Something of the Night (18 page)

“C’mon, Boy!” she called.

The mutt hopped over the
vampire to join her. She thrust the vial out, which kept the vampires at bay.
Then she quickly turned the other way. They retreated into the tight
passageway.

The second the blue light had
faded, Sarah pushed herself away from the wall. Bright spots burnt at her
vision. She stumbled about blindly and fell over Father. Her teeth cracked like
a pistol shot as her jaws clicked painfully together. A trickle of blood
dripped onto her chin.

Father stirred.

“Fool, you let them get
away!” Sarah admonished.

The old man mumbled
incoherently. “Food… ” he moaned. “So… hungry.”

“Fool!” Sarah spat again.

For a second, she
contemplated ending his misery – he was fast becoming a liability – but instead
she lowered her head and placed a ghastly kiss onto his lips. “Here, drink,”
she ordered. His mouth opened and he began to suck on her cut lip like a
parasitic infant. Even Sarah felt a rush of revulsion as she suckled the holy man
with her blood. Nevertheless he needed sustenance, for she hadn’t finished with
him. Her plan had taken an unexpected turn for the worse, yet her objective was
still clear.

The security codes to open
the access doors still eluded her – even Father had proven useless at breaking
them. However, someone else would be joining her - and soon. Someone who knew
not only the codes, but all the secrets the underground had to offer.

***

Rebecca saw the old, reassuring face of Major
Patterson, and without breaking her pace she ran straight to him. She flung her
arms around him and then her emotions erupted in a great, choking sob.

“Now, now, Patterson soothed.

Scratch appeared out of the
darkness too, his claws echoing eerily off the carved rock. The little mutt
stopped at Rebecca’s feet. Rebecca continued to weep. And the mutt looked to be
trembling.

Daniel stepped forwards to
cover the small group. Something had clearly spooked the pair of them. He
trained his weapon towards the empty tunnel. Something remained on the
periphery of the darkness. Daniel’s hand tightened around the handgrip of the
machinegun.

“What is it?” Patterson
asked, feeling the tension of the situation.

“Not sure,” Daniel replied.
He took a step closer to darkness. Then felt a tightness to his shoulder.
Daniel turned to find the Major’s hand had stopped his progress.

“Let’s get out of here,”
Patterson urged. “This is no place to be defending.”

The old man’s other arm was
protectively wrapped around Rebecca’s shoulders. The little girl was nodding in
agreement, fresh tears running down her grime-stricken face.

“The woman from sickbay,” she
managed to mumble. “And the holyman.”

The two men looked at each
other. Rebecca’s words had not contained hope or urgency about them. No, they
had been final. Whatever fate had befallen Sarah and Father had been absolute.

Major Patterson simply nodded
to Daniel. “Let’s go,” he repeated.

Daniel turned back towards
the empty passageway. The shadows had grown thicker. Was there something
hovering just beyond his vision? He sensed the small group behind him leaving –
Rebecca’s weeping growing distant and the dog’s claws clicking as it followed.

Daniel held his position for
a moment longer and then he turned to follow, leaving the darkness behind, and
the fate of two in the hands of a higher purpose.

Chapter
Thirty-One

An
hour of constant climbing had turned Ben’s legs into
two sticks of jelly. In addition to his weakened legs, his arms had just about
cramped solid with the weight of the Browning. So far, they’d reached the 49
^th
floor unhindered. Outside, the weak light forced its way through the
grime-covered windows, now offering just a hint of guidance.

“Wait. Wait,” Ben called.

Jacob Cain and Lieutenant
Hutson stopped and looked back at the struggling gunner.

“Time out,” Ben gasped, and
collapsed onto the stairway.

“Stay here,” Jacob instructed
Hutson. He descended a few steps to join Ben between two floors. The guy’s huge
chest heaved with exhaustion.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ben lied. He looked
as if fatigue was about to pull him all the way back to the first floor.

“I think we should rest up.
Let’s set up camp at the next floor. It’s been one hell of a day.”

Ben nodded, relieved at the
thought of rest and a couple of hours sleep.

Jacob returned to Hutson’s
side. “We rest for the night,” he announced.

“Thank God. My legs are about
one step away from collapsing,” Hutson replied.

Hutson checked her rifle.
Twice she’d fired shots into the dark corridors, unnerved by a sudden shifting
of shadows or an unexplained sound. She patted her jacket and felt reassured by
the two spare magazines she felt there. She pushed the door open by an inch. A
dark corridor stretched out before her. They stood there, straining to hear if
anything threatening lay beyond. Something Ben had said earlier crept into her mind.
“How come the vampires haven’t tried to follow us?” he said, even though he
knew the answer. “I think our unwanted guest is keeping them at bay,” she had
replied, with a nervous shudder. What the hell kind of ‘thing’ could instil
sufficient dread to keep out the undead? All felt it was only a matter time
before the beast revealed itself.

Hutson pushed open the door.
She stepped over the threshold and moved to the first opening. Jacob slipped
the assault rifle into his hands and then crossed into near-darkness. Ben
followed close behind.

