by JN Moon
Jamie stayed silent as I deliberated the choices before me. At last, I spoke, “I have a gun on me; we have the gloves and masks. They do not.”
And here I paused and took a long breath. What would happen to her if I did not leave now? But I knew in my heart that I had to do this. Otherwise, the people here would end up ripped to pieces.
It pissed me off immensely that Adam and his cronies had decided to ignore this aspect of the destruction and leave the people at the mercy of these things. So much for his justice.
“Let's do it,” I gasped out.
We hid our helmets with our bikes in the bushes at the side of the road and pulled out the face-masks we had insisted Adam give us, and the vinyl gloves. We checked our weapons were loaded. Then we made the careful descent through the surrounding fields and hedgerows towards the half-dilapidated and smoking complex.
There was no moon that night and I was glad. The huge Victorian complex was just a dark shadow from where we were and in that darkness except for the noise and the smell.
We had to act fast, we knew the human authorities would want to buzz round the complex. The Elite being so powerful and wealthy, they had always been able to keep the mortals away. Buying them off as a slack parent does to a spoilt child, but this time, they may not be so lucky.
We stuck to the hedges as we drew closer. From the distance, we saw Tyrell's minions. Some lay dead, shattered into many pieces from the dirty bombs that we had left in the SUV. Now the pandemonium we had brought right to Tyrell's doorstep spewed out into every area of the complex. It was chaotic and bloody. And it reeked.
Others were reeling in agony on the ground, doubled up from the ingestion of the poison in their stomachs. Blistered faces and some were maimed from the shrapnel. Many were severely injured with pieces of metal hanging from their faces and bodies. They hung somewhere between life and death.
And that smell, the smell of death hung heavily alongside the scent of blood. That smell that inflames my senses.
We kept to the shadows and searched for the faces of Sigurd and Tyrell, Alexander, the faces we feared to see the most. But we didn't see them. I knew Sigurd had no doubt lived, one that old. Tyrell, I was not so sure of, and his son? Well, I had been especially glad that he had personally been given the bomb full of ricin and shrapnel. He would never survive that. I did not fear Tyrell, if he lived he would obviously torture me and try to kill me, but now I had nothing left. And I would take him down with me if it came to that.
We edged closer, aiming for the wing on the south side that housed the weapons. Lots of them.
A guard stood outside the weapons vault as we approached. We ascertained immediately that he was human and as quick as that Jamie shot him. I was shocked and as he caught my glance he muttered, “He's one of them. He would've compromised us.” The noise was muffled by our use of silencers and the ensuing chaos around us.
Inside another guard sorted weapons. Jamie shot him as soon as he spotted him. I stepped around the fresh corpse, the blood intoxicating me when Jamie commented, “If I'd known I would have kept him alive for you,” he smirked.
I laughed quickly, almost violently for this wasn't a situation where I thought I could laugh. It was too intense, too scary and I loved him in that moment for making a joke.
“I haven't tasted blood for days. I seem to need less since Nathaniel. But I want it before we go down there. I need that.”
“Then take some of mine.” He grinned.
“Your blood? You would let me drink?”
“Get on with it, Anthony. Christ you're so melodramatic. Or I can grab you a stinking human if you'd prefer?”
“No, no.” I shut up abruptly and there in the vault surrounded by guns, weapons, and ammunition, I took his wrist and drank. And it was ecstatic. I thought Nathaniel's blood divine but this, this was a whole new realm.
As his blood rushed through my veins, I swayed and my mind hummed. Jamie steadied me and I stood back against a wall, blood dripping from my mouth. It was like having an anaesthetic where you feel unable to do anything for a few minutes, but my senses were sharp. Burning passion, excitement ran through me.
As I looked at him a strong feeling of kinship, of belonging became tangible.
“Tyrell's,” he muttered. “Come on, we got to move.”
