by Paul Cave
“You’re too late …”
He turned towards the girl and saw that her bottom lip was clamped tightly between her teeth. Her eyes had filled with tears. Sparkling liquid ran down both sides of her face, clearing two paths of grime as they fell.
“What is it?” Jacob asked.
She struggled to find her voice. Then a huge sob escaped from her constricted throat. “MY MOTHER’S DEAD..!”
Chapter Six
Daniel Harper crashed through the undergrowth in pursuit of the vampire. He ducked under wilted foliage, jumped over exposed roots and kept up the chase. As he tracked the vampire, he felt cruel branches whip his face, hands and legs. Ignoring the occasional cut, he closed in on the undead fugitive.
He broke through rotten undergrowth to find himself within a small hollow. The clearing was empty. His head tilted as he strained to hear the sounds of flight. He heard only the beat of his heart. Quickly, he circled around the clearing, looking for any breaks in its boundary. He found none so quickly returned to his point of origin.
He stood, sucking in air, waiting for his breath to return. His heart steadied. He felt a rhythmic beat of pain throb at the side of his face. Reaching up, he found a deep laceration to one of his cheeks. His hand dropped away and blood dripped from his fingers. He heard the snap of twigs, followed by a laboured breath, coming from behind. Daniel held his position, thinking his brother was about to catch up. He continued to watch the dark bush ahead. Yet, unexpectedly, Elliot Harper appeared directly in front. He broke through the dense foliage and stopped on the opposite side of the trees.
“What the …?” Daniel breathed.
“Daniel, LOOK OUT!” Elliot warned.
The younger brother spun around. He had a moment to see a demented face leer towards him. A second later he was hit with bone-crunching force that sent him through the air. He landed heavily on his back and the air exploded from his lungs. The world became suddenly darker. In the next instant something that was infinitely darker than the shadows fell upon him.
Bloodied fangs snapped at Daniel’s face. He threw his arms out in front of him to block the vampire’s attack. In a blurred frenzy of fangs, Thomas struck out, aiming for the young brother’s throat. Daniel folded his arm inwards and lashed out, catching his assailant across the chin. White fragments of enamel flew from the vampire’s mouth. Daniel drew his arm back and hit out again. Thomas read the assault. The vampire’s huge fist caught the arm in its powerful grip. Daniel’s other arm flashed towards him and again his powerful grip held the attack at bay.
Trapped by the vampire’s vice-like hold, Daniel was pressed to the ground with his arms held apart. He struggled to free himself and watched in terror as the mouth above opened impossibly wide to reveal razor-sharp fangs. He looked into this bloody maw and saw an empty cavity. The vampire lowered his fangs. Blood sprayed out of this amputated flesh. Daniel choked as the fountain of blood found its way into the back of his throat. A savage roar escaped from the mutilated vampire. Thomas drew even closer, then opened his jaws wider yet.
“ELLIOT …!” Daniel cried, coughing and spluttering.
“HEY – FUCKER!”
Thomas twisted his vile physiognomy upwards. A dark, circular object blocked out the field of view to his right eye. He had a second of semi-blindness, followed by a nanosecond of incredible enlightenment.
Elliot jammed the gun against the vampire’s eye. He squeezed the trigger. And in doing so he sent the hateful abomination to a darker place.
“Are you okay?” Elliot asked his brother.
Daniel crawled from under the body, pulling himself clear.
“Are you okay?” the older brother asked again.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Daniel replied, shakily.
Seeing the blood that covered his younger brother’s face, Elliot asked anxiously, “Did he bite you?”
“What?”
“Did you get bitten?”
“I … I don’t think so,” Daniel said, and ran his hands over his bare skin.
“Let me see,” Elliot said.
“I’m fine!” Daniel snapped.
“Let me see,” the older brother ordered.
Daniel expelled a weary sigh. “Okay, whatever.”
“All this blood - none of it’s yours?” Elliot asked.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, you’re all right,” Elliot said. “Wipe that shit off your face.”
