by Derek Gunn
With that Harris stormed out of the house and vented his anger as he slammed another magazine into his weapon.
Group Bravo was pinned down just inside the city wall. Dan Reiss and his team had stormed through the breach in the wall only to be met by a hail of gunfire. Reiss dove to the ground and bullets passed only inches above him. He hit the ground hard and rolled, coming up in a crouch behind a large piece of the destroyed wall. Four of his team had not been quite as quick and bullets had shredded them before he could shout a warning. Five others had thrown themselves to the ground and had managed to crawl it into the city but now lay behind whatever cover they could find, curled up and helpless as bullets hammered into their cover and the ground around them.
The rest of Reiss” force was still on the wrong side of the wall.
He sneaked a glance around his cover. Six thralls with a heavy machine gun were dug in behind sandbags about thirty meters away.
“Shit!” he shouted and dodged back behind cover an instant before bullets hammered into the stone. “Just our luck. We would have to blow a fucking hole in the wall right beside an entrenchment, wouldn’t we?”
The sound of the machine gun fire stopped and Reiss risked another quick look. The thrall controlling the heavy machine gun lay slumped over his weapon and two of the others were frantically trying to pull him away. Suddenly he heard a high-pitched crack and a second thrall fell facedown, the back of his head completely destroyed.
“Warkowski, you big, beautiful bastard!” he shouted when he realised what had happened. He signalled the other five members of his team and then broke cover and sent deadly suppressing fire into the remaining thralls. Caught completely unawares by the sudden turn of events, the thralls died without firing another shot.
“Come on quick!” he shouted to the rest of his force and they climbed over the rubble to advance on the main barracks. Reiss looked back to the building where he knew Warkowski was set up and, even though he couldn’t see the sniper, waved his thanks.
Warkowski saw the figure wave through his scope. “You’re welcome,” he muttered.
He scanned the area surrounding the breach. Confidant that he had cleaned out all the thralls in his designated area, he laid down the rifle and prepared to enter the city.
Scott Anderson led his small group over the rubble of the destroyed wall. The section they had chosen to enter was dark and deserted. They had purposely come in through the docks because no one had used the waterfront area for two years now since the vampires had taken over. The hospital was situated about one mile to the West and Anderson could hear the gunfire and screams of the other two groups to the East.
“Poor bastards,” he sighed and then slipped through the darkness.
Chapter 13
The thralls were using an old police building as their base of operations. The sheer size of the three-storey building was intimidating. It seemed to loom over Reiss and his men. The building overlooked a small square in front and smaller, one-storey buildings abutted it to either side. All the windows had bars on them and Reiss could see figures behind the frames as well as on the roof.
The square was completely clear of any debris, and the two hundred yards between their current position and the building was the perfect killing ground.
“Jenkins!” shouted Reiss. “Go round the back and cause enough of a diversion to take some of the heat off. Rodgers; see if you can find anything we can use in that entrenchment we passed.”
Reiss risked a quick glance around the corner and recoiled violently as dust and debris flew into his eyes when bullets slammed into the wall. “Shit,” he muttered, looking up at the sky, “only another ten minutes till dawn. We’re running out of time.”
Just then he heard a whoosh behind him, followed by a loud explosion, and finally a rebel yell. He looked around the corner again and this time the door to the building was in pieces. In fact, plaster and metal littered the entire area in front of the door.
“Look what I found!” The excited yelp came from a still grinning Rodgers who knelt to Reiss” left holding a smoking bazooka.
“Quick everyone!” Reiss shouted. “Let’s get in there before they recover.”
The men ran from their various hiding places and swarmed the building. The thralls recovered quickly, however, and bullets began to rain down from the upper windows and rooftop entrenchments. Men scattered under the ferocious assault. Reiss heard two more of his men scream and he watched helplessly as they fell to the ground. Anger blinded Reiss; he crashed against what was left of the door supports and threw a grenade inside. He waited impatiently for the explosion and then dove through before the dust had time to settle.
The interior was dark. Dust from the explosion filled the air and he could hear intermittent coughing as more of his men entered the foyer.
“Spread out!” he ordered. “Rodgers, take three men and clear out upstairs. Perkins, check out that door at the back. The rest of you, come with me.”
Reiss was headed for the basement stairs when he heard a strangled cry behind him. He whirled in time to see a dark figure appear from the alcove, holding Perkins by the neck. The figure held the struggling man three feet off the ground by only one hand. Reiss blanched.
He looked out at the night sky and saw the first tentative rays of dawn appear over the horizon. Shit, he thought, at least another five minutes before the bustard’s in any danger. Christ, he could kill all of us and be back in his coffin in plenty of time.
The sudden, sharp snap focused everyone’s attention on the figure; Perkins ceased struggling and went limp. The creature threw the body across the room indifferently, with sheer, awesome power. The men watched in shock as the body crashed through a boarded-up window and hung limply over the windowsill, half in and half out of the room.
Then the vampire simply disappeared.
Reiss heard a cry behind him and turned to see the creature attacking Jack Walton.
