Something of the Night (16 page)

“Now look what you’ve done,”
Rebecca moaned miserably, “it’s totally ruined. What are you trying to do?
First you… ” She continued to rant on, unaware of the imminent danger.

The footsteps were getting
louder. Why couldn’t she hear them? Scratch released her and growled. He gave
her his most intimidating snarl, and this unexpected act of real aggression
ended any complaint. The silence carried the footsteps to them.

Rebecca turned to the
opening. A mighty cough echoed like thunder along the tight tunnel, making the
hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She’d heard that cough before. The roar
sounded again, but this time it was followed by a whisper of warning.

“Be quiet, or you’ll wake the
dead,” someone cursed.

A second person spoke, but
the words were a mixture of misery and confusion.

Rebecca recognised one of the
voices instantly. The woman from sickbay! She spun full circle. Panic tightened
her chest as she struggled to draw breath.

Scratch bolted into action.
He jumped up and snatched the loose material that hung from her wrist. He
backed away and this time Rebecca followed. She allowed herself to be led to
the rear of the storeroom. They worked their way into the cardboard boxes,
hurrying now, taking refuge within the mess. A large box toppled over in front
of them and Rebecca quickly dragged it over before pulling it up over their
heads, hiding both in darkness.

The footsteps arrived at the
entrance.

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

Inside the lobby all was still. Their boots echoed
hollowly off the marble floor. The place looked like it had been deserted for a
long, long time. Most of the walls had been reduced to bare brick, and the once
fine wallpaper had pulled away in entire sheets, as if in search of a better,
more fruitful setting. A bombardment of neglect had created a field of craters
in the marble flooring, and portraits had turned into mouldy caricatures, their
original subjects buried under a coating of decay.

Jacob flattened himself
against a pillar and then pointed the assault rifle into the shadows. He looked
across the lobby to find Lieutenant Hutson taking up a similar position. Near
the entrance and, hidden behind the reception desk, Ben had the huge Browning
machinegun trained on the doorway, ready to welcome any unexpected visitors.
The last of the ammo-belts hung like a brass serpent from the weapon, its bite
deadlier than any snake’s.

Stepping around the stone
pillar, Jacob silently skipped to the next. He leaned back and felt the support
of cool marble at his back. He signalled to Hutson and she moved forward,
reducing the distance to the stairwell. Together, they moved from one pillar to
the next, eventually reaching the foot of the stairs. Jacob turned and called
for Ben to follow.

The huge gunner lifted the
Browning off the scarred desktop and quickly joined his companions.

“So far so good,” Ben said.

“Let’s hope it stays that
way,” Jacob remarked, looking at the darkness the stairs had to offer.

The tracker took the first of
many steps.

“Wait a minute…” Ben called.
The weight of the huge Browning had him pinned down. Ben rested the machinegun
over his shoulder. After taking only a couple of steps his face became a bright
red mask of exertion.

“We need to find somewhere to
store that,” Jacob said.

Ben gave him a ‘no shit’ look
but just said, “Yeah, but where?”

“Wait a minute,” Hutson
called. She was at the foot of the stairwell, watching their rear. “What about
in here?” she said, pointing towards two slabs of bronze. One of the doors had
popped out of its runners, hanging awkwardly, while the other remained shut
.
A slice of darkness cut the elevator doors in two. Anything could be lurking
inside.

“Maybe I should wait here?”
Ben asked, hopefully.

“No way,” Jacob said, “this
was your plan, remember? I’d be halfway to Ezekiel’s camp by now, if I hadn’t
agreed to join in on this stupid trip.”

Ben heaved the Browning off
his shoulder and stood facing the closed doors. He planted his feet and then
said, “Okay, open her up.”

Both Hutson and Jacob slung
their weapons over their shoulders. In comparison to the Browning, both weapons
looked insignificant and fragile.

Jacob pushed his fingers
through the crack. The metallic surface felt cold and greasy, and for a second
he thought his fingers would slip away. He ran his hand higher, finally finding
a better grip. He watched as Hutson did the same, then nodded. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

The gunner grinned
malevolently. “Rock and roll,” he whispered.