Daniel drew his hand into the sleeve of his patchwork jacket and used its cuff to wipe away at the layer of blood that stained his face. He spat out a mouthful of bitter bile then dropped his hand to his side.
“How do I look?” he asked.
“Beautiful,” Elliot spat back. “Don’t ever do that again.”
Daniel’s pale but angelic face grinned back at him.
“Let’s go,” Elliot said. He turned away from the corpse at his feet. It took just three or four strides before the forest swallowed him whole.
Daniel took one last look at the disfigured vampire, and then followed his brother. It was only later, once back in the underground cavern, when he realised that the trip back through the forest had somehow seemed much brighter.
Chapter Seven
Scuffed, military boots – which had walked a thousand miles - thudded heavily. The lean vampire warrior strode purposefully across the open hallway. He was dressed in a dark uniform, covered in a layer of dust. Four daggers had been crudely stitched onto the shoulder of his uniform, indicating his high rank. As he drew closer to the centre of the chamber, his eyes darted nervously from the face of a small boy, to the figure sitting purposefully on a dais.
The little boy, who was perched on the lip of the platform, looked up and smiled.
The vampire tensed.
The young brow furrowed. The boy appeared confused by the vampire’s unease. He smiled again as if the first had gone unnoticed.
Finally, the vampire acknowledged the greeting with a weak grin. The little boy’s eyes sparkled, and he clapped his hands excitedly, forcing the figure on the dais to look up from the maps laid out before him.
“Brother Isaac,” the figure greeted the newcomer.
The vampire soldier dropped to one knee. “Master Ezekiel,” he said, with his head bowed.
“What news do you bring?” asked Ezekiel, leader of the undead.
Isaac stood. “We found another camp, about fifty miles or so south of here.”
“And?”
“And I believe we’re close.”
“How close?”
“Very.”
The previous night, Isaac had discovered the weak embers of a campfire. Scattered about the glowing ash had been a half-dozen or so bodies - all vampires. None wore any clan insignia, so were probably mere scavengers. Not unusual in itself, but one of the slain undead had shown signs of something strange, something that was deeply worrying to Isaac.
He had found a headless body, nothing too unusual in that. However the condition of the wound had been very unusual. The damage to the flesh had not come from a blade or the powerful destruction of a high calibre firearm either, but appeared to be the result of some kind of explosion - an internal explosion. Isaac was accustomed to the sight of mutilation, but this strange wound had worried him. The flesh around the bloodied stump had not been ripped or cut, but rather cauterized.
Isaac had seen this type of wound before, once or twice, and he knew only one type of weapon could have created such an injury.
Light.
UV light to be precise.
“I found the same wounds as before,” Isaac said.
“Are you sure?” Ezekiel asked.
“Yes, master, I’m sure.”
The vampire leader nodded. “Good work, Brother Isaac.” Ezekiel spread his arms across the table before dropping his head over the maps. Directly to the side of the maps lay a large handgun. As always, the safety was off. He sat silent for a few minutes. �
��This changes nothing,” he announced, deciding their strategy would continue as planned.
“But Master, we must be-”
A raised hand cut short Isaac’s warning.
“Isaac, we will proceed as planned. One little … incident will not slow us down. We’re too close.”
The vampire warrior bowed respectfully. “Yes, master. We are very close to our ultimate triumph. But we must not underestimate our adversary’s strength. Although they are weak in numbers, they still pose a considerable threat. If they were to develop this technique, then our plans could be endangered. We, as a race would be endangered.”
“We proceed as planned,” the leader repeated, for the final time. The stern look that followed silenced any argument.
Isaac nodded. “As you wish.” He bowed, then quickly strode away from the dais and disappeared out of the chamber.
Once the warrior had gone, Ezekiel reached out, taking the firearm. He looked at the weapon as if it could offer some sort of guidance. He sighed; the only thing the gun was good for was tearing flesh and bone. With a flick of his dark thumb, he clicked the safety on. Then his eyes dropped to the child at the edge of the platform.