I didn't want to. I wanted to stay in that feeling, to wrap myself in it, to immerse my soul in it. How could I drink Tyrell's blood and not Alexander's? Right now, I didn't have time to question that. As I straightened myself, ready to go and grab the extra weapons, I had a flash of realisation, “We need flame throwers. They won't die with bullets alone.”
“Here, take this.” He threw me a sword and more surprisingly I caught it by the handle like it was the most natural thing in the world. “There are flame throwers over there. At least, I think that’s what they are.”
He went over to the far stonewall and strapped the device to his back. He looked like something from an action movie rather than the guy from Bath.
We had flame throwers, swords, and guns. Thank God I’d done martial arts!
“They won't be easy to kill,” I suggested, strapping the flame thrower on my back.
“No, they won't, literally and consciously. But die they must. I am sick of all this shit, this mess. Let's just get on with it. And Anthony,” he said sternly.
“Yes?” I answered anxiously.
“Just because I gave you my blood doesn't mean I fancy you or anything, OK?” And he grinned.
And so did I.
It's those times of high emotional stress when we need that release of laughter, it made me feel better smiling with him before I die. Somehow, it all seemed easier. I could die laughing yet.
Our backs close to the walls around the outside, in the night, looking for one of the many entrances down into the cells.
It was eerily quiet as we entered the cellar. The explosions had wiped out all the electricity, and though I could see where I was going, I could only see outlines.
Our eyesight is good, but in those dark places, even we struggle. We crept as quietly as we could, weapons poised down the steps into the basement. We could briefly make out the silhouettes of open doors.
My worse fear realised. Still no noise, just emptiness, and cold. It’s strange how a place can feel so hollow, a place of evil.
A shiver ran down my spine and as it did so, Jamie reached around and touched me on the arm to alert me. Then I heard it. The sound of shallow breathing—something was down there with us, waiting.
Was it afraid? Whatever, it would try to tear us apart that much I knew for sure. We dare not talk, but we were both wondering where the rest of them were. I didn’t want to think about it. In those moments a dread streamed through me, my instinct to survive sharpened. Those moments, though brief, seemed like time was ticking endlessly.
Suddenly the door behind us slammed shut and we both jumped. Now it was near impossible to see anything.
Waiting, try as we might we couldn't quiet our breathing. We heard noises, soft scuffling noises. Standing firmly with our backs to the wall as best we could with the fire canisters strapped to them, the flamethrowers in our hands, poised for any assault. I could hear my vampire heart, rich with blood pumping, ba-bom, ba-bom and I wondered if they could hear it, too. Certainly, they’d smell us.
Something was coming towards us, but it was impossible to tell in that pitch black where the hell it was. But it wasn't friendly; I could sense that in my gut.
“Now!” Jamie whispered to me and we both simultaneously fired the weapons.
The sudden brightness of the flames and the heat were startling and what we saw...
“What the fuck was that?” It struck me then that it had indeed been a long time since Adam’s friends had been in the cells. I had been in them long after and though I had had glimpses, I had never actually come face to face with the experimentals.
“It used to be one of us,” I muttered nervously.
�
�Well, it isn’t now. I need light. Edge back towards the door, keep your back to the wall, and if anything gets in your way, fire,” he said gently. That sounded a good plan.
Slowly I started to edge up the steps, keeping my footing. Thank fuck, I just want to get out of here. At least with some light I can see what the hell it was I'm trying to kill, or what was trying to kill me. My mind raced, and I couldn't stop seeing a picture in my mind of that thing after seeing that.
“Hush, Anthony,” Jamie whispered.
“Ah! What the...” Something grabbed my ankle, I lost my footing and went crashing down, flames bursting suddenly, and the next thing I knew something foul was biting my neck, no, chewing my neck. Being mauled and dragged away, I couldn't reach the handle of the weapon. I wailed like a child.
“Get them off,” I screamed.
