by Derek Gunn
“Not for much longer. How are we going to bypass the injections now? The only reason Sandra, John, Bill or myself are here now is because the thralls were too busy kicking the shit out of Powell to notice us.”
Harrington suddenly looked down at the table as Harris’ss words hit home. This was the first time Harris had ever succeeded in making Harrington back down. Okay, reminding him that his own daughter was in that group this morning was a low blow, but there wasn’t time to debate morality anymore. He could even see Tyrone Johnson thinking about how close the serum check had been.
“Dan, we have no choice.” Harris lowered his voice as he leaned over the table. “If we win tomorrow, then we can really begin to hurt them.”
“And if we fail?” Harrington asked with a raised eyebrow.
“If we fail,” Harris repeated, “then at least we’ll take as many of those fuckers with us as we can.”
For a moment the two men stared at each other and it seemed that everyone held their breaths. Neither gave way and the moment stretched uncomfortably. Everyone at the table had been through Hell in the last few years. Everyone at the table had a vote but there was no doubting that Harrington and Harris had the strongest personalities or that their opinions carried the most weight. Both also fervently believed they were right and both men were prepared to put their lives on the line for what they thought was best.
Unfortunately, neither man had been trained for this type of situation and they could only draw on their own experiences and beliefs. Their decisions, however, also put the lives of others on that same line and, while a bad decision in the boardroom might lead to job losses or a downturn in the success of a company, the wrong decision here would lead to lives being lost, and that wasn’t always something that was easy to live with.
Harrington continued to run through the various options in his head. He knew that everything would change now that the thralls had caught Powell. Their backs were to the wall. They had been an annoyance up to now. The thralls had tolerated them, barely, when they had stolen supplies but killing vampires had moved them up to their highest priority.
It had been mainly his decision to shift their emphasis from stealing to killing and he didn’t regret it. Being free of the serum had its own responsibility and they couldn’t just sit back and let others suffer while they hid. He hadn’t expected such an extreme reaction from the vampires though. If they were to survive now they would have to leave the comfort of their compact group and move to the next level. Harris was right about that much, though whether he was reaching too far too soon had yet to be seen. Slowly, a sad smile appeared on Harrington’s face and he looked up into Harris’ss expectant face.
“I hope you’re right.”
Chapter 5
The moon shone brightly in an otherwise clear sky. Its light illuminated the surrounding area and forced Tyrone Johnson and his two companions to retreat further behind the undergrowth.
“Bloody typical,” Bill Anderson complained and received a withering look for his trouble.
The sound of shuffling feet reached them from further down the trail and Johnson risked lifting his head to get a better view. The trail led to one of the many guard compounds littered throughout the state from the days when the thralls had kept the humans locked up in camps. That was before they started using the serum all the time. This particular one wasn’t the closest to the city, but it was the nearest that could handle the number of humans involved in this particular punishment. Johnson sighed with relief when the group came into view. If they had chosen incorrectly, a lot of people would have died. As it was, he hoped that they wouldn’t all die anyway.
About a hundred yards down the trail Johnson could see five thralls striding confidently toward them. The humans behind them were, in contrast, frightened and shuffled awkwardly along the trail. The line was orderly, with three abreast, stretching as far back as he could see in the pale light.
“All right,” he whispered as he turned to his companions. “When the guards go by we go. And for God’s sake, remember to shuffle.”
The first row of humans passed by and Johnson could see the look of pure terror in their eyes. Goddamned serum, he thought bitterly. Each and every human in that line was all too aware of what was about to happen, but was physically incapable of doing anything about it.
“Good, no vampires,” he whispered and then the three companions slipped into the line and quickly fell into step with those around them.
Harris surveyed the scene below from his vantage point in a tree near the camp. A chain link fence reached some ten feet in height around the compound and culminated in a wicked spiral of barbed wire. The fence used to be electrified, but the guards had had it too easy for so long that they had become complacent. The fence had not been maintained in quite a while and current no longer flowed through it.
The overall shape of the compound was rectangular and measured some three hundred yards in length by two hundred wide. At each corner of the camp was a twenty-foot guard tower manned by at least one thrall. To his right Harris could see the barracks where the guards slept. Beside that was the motor pool, which housed some ten vehicles. Other buildings dotted the circumference of the camp. Harris could identify the armoury and mess hall easily enough, but the other buildings remained a mystery. Many of the buildings bore the look of neglect. This camp was too far outside of town and had been abandoned since the serum had replaced these prisons. Everywhere he looked Harris could see signs of recent occupancy, the thralls had rushed out here just that morning to prepare for the vampires” show tonight and he hoped that the thrall’s unfamiliarity with the camp would work in their favour. To his left was the entrance to the compound, comprising of two huge gates flanked on either side by guard towers.