“Stay here. Watch our backs,”
Jacob ordered.

“Yeah. Okay, boss,” Ben
replied.

Ben reached out and pulled a
bin full of trash over to the doorway. Resting the Browning on the lip of the
bin, he took up position. Jacob backed away before joining Hutson at the door
to a deserted office. Inside they found nothing but the remnants of a lost
civilisation. A computer sat silently on a desk, no longer storing data but
accumulating dust. Two filing-cabinets occupied opposite corners, and the chair
at the centre of the room had become an antique of rotten leather.

They stood back, and then
moved across the corridor to the next room. There they found just another
office and another suggestion of times past. For the next couple of minutes
they checked from one room to the next. Level 49 appeared deserted, thankfully.
Stepping out of the last room, Jacob whistled to Ben. The gunner turned and
waved an acknowledgement. His oversized boots pounded down the passageway. The
heavy footsteps did not stop, however, once he’d reached them. Instead, a thud
of footsteps followed as they pounded directly above them. Something above had
tried to match Ben step-for-step.

Fear bent Ben’s face into a
crooked grin. “What the hell was that?”

A finger rose to the
tracker’s lips. “Quiet… ”

All three stayed rooted to
the spot. At first nothing came. Until another set of steps marched across the
ceiling for a second time. Hutson reached out, grasping at Jacob’s arm. “What
is it?” she demanded. He turned to find her face had drained of colour. “It’s
no vampire,” he replied. “No ordinary vampire, that is.”

“Shit,” Hutson moaned. She
double-checked her rifle and then, in a fit of bravado, she headed for the
stairwell.

“Lieutenant,” Jacob called.
He took a couple of urgent steps to stop the woman before she could get any
further. “Let’s not be reckless,” he cautioned. “That thing’s been keeping one
step ahead all along. It could be as scared of us as we are of it.”

“Do you think so?”

“I hope so,” he told her.

Ben joined them. “Who’s
hunting who?”

“I think it’s time we found
out,” Jacob said.

“What do you suggest?” the
large guy asked.

“We need to lure our friend
down here, and then show it a little bit of human hospitality,” he said,
resting the M16 across his chest.

One of Jacob’s words had sent
a shiver down Ben’s spine. “
Lure
it out how, exactly?”

Twin slivers of white glinted
as the tracker’s face broke into a humourless smile. “We bait it.”

***

A sheet of darkness covered the staircase. Even the
small flashlight beneath the barrel of the M16 could not penetrate the darkness
fully; it just burnt it back slightly. Jacob took a breath, and then stepped
into the dark void. He climbed blindly for a few anxious seconds before
arriving at the top of the stairs unscathed. A mere trace of natural light
pushed weakly against the dirty windows on each landing.

The 50
^th
floor
beckoned.

Below him, Ben and Lieutenant
Hutson were ready and waiting. All he had to do was lead the thing to them.
Yeah, right! He rested his hand on the door handle. It felt cold and oily. He
tightened his grip. Twisted it to the left. The handle was jammed tight. He
tried it to the right and it released a short squeal of protest before it
popped open. He pushed his way inside. The hinges cracked like the snap of
bones as they gave. The slight noise jabbed at Jacob’s ears. He peered through
the gap using the scope of his weapon.

A large, open office space
revealed itself. In a marvel of symmetry the room had been designed to house
row upon row of desks and workspaces, all identical in placement and size. He
stepped inside but kept one hand on the door. Immediately to his left, he saw
an overturned chair. He reached out and dragged the chair over. The carpeted
floor muffled the noise, and he felt both relief and dread. At least he’d be
able to move quietly. But then again so would his quarry. Using the chair to
wedge the door open, he then moved further into the room.

He dropped to one knee and
used the scope again, tracking it left to right. Only shadows revealed
themselves. He took another couple of steps and dropped to his knee. The scope
showed nothing, just a setting from another world and time. He started to think
the thing might have climbed to the next level or descended. Until something
further ahead fell with a soft patter. The assault rifle homed in on the noise.
Jacob held his breath.

He was not alone after all.

A huge roar erupted from the
opposite end of the office. The sound was guttural, wild and
ferocious
.
A chair sailed through the darkness to crash noisily behind Jacob. Had he
not ducked, the object would have knocked him senseless. He sprang to his feet
and fired a couple of warning shots in his attacker’s general direction. A
second howl of rage came.

Moving quickly, he sprinted
to the other side of the office, taking refuge behind a desk. The desk appeared
solid and would offer good protection. He thought about overturning it, as the
flat tabletop would protect against bullets, but when the thing howled again he
knew whatever was out there was incapable of the dexterity required to operate
a trigger.

It grunted, closer than
before. Jacob shrank under the table. He held the rifle close to his chest.
Feet thumped heavily on the carpeted floor. Something in its awkward gait made
him think of an animal and a large animal at that.

