Vampire Apocalypse

by J. Thorn

  He turned sideways and raised an arm toward the front line of V.I. vampires who were flashing their swords in warm-up maneuvers. Silven pointed at the far eastern edge of the line where a winged vampire pushed through the ranks.

  “Traitor,” said Voldare.

  “Tun has come to realize what the Vampire Independents have known for decades. This is as good as it will ever get, Voldare. Do not fool yourself into seeing the past with the foolish eyes of an optimist—such a human shortcoming. Before the global scourge and the eradication of the humans, we had to hide in shame, slithering out of holes to hunt our prey like filthy rats through garbage. We hid our lifestyle, our appearance, our very existence. Sure, we disagree on how to regulate our food stores, but we are much better off now than we ever could have been before.”

  “You don’t know this,” Voldare said. “You don’t know how things could have been different because they’re not.”

  “Correct. And they won’t be because this is the only way it should have been.”

  Silven thrust a hand into his pocket, pulled out his fist and opened his hand so only Voldare could see the charm in his palm.

  “I cannot let her erase all of this and I’m disappointed you would even attempt it.”

  “If she has been—”

  “Relax,” said Silven, putting the Locket of Lir back in his pocket. “She is safe and will have the choice to join the V.I. once we defeat you. Female vamps are rare creatures. Did you really think we would kill her before we could…use her?” he asked, smiling.

  Voldare’s chest heaved, and his eyes flashed red.

  “What were her odds?”

  “What?” Voldare asked.

  “Her odds,” said Silven. “I’m sure you calculated them. Getting back to within a year of the outbreak? A thousand to one? Ten thousand to one? Surely not even that promising. She is barely a vampire and without even a working knowledge of the locket. Yet, you believed she’d be able to return at the precise moment that she must to stop a global pandemic. I gave you more credit than you deserved.”

  “It is worth the risk. This,” Voldare said, his arms spread wide, “is not an existence worth having. I would rather take my chances on the woman vampire than remain here without hope.”

  “Excellent,” said Silven. “In that, we’re in full agreement. For you, here, there is no hope.”

  Silven’s sword thrust upward and punctured the vampire’s abdomen, the tip piercing vital organs as it exited at the top of Voldare’s throat. Silven pulled him into a deadly embrace and whispered in his ear, “We won’t let you die yet, my old friend. I believe your lady friend would like a word with you.”

  Voldare gurgled, blood pouring from the corner of his mouth and dripping off his chin.

  “My scientists told me to coat my blade with juniper sap, as it would incapacitate you during your final moments. And Tun? He was the one who told me you’d leave yourself vulnerable when we met each other out here before the battle. You’ve been betrayed, my brother.”

  Silven withdrew his sword from Voldare’s gut and spun him around to face the Bloodline.

  “He is alive, but only at my mercy. I am taking him as a prisoner of war. Should you defeat us, you can claim his head.”

  He spun back around, grabbing a hold of Voldare’s left wing and pushing the dying vampire toward the V.I. line while the shrieks of the Bloodline rose to greet the blustery gale.

  ***

  Tun appeared on Samantha’s right, his eyes down and fixated on the blowing dirt.

  “He’s going to die because of you.”

  The vampire shook his head and looked up as Silven frog-marched Voldare toward them.

  “He would have died regardless,” Tun said to Sam.

  “You sold him out.”

  Sam didn’t exactly know how she knew this, but there were a lot things about her vampire instincts that she had yet to understand.

  “Self-preservation, my lady. This is the only future for us. Voldare is delusional and you’ve warped his mind with your emotion,” Tun said.

  She could see Voldare’s face and death in his eyes. Silven kept hold of Voldare’s wing and Sam believed it was the only thing that kept the leader of the Bloodline from falling to the ground. Tun took a step forward, reaching underneath Voldare’s arm and leading him to the tree where the two V.I. guards wrapped chains around his wrists and ankles. Tun then turned to face Silven, his face hard and blank.

  “I kept my word. Now, you must keep yours.”

  Silven smiled and Samantha saw the flash of his blade within his fangs.

  “Of course, Tun. You traded me Voldare’s life for your freedom. You shall have it.”

  Silven nodded and the two guards behind Tun thrust their swords into his back. At first, the vampire stiffened, his chin jutting out and up, defiant in the face of death. The guards withdrew their blades from his flesh and his body crumpled to the ground as if they’d yanked out his spine as well. Silven bent down and turned his head sideways. He reached out and lifted Tun’s chin with two fingers.

  “You wanted a release from this life. You wanted your freedom. I hereby grant it to you, vampire. You’ll no longer be shackled to the darkness or a hopeless, everlasting future.”

  Silven nodded again and this time, when the guards rolled Tun on to his back, dark, rich blood oozed from the two puncture wounds in his chest. Silven drew his sword, raised it above his head and brought it down on Tun’s neck, separating his head from the rest of his body.

  Samantha turned away and Voldare’s head dropped to his chest. He shook, his hands bound together in his lap.

  The Bloodline continued to shriek and wail, now bringing their battle lines tight and fast.

  “They’re coming,” Silven said to his V.I. warriors. “Battle stance.”

  Samantha stared at Silven through her tears. She watched his black cape swing from side to side as his army followed him into battle.

  “There are things I need to say to you,” Voldare said.

  Sam turned and stared into his face. She mourned what would never be and hoped for what could be, the emotions and time-travel consequences spinning her mind in rapid circles. When Voldare coughed, blood splattered his teeth and sprayed from his mouth.

  “I thought you had to be decapitated to die?”

  Voldare shivered, his body shaking and rattling the chains. He waited for it to pass before answering her.

  “There are other means of killing us. Poisons. It does not matter now. You need to listen.”

  Samantha nodded, allowing the dying vampire to continue.

  “I cannot teach you how to use the locket. No one here can. But you used it to get here, so there is a chance you can use it to return as well.”

  “What if I can’t? What if I don’t know how to point it to the correct year?”

  “Then this future will be the future. There is nothing else to be done.”

  She nodded.

  “When you return to your present, go to Atlanta. At the offices of the Center for Disease Control is a high-ranking doctor who will know how to combat the pandemic. If you help him stop it, you might prevent this future.”

  “Why must I go?” she asked.

  “Because he needs a sample of the virus from a survivor in order to create an antidote.”

  “The virus which is now in my system,” she said, answering her own question. “I drank the blood you gave me, the blood from a human whose family line survived the pandemic.”

  “Yes.”

  “You planned this, planned it from the time you brought me the cup.”

  “Like it was the Grail itself. Now, the Grail is not just in you. It is you.”

  The enormity of her responsibility for…the fate of the world began to hit her. She just wanted to get back to her kids. Not this. But she didn’t have a choice.

  Voldare coughed again and this time, blood flew from his mouth in globs of thick, syrupy strands.

  “Give me a name,” Sam sa
id. Voldare is dying.

  “His name is Dr. Franklin L. Stafford. I don’t know how you can get to him or if he’ll listen, but I know from our own history that he is the one who can prevent the pandemic. You must get to him.”

  Samantha committed the doctor’s name to memory. She pulled on the chains, trying to get closer to Voldare, but the links did not weaken.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” she said. “Come with me into the past.”

  Voldare smiled, his fangs covered in red.

  “My lifeline fades. But there might be another way.”

  Sam straightened and leaned as close as she could to Voldare. His voice came in raspy bursts now, each harder to hear than the one before.

  “If you get to Stafford, prevent the pandemic. Use the locket one more time. Go back to 1948 and turn me before I meet Mary. If you turn me, we’ll be bound together forever.”

  Samantha nodded, wiping the tears from her face.

  “But I don’t know if I can even use the locket again, let alone control my destination.”

  “And if that is true, I will die with the memories of our last kiss in my heart.”

