Denning saw right through her. “You couldn’t sleep either?”
“No.”
“Worried about that?” Denning pointed to the horizon.
“I guess.”
“I don’t blame you. I’ve been watching it for close to two hours trying to determine where it is and what direction it’s heading.”
“Any luck?”
“I still think it’s either Montreal or something in the suburbs.”
“How long will it take to reach us?” Windows asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
“I doubt it will.” Denning pointed to the trees off to their left. “The wind has been blowing from west to east, which will drive the flames perpendicular to us.”
“That’s good.” Windows saw the concern in his eyes. “Isn’t it?”
“It’s good because we don’t have to worry about it spreading to the farm.”
“But…?”
“That fire is going to disturb whatever made its home around Montreal.”
“Rotters?”
Denning shook his head. “Those things are as dumb as cow shit. They’ll swarm into the flames thinking that’s where the food is, which is good for us. I’m talking about the living.”
“You mean packs of wild animals.”
“I mean humans.”
The implication dawned on Windows. She glanced up at the bedroom window, realizing that they might soon be in danger. “How long will it be before they show up here?”
“Don’t go jumping the gun,” Denning said, trying to sound reassuring. “We don’t know if there are any other survivors in the area and, if there are, whether they’ll even find us. To be on the safe side, carry your weapon and a sidearm with you at all times. I have some two-way radios in the house. I’ll give you one so you can keep in touch. Don’t let Cindy out of your sight until we know better what’s going on.”
“You can count on that.” Windows felt her heart racing fast and her breathing grow rapid and shallow. After all she and Cindy had gone through, after all they had endured to find this sanctuary, only to face the possibility of it being violated by others like Price… she could not bring herself to think about it. Rationally, she knew Denning was right. The odds were in their favor. Assuming groups of survivors were displaced by the fire, the chances of them coming across the farm and of being hostile were thin. However, the time she spent in the camp had taught her to consider the worst possible realities. How would the two of them defend themselves if a group of thugs like Price showed up at the farm and wanted to take it over?
An explosion to the rear startled Windows, until she realized it was only thunder. Gray clouds moved in from the south. A bolt of chain lightning lit up the sky as it arced to earth.
“Good,” said Denning. “Maybe if it moves far enough north it’ll put out the fire. Come on. Let’s get inside before it starts raining.”
“What’ll we do if someone shows up at the front gate?” Windows asked.
Denning thought for a moment, then placed a hand on Windows’ shoulder and led her back to the house. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The convoy had parked along the banks of the Thurman W. Dix Reservoir. This place presented a pleasant contrast to rotter-infested Barre. A peaceful quiet engulfed the reservoir, broken only by the chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs. Robson sat inside his Humvee and used a flashlight to read the map he had spread out on the steering wheel. The others milled about, either chatting amongst themselves or wandering off to calm their nerves after the encounter a few hours earlier.
After escaping from the horde, Robson had given up on the idea of traveling through town because it was too risky. Instead, he backtracked a few miles and headed north until he reached the reservoir where he stopped to take a break and get his bearings. He studied the map, realizing the detour wouldn’t hurt them. They could still reach the resort area where he hoped to find a location to set up camp; they would just have to do it from a different direction. In hindsight, he should have chosen this route when first planning the trip rather than risk going through a city, no matter how tiny it appeared on the map. That screw up had already cost one person his life, and almost got four others killed. Robson knew he had better get his head back in the game quickly.
“Are you okay?” Linda asked.
He had not heard her approach, so when she spoke it startled him.
“Sorry,” she said, lowering her head.
“Don’t apologize. I’m a little jumpy after what happened back there. How is everyone else doing?”
“Your people are fine.” Linda leaned back against the open door. “Mine are still pretty shaken up, especially over Gary.”
“I’m sorry about that...” Robson let his sentence fall off, not wanting to say what was on his mind.
“No one blames you. He panicked and ran, and almost got Roberta and Ed killed in the process. We’ve all experienced death before, although this is the first time any of us have run into a situation like that.”
“You get used to it after a while.”
“How many times have you gone through something like that?”
“More than I care to remember.” Robson didn’t know how many encounters he had survived with rotters, always being superstitious that if he kept count his luck would run out that much quicker.
“I guess we have a lot to look forward to,” Linda said, trying to make it sound like a joke, but her voice sounded heavy with resignation.
“I wouldn’t worry. We’re heading north to where the population is thinner to avoid concentrations of rotters. We’ll arrive tomorrow night. In two nights, three at most, we should have set up a new camp. After that, we won’t have to worry about the dead.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Trust me.”
“Okay.” Linda glanced over at him and smiled. The smile morphed into terror. She moved away a few feet. “You’ve been bitten!”