The footsteps trailed away
from his hiding place. Jacob returned to his point of entry. The door had been
closed. He reached out to open it. His hand closed around thin air. Anxiously,
he searched for the doorknob. He eventually found it lying on the carpet,
useless. A short stub of metal protruded from the door, the remains of the
opening mechanism. Somehow, the thing had had the presence of mind to break it,
halting any chance of escape into this stairwell. He thought about shooting the
lock, but the door and doorframe looked solid.

“Shit,” he whispered. He’d
have to go back the other way.

He bent to pick up the broken
knob. It felt cold and solid, and a hefty object to throw. He pulled his arm
back and released the object into the darkness. A satisfying
thump
sounded
as the knob hit an object in its path.

His feelings of triumph were
abruptly quashed when the darkness parted to reveal a huge, muscular body. The
massive creature appeared to be stooped over, resting on its knuckles.

The tracker’s eyes widened.
Jesus Christ, how the hell! His thoughts were cut short as the beast charged
towards him. Its jaws opened and four enormous canines parted wide enough for
it to howl in rage. In a hallucination of silver and black fur, the beast raced
towards him, and the floor shook violently with its passing. He brought the
assault rifle up, took aim and fired a series of shots. The beast changed
direction in the blink of an eye. And the bullets whizzed over its shoulder
harmlessly.

Trapped now, Jacob watched as
the creature closed in. It rushed towards him, upright but stooped low, with
its long muscular arms acting as stabilisers. Drawing nearer, its face appeared
to be made of black shiny leather with two flared nostrils in the centre. A
compressed forehead slopped back and two nubs of flesh formed the beast’s ears.

Something Ben had said
earlier popped into Jacob’s head:
Sweetheart, that’ll hold King Kong
.
Fear gripped his heart like a tightening vice, but as well as terror, childlike
amazement stole a breath. How in heavens had this beast come to be? Out of the
two emotions, fear eventually won. He aimed carefully before firing at the
magnificent beast before him. A deep gash cut a diagonal across the beast’s
skull. It roared in agony, fell to the floor, its rage knocked out of it.

One of its dark hands rose to
its head. Thick fingers probed at the wound. They came away smeared in blood.
Its nostrils flared as it sniffed at the red liquid. A tongue poked out to lick
at the stained fingertips. Tasting its own blood, the beast released a
heartbreaking, almost human, sob.

Jacob stepped closer. He was
almost on the point of apology when the beast turned its dark, pebble-like eyes
in his direction. Hatred had turned the beast even more humanlike. In a
demented rage, it smashed its fists down onto the carpet, and the desks nearest
to it jumped off the floor, scattering their contents onto the carpet. The
power of the shockwave dropped Jacob to one knee. The M16 fell out of his hands
before bouncing silently away. It finished wedged underneath a desk. He
scrambled across the floor, his arm thrust out towards the fallen weapon. His
fingers brushed against metal. At the same time an iron fist wrapped itself
round his ankle. In one second he was sprawled out on the floor, and in the
next, he found himself dangling in midair, with his arms hanging uselessly. He
kicked out with his other leg but the assault went wide, missing its target
entirely.

The beast shook Jacob like a
rag doll, his arms and free leg flapping around wildly. The bones in his ankle
threatened to snap. He understood instantly that if that happened he would be
finished. He let out a strangled cry and then went limp. Immediately the
jostling stopped. He felt himself hang for a second and then he was dropped
unceremoniously to the floor. Luckily the soft carpet spared his skull from
splitting in two. Still, the world went darker for a couple of minutes.

When he came around, he found
himself sprawled on the floor and his ankle throbbed painfully. Carefully, he
opened one eye and looked around, finding the immediate area clear. Where the
hell was it? He tested his foot. Apart from a little numbness, it felt okay. A
huff came from directly behind him.

Shee-yit…

He opened his other eye and
the world widened out before him. He was facing away from the beast, towards
the sealed exit. Somewhere off to the left lay the assault rifle. He thought
about waiting for help; surely Ben or Hutson would come to his aid, but he
remembered ordering them to stay put, no matter what happened.

The beast sat on its haunches
watching the man before it. The throbbing in its head had temporarily
lightened. For a second the smell of its own blood had sent it into an
uncontrolled rage, but now it seemed calmer, and with one hand it gently nudged
the man. The slight prod pushed Jacob six inches across the carpet.

He felt another rough prod.
Using the movement to his advantage, flopping over like a rag doll, he allowed
his head to roll over onto the opposite side. Squinting through the tiny crack
of his partially opened eyes, he saw the beast sitting only a few feet away.

The thing was hugely built,
mainly out of muscle and fur, but its stomach was a smooth black ball, which
swelled out from the rest of the hard mass like a malignant growth. Two
powerful arms hung from its broad shoulders and ended in agile hands; which
Jacob now believed could indeed be capable of human dexterity. In contrast to
the rest of the beast, its legs looked underdeveloped, two short bowings of
black fur. The tracker understood at once why the thing needed the reassurance
of its hands to maintain an upright stance.