It seemed like an age, but it was only seconds. Jamie had abandoned me to make for the door, which he now threw open and the light from outside, though not bright as it was still dark, seemed to flood in. I was aware then of him leaping down and kicking, with all his power, these fucked up creatures off me before setting them ablaze.
“Jesus, Anthony, this doesn't look good. I think you’re...infected!” His face was contorted in disgust and fear as he stared at me and then away.
“What? Help me!”
He offered me his hand up and I staggered, holding my neck, blood trickling out.
“Give me more of your blood, it may help.”
“No! If it helped, you wouldn't be infected. There's only one way I can think of that can help you. Whether or not she does is another matter. This is futile, let's get out of here.”
Jamie looked repulsed at me, he didn't want to risk infection, and I couldn't blame him. It was then that I was more in awe of him. He could've left me or killed me. After all, I wasn't of great importance to him. But he chose to help me. So maybe younger vampires can pull through. The ones who still remember what it is to have humanity. Oh God, I was rambling like an Elder...
We left the burning and writhing creatures in that dark place and made our way up the steps. Their screams sounded like nothing else, high-pitched wails as if they were being dragged into the depths of Hell itself. My heart raced and my breathing heavy, I shivered violently from fear.
“Fuck, Anthony.”
I was finding it hard to walk, to breathe now. “Jamie, please do something.”
“Not here, I need to get you away.” I knew it crossed his mind to leave me here, I could sense that. I didn't blame him. And if it wasn't for what I would become, if it was just death that waited for me, I would have happily accepted it.
Then came the voice that curdled our blood even more.
“Jamie, so good of you to come back,” Tyrell called from what was left of his mouth. Jamie went white and lowered me to the floor. “Ah, I see from your expression you assumed me dead, yes? It takes more than that to kill me. I shall enjoy killing you slowly as you brought death to my son,” he shouted, enraged.
He flew at Jamie, but Jamie stepped aside last minute. Jamie drew his sword and lunged towards him stopping just before he reached him. Tyrell, even more enraged now, took the bait and flew at Jamie.
Jamie ducked low and thrust the sword upwards into Tyrell's groin and abdomen and withdrew it in seconds, pulling out most of his innards with it. The once Elite vampire wailed. Jamie grabbed his hair, looked him in the eye and took off his head in an almighty swing.
“Live through that, you fucker.” He dropped the head and just to be sure, booted it far away from the body.
I had no idea Jamie could fight like that. I was so mesmerised for a moment I forgot my own predicament.
“Come on sick boy, we need to find Emidius.”
Deity
Anthony
“How will we find her and why would she help me?” I moaned to Jamie as nausea and anxiety swelled in me. Being a vampire wasn't exactly working out for me.
“I don't know, Anthony. I just sense that she will help. I'll find her.”
We had taken a car as I was too weak for a bike. I sat there in the passenger seat once again reflecting on my changed existence. Without Rachel, truth be told, I would be glad of death, but not such a prolonged, agonising death.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I don't know; I'm just following my gut. Do you ever shut up? Let me think.”
Then a strange sensation crept over me, like someone walking on my grave, my soul empty.
“What the fuck was that?” Jamie asked.
“I don't know, I just had the oddest sensation. Emptiness. Something has happened. To Nathaniel.”
“What?”
“Rachel. What has happened to her if he's gone? I can always sense him since what happened at the compound. Now nothing.”
“Nathaniel went wrong, he was one fucked-up vampire. If he has gone, that's no bad thing. It doesn't mean...”
“Spare me, Jamie. I know, but Rachel, I could sense her but less so after Nathaniel turned her, she’s connected to him. If she's dead...”
“If she's dead then you'll have no more to kill. One thing at a time. You won't save her if you turn into a zombie-vampire-thing, will you? Here we are...”
He stopped the car suddenly and leaped out, and I wondered where the hell we were. In the middle of nowhere, that was for sure. The only things I could see, as the first light started to appear, was woodland.