Fuck, he’s fast, Reiss thought. But before the thought was completed, another of his team flew across the room like a rag doll and crashed heavily against the wall.
He’s playing with us! Reiss glanced up again at the brightening sky.
Three men remained standing. Reiss looked around frantically for something to shoot at. Then the man to his left simply disappeared as if the floor had swallowed him whole. Reiss ran straight at the only other figure left standing. Just before he reached the man, a dark shape suddenly appeared between them. He got a quick impression of a pale face and impossibly long teeth, and then he felt the impact.
Reiss crashed into the vampire. Both of them went reeling across the room and hit the wall hard. Reiss felt the wind driven from his lungs. He slid to the ground and lay gasping on all fours. His chest hurt where he had collided with the vampire and he forced himself to take small breaths to ease the pain. Dust filled the air and Reiss cried out when the chalky dryness forced him to cough. Fresh pain racked his body, but it served to focus his mind. He suddenly remembered the vampire and he looked up frantically as he searched for where it had gone. He saw the creature across the room impaled on the remains of the boards covering the window where Perkins” body still lay over the sill. It had gotten stuck at an awkward angle till now but was just now pulling itself free as Reiss regained his feet.
Despite the multiple punctures it had received the creature merely grinned as it pulled itself away from the wooden shards with a sickening, wet sound and Reiss was frozen to the spot in terror. Suddenly, it stopped, shuddered, and then howled as a large hole appeared through its upper body. The hole expanded and blood poured from the wound in torrents. Reiss watched as more holes began to appear until the whole body came apart and literally melted in front of him.
“What the hell?” Reiss exclaimed. His mind raced, and then the first tendrils of sunlight pushed against the shadows around the window as they crept into the room.
Of course, he thought, sunrise, and not a minute too soon.
Reiss looked
around and sighed in relief when some of his men began to rise from where they had fallen.
“Thank God he was playing with us, eh?” The question came from Rodgers, who was the only man who hadn’t been attacked. Reiss looked over at the young man. He was tall, that was the first thing anyone noticed about Rodgers, that and his idiotic grin of course. Reiss considered himself a good height at 6-foot-2, but he had to look up to this kid. He couldn’t be more than twenty-five, Reiss thought, and had to smile himself when he saw Rodgers break into another wide grin.
“Can I ask you a question?” Rodgers asked.
“Go ahead.”
“How did you know he’d go for me next?”
“I didn’t.”
Just then the door to the basement burst open and thralls poured in.
Bullets flew everywhere and both sides dove for cover. Rodgers staggered back, clutching his left arm, and collapsed against the stairs. Reiss felt a bullet fly past his cheek before he was able to move and he brought up his own weapon and fired a sustained burst blindly towards the thralls before leaping behind the nearest cover. Two of the guards were caught in the hail and they pirouetted wildly with each impact.
“Shit!” Reiss looked at his watch again. The two-hour window restriction and the threat of reinforcements from other barracks made the timing of this whole operation very tight. The nearest barracks of any size was twenty miles across town and they had factored in a twenty-five-minute response time.
That left only ten more minutes before they would be over-run.
Chapter 14
Scott Anderson and his group kept to the shadows while they ran through the city. The area was completely deserted, but they could see an occasional building with lights on and decided that they’d play it safe. The sounds of fighting still raged behind them, and they had seen at least one patrol on their way to the battle. Their group was too small to successfully carry out an ambush, so they could only hide and watch helplessly while the patrol passed by.
They came to the hospital grounds shortly after that and entered over the wall to the east of the building. Scott led his group across the overgrown grounds to the main wing. The night was still full dark and dawn was some fifteen minutes away when he saw the glow of a cigarette by the door. He jumped to the ground and tackled his brother, who hadn’t seen the sentry. Both of the men hit the grass hard.
“What?” Bill began, but stopped immediately when he saw his brother motion for silence and point to the hospital entrance. Two thralls stood in front of the main door.
“Oh shit,” Bill whispered. “Not as abandoned as we’d hoped, huh?”
“There must be something mighty important in there for them to have stayed with that racket going on back there.” Pritchard nodded towards the sounds of fighting behind them.
Scott nodded his agreement. “We’ll have to find another way in.”
The sound of breaking glass seemed to fill the night. Each member of the small group cringed at the noise and seemed to hold their breaths as they strained to hear any sound of response.
“Careful,” Scott Anderson looked balefully at his brother who merely shrugged and pursed his lips.
“Do you want to take over?” Bill looked indignant, but he continued to remove the sharp fragments from the window frame and throw them onto the grass behind him. The two brothers were famous for their quick tempers, but everyone knew that the constant sparks that flew between them were purely cosmetic.
The group had spent the last ten minutes looking for an alternative entrance, but the building had proved to be more of a fortress than a hospital. Finally, they had come across a small window set below ground level in a small hollow and, as it was the only window that didn’t have light coming from within, they had decided to make their entry from there. Even though the window was in a strange depression they still had to dig a small trench around the area just to get at it properly.
