flesh, extracting blood.

  She screamed and struck out with the halberd. The blade whistled through the rancid air and elicited a hissing from a large object above her, though she knew she had not struck it. A vampire. But its hissing was not language like other vampires. It was guttural and formed no words. Adele froze in the ankle-deep water. There was more scuffling above her, and she slashed again without connecting. She strained to see in the blackness. This thing was toying with her. It could kill her at any time. It had all its senses, even in this night.

  Suddenly two long bony hands seized her neck from above, lifting her off her feet. With choking breath, she twisted and kicked, hoping to break its grip. Its nails dug deep into her throat, cutting any sound she could utter save a strangled whimper. With both hands clutching the halberd, she stabbed up in a straight thrust. This time blade met bone.

  The grip on Adele's neck lessened. One rough hand still clutched her, while the other pulled at the halberd stuck in the beast's belly. The princess twisted the handle so that the blade tore through the vampire's innards. Suddenly she was falling, and she hit hard. The halberd tumbled from her grasp. With a desperate cry, she fumbled through the garbage-filled water for her weapon.

  Then there was a splash behind her and her hair was roughly seized, sharp nails scraping her scalp. Her head was jerked back, exposing her throat. Adele screamed, and listened to the echo of her voice as it resounded through the tunnel. Instead of fighting to pull away, she thrust herself back into the vampire and landed atop the thing. They rolled in the water, clawing at each other. To her shock it was naked. It was hairy and terribly lean. It was a savage, not at all like the "civilized" creatures that lived off the remnants of humanity. This was a true animal.

  The princess drove her elbow into its face; its fang ripped into her skin, and a grunt showed that the blow had some effect. She leapt to her feet, but it grabbed her skirt and flung her off her feet once again, her chest slamming against the floor. A strong yank pulled her back through the water, her open mouth filling with the sour stuff. Her hands scraped at the floor, desperate for a handhold. What she found instead was a divine providence.

  Adele twisted onto her back and swung two-handed the recovered halberd with all her body strength. The invisible arc of the weapon sang in the tunnel. Only a sickening squishing sound and the slightest hint of resistance on the blade told her she had struck true. Then something splashed beside her, and she could feel a round object bob beside her leg.

  The creature's head. At least part of it.

  A moment later the torso collapsed on top of her. Adele thrashed wildly to be free of it, but its dead weight and her exhausted muscles made it difficult. The way it flopped around seemed to give it new life, though her brain insisted that it was truly dead. Finally she pushed free and scrambled to the side of the tunnel, where she sat gasping. The dripping water from her hair felt like cold tears on her face.

  Adele shivered uncontrollably. Her hand lifted to gently touch her burning cheek and slid down to check her throat, which ached horribly, especially when she swallowed. She could feel raw skin, but the damage didn't seem major. She counted herself as fortunate to have
survived at all. The vampire had had every advantage being able to see in the dark, while its victim could not. It had underestimated her, which was the sole reason she still lived.

  Adele's strength was gone; exhaustion beat at her, and every bruise and wound ached within her. She had to escape this place now, while she still had energy. If one feral vampire had found refuge here, so might a dozen more. Rising unsteadily, she balanced herself against the wall and took shuffling steps forward. Then she stopped. She didn't know which direction she'd been heading. The fight had twisted her around so many times that she was no longer sure. A curse dropped from her lips.

  Calm down, she thought angrily. You've got a fifty-fifty chance at worst. There was no light in either direction. Pick one. Adele took a deep breath and started off.

  Hours seemed to pass. To Adele's relief the water began to recede a bit and she seemed to angle slightly upward. Finally she bumped into something solid. Grime-crusted fingers felt a wooden structure.

  Stairs. She had found stairs. The path she had chosen had been the right one. There was no water at her feet, so she hoped that the wood had not rotted through like the other end. It held her weight as she slumped against it, without so much as a shiver or a scattering of dust from above. Perhaps luck was still with her.

  Trembling hands grasped the handrails. With a deep breath she took her first step, and it held. Then another and another. It took every ounce of patience not to rush up to the top. She kept her pace slow and steady, listening all the while. Her fingers felt every nuance of the stairs in an effort to predict if the structure would fail under her.

  It took a few minutes before she realized the blackness was turning grey. Shapes formed in her vision. The darkness was receding. Daylight crept in through cracks above and cast its rays in her direction. Her blindness was at an end.

  CHAPTER

  D CLAWED HER way into daylight. The lifeless air outside side was almost clean after the cloying stench in the tunnel. As she got her bearings, she saw vampires were moving about. The princess could only hope that she looked as ragged and dejected as she felt, because she needed to appear like the rest of her subjugated kind. She stumbled, partly on purpose and partly in true exhaustion, as she trudged eastward.