It took a moment for Robson to realize what Linda was referring to. The top of his right hand had scratch marks from where the rotter with no lower jaw had tried to bite him. Two of the marks were bright red and oozing blood.
“He didn’t bite me. See?” Robson held up his hand so Linda could see better.
She backed further away. “It doesn’t matter. It broke the skin, so you’re infected. You’re going to turn.”
“No I’m not.” Robson lowered his voice and tried to sound soothing. “Linda, I’ve been vaccinated with a strain of the Zombie Virus that makes me immune to infection. Remember?”
“I forgot.” Linda halted. “I guess I’m jittery, too.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Robson placed the folded map between the dashboard and windshield of his Humvee, and then stepped out. “Let’s check on the others.”
Dravko and DeWitt came forward to meet them.
“So,” said DeWitt, “how far off of our planned route are we?”
“Not far at all. I was telling Linda that—”
Dravko held up his hand to cut off Robson. “Listen.”
The area was silent.
“I don’t hear anything,” said Robson.
“Exactly. What happened to the crickets and frogs?”
Robson expected to find rotters converging on them. He listened for rustling in the woods and bushes to their right, or splashing from the reservoir to their left, some sound to indicate where the danger came from. Linda moved behind Robson for protection. DeWitt raised his weapon, scanning the area for a target.
“It can’t be,” Dravko muttered, his tone possessing an uncertainty unusual for the vampire.
“Can’t be what?” Robson asked.
Dravko looked over at Tibor, who had also sensed it. Tibor seemed excited rather than confused.
Robson was about to demand Dravko tell him what he sensed when something bolted out of the woods. At first he thought it might be a swarmer, except that it moved too quickly
and didn’t snarl or moan. The shadow raced by DeWitt. DeWitt convulsed once and his eyes widened. A gash formed across the man’s neck that opened up, spilling blood down the front of his shirt. DeWitt dropped his weapon and fell to his knees, swaying in that position for a moment before collapsing face first onto the asphalt. Other shadows rushed out of the woods and took up positions behind the rest of his group. Before Robson could react, he heard Linda gasp. A pallid hand clasped her neck, the tips of its talon-like fingernails resting on her throat.
“Dear Satan,” muttered Dravko. “It can’t be.”
“It is,” Tibor said, a growing excitement in his voice.
A tall figure crossed the road and walked up to Dravko. He stood over six feet in height. His clothes fit poorly, hanging loose on his lean frame. What he lacked in physical appearance was more than compensated for by a poise that displayed arrogant self-confidence. Several strands of blond hair fell across his long, angular face. The figure pushed the hair back behind his ears, revealing piercing blue eyes that mirrored a penchant for violence and cruelty. Robson immediately recognized him, and a chill raced down his spine.
The figure strode up to Dravko and stared at him with a cold, hateful glare. “I never thought I’d run into you again.”
“Vladimir. Is it really you?”
“Yes. I survived, no thanks to you.” Vladimir studied the others. “I see Elena still bids you to be the servant for the humans.”
Dravko became defensive at the slight against his Mistress. “Elena is dead. I’m Master of the coven now.”
Vladimir leaned in close to Dravko. “I’m Master here.”
When Dravko tried to protest, Vladimir cut him off with a menacing glare. He moved closer to Robson, a note of recognition in his dead eyes, and stepped up to him. “I don’t know any of the others. I remember you.”
Robson never saw Vladimir’s hand swing at him. He experienced a brief moment of searing pain, and then everything went black.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Consciousness returned slowly to Robson. He opened his eyes. He could make out nothing of his surroundings. Everything was a blur, partially because of the dark, partially because he lay face down in dirt, and partially because of the throbbing in his left temple. When he attempted to lift himself up, the pain spiked, blacking out his vision. Robson moaned and dropped back down onto the dirt.
In the background, Linda said, “He’s awake.”
Roberta’s voice cut through the dark. “Mike, are you okay?”
“I’m alive,” Robson answered. He rolled onto his back. The pain throbbed again in his temple. This time he expected it. When he opened his eyes, he squinted against the sunlight filtering in through the gaps between the wood. A few moments passed before his vision adjusted, and he saw they were inside a barn. “Where are we?”
“An abandoned farmhouse less than a mile from the reservoir,” said Roberta.
“I remember being attacked and Vladimir knocking me out. What happened next?”
“The vampires escorted us here and chained us up.” She held up the chain for emphasis. The link ran five feet, with one end entwined around the wooden support beam of a horse stall and the other wrapped tightly around her ankle, both ends secured in place with padlocks.
“That’s very trusting of them.” Robson rose to his feet. “Did they really think we wouldn’t tr—”
The moment he stood on his right foot, a searing sensation burned its way from his ankle up through the leg muscles. Unable to support himself, he toppled onto the dirt and clasped his ankle in agony.