“Okay, on three,” Jacob said.
“One … Two … Thr-”

A sudden deafening shriek
erupted from within the elevator. The door on Jacob’s side buckled outwards,
knocking him to the floor. Hutson felt the door on her side swell. Then a hot
breath brushed against her fingers. She snatched her hand away as a set of
oversized fangs clammed themselves around the edge of the door.

Ben tensed, and Hutson read
his intentions. She’d just about dived for cover when multiple pockmarks
scarred the door at her side. The bullets ripped into the brass door, peppering
holes in a left-to-right pattern, then continued across and into the
surrounding brickwork.

Gun-smoke filled the air in a
thick, choking cloud of cordite. Ben waited for the cloud to break, saw
something move and unleashed another barrage. More chunks of red-hot metal and
masonry flew.

“OKAY! OKAY! Nice shootin’,
Partner!” Jacob yelled, his ears ringing.

The taut ligaments in Ben’s
finger relaxed. The sound of gunfire ceased instantly.

“What are you trying to do,
shoot the whole fucking building?”

Ben grinned sheepishly.
“Never can be too sure.”

“Jeez… ” Jacob said, trying
to breathe through his teeth, and spare his lungs from the cloud of dust and
cordite. As the smoke parted, he found the ammo-belt almost empty. Dozens of
spent shells were strewn about Ben’s feet like fat, shiny scarabs.

Jacob slipped the assault
rifle into his hands. Checking the weapon was on fully-automatic, he pointed it
into the shadows. Firing a couple of shots at point-blank range, he said,
“Never can be too sure,” towards Ben.

“Heard that,” Ben commented.

Jacob waited for the smoke to
clear. Then stepped into the elevator car. Inside, the floor-to-ceiling mirrors
had been reduced to cracked slivers of dark glass. At irregular intervals, he
found jagged bullet holes, which had punched through the doors and then exited
via the rear of the compartment. There was nothing else to be found. He spun
full circle, as if expecting filthy talons to reach for his throat. The
elevator was empty.

Hutson stuck her head inside.
“Where’d it go?”

“Where did what go?”

“The thing that did that,”
she said. Her rifle jabbed upwards. The top of the elevator looked as if it had
been peeled open, from the inside out. The small access panel had gone and the
metal around the opening had been torn away like paper and spread out,
resulting in a large, ragged hole. Through the hole, both Jacob and Hutson
could make out the hint of machinery and the drop of cables. The main cable
appeared to twitch and thrash as if someone above was making it move. A
recurring metallic twang ran along the cable. Something was using the main
cable as an escape rope, something very strong and… damned fast.

Jacob stepped into the centre
of the car. He aimed the assault rifle upwards, did his best to keep to the
cable’s parallel path, and then fired into the shaft.

Three shots sounded, each one
amplified by the enclosed space.

Hutson waited for her ears to
stop ringing.

The twang of the cable had
stopped.

“What do you think?” she
asked.

“Wait…” Jacob said, placing
his finger over his lips. He tilted his head, straining to hear. A slight sound
came from above. It started with just a hint of displaced air. Yet, as it drew
closer, the noise became a growing rush of thunder.

“GO!” Jacob ordered, pushing
Hutson out of the elevator. She stumbled backwards, tripping over her feet. He
stumbled too and they both finished sprawled just outside the booth. In the
next instant the elevator imploded with a thunderous boom. The crumpled booth
coughed mightily and a great wave of dust rolled out, covering all three in a
layer of grime.

Ben staggered back, the
impact almost dropping him to the floor. He found his footing and steadied
himself. The cloud of dust began to disperse. It revealed two figures crumpled
on the lobby floor.

“Jacob? Lieutenant?”

Neither of them moved.

“Guys?”

“Did we kill it?” a dry,
rasping voice asked. The dust-ball pulled itself apart, and Jacob turned
towards the elevator. Hutson coughed, and a puff of dust trickled away from her
blanched lips.

“Did we kill it?” Jacob asked
again.

Ben joined them at the
entrance. In place of the car was a dark elevator shaft. Stepping cautiously to
the edge, he looked down and found that the actual carriage had been crushed
into the basement. A large, metal oblong had punched its way through the
ceiling, forcing the sides of the elevator inwards, in a concertina effect.

“Well?” Jacob pushed.

