Something of the Night (36 page)

Chapter
Fifty-Three

Tate tilted the nose of the helicopter, allowing The
Ray of Hope to wash over the dark mass beneath. The bright beam caught a group
of vampire soldiers and instantly they exploded in a flash of pure white light.
Like screaming skyrockets, six blinding shafts of light tore past Tate, up into
the night, cutting their way through the blanket of dust. The beautiful pulse
of blue sky that lay beyond dazzled her. Instantly, though, the thick fog
knitted the holes shut and once again the dark cloud rumbled from east to west
– unstoppable.

A metallic voice crackled to
life. “Over there.” Buckled into the co-pilot’s seat, Nick pointed through the
cockpit towards a rank of retreating vampires. They were heading for the cover
of trees. Tate tipped the rudder forwards and, with the vengeance of Wrath
itself, Black Bird cut off their escape. The half platoon of Raphael’s men fell
over each other in a desperate attempt to escape. Most were vaporised, the blue
light scorching skin with the conviction of a firestorm. A few managed to
scatter out of the bright radius, but, blinded by terror, they ran straight
into the human soldiers who were now working their way towards the base of the
hill. A deep line of firearms cut down all those who tried to flee.

Black Bird banked suddenly to
the right and a barrage of gunfire cut through the darkness, almost ripping
away a section of the fuselage. The Huey levelled out momentarily, but another
line of fire burst from the ground, so the aircraft pulled up and away to
safety. Below, the battlefield became a black canvas, punctured by the bright
red and white holes of Hell and Damnation.

In the rear of the Huey, Ben
swung the remaining Browning from left to right, picking off the stragglers
that stumbled across the battlefield. Next to him, Squirrel was deep in his own
battle. The generator fluctuated between full power and near total failure. A
small needle, signifying power output, flicked violently from red to green.

“More oil,” Squirrel said.
“She needs more oil.”

The teenager, Ella, poured a
thick stream of brown liquid into the generator’s gearbox. A loud, angry
sputter came from the vent, followed by a plume of choking smoke.

“More – more,” Squirrel
ordered, watching the needle slip slowly back to green.

***

Brother Trask watched as the aircraft disappeared into
darkness. Only a handful of his men were left standing. Most lay scattered at
his feet, bloodied and broken. What remained had gathered around Trask’s jeep,
holding back the onslaught with their last dying breath. Bullets stuttered up
the side of the jeep and two more soldiers dropped to the earth.

Trask levelled the machinegun
and tore through the advancing horde. A nearby explosion rocked the vehicle
onto two wheels, but still the vampire warrior hung on. The jeep crashed back
down, and finally Trask was thrown clear. A second later the vehicle was
peppered with a hundred bullet-holes. The vampire rolled onto his back, then
climbed to a sitting position. The platoon of enemy soldiers had moved on,
thinking their assault had been absolute. Trask was the only one to climb to
his feet. The rest lay were they had fallen.

Something caught his eye. Two
figures materialised before him. Black uniforms, barely distinguishable in the
darkness, camouflaged them. Unlike the rest of Raphael’s foot soldiers, these
two moved slowly, weighed down by heavy artillery. Both had rocket-grenades
balanced on their shoulders. They dropped to the earth, tilting the sleek,
deadly weapons towards the night sky.

Over the raging battlefield,
Trask heard the distinguishable clