The Blood of the Infected (Book 1): Once Bitten, Twice Die

by Antony Stanton

  Standing behind Darius in the shadows by the wall was Luca, Darius’s protégé, and potentially the future Clan Leader. He shifted uneasily as the atmosphere became heavy with hostility. He glanced briefly at the vampire standing beside him, seeking some kind of reassurance. Max was Darius’s closest confidant. He was not as tall as Darius but unusually for a vampire his chest was broad and his somewhat hairy arms were stout and knotted like an ancient tree. He was at least as old as Darius but he had never sought to become Clan Leader, happy instead to remain subservient. He had the same aquiline features common to many old vampires whose bodies have altered subtly over time and through repeatedly feeding on human blood. His dark eyes were deeply set beneath bushy eyebrows, his teeth were slightly stained and there were deep scars across his pale face. He wore a dark blue jumper with the sleeves rolled up as though ready for manual labour - or action. His grey trousers and black boots were all unfussy and more for practical rather than sartorial reasons. He stared expressionlessly at Farzin and his cohorts, assessing their disposition and preparing himself lest the argument should turn violent. Lately Farzin had become more insolent, like a young buck testing the leader, and Max could foresee confrontation looming. He looked at Darius, his sharp nails digging deeply into the leather on the arms of the chair and slowly shredding it as he rose from the seat.

  “No. Once we emerge unto the sunlight there is no return to the shadows of myth and fable. When we stake our claim for our place at the head of this emerging world we must be absolutely certain that the time is right.”

  “You spend too long hidden away here procrastinating,” Farzin replied. “You have no idea what has been going on out there in recent days. The time is now. We can determine the way forward and then negotiate from a position of power.”

  Darius slammed his hand down on the chair’s arm causing it to crack. “No! I have decided. We wait.”

  On Farzin’s right Flavia stirred and placed a calming hand tentatively upon his shoulder. As a female vampiress she was shorter than the males, but she still stood 6’4” in her black, heeled boots that reached just over the knee. She wore black, leather trousers that were so smooth and tight they were mirror-like in their reflectivity, beneath a corset-style top with lace trim like something that might have been sported in the aisles of the Moulin Rouge. The corset was close-fitting and tied at the front by thick, black string, and merely served to accentuate her curves. Despite the inevitable slimming and shedding of excess weight through the vampyric passage of time, she maintained a very feminine figure which her outfit only exaggerated, hinting at the voluptuousness she must have displayed whilst still human, many years previously. This had been an attribute she had used to her advantage while working in bawdy, French, backstreet hostelries before she was ‘turned’, and it was a feature still appreciated in her life now. Her hair was jet-black like the unfocussed eyes of the insane and cut short at the back with the sides layered to the same level as her sharp chin. Her cheeks were pronounced in an attractive manner that many a human female would envy, and her blue, feline eyes seemed at odds with the darkness of her mane. Unlike the male vampires, her lips were still fairly full and she applied deep red lipstick and dark eye shadow. The effect was very attractive and unashamedly vampish.

  She regarded Farzin out of the corner of her eye. He had been unpredictable of late and he was now becoming incensed. This argument was going nowhere, she thought, and best delayed till another time. She spoke to him in soothing tones with the sing-song accent of the French.

  “Come, my love, we have done all we can for now. Let us not push this further tonight.”

  Darius caught the last words in both sentences and their significance was not wasted on him. He wondered whether Farzin would be less confrontational if he were not trying to please the female stood beside him. We are so different from the humans we once were in so many ways, he thought to himself, yet still so alike. He had ill forebodings about the influence Flavia had over Farzin. She may not deliberately have tried to manipulate him but the fact that she was the only female amongst six males, and clearly bestowed with a flirtatious nature, inevitably led to tensions. Did Farzin perhaps act differently in order to keep her allegiance? The vampire to their left, Alec, was less of a threat. Slighter than Farzin and more placid and predictable, he was dressed simply in pale grey trousers, a white shirt and brown pumps. His emotionless eyes shifted uneasily and he sneered unconsciously as he shifted from foot to foot. Darius thought he would perhaps be reluctant to become involved in an actual physical struggle. Perhaps…

  “This conversation is not yet over Darius. This is too important to me, to us all, to get it wrong,” and with that Farzin span and fluidly strode from the room, arms held out at his sides with open hands as though stirring the air in his wake.

  Flavia paused a moment, pouting as she glared at Darius, her chest heaving with intent. She quickly measured the demeanour of all three vampires standing poised in front of her, an instantaneous and instinctive action, before she too turned and stalked like a cat, following the other two from the room. As she reached the door she glanced towards the corner where another figure sat quietly on his haunches, hugging his knees and calmly observing the proceedings. She looked into Sebastian’s eyes and held his gaze a moment. Her lips parted in a slight sneer, or perhaps smirk - it was not clear, but her expression did not hold the venom that she had shown towards Darius. If it came to it, she wondered, whose side would Sebastian take? He had always been an enigma to her. Normally she could predict men and their transparent thoughts so easily. Although this one should, in reality, be easier than any of them, she could not decipher him at all. Maybe that was why he held such fascination for her. A soft, rasping sigh like a purr escaped her, then she was gone leaving a breathless vacuum in the room. Sebastian had calmly watched the entire exchange, just as now he watched her with intrigue as she departed, his thoughts shadowing her closely from the room.

  Darius had noticed the brief look between them and wondered at its significance. For a second or two he sat holding his grey head in his hands and no one moved. The hush was uncomfortable and made them all feel on edge. Sebastian frowned slightly as he noticed Max’s reluctance to say anything before his leader. His complete subservience puzzled and frustrated Sebastian. In his opinion loyalty was an admirable quality, but rare is the ruler who does not benefit from a second perspective. So they waited until finally the Clan Leader slowly stood and drew himself up to his full imposing height, taller than any of them and decidedly striking. He was possessed of innate gravitas; the others naturally deferred to him and revered him. His council was accepted usually without question, his word taken as binding, and hence to query him thus seemed highly unusual to Sebastian. This made Farzin’s outburst all the harder to accept. Darius stretched as though he had just woken from a deep sleep and everyone in the room shifted and stirred.

  “I have grave misgivings about the future,” he said turning first to Max. “Our path is no longer clear to me and that is the not the last we have heard on the subject.”

  “Hmmm,” Max looked disturbed. “These recent changes have come upon us with little warning and, as amongst the humans, we deal with them in our individual ways. Whilst our greater life span does permit us to be somewhat more patient, nevertheless we still retain many basic human traits.”

  “Indeed,” rumbled Darius, “and when threatened, like all species of the animal kingdom, we strike out impetuously.”

  Sebastian noticed a frown crease Luca’s brow as he opened his mouth to say something but quickly changed his mind. As though sensing the internal dilemma Darius turned to meet his look with an enquiring arch of his thick eyebrow but Luca merely lowered his head and shrugged.

  “And what do you think…” Darius turned and stared out into the room, “…Sebastian?”

  Sebastian had remained impassive on his haunches, regarding the scene from the shadows in the corner but now he stood. The clothes he wore were more conve
ntional than the others, reflecting his younger years, the comparative recency of his turning and the fact that he had not yet relinquished some of the mores and values from his life as a human. The shirt was fitted, pale linen but the ends hung loosely outside his dark jeans. He wore a black, mid-length, leather jacket and black, slip-on ankle boots.

  In modern day London Sebastian would not have stood out as much as the others in the clan. As he was relatively newly vampyric his features had only just started to alter. He was tall and under close inspection one might have noticed the slight angulations of his face, but these changes were as yet still subtle and merely looked like good bone structure as often seen in Slavic people. He was paler than he had been before, but since he was of Mediterranean stock and somewhat olive-skinned, he now looked a fairly normal shade amongst the fairer skinned British. His eyes had become strikingly piercing but this would only be viewed as strange, rather than supernatural. On passing him in a shady back street at night a more perceptive person might have unconsciously noticed something unusual and turned, only to find he had vanished into the gloom, leaving the observer walking a little faster and checking repeatedly over their shoulder, unsure as to what had triggered the spectre to pass over their mind, their pulse to quicken or their hackles to raise.