Ezekiel smiled, a brief flash of ivory and menace. The vampire ran his hand over his own scalp in a comforting motion. He felt what was left of his hair. Not a lot. His entire scalp was a smooth black dome of skin, with just a hint of white hair at the back and sides. He had small shell-like ears, and the frames of wire-rimmed spectacles wrapped themselves around them, giving him the look of a scholar. Standing at just five foot eight inches, he was considerably shorter than most. He had broad shoulders, and his arms looked as if they’d been ripped from a wrestler then pinned onto his lean torso. Powerful hands were attached to slim wrists and, although his fingers were thick and calloused, they hid a hidden grace and dexterity.
He positioned a finger and thumb underneath the lenses of his spectacles, and massaged the tiredness from his eyes.
His hand dropped to his side and he found the child before him. “Good boy,” he said, and placed one of his large hands on the boy’s head. He patted gently and the child’s eyes drooped heavily as he swooned under the man’s affection. A colossal yawn escaped from the child’s mouth.
Ezekiel smiled wistfully. The innocence of a child, he thought. How sad that it only lasted for the most fleeting of moments. Once, even he had been an innocent child, playing in the afternoon sun. That had been a long, long time ago. And now those days of innocence were just a vague memory, so faint they hardly seemed real.
Sometimes he wondered what the sun would feel like as it graced his bare skin. Would he have a moment of pure pleasure before its deadly UV rays began to scorch the flesh? Possibly. He knew that eventually the Earth would heal itself, and in doing so the sun would return to this land, forcing him and his race to hide like cowards in the resultant shadows. Already he had begun to differentiate between day and night, as the sky above lightened with each passing of the sun.
Soon the skies would clear, destroying the perpetual night, and then they would be forced into exile.
Ezekiel looked at the boy and found him almost asleep. Carefully, he picked him up. Held him in his powerful arms. The vampire sat, cradling the boy. Eyelashes fluttered as the child fell into a fitful sleep. Looking at the boy’s handsome face, Ezekiel caught a brief flash of dazzling eyes, flint grey with slivers of bright blue and green. Then, finally, the weight of tiredness pulled the boy into its lulling arms and his face relaxed as he slept.
The vampire leaned forwards to pick up the firearm. He clicked the safety off, then let his eyes rest on the open archway to the chamber.
These were troubling times. There were enemies close at hand as well as those who hid within the bowels of the Earth. But soon Ezekiel would conquer all, and then he and his brethren would thrive in the eternal torrent of blood that he was about to bequeath upon this world.
***
Isaac entered the flickering light of the campfire. Three cloaked figures moved nearer, close enough so curious ears could not hear.
“What news?” one dark shape asked.
Isaac turned to the speaker. His fangs glinted malevolently as he spoke. “Ezekiel does not waver. He keeps to the original plan.”
Another vampire drew near. “What about the camp – and the body found there? You warned him of that, yes?”
“Yes,” Isaac confirmed. “But our master does not think it is a sufficient threat to warrant a delay.”
“Then he is a fool,” the first speaker spat.
“Quiet!” Isaac hissed. The vampire lieutenant looked around with nervous eyes.
The flames they stood around were a single flicker of light, caught within the inferno of a hundred different burning campfires. Flames sputtered, sounding like the snap of a thousand bullwhips. The sky above had taken on a lighter hue, imitating day, covering the undead beneath in a glare of artificial sunlight. Thousands of tents covered the field in which they stood in a seamless canvas blanket that stretched for miles in all directions.
Huge vehicles were parked awkwardly, or abandoned, their fuel tanks bled dry. Like gigantic tamed beasts, eighteen-wheeler trucks, decorated with machinegun turrets, spikes and other indescribably inhumane objects sat silent, waiting for their masters’ return. Other vehicles were dotted around the camp and, in the flicker of light, front grills appeared to snap and snarl at the legs of those who stood around them. Now, with the lack of gasoline, most of the undead army had been forced to travel on foot; thousands of worn-down boots marching towards the extinction of Man.