Ben pulled his head back
inside the lobby. “If you shot a filing-cabinet, then yes – we killed it.”

“What?” Jacob crawled to the
edge of the opening. Inching further, he observed what was left of the
elevator-carriage. Not a lot. The roof had been completely smashed and the
walls had bent inwards. A drawer-and-a-half poked precariously out of the mess.
One of the drawers had ruptured and hundreds of sheets of paper fluttered about
just below him. Considering the other drawers were also full, the
filing-cabinet must have weighed a ton.

“Shee-yit,” he whistled, and
pulled his head back.

“Got ourselves a regular
pain-in-the-ass,” Ben commented. He held his hand out and helped first Hutson
and then Jacob to their feet.

Jacob looked to Ben and they
both raised their eyes heavenwards. Somewhere just above their heads lurked an
unknown threat that could jeopardise the entire mission. And it was no ordinary
vampire.

“What happened?” Hutson
asked, shaking dust out of her hair.

“I think we disturbed
something from its sleep,” Ben told her.

“What?” she asked.

“Something is really pissed
at us,” Ben responded.

“Yeah, and even stronger than
you, friend,” Jacob remarked, with shudder. “A regular pain-in-the-ass indeed.”

“Guess things just became a
little more complicated,” Ben stated.

“Just a little,” Jacob
agreed. “How many rounds have you got left?”

Ben tilted the Browning to
one side. He took a moment to count along the ammo-belt. “Thirty-six.”

Thirty-six, Jacob summarised,
it didn’t sound like enough. Not nearly enough. “Make sure they all count.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” Ben
promised.

Chapter
Twenty-Nine

It had been hours since they’d come for the prisoners.
And with a sickening dread the woman understood they would not be coming back.
That left three out of the original six. Three of the younger ones had been led
from the cell by the vampire jailer, Bara, but, unlike the usual routine, they
simply hadn’t returned. Those remaining were the teenager, the auburn-haired
woman, and a Hispanic girl, who mumbled continually in a tongue neither of them
could comprehend.

The Hispanic girl was curled
up in the centre, her body soaking up the dampness from the floor like a large
sponge. The woman had twice tried to drag the girl to drier ground, but both
times she had been met with a barrage of flailing arms and abuse. The girl had
slipped into the lonely abyss of madness months ago.

“I don’t understand. Why
aren’t they bringing them back?” the teenager asked. The two of them were
huddled together at the rear of the cell.

“I don’t know, honey,” Hannah
Cain replied, shaking her head, setting her fiery-red hair ablaze.

“They’re coming for us,
aren’t they?”

Hannah squeezed the girl’s
hand, “We don’t know that for sure,” she said.

The girl started to cry. “Yes
they are,” she sobbed. Hannah wrapped her arms around the girl’s bony
shoulders, holding her tight.

“We’ll be okay, I promise. I
won’t let them take you, not without a fight.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise,” Hannah
swore. She would like nothing more than to tear the jailer’s hideous face
apart. But something had changed within the bloated mass of flesh. The jailer’s
usual look of cruelty had gone, and in its place a businesslike posture had
appeared. The vampire looked as if she was in a hurry, eager to ‘process’ all
the prisoners as quickly as possible.

Hannah pulled herself away
from the girl. She turned to face the small window that was just above her
head. The glass had broken long ago. Only iron bars remained. She stood on her
tiptoes and managed to catch a glimpse of something pass by. It was the trailer
of a truck. Hannah heard the hiss of compressed air as the driver applied
pressure to the brakes. All day, vehicles of one description or another had
rolled by.

“Maybe we’re moving out,”
Hannah speculated.

The girl looked up and the
pale light from outside turned her face ghoulish. “Moving where?” the dreadful
mask asked.

“I’m not sure,” Hannah
admitted.

During her long
incarceration, Hannah had endured numerous journeys from one cell to another,
across country, with the end result always the same – a damp and mouldy room,
shared by beaten and abused women. Perhaps now they were on the move again.
Like their human counterparts, the vampires needed provisions to survive, and
once an area had been picked clean, they moved to the next. They’d been
travelling steadily south for the last couple of months. The underground lay
just fifty miles or so from here. Maybe Ezekiel had finally found his prize?

Hannah slid back down beside
the girl. “Guess we’ll find out sooner or later.”

***

Brothers Isaac and Jeremiah strode purposefully
through the bleak corridors. Most of the previously occupied cells were now
empty; their residents packed and ready to move out. As they traversed these
hollow, soulless passageways, Isaac’s eyes shifted from left to right with sly
intent.

“All is going as planned,” he
told his companion.

Jeremiah nodded. “Good.” They
continued until they entered a side passage, which was just off the main wing.
“What of the Major?” the tall vampire asked.

Isaac’s thin face grinned
malevolently. “His fate has been sealed.”

“Then we move soon?”

“Once our… infiltrator has
taken care of the Major and his subordinates, then we will strike with a
ferocity never seen.”

“So you have our strike force
ready, yes?”

“Yes,” Isaac hissed. “They
are waiting south of here. As soon as Sarah gives them the signal, they will
cut out the heart of the humans, leaving all who remain at our mercy.”

“And Ezekiel suspects
nothing?”

“Our foresight has paid
dividends. It was a good idea to amass our troops slowly and over time. All our
soldiers who prepare for the war are believed to be lost or dead – slain in
battle. Even their commanders know nothing of their existence.”

“An army of the dead?”
Jeremiah mused. The irony of his statement cut deep lines at the corners of his
bloodshot eyes and cruel mouth.

Isaac chuckled. “Ezekiel is a
fool. His plan for an alliance is absurd, vampires and humans, together?
Ridiculous!”

Jeremiah stopped. “I fear our
leader has spent too much time with the infant boy. He’s grown weak and
disoriented, and needs enlightening.”

“Then
we
must show him
the light.”

“Indeed.”

They arrived at a dead-end
with a door to either side. Isaac looked behind to make sure nobody had
followed them. Then he pulled Jeremiah to the right and into a utility room.
Only a couple of cardboard boxes and some junk could be found. Most of the room
was hidden in shadows. The lean vampire reached into the folds of his cloak and
retrieved an electronic gadget. Skeletal fingers twisted a knob and the device
crackled into life.

Fifty miles away, another
device switched on. And, like its counterpart, the operator was hidden amongst
dust and darkness.

For the next couple of
minutes, Isaac held a conversation, which was intermittently interrupted by the
squeal of static. Although the voice at the other end was distant and tinny, one
trait was clear in the speaker’s voice: excitement. Things were moving
according to plan and soon the attack would be underway. The secret
conversation ended, and with a squeal of farewell the electronic device fell
silent. Isaac returned it immediately under his cloak.

“We are almost ready,” Isaac
said.

“Has the Major been… retired
yet?” Jeremiah asked, his face eager and twisted.

Isaac shook his head, “Not
yet, brother. But soon.”

“How soon?”

“They’re about to – retire
him without delay.”

“Good,” the tall vampire
said. “I’ll have our troops ready to go as soon as the signal is given.”

Together, they withdrew from
the room and headed back towards the main wing.

A couple of minutes passed.
Then, unexpectedly, the darkness shifted slightly and a huge figure stepped out
from the shadows. Thalamus crossed to the entrance and his broad shoulders
barely cleared the doorframe. He stepped outside and followed in the wake of
the two vampires. His earlier feelings of fear and betrayal had begun to
disappear, and once again his confidence in his master’s ability was restored.

Ezekiel had been right, there
were
traitors amongst them. Traitors who were so blinded for the want of
spilt blood that their judgment had become tainted. Still, his master would
show them judgment, and Thalamus would be the one to deliver it.

***

Hannah’s head snapped up.

“What is it?” the girl asked,
pulled from her fitful slumber.

“Quiet,” Hannah ordered. She
climbed to her feet and moved over to the front of the cell. The corridor
stretched out in a channel of iron bars. Most of the cells were now empty, but
further down, Hannah could make out the silhouettes of other prisoners, ragged
looking figures with wild, tangled hair and even wilder eyes. Hannah pushed her
head through the bars as far as she could, to get a better look. Bara appeared
in a swell of flesh, and with a rattle of iron entered the furthest cell. The
mumble of conversation drifted to Hannah, carrying a hint of urgency about it.
Something in its tone reminded her of the strange questions Bara had asked
earlier. The jailer had seemed keen to find out which prisoners had originally
come from the south, and how many of them believed they still had family living
outside these prison walls. All those who had come from the north or claimed to
have no existing family were escorted from the cells without delay and led away
under armed guard. Then, they simply had not returned.