  At Darius’s question he cleared his throat as he stepped forwards. “I think that we have waited this long to come out of the shadows, I am not so impetuous that I cannot wait until the time is exactly right.”

  “Diplomatically put,” Darius replied with a curious smile. “You are the most recent member of our clan. You were a human long after I had been turned. What approach do you think best?”

  Sebastian was indeed the newest member and as such he was surprised to be consulted before Luca. He paused, still looking at the floor, then raised his eyes and held the hard stare of Darius. He could see truth in what Darius said, but perhaps Farzin also had a point. Time was indeed running out and Darius had barely set foot outside the church where they had sheltered over the previous couple of weeks. They did have to proceed with caution but if they delayed too long they may well find that the human population would be wiped out beyond recovery and of little use to them. He did wonder however if both might be wrong. Perhaps a third option might prove to be better. Perhaps they should remain in the shadows entirely. He was not convinced yet that humanity and vampires could coexist.

  “I think that if we are to emerge and reveal ourselves then the time is all but upon us, yes,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Ultimately with all that has recently befallen them, they might be more ready to accept our existence than ever before. Some may indeed see a symbiotic relationship as a positive thing, humans and vampires for the first time working for mutual benefit. Many however will not. If we are to approach them, then their reaction should guide us.”

  Darius was silent a moment in contemplation. Then he slowly turned back to Max. “And what say you my friend?”

  Max stood uncomfortably for a moment, unhappy about saying anything contradictory. As Darius waited he slowly started to speak. His voice rumbled, sonorous and dry like a tomb stone sliding across a crypt. “I agree that caution is needed but by now any humans may be open to our aid. Perhaps it is now time that we leave our self-imposed hiding and re-enter the world of humans.”

  “Hmmm, I have not ventured forth as much as I possibly should. I have not seen the new world that has befallen humankind of late. Perhaps that will prove to be my mistake.”

  He remained silent a moment, then lastly turned to Luca who still stood at the wall and called him forward, not to ask his guidance but to address the three of them together.

  “We have spoken before about this group of humans, these soldiers, who seem to be based somewhere in this area. They may well represent our best prospect of paving our emergence into their world. We need to know more about them. Venture forth. Find out all you can about them and report back to me as soon as possible. Go swiftly my friends; let us forge a new future for our kind.”

  The gathering dispersed. Sebastian was the last in the room. He remained, listening to their imperceptibly soft foot-falls as they departed, with doubts tormenting his mind. The course of the clan’s destiny no longer seemed as smooth as before. He wondered where Farzin and his cronies were now, probably searching for a victim and venting their anger on whatever innocent stray dog or unfortunate person they chanced upon. If so it was unlikely that any mercy would be shown. The poor wretch would be ripped to shreds be it hound or human, not that Farzin would differentiate between the two. He shuddered to remember what it was like to encounter a vampire for the first time, thinking back to his own experience so many years before. How many first-bloods had he taken in the intervening years? How many lives had he altered irrevocably or ended completely?

  Sebastian could see that Farzin no longer reconciled his state of being with the human he once was so long before, and he now despised mankind with a seemingly irrational vehemence. To Farzin it really was simply a case of survival of the fittest, and now here they all were being challenged as to that very fact. They all believed it to be true, that they were indeed the fittest; stronger, faster and better able to survive than their human counterparts. In reality would that prove to be the case though? As if survival was their God-given right; not that ‘God-given’ really came into it in the case of a vampire. And what would he, Sebastian, personally do to survive? How far would he go? Would he make a pact with the Devil and treat humans like cattle? And was that even wrong? Humans did treat other animals and even other humans disgracefully, subjugating, killing and using all other species for their own, arrogant designs. Sebastian wondered what was to stop vampires from adopting the same attitude. After all, he thought, he who lives by the sword dies by the sword, although he was fully aware of the irony of a vampire quoting the Bible. He looked down at his hands, long and slender and ending in small but capable talons, all lethal, deadly little swords of his own. Then he balled them up into fists as though hiding the evidence. He walked slowly to the window and stared out as the sun started its journey towards the horizon, staining the sky scarlet, grateful to be leaving behind once more all the horrific scenes of carnage and chaos.