  She turned to the battlefield where the V.I. and the Bloodline stood less than ten feet apart. The leaders barked commands down the lines and she spotted Silven’s feathered helmet in the middle. When Samantha turned back to speak to Voldare, his vacant eyes stared into the void.

  12

  As the sun dropped lower, leaving the sky as if descending into its own grave, Samantha felt the wind intensify. It tossed the tears from her face and muffled the cries of the vampire armies engaged in combat. She’d lost track of Silven in a darkening blur of talons and blood-stained swords. She had only seen one previous battle between the Bloodline and the V.I., but this one seemed more desperate, final.

  Without Voldare to moderate the violence and maintain a morbid balance of casualties, the vampires fought without restraint. The Bloodline sensed the loss of leadership and knew what was at stake while the V.I. smelled victory like a hungry shark smells blood.

  Sam yanked at the chains again, and yet again, they did not relent. She screamed into the darkening sky, but the wails of the wind drowned out her cries. Samantha kicked and thrashed while the lifeless body of Voldare continued staring into the sky.

  She thought about her mission, Voldare’s plea and the locket inside of Silven’s pocket in the middle of a vampire war. Sam looked at her wrists, slick and bloody and rubbed raw from the shackles.

  I can’t do this, she thought. I’ve failed my children and my own future.

  She closed her eyes and this time, she saw more than blackness. Sam detected the faint outlines of the fighting vampires as they stood on a translucent grid. She inhaled, keeping her eyes closed. She turned her head and the coordinates shifted and she now saw the silhouettes of a different group of vampires.

  Sam cleared her mind, ignoring the physical world and focusing hard on the projections in her mind.

  I’m growing into my powers, she thought.

  As if to answer her, the grid flared and she felt herself moving forward, despite being chained to the tree. Her time in the distant future and her exposure to highly evolved vampires began to enhance the abilities that she hoped she would eventually hone.

  Teleportation. I saw it foretold on the wall of the cave.

  Samantha sighed and tried to keep her emotions in check for fear of dispelling whatever magical moment spurred this new ability. This world was different and although her time here began to accentuate her powers, she had no way of knowing how long they would last.

  She followed the movement like a swimmer in a gentle current. Samantha floated above the battlefield, over the warring vampires and the invisible grid beneath all their feet.

  Silven.

  As if the movement followed her unspoken command, Samantha drifted to the left and recognized the outline of his helmet, the one shape unique to the leader of the V.I. The unseen power lowered her to the ground until she was next to him. Silven stood with his hands on his hips, breathing heavily as several dead vampires lay at his feet. He held a sword in his hand, but the tip was down and at ease. He turned quickly to look over one shoulder, and then the other.

  He can feel my presence but he can’t see me. I’m invisible.

  Samantha opened her eyes. She stood behind Silven, the strands of his long hair now brushing against her face. Samantha felt the burn coming from her gut until it clenched her jaw into a sneer. She raised both hands, thrust them forward and dug her fingers into the soft flesh of Silven’s throat.

  Silven gasped and reached over his shoulder to grab her wrists. He shook, but her hold on his throat felt like a noose. Silven dropped to his knees and yanked his arms down, pulling Samantha over top of his head and flipping her onto her back. She let go of his throat when the ground knocked the air from her lungs.

  “I knew this place would affect you. I had no idea it would be so soon,” Silven said, the words coming in raspy bursts.

  “I will kill you and take back the locket.”

  “Yes, of course,” he said.

  Samantha rolled over and jumped to her feet.

  Silven crouched down, arms out and facing her. “Take it,” he said.

  She lunged forward and Silven dodged to the side. She did it again and he dodged again.

  “Here,” he said, taking the Locket of Lir from his pocket and dangling it in front of her face. “You can have it.”

  Samantha watched as Silven swung the locket like a pendulum. He threw it over her head and into the weeds near the edge of the parking lot. She looked at him and then to the place where she believed the locket had landed.

  “What to do?” he asked. “Do you save your children or avenge your lover’s death?”

  Sam growled as he smirked at her.

  He is playing with you. Leave him and get the locket.

  “I know you want to taste my blood. You can get the locket after you kill me.”

  Run. Get the locket and run.

  The voice that had spoken to Sam back in the cave had returned.

  He taunts you. Ignore him and go.

  “We are not done,” Sam said.

  “Come and we will finish,” he said, curling a finger in an evil beckoning.

  Sam closed her eyes and screamed. She saw the locket on the grid in her mind and commanded the power to lift her from the ground. Her body flew to it while Silven raged behind her.

  “Teleportation,” Silven said to himself, grimacing with regret. “She is more advanced than she first seemed.”

  Sam reappeared on the edge of the road where she bent down to pick up the Locket of Lir. She placed it over her head and turned to take one last look at Silven. Two Bloodline vampires had engaged him and he swung his sword in sharp arcs at their heads, all the while turning his eyes toward her.

  “Get her.”

  Two V.I. warriors raced past Silven on his command, heading toward Sam with swords drawn. She saw them break through the melee and she turned to look at the gulley below. It looked like nothing but a dense forest that stretched forever.

  “Shit,” she said, looking back and forth between the approaching vampires and the maze of trees.

  Sam hesitated. She took a step toward the woods and then stopped. She put one leg over the guardrail as the vampires closed within fifty feet of her. They wore the mask of war and rage, the bloodlust dripping from their faces. She brought her other leg over the guardrail, deciding she could not win a fight with them. Whatever vampire power she’d activated, the energy that transported her on the battlefield was now gone. She felt as though it would be something she would be able to do more frequently as time went on, learning how to summon and direct it with more intention. Whether it was the stress of the moment or the direction of a more powerful force, Samantha had teleported out of danger, but now she faced a new threat and she’d have to face that threat without it.

  As she stood there, contemplating the situatio
n, she saw movement coming from her right. A pack of Bloodline vampires emerged from the shadows, the sun now almost completely behind the trees bringing a new darkness to the land. She saw the flutter of their waxen wings and their flashing, red eyes. The V.I. vampires pursuing her saw them at about the same time. They slowed to a trot and spun to face their enemy.

  A voice filled Sam’s head, the spirit of Voldare.

  Go, Sam. Just go.

  She hesitated again, as if concrete thickened around her ankles. The talons and swords clashed and the infernal, piercing cries of the warriors nudged her into motion. She took one last look at the battlefield—the skirmish fifty feet away—as well as the main conflict with Silven in the middle of it. With the last rays of the dying sun, Sam stepped from the parking lot and ran down the hill, hoping the cave would rise up to greet her, the locket now thrumming on her chest.

  At first, Sam saw nothing but trees, the bare branches reaching out to grab and hold her, slow her down. The future would not die peacefully, would not perish without a fight.

  But she inhaled and listened to the voice of the locket speaking in her mind.

  “East,” she said before darting to her right where she saw the white tips of snapped saplings, indicating where someone, most likely her, had come through. She ran through the forest, the sound of war becoming more muffled with each step. The land pitched downward and soon her feet moved without direction from her brain. Sam relaxed mentally, allowing her physical body to be drawn to the cave by the unseen powers.

  I have to hurry, she thought. There is something about the sunset that is tied to my mission. It feels like a countdown timer.

  Samantha ran harder, using her hands to knock low-hanging branches and brambles from her path. The light inside the forest faded to a faint glow and she relied on her accentuated vampire eyesight to see. The foliage thickened as the future conspired to save itself from Samantha’s voyage to the past. She fell, a tree root wrapping around her ankle. She crashed to the ground, a rock breaking several ribs and a tree opening a gash on her forehead.

  Get up. Hurry.

  She shook her leg and ignored the fire in her lungs. Sam ran harder, leaping over fallen trees and trusting the locket was guiding her to the cave. She felt the magnetic pull of the altar as if the locket needed to return home as well.