“Who the fuck puts a window below ground?” Bill asked no-one in particular as he ripped at the ground with his bare hands and cursed every few seconds as small stones tore at his skin.
“Not what you’d expect from an abandoned hospital is it?” Pritchard whispered. “We’ll have to hurry; the sun is starting to come up.”
Both brothers turned and gave Pritchard a withering look.
“You think?” the brothers replied with a sneer.
“Okay, I was just reminding you.” Pritchard said defensively and then turned away as if uncomfortable with the brothers” stares.
Finally Bill finished and pulled himself through the narrow opening and into the room. The rest of the group waited nervously outside, all of them riveted on the small, dark opening. After what seemed an eternity, Bill Anderson’s face appeared and he motioned for them to follow. The room beyond was tiny and it barely held the whole group as they assembled within. Scott was last in and immediately joined his brother by the door.
“Locked!” Bill Anderson spat out the word like a curse.
“Of course,” Scott sighed. “This night just gets better and better. Next we’ll find half the vampires in the city on the other side of the door.”
“Don’t tempt fate,” warned Hackett as he pushed them aside and bent down to examine the lock. He grunted and then took a small wallet from his pocket and took two tiny metal tools from within and began to fiddle with them in the lock. The tools looked tiny in the grip of his huge hands but, within a few seconds, there was a muffled clunk and he suddenly stood up grinning. He looked sheepish when he noticed the others staring at him. “Result of a rather colourful youth, I’m afraid.”
Scott smiled and opened the door just far enough to look into the corridor. “Well, at least the vampires didn’t turn up,” he said before he opened the door fully and stepped out.
“Not yet, you mean,” Bill answered gloomily and followed him out.
“What are we looking for?” John Pritchard asked when the group had reached the end of the corridor.
Scott was about to respond when Jenny White interrupted.
“We used to keep the supplies in the basement before the vampires took over, so let’s start there,” she said and moved to take the lead. This was the first time she had made her presence felt within the group and Scott assumed that the familiar surroundings of the wards gave her confidence. The corridor was dimly lit by the first rays of the new dawn coming in through the window behind them. Scott felt very exposed in the open area and kept glancing around as if expecting company.
They passed numerous rooms, all of which were closed and locked. Scott paused to look through the glass partition of a few of the doors, but could see nothing other than empty beds stretching back into the darkness.
“This is getting weird,” he thought. “Why clean up and lock all the rooms? Why are there guards out front?”
Every other building not used by the thralls had been left to deteriorate; even the ones where people still lived were slums. The serum ensured that the populace was kept in line, but it also ensured that people did not even have enough free will to make their surroundings comfortable. Scott shook himself back to reality and hurried after the group.
They reached a door emblazoned with a sign that depicted a stairwell. When they entered, they had to stop briefly and wait for their eyes to adjust to the darkness.
“Damn!” said Scott Anderson. “We have to hurry. We’re due back at the wall in twenty minutes and we haven’t found so much as a condom yet.” He retook the lead and proceeded down the stairs. The enclosed space and the lack of light weighed heavily on the group. The short distance to the basement seemed to take an inordinate amount of time, but, finally, Scott felt the door handle and gripped it as a drowning man would a lifeline. He turned the handle slowly and opened the door.
The basement was illuminated so brightly that he was totally blinded when he opened the door. Spots swam in his vision and he closed the door rapidly and waited precious seconds as he waited for his eyes to recover.
&nbs
p; “There’s someone down here,” he whispered. “There are more lights on down here than in Times Square.”
The group readied their weapons and this time opened the door a crack to allow their eyes to adjust. Once they were ready they slipped out one by one into the corridor.
The door opened out onto a long corridor. To the left it continued on for another two hundred yards, with many rooms dotted along its length, and culminated in what seemed to be a dead end. All the doors were closed and dark. To the right there were double swing doors and, through these, a large open-plan room. The swing doors had small, in-built glass partitions, just like the wards. Scott Anderson crouched just below the partitions and peeked inside.
He could see two men in white coats. One was bent over a machine and the top of his bald head shone brightly in the fluorescent lighting. The second sat at a desk writing. Scott pushed the door open with the barrel of his machine gun and checked out the rest of the room.
The room’s stark, neat efficiency was in total contrast to the rest of the city. The work surfaces were clear, except for neatly ordered rows of phials and bottles. In the far corner there was a large collection of cardboard boxes. Anderson leaned in further and caught a glimpse of three more people busily filling the boxes with bottles. The workers were obviously drugged. They shuffled from the boxes to the table where the bottles were stored.
The serum! The thought leapt into Scott’s mind. Of course! That explains the security on the door. This is where they make it. We’ve hit the mother load. Without further delay Anderson motioned the others to follow and entered the room. “Okay, move away from the desks and put your hands behind your heads.”
The loud voice startled the men in the white coats and they froze like deer caught in a car’s headlights and stared at the armed group that entered the room. Scott moved toward the men and the other four spread out to look for supplies they could use.