Harris shifted position. The pain in his stomach was from tension not cramp, so all he could do was ignore it while he watched the gates open. The guards led the doomed group into the camp and proceeded to assemble them in the large forecourt. It was early evening and, already, Harris could see the sun beginning to sink behind the horizon. Shadows grew longer inside the camp and a cold breeze seemed to herald the approaching darkness. Harris shivered. When all the humans finally past the main gates the thralls closed the huge doors and assembled the poor wretches into neat rows within the main courtyard. A deathly silence descended over the camp, as if the thralls too were nervous.
Harris looked at his watch. Three minutes, he thought. In the distance he could hear the faint rustling noises they had all come to dread.
The noise grew louder and louder until, finally, Harris could make out the outline of the approaching swarm. They came from the east and their ebony darkness filled the sky. They screeched and swooped at the assembled humans and added further to the terror of the pathetic group below. Each time they swooped into the compound the camp’s lights illuminated their hellish features and Harris felt his resolve slip.
Twenty! My God, twenty of them, he thought in horror. What have I gotten us into?
One by one the creatures swooped down and began to change as soon as they touched the ground. Their wings seemed to shimmer and shrink back into their bodies with a cracking of bone that grated on Harris” nerves. Their faces were contorted into sunken, bone-ridged masks of terror and, as he watched in horror Harris could see the flesh begin to flow as if suddenly melting before reforming around the newly crafted features. Their hideous mouths, filled with sharp, over-sized teeth, seemed to crack and fold back in on themselves as flesh began to form over the new bone. Gaunt, angular cheekbones suddenly puffed out and became almost plump. Their bodies too, contorted and cracked as their long, animal forms were replaced with a squatter human frame. The guards dropped to their knees in supplication and Harris gripped his radio tightly, feeling the cold metal dig into his flesh as the abomination before him strengthened his resolve.
“Group Two, begin,” he whispered into the mouthpiece.
Chapter 6
“Group two, begi
n.”
The words broke the reverie of the four companions as they stood quietly together. Harrington looked at each of his group. Sandra stood to his right. He had argued strenuously against his daughter coming tonight, but, in the end, it had been futile. John and Amy Stone sat to his left and held hands so tightly that their skin had long since turned white. He looked at each in turn. No words were spoken. None were needed. The group stood, embraced silently, and melted into the darkness.
John Kelly heard the radio crackle and knew that the time had long passed for changing their minds. They were committed. He always felt nervous just before an attack. His stomach would twist, his hands would shake uncontrollably, and pain would shoot through his body. Normally he would hide his nervousness and keep his hands in his pockets or sit alone and pretend to go over the plan one last time. Tonight, though, he was on his own. He could pace freely and count down the remaining seconds. He looked again at his watch and felt a calm suddenly come over him as all the tension passed.
It was time.
He bent down, picked up the axe from the grass and smiled when he saw that his hand no longer shook.
Harris waited until the guards on sentry passed his position and then dropped from the tree. They would take only ten minutes to complete a full circuit of the complex, so he hurried over to the fence and began to climb. When he reached the top he threw a rubber mat over the barbed wire to protect himself. He looked around quickly to make sure he hadn’t been seen and then pulled himself over and dropped to the ground. He checked his backpack was secure, pulled an Uzi machine pistol from its holster on his hip, and then disappeared into the darkness.
Sandra Harrington sighted along the aiming bubble at the end of the crossbow. The subject of her attention was a thrall in the east tower. She followed his pacing for a second and then allowed herself to exhale slowly. She forced herself to relax and said a quiet prayer. Her finger squeezed the trigger and she felt the weapon snap back against her shoulder. Many thoughts raced through her mind. Would her training pay off? Would she miss and cause the alarm to be raised?
The thrall suddenly jerked upright and then crumpled silently to the floor of the tower. Sandra smiled grimly and allowed the crossbow to swing from its strap. She looked again at her watch and then began to climb.
Chapter 7
“My Lord, the prisoners are all assembled as per your instructions.” The captain of the guard rose from his knees and began his report. “The cameras will be ready in five minutes.”
“Excellent,” Nero replied and turned away to view the proceedings.
The cameras had been his idea. Screens had been set up everywhere and they would pipe the feed all over the city. He smiled at the thought of the terror this massacre would instil in the cattle. The serum might take away their ability to act independently, but it didn’t stop them from being petrified. Maybe this will make these rebels think twice before attacking their masters.
Harris hurried through the darkness toward the motor pool. A line of jeeps and trucks were parked neatly in three lanes, and he ran through them to the fuel dump at the far end. He shook a number of cans and grunted in satisfaction when he found one almost full. Then he slipped back between the vehicles. He laid a trail behind him, removed petrol caps and sprinkled petrol liberally around the whole area. When he reached the last vehicle he poured the remaining fuel in a line leading back to the fuel dump.
When he was satisfied he checked around the grounds for sentries and sneered when he saw that most of them had given up their patrols to view the proceedings in the centre of the camp.
Morbid bastards, he thought, and then slipped silently toward the barracks.
Tyrone Johnson could feel his heart thumping in his chest and sweat trickling down his face. He fought to remain still, but couldn’t help pressing his left arm tighter against his side to ensure that the miniature crossbow was still strapped there. His eyes moved wildly from side to side while he took note of the each of the vampires” positions.
