Blood Apocalypse - 04 (20 page)

“Well, Colonel, you know it will be vampires, right?”

“True, but how many?” Matt gave Roberts a knowing look. “It could be over a million, and that’s something we’ve just never had to deal with before.” He leaned back in his chair and gave him a stare. “Can you imagine a tsunami of cold-blooded bodies coming at you like that?”

Roberts went pale at the thought. “Honestly, no. To be completely honest, Colonel, I can’t imagine having to face
one
of them, much less…”

“So you can imagine where I’m coming from.” Matt leaned forward again, his eyes piercing Roberts. “True, we have rei
nforcements that we’ve never used before. And we have a few weapons in our arsenal that we don’t usually have. But all in all, this isn’t something that we have ever dealt with before.”

“Because of the massive numbers…”

“And their leader,” Matt added. “He’s not stoppable. And even if he were, we aren’t supposed to kill him. We’re supposed to
catch
him. This is totally unlike any situation we’ve ever faced.”

“Yeah, I can see what you mean,” Roberts added quietly, the depth of the situation finally sinking in. “Colonel, I know it isn’t much, but you know that my men and I are here for you.  Whatever you need for us to do, we’ll do it.”

Mitchell met Roberts gaze and it dawned on him that Roberts was offering him the lives of himself and his men; he couldn’t find the words to express the gratitude he felt for the man at that exact moment. He nodded to Captain Roberts, a tight smile forming across his mouth.

“Thank you, Captain. I know I can count on you and your boys to do what needs to be done.”

Before either man could say anything else, the intercom beeped on the colonel’s phone. Mitchell mashed the button and the base operator spoke through the speaker. “Colonel, you have the Pentagon for you on line two.”

He glanced back to Captain Roberts. “Captain, I better take this call. If it’s all the same, just leave the reports and I’ll go over them with my XO later. If we have any questions, I’ll give you a call.”

“That’ll be fine sir.”

As Captain Roberts left his office, Mitchell picked up the phone expecting the worse. He wasn’t disappointed.

14

Maria pulled Hank into the shadows and stole a kiss when she knew nobody could see them. Hank felt her melt into his arms, softening as their arms entwined around each other.

As they pulled away, catching their breath, she looked dee
ply at him and whispered, “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Me neither.” He lowered his eyes, unable to meet her piercing gaze.

“I can’t keep avoiding him. He already suspects something.”

“It’s only until after this operation, Maria,” Hank argued. “We both agreed that his role in this is too important to—”

“I know what we agreed to, but he’s making it pretty damned difficult.”

Hank sighed and stepped deeper into the shadows, pulling her after him. He lowered his voice even more, “Just keep trying to keep him at bay. Please, Maria, just a little longer.”

With a heavy heart she nodded and laid her forehead against his heavily muscled chest. “Just pray that he doesn’t press it, Hank. Please.”

“I do. Every moment that we are apart, I do.”

“So do I,” a voice from deeper in the darkness said, causing them both to jump. Hank pulled Maria behind him in a defensive gesture as Marshall stepped out of the darkness and into the gloomy light of the motor pool shop.

“What the hell, Dave? You been following us?” Maria a
lmost yelled.

Marshall gave her a sideways look. “Wasn’t that hard,” he quipped. “You look like a lovesick puppy.”

Maria muttered a few choice curses in Spanish before Hank shushed her. “What do you want, Marshall?” he asked defensively.

“The same damned thing you do, Padre.” Dave stared the older man down. “To keep Apollo’s head in the game until this thing is over.”

Hank raised a brow at his remark and studied the man. “So we can trust on you to keep this to yourself?”

Marshall shook his head at the two of them. “Honestly, P
adre, I don’t give a hoot what the two of you do. I just hope you keep your heads about you.” He made his way to the doorway. “If it were me, I’d avoid each other like the plague until this thing is over. Apollo will not be happy either way, but if you seriously don’t want him finding out about you two, then you need to curb yourselves a bit.” He paused at the doorway and stole a glance over his shoulder. “And for the love of Pete…go easy on the big guy when you do break it to him. I may not know him all that well, but he seems head over heels for you Sanchez. He deserves better than this.”

*****

Damien observed from a distance as one of the older and more aristocratic of Foster’s followers animatedly spoke with Paul. He couldn’t tell what was being said from where he was so he worked his way in that general direction and listened in as the older vampire argued for Paul’s mercy to be allowed to leave. He had brought his minions to fight in their name and for Paul and Thorn’s misguided cause, therefore there was no reason for him and his immediate family to be put in harm’s way. Damien noticed that Foster appeared almost bored with the vampire’s rant. The harder he argued for their release, the more Paul seemed to tire of hearing his voice.

Damien worked his way closer still and closer still until f
inally he was amid the group, listening to the man whine about how he was a lover, not a fighter. True, he had centuries under his belt, but he knew nothing of fighting. His family had always concentrated on gaining power by monetary means, not through battles. He could tell that Foster had stopped listening to his arguments long ago and was simply paying respect to his position by standing there when Damien decided to act. In less time than it took to think the thought, he dropped his fangs, descended his nails and slashed the vampire’s throat clean to his vertebrae, spraying black blood in all directions.

Paul almost displayed shock as he turned his gaze upon Damien for an explanation to his actions. As the elder vampire fell to the ground, gurgling his last thoughts in his own blood, Damien looked to his master, “Cowards shall not be tolerated, my lord.”

Slowly, the corners of Foster’s mouth curled upward and formed an evil smile. “No, my son. They shall not.” Paul leaned down and rent the elder vampire’s head from the remains of his neck and held it up at eye level. He chuckled lightly to himself before tossing it to one of his guards. “Place that on a stake for all to see. Let them know.
Cowards shall not be tolerated
,” Foster repeated and he began to laugh. He turned to leave then called over his shoulder, “Clean up your mess, Damien. We can’t be littering government property, now can we.” Something about his last statement made him laugh even harder.

Damien gave an exaggerated sigh and grasped the elder vampire by the ankle. He dragged the remains to the stairwell where the body pit lay below. He checked the shadows to ensure that nobody had followed him and hefted the body up into his arms as he began down the stairs.

With one hand, he ripped a large piece of flesh from the vampire’s back and quickly shoved it into his mouth. He barely chewed it before swallowing and almost immediately felt the sickening feeling as it hit his stomach, then the energizing feeling of the elder vampire’s centuries struck him like a sledgehammer strikes an anvil. He staggered on the stairs and fell to his knees, the grit and broken concrete biting into his flesh. He reveled in the rush of power for only a moment before rending another chunk of flesh from the other side of the vampire’s back and quickly consuming it. The power flowed through him, surging into him, filling every cell of his body until he felt he could burst.

With his senses sharpening, he quickly entered the complete darkness of the body room and ripped the vampire into pieces. He ate as quickly as he could, nearly choking on the large chunks of meat as he filled his belly once more on the power of the much older undead.

Once he was satiated, Damien made his way to the stairs. Drunk on the flesh and power of the elder vampire, he barely noticed the shadow moving above him until he was almost upon the hooded figure.

“Get your fill, flesh eater?” asked the darkness, and Damien felt his world come crashing down upon him.

*****

“Jesus, Mark. You look like hell,” Mitchell commented as Tufo entered his office.

“Thanks for noticing.” Mark fell into the chair across from Matt’s desk. He glanced across the office and saw the coffee pot. “Is that for real?” He got back up and started pouring a large mug.

Mitchell chuckled. “Yeah. Some sort of fancy bean that D
iane got me. Doesn’t taste half bad, actually.”

Tufo sipped the dark nectar and moaned. “Not half bad?” he repeated. “Good lord, Matt, this is ambrosia.”

“If you say so, Mark.” Matt stiffened slightly and shot Mark a sideways stare. “We need to talk, buddy.” Mark continued to sip the coffee and took his seat again.

“I just got off the horn with the Pentagon,” Matt began. “It’s not good.”

“Don’t hold back. Hit me with it.” Mark sipped the coffee, wondering what the next shit bomb to hit might be. “What now, aliens from Uranus, zombies from Washington? What?”

Matt sighed and shook his head. “Worse. Paper pushers from the Pentagon.” He stood and opened the blinds a little fu
rther at his office window. He peered out at the work going on and shook his head. “It seems that your position is a ‘commissioned officer only’ billet.” Matt turned and looked at Mark who seemed completely unperturbed. “Since you were enlisted, they’re wanting me to replace you.”

“I don’t guess they give two shits that Laura was a civilian and filled the billet? Technically,
I’m
a civilian.”

Matt shook his head. “You know how they think, Mark. Once an operator,
always
an operator. As far as they’re concerned, you were simply reactivated.” Matt poured himself a coffee and sat down again. When he didn’t pour any Scotch in it, Mark raised an eyebrow, but held his tongue.

“Do they have somebody in mind?”

“No, but I do. I made a few calls as soon as I got off the phone with them.” Matt sipped at the hot bitter liquid. “I called Senator Coburn and had him check something for me. He made a few inquiries and we just got off the phone before I sent for you.”

Mark nodded. “I don’t suppose I could just slip back in with Jack’s team? I mean, I know Dominic is back, but…”

“No, that won’t be happening, buddy.” Matt sipped his coffee again then set his cup down. “First thing you’re going to do is get a haircut. You’re starting to look like a hippie.” Mark shot him a hateful look and ran his fingers through his hair. Yeah, it was a little long, but most special operators were given leeway with such things so that they could blend in better in civilian situations. “Then, for the love of God, if you won’t shave, at least trim that fucking goatee. There’s more salt than pepper there.”

“Hey now—”

“THEN, you’re going to get your ass in the proper uniform,
Major
,” Matt interrupted. Tufo began to argue then froze, his mouth hanging open.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“You heard me, MAJOR.” Matt formed a wicked smile. “The Pentagon said I need to have a commissioned officer in the billet, and our esteemed Congress Critters came through. Your commissioning papers are on the way. Along with Command Advancement to the rank of Major.”

Mark fell back in his chair and stared at him. He shook his head in disbelief. “Matt, you can’t do that…”

“I just did,” Matt announced. “Now get your ass in gear and get a haircut for Chrissake!” He stood and drained his coffee cup. “I got work to do and so do you.”

Mark stood and drained his cup as well. “What about the SOP about no rank and…”

“That’s for squad members.” Matt grabbed at his own collar device. “You and me are Administration. Spit-n-polish and kissing politician’s asses. So I don’t care if you keep the goatee. It might give the bastards a rash on their baby fresh cheeks. But for the love of Pete, trim the damned thing. It looks like a gopher died on your face.” Tufo shot him a hurt look just as Matt turned and added, “An
old, grey
gopher.”

He barely dodged the coffee cup that Mark threw in his d
irection.

*****

Barbara slept off and on through the waning hours of the night and was sleeping deeply when Bobby gently shook her awake. Her muddled and sleep deprived mind fought the fog and she instantly reached for her pistol but Bobby had been smart and had gently removed it from her hands before trying to wake her. He didn’t want her to accidentally jerk and perhaps fire a round, alerting anybody nearby to their position. Judging by her reaction, he was proud of his foresight.

She quickly took in her surroundings and allowed herself to relax a moment. Bobby slid back slightly and allowed himself to relax as well. “I think they’re all gone, Mom,” he whispered.

Barbara yawned and stretched as much as she could in the cramped crawlspace. Bobby handed her back her gun and she crawled back to where the door was directly over her head. She got her feet directly under her and lifted the door just enough to steal a peek into the cabin. It appeared empty, the front door just slightly ajar. She looked to either side of the trap door and saw the destruction of the cabin that the intruders from the previous night had done looking for signs of their staying there. She breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the door higher to allow Bobby to get out.

She crawled out of the space and lowered the door gently to its shut position and spread the carpet back over it, just in case they should need it again. She went to the window seat where they stowed their bugout gear. The top was secured and didn’t lift, but the front fascia was removable to those who knew about it. She reached inside and grabbed both of their bags. Handing Bobby his, he slipped his arms through the straps and secured it into place. She slung her own over her left shoulder and shut the fascia again. With one more check of the cabin, they made their way back out and along a game trail that ran parallel to where the car was parked.

When they got close, she had Bobby stay back behind a fallen tree while she checked the car. From a distance, it looked untouched, but as she got closer, she picked up the distinct smell of antifreeze. A sick feeling came over as she got closer to the car. The limbs that she and Bobby had cut down and braced along the car to hide it from view were all removed and the passenger window knocked out. The hood was slightly ajar and she saw the fluids still dripping from under the car. She lifted the hood and wanted to cry when she saw the tangle of wires, shredded fan belt and ripped hoses. She gently lowered the hood and went back to Bobby. As she got close he stepped out from behind the tree and she didn’t have the heart to say anything. She simply shook her head.

She put a hand on his shoulder and the two kept to the game trail that she knew would eventually cross the highway. Her grandfather had brought her out to these woods most of her life and she was as familiar with it as anybody. As long as Bobby stayed close, they’d be fine. She would keep him safe no matter what, but her first priority was to put as much distance between them and their pursuers as possible.

They walked for half the morning before they broke through the underbrush and came out along the edge of the highway.  Barbara at first felt joy, then sheer terror that anybody could see them, including people who worked with or for the monsters. She had to choose, right or left…east or west. One way led back into town and people that she knew. But most likely, it also led back to her pursuers. They had to be based
somewhere.
The other led away from anything familiar, but she also knew that it was a very long way to the next town on a rarely traveled road. She chose the lesser of two evils and turned Bobby away from the town and hoped that the next vehicle coming down the road would be a Good Samaritan.