I didn't have the energy to question Jamie. Struggling to breathe, I tried to remain calm. Strong tingling sensations consumed my body and I felt like I was morphing into something else. My skin was taut, my limbs aching, hardly moving. Barley able to move my mouth, inertia setting in.
But the fear—I would rather die than become what they had become.
I walked with Jamie aiding me like I was a soldier injured in battle, as he wrapped his arm around me to stop me from falling. I was slow and we seemed to be walking forever when we came to a rock face just outside the cluster of trees.
“This is Goblin Combe, Anthony. Just beyond there is a small opening in the rock, an entrance. We'll find Emidius there.”
Taken aback that one so powerful as Emidius would be living in a cave, but then maybe she felt peace being so close to the earth. Grounded maybe, away from the human zoo. I could relate to that. Not unlike Sigurd.
Sigurd. I felt a pang of pain when I wondered about him, but my gut told me he wasn't dead. I wondered about all of the vampires I had met since my turning and how most of them had wronged me, betrayed me. I wondered why Jamie was helping now or was he, in fact, leading me to my imminent death?
I stopped. “Why, why are you helping me?” I questioned him. “Why not just kill me here?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” he admitted freely. “But I don't want your death on my hands, on my conscience. If you turn, I would have to kill you. I'm sick to my core of killing, it's endless. I want, no, I need something more than this piece-of-shit existence. She can offer me that, I hope.”
He reminded me of a guardian angel. But definitely a fallen one and I clung to that as we walked slowly towards the cave.
Entering into the darkness through a small hidden gap, the stillness of the cool blackness surrounding me. We walked on deeper into its depths Jamie still aiding me.
I knew he was being guided there, but whether by his intuition or by her, I didn’t know.
All I knew was my anxiety about the outcome was growing and he sensed that, too.
“There's a light up ahead, look.” He pointed then called out softly, “Emidius, I need your help.”
At first, no sound was heard and I felt another pang of panic. Could it be Sigurd or the others waiting for us?
“Ah...I only seem to get visitors when they want something. When they need my help. Even here I cannot escape.”
“Emidius, you know I was fighting Tyrell's bloody war. You could have taken me with you. I'm here now. I do need you to help him, but after that, I want t
o stay with you,” Jamie answered.
Her voice was clear and gentle with a slight accent that I could not place. “Why don't you help him? He has your blood has he not? And he hasn't been turned.” As she finished talking she moved into the area where we stood. The pale light we saw moments earlier was emanating from her and it faintly lit the cave around us.
“Me?” he exclaimed. “I cannot do this.” He carefully helped me to sit against a rock.
“I must say your compassion for this creature is intriguing. Why are you helping him?” she asked, looking from me to Jamie.
“Anthony asked me the same thing. I am sick of killing and anyway, why would I kill him? In a way, he's the only friend I have.”
“Do you trust him?”
“No. I would like to trust though. I miss trusting. I miss feeling...something, though I almost feel nothing. Nothing but emptiness, and this sensation is growing in me. Only you can help me.”
“But why would I do that, Jamie?” Her voice teased him as she walked over to inspect me as if I were some unusual object.
“You know why.”
“You think you're the only vampire I've had?”
“OK. Then don't help. He'll die and it's on your conscience if you even have one, which I see you don't.” He turned to leave without giving me a second look and I watched as she crouched over me, as he made his way out.
“Jamie,” she called. “Come back. I will show you how to help him.”
“Do it yourself,” he called as he continued.
So, she did. She watched him walk away in what I thought was intrigue and disappointment. At least she let him go for now.
“So, Anthony, are you ready to become what you were born to be?” she asked me smoothly.
“And what is that? A damned creature?” I asked.
“Oh, you're not damned. Not now. And Rachel? You want to see her again. A shame Nathaniel lost his mind though. I liked him, once. But it is often the way with vampires; their minds don't cope so well with immortality.”