Jesus! They were terrifying up close. They moved with such grace and assurance that he began to wonder how a pitifully small crossbow could do anything but piss them off. Was Harris mad? Were they all mad? He could feel his muscles spasm in fear and he clamped his teeth tightly together to stop them chattering. He was convinced that they would smell his fear any second and set upon him before the others were in position but he forced himself to remain as still as he could. Jesus, how did he get himself in this position? He liked Harris, he really did, but he would have to have some strong words with the boy after this. If there was an after.
He had expected to be terrified being this close to the vampires but, now that he was here, he began to realise that there was something magnificent about the creatures as well, something so powerful that it was almost alluring, thrilling. Despite their evil, despite what they had done to him and to humanity as a whole he felt himself weakening.
Surely he would be better confessing to them, warning them and maybe they would allow him to live. Johnson felt himself beginning to move forward. In his mind he screamed at himself but his body didn’t seem to take any notice. He knew they were evil, he had seen them slaughter his wife and his daughter in front of him while they laughed, but the compulsion to throw himself at their mercy was so strong that the images in his head couldn’t stop him. He took one faltering step forward, helpless to resist their allure.
Suddenly, he became aware of a faint odour of decay on the wind and he stopped moving. The stink was like a slap in the face as the vampires” true nature came back to him. The compulsion was still there but now he was able to focus his hatred and fight against it. He felt a fire grow in the pit of his stomach and he fuelled it with memories of his family. He saw them scream as the vampires tore them apart and he felt his resolve grow. His teeth suddenly stopped chattering and he felt his control return. One way or the other it would end tonight. Either he would avenge his family or he would join them.
“Four minutes,” Harris muttered to himself as he set the final timer and placed the charge in position under the barracks. Sweat rolled freely from every pore while the thralls moved about above him. At one point he could even see the wood of the floor dip dangerously close to his face when a guard stopped to warm himself against a radiator.
Harris thumbed the safety off his machine gun and rolled out from under the last of the five wooden structures along the western fence. He had no idea if all of the buildings were occupied but he couldn’t take the chance. The facility may have been abandoned for some time now but there had been over a hundred thralls crawling over it all day trying to get it ready on such short notice and Harris wasn’t certain how many had returned to the city and how many had stayed. He checked again for patrols and then made his way toward the assembled group in the forecourt.
The captain approached Nero and bowed low. “Camera uplink is now ready, my lord.”
“Excellent,” the vampire hissed and swept around to face his clan. “Come; let us show this rabble the price of resistance.” And with that the vampires approached their terrified prey.
Johnson watched the vampires approach and slowly moved his hand toward his side. God, I hope the others are in position, he thought desperately, or this is going to be one short-lived act of defiance. He whispered a quick prayer and gripped his weapon tightly.
Just then a loud explosion shattered the silence. Four more quickly followed, so close together that Johnson thought it was one long thunder crack. He ripped the crossbow from its hiding place at his side and sent his first shot at the lead vampire.
Harrington heard the explosions and tried to blot out the scene of mayhem below him. All five of the buildings along the west fence had exploded and now burned fiercely. Thralls stumbled out of two of the ruined barracks covered in flames, screaming hideously as their flesh burned and crackled in the heat. An orange glow illuminated the camp. It undulated as the flames waxed and waned and gave the whole scene a surreal, hellish appe
arance.
The vampires recovered quickly though. Harrington saw one of them grab the captain and shake him violently. Harrington couldn’t hear what was said, but the vampire screamed at the thrall and gesticulated at the burning buildings. The captain seemed to recover and gathered some thralls to investigate. Harrington took all this in from his position in the west tower and then aimed his crossbow at his target.
Bill Anderson saw his first shot bury itself in a vampire’s chest. The creature howled and Anderson thought his ears would burst. Blood sprayed from the creature’s chest and splashed the poor wretches around him. The vampire flayed about trying to grab the quarrel but it was too far imbedded. The creature howled in frustration and it dug its talons into its flesh as he tried to remove the source of its agony. Thralls rushed to help the vampire, but the creature was so frenzied with pain that it lashed out and its razor sharp talons tore them apart. Some of the thralls screamed and fell to the ground holding bleeding limbs, while others backed away until, finally, the creature collapsed.
Anderson took aim at a second creature, but his eyes could not match the speed with which it moved. One minute it was 10 feet away and the next it had torn the crossbow from his grip. Anderson smelled the foetid breath and offered up a final prayer when, suddenly, the creature jerked upright and collapsed at his feet. Anderson stared unbelievably at the corpse and then noticed the quarrel sticking from its back. He looked up to see Sarah Harrington in the East tower and waved briefly, but she had already reloaded and moved on to her next target.
Anderson shook himself, looked around, and then dove to the ground as bullets shredded the air where he had stood. He rolled to where his crossbow had fallen, reloaded and once again joined the fray.