What the hell was going on?
Hannah wondered. She watched as two ragged figures were pulled from the cell.

“What are they doing?” the
girl asked as she drew alongside Hannah.

“They’re taking more
prisoners out.”

“But why only the ones from
the north?” she asked.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t
make any sense.”

They stood there shoulder to
shoulder as the jailer moved from one cell to the next. In all, eleven
prisoners were picked out. They shuffled away together as one bedraggled group.

It was the walk of the
dammed.

***

Ezekiel used the pen to strike out a number of names
from the long list on the table before him. The handgun rested at the top of
the sheet - a deadly paperweight. Nearly half the names had been either
crossed-out or had a small question mark placed against them.

The young boy at his side
looked up. The vampire leader watched his face intently. The boy’s eyes lit up
with delight and affection. A couple of seconds later, the thump of heavy boots
echoed from the connecting passageway. Thalamus’s colossal form filled the
doorway for a second. He moved over to the dais without pause. He stopped,
bowed his head slightly and then offered Ezekiel a respectful salute. The
gesture was returned. Ezekiel waved the towering vampire closer.

“Your intuition appears
correct,” Thalamus said. Without delay he explained all that he’d heard during
the secret conversation.

Ezekiel nodded. “Brothers
Isaac and Jeremiah?”

“Yes.”

“What of Bara?”

Thalamus shrugged slightly.
“I think not. Although she does have her own agenda.”

“That doesn’t concern me,
yet,” Ezekiel replied. He was all too aware of Bara’s abuse of the prisoners. “But
she is separating the prisoners as I have instructed?”

“It appears so.”

“Good – good.”

Thalamus took a step closer.
“Master, should I summon Brothers Isaac and Jeremiah?” His hands formed
themselves into tight fists, and the muscles in his arms bulged. He was going
to enjoy their suffering.

“Not yet,” Ezekiel answered.

Thalamus frowned and his jaw
twitched with tension. “Why not?”

The vampire leader stepped
down from the platform. “It is safer to let them think they have the upper
hand.”

Confusion deepened the lines
of Thalamus’s brow. “I don’t understand.”

“How many have flocked to
their cause?” Ezekiel asked.

Two huge shoulders shrugged.
“I’m not sure. Perhaps hundreds.”

“And you know all their
names? And where they hide?”

“That would be impossible,” Thalamus
said.

“Indeed,” Ezekiel concurred.
“So for now, let them think they have the element of surprise.” The vampire
leader took his comrade’s arm as he began to lead them outside. The little boy
hopped down from the platform and followed close behind.

“What about the Major? If
they kill him, won’t that give rise to a fight? And how then will you form an
alliance?”

Ezekiel smiled confidently.
“Brother Thalamus, the Major’s demise will weaken and demoralise the humans.
Yes, they may wish to fight, in revenge for their leader, but what chance do
they have against our numbers? Let Isaac’s troop weaken their resolve, then
when I offer my hand as saviour they’ll flock to me like lost sheep returning
to the fold.”

“But how can they trust you?”
Thalamus asked.

Ezekiel’s smile turned sly.
“We shall use Brothers Isaac and Jeremiah as a token of peace. And show our new
comrades just how seriously we take their allegiance and safety.”

“How?”

“We execute them both – and all
those who have flocked to their banner. We shall show our cousins that they
need not fear us, for we shall deliver them from evil. The acts of betrayal
will seem like just a dreadful mistake and none of my doing. And how do you
think they’ll react once they see the return of their family and friends?”

For a second Thalamus became
confused. Suddenly, he understood why his master had segregated the northern
prisoners from the southern. “You’re using the prisoners to bargain with?”

“Indeed.”

“And you think they’ll give
us sufficient leverage?”

“Yes,” Ezekiel replied. “The
humans will welcome us with open arms once their loved ones are returned.”

They walked in silence for a
moment. Then Thalamus voiced his main concern. “Master, although
I
understand your motivations, I’m not sure the rest of the soldiers will.”