Isaac’s eyes narrowed. He scanned the immediate vicinity, but found all those around them preoccupied with the preparations of battle. Most of the soldiers were either resting or checking firearms, and oblivious to those around them.
“Do not fear, my brothers, I have taken steps towards accomplishing our plan,” Isaac said.
“You mean the assassin?” asked one of the vampires.
Isaac’s thin face grinned with dangerous intent. “Yes, our slayer is very close to infiltrating the humans’ lair.”
“You know this for sure?” the vampire quizzed.
“Trust me, Brother Jeremiah, we will not fail.”
Jeremiah tilted his head upwards. He looked up at the illuminated sky above. A thick cloud of dust churned violently from east to west.
“The price of failure will be immeasurable,” he remarked, dropping his eyes back to Isaac’s face.
“Then we’d better pray our plan works,” the lieutenant said. “Or we’ll be seeing out our days in the glare of humanity.”
Chapter Eight
Ezekiel laid the child gently down. With a sleepy murmur the infant boy nestled into the thick woollen blanket. The vampire pulled the blanket high, covering the child and forcing the night chill to seek out another soul to torment. A dark hand brushed a lock of brown hair away from the boy’s smooth brow. Such a handsome child, Ezekiel thought, as he watched the boy sleep.
He turned away and withdrew from the tight sleeping quarters. A long time ago the room had caged a ruthless serial killer. As Ezekiel strode past the rows of iron bars, he could smell the rank odour of his brethren, sleeping in an attempt to slow the onslaught of hunger. Once again, these prison cells were home to men of sin and immorality.
Damn this wretched world, Ezekiel thought, as he made his way outside. He remembered the start, when his race had first emerged from the shadows. The bounty had been plentiful to begin with. What had survived had been confused and disorientated, and easy prey. Not now. The surviving humans had become smart, hiding in their dark underground sanctuaries.
Ezekiel found himself in an open courtyard. To the left of the exercise yard was another set of gates like the ones through which he’d just passed, and beyond them were the chambers that contained the breeding cells.
Never, not once, had he ventured into these terrible holding pens. He had heard a lot about them; indeed, it had been his ide
a to attempt to breed humans with his own kind. Desperation and the insistent whisperings of his ‘trusted’ lieutenant, Isaac, had clouded his judgment. Conversely, rather than producing the provisions needed, they had instead conceived a brood of the undead.
Ezekiel sighed.
His people needed food, and soon.
The unexpected scrape of a boot sounded from the left. Squinting, Ezekiel saw the outline of four shapes. He took a step to his right, and the flickering light from beyond the prison walls revealed a glint of gunmetal.
The vampire leader took a step closer. “What is this?” he commanded.
A voice that Ezekiel recognised said, “Time for a bit of fun.”
It was a voice he’d once trusted.
The speaker cleared the shadows, and Ezekiel looked upon a hideous female face.
“Bara, what is this?” he asked.
A face of bloated flesh spoke. “We’re taking this … whore for breeding.”
Two well-muscled soldiers stood behind the overweight vampire, holding between them the slight figure of a young woman. The flicker of light revealed a skinny teenager, clamped tightly between the soldiers. The teenager looked directly at the vampire leader, and Ezekiel saw fear clear in her eyes. He looked from one soldier to the next, and found only lust in theirs. Time for fun indeed, he thought.
“Who gave those orders?” he asked.
The jailer grinned slyly. “Brother Isaac.”
Damn that fool, Ezekiel thought. “My orders were to suspend any attempts to mate with these humans.”
“But there is no food,” Bara retorted. Her words had not been an observation but rather criticism, which was aimed at the man standing before her.
Ezekiel gritted his teeth. “I am aware of the … situation, but still, there have been too many failures with the cross-breeding.”
“Then we’ll mate her with one of her own kind,” Bara said.