“After they chained us, they sliced through our Achilles tendons with their talons.” Roberta sighed. “Even if we try to escape, we won’t get very far.”
“They’ve got us trapped in here like cattle,” said Linda.
“Blood cattle,” added James.
Robson bent over and checked his ankle. Sure enough, someone had torn a gash two inches deep across his Achilles tendon. “How many did we lose last night?”
“Only DeWitt,” Roberta answered.
“What about Dravko and Tibor?”
“Those motherfuckers joined the other bloodsuckers,” Corey, chained up at the far end of the stalls, spat.
“Even Dravko?”
“Yes,” Roberta said gently. “I’m sorry.”
That disappointed Robson. Of all the vampires, he had trusted Dravko the most, and always thought that the two of them could work out their differences. He could beat himself up later for being naïve. Right now, he had to figure out a way to save his people.
“How many vampires were there?”
“Nine,” answered Roberta. “Not counting Dravko and Tibor.”
“Nine that we saw,” Ed chimed in from somewhere behind him.
“What about our weapons?”
Roberta shook her head. “The vampires made us leave everything by the reservoir. We have no idea where our vehicles and equipment are.”
“What do we do now?” asked Caslow, his voice barely concealing his desperation.
Robson leaned back against the support beam he had been chained to. “We wait.”
“Wait for what?” Roberta asked incredulously.
Yukiko lowered her head and cried. “I don’t wait to die.”
“Me neither,” said Magda. “We need to do something.”
“Do what?” James cut in. “We’re outnumbered, we have no weapons, and we’re in no shape to take on vampires.”
“So this is it?” asked Ed. “Game over?”
“If Vladimir wanted us dead, he would have killed us out there by the reservoir,” Robson stated, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. “The fact that he didn’t means he wants us for something.”
“Yeah,” Caslow snorted. “He wants to feed off of us.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Robson. “As long as we’re alive, we have a chance of figuring a way out of this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The coven had made its nest in the blacked out living room of the farmhouse, opting to reside in the same area for security and safety in numbers. Mattresses and sofas from the other rooms had been dragged in and pressed into corners or against walls. The only illumination came from a set of candles atop a coffee table in the center of the room. A love seat and three easy chairs surrounded the coffee table. They had secured the room well, painting the glass black in the three windows along the north wall, nailing boards across the frames, and draping heavy curtains over the interiors to block any sunlight. The sliding double doors, as well as the single swinging door to the kitchen, had also been closed, with heavy curtains stretching across their length and deadbolts inserted into the jambs. The coven was impervious to sunlight, and neither rotters nor humans were breaking in without waking them.
Most of the coven had wandered off to their respective corners and fallen asleep once the thrill of meeting new vampires had worn off. Four still remained awake: Dravko and Tibor, who each sat in an easy chair, plus Vladimir and a female vampire with long auburn hair who he had introduced as Gabrielle, who cuddled together on the love seat. Tibor and Vladimir chatted animatedly, mostly discussing the good times before the Vampire Council had initiated the outbreak that slaughtered billions of humans and nearly wiped out their own species. Gabrielle sat beside her Master and didn’t speak, rubbing his chest or running a hand along his thigh, playing the role assigned to her. Dravko kept to himself, not wanting to discuss certain uncomfortable subjects.
“So how did you survive being banished from the camp?” Tibor asked, bringing up one of the subjects Dravko had wanted to avoid.
“I almost didn’t.” Vladimir’s tone lost none of its pleasantness. “I’ll admit, I hovered around the camp for several days, plotting a way to sneak back in and murder Paul and Elena—especially Elena—for throwing me out like they did.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I knew that would turn the humans against you. The rest of you would either h
ave been killed or banished, and with nowhere to hide you wouldn’t have lasted long. I thought it was better to let the coven survive than to get revenge.”
Tibor laughed. “How noble of you.”
“It was always my best quality.” Vladimir chuckled. He glanced over at Gabrielle. “Isn’t that right?”
“Lord of the manor,” she replied. Dravko noted she said it with more fear than affection.
“At first I headed south, hoping to meet up with any survivors from the raiding party we had sent to shut down the nuclear reactor at Seabrook, but didn’t have any luck. I did find Gabrielle held up in an old diner in Hampton. She had been one of seven people who had set themselves up there shortly after the outbreak. Four had died in supply runs, one succumbed to pneumonia, and the last had committed suicide a month earlier. Gabrielle had been alone for weeks when I ran across her, and she begged me to make her one of us.”
When Gabrielle lowered her eyes and bowed her head, Dravko assumed Vladimir was not relaying events precisely as they had happened.
“We headed north. I figured we’d be safer where there were fewer rotters. Any humans we came across were given a choice. Join the coven or be bled dry. You’d be surprised how many chose death over immortality.”
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