  From his position by the window he did not see Farzin storm alone from the building, fury engulfing him as he marched out in search of a victim for his frustrations. His quest did not take him long.

  Farzin left the presbytery shaking with incandescent rage. Flavia had watched him depart and was tempted to follow but something stayed her. Whatever her reason, Farzin stormed into the evening alone.

  Although he walked without pretence of covertness, nevertheless his movements were swift and stealthy and within minutes he had encountered a cat. It did not hear his approach, did not detect his pounce until his fingers fastened upon its fur. With the subtle flick of his wrist its neck was snapped. He discarded it without even tasting its blood, casting it forcefully aside in disgust, taking its life purely through anger and spite.

  Moments later and he entered an area that was more urbanised. There were a few houses, a supermarket and an apartment block. He slowed down now. Some innate sense replaced his anger with cunning and savagery. For the first time since leaving the presbytery he crouched and trod warily. Automatically he merged with the approaching dusk, becoming barely more than a shadow. He neared the buildings. His focus narrowed. His attention and all his senses now concentrated almost entirely in front of him, the perfect hunter. He was sure he would not be going hungry tonight.

  “Go on, just stay in radio contact and don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Sergeant Sinna had called out to Abbott’s retreating figure as he hurried from the supermarket. The scavenging mission was virtually complete. It was five forty-two. Sinna was keen to finish the job and join Abbott and Campos as soon as possible at Campos’s house, before heading back to the security of RAF Headley Court. They had already been off base longer than he liked. Every minute that passed left him feeling
more on edge.

  “Let’s get this last load in the Landy double-quick and then go.” He indicated the shopping trolley laden with water bottles.

  “Yes Sarge,” Rohith grabbed its handles and started to push it towards the exit.

  Sinna had turned away for a moment, just the briefest of moments, as his private rounded the corner out of sight. One swift last sweep of the aisle behind him and he was about to follow. Then something caught his attention and made him stop. Possibly the lightest of sudden breezes or a slight shadow stirred in his peripheral vision. The hairs on his neck abruptly stood on end. There was the clatter of something being dropped - a bottle or tin can nearby. He turned and stared into the darkness where his colleague had just disappeared.

  “Rohith?” he called. There was no answer. He took a step towards the exit. His pulse quickened although he did not know why. For some unknown reason his instincts were screaming at him, ‘Run!’ He stopped and listened. Now silence. He raised his gun nervously and took another step. There was the crack of glass beneath his boot. “Private?”

  Still nothing. He must be hearing things. He was going crazy. There was nobody else about, just Rohith. But again, from the corner of his eye there was movement. He whirled around to face emptiness. His heart was beating hard and he tried to control his breathing. He was backing up now towards the exit. He turned once more. There, directly in front of him, a demonic apparition loomed, tall and menacing. He had not heard its arrival. There had been no warning sound or crunch of litter under foot. It had just materialised right beside him. He gasped and staggered back in shock. He raised his rifle and managed to squeeze off a short volley. The blast of the weapon drowned out the hellish roar of the figure. He caught a glimpse of its mouth wide open and looming closer. It was filled with impossibly long, sharp teeth as it leapt at him. Somehow he seemed to miss his target, despite having shot from so close. By all rights the bullets should have torn the creature in half. They should have ripped a hole in its chest and flung it back across the aisle. They should have saved Sinna’s life. But they didn’t. They missed their mark completely, even from such a short distance. The creature moved with unbelievable speed and managed to get to him before he could react again. Before he could fire another shot. Before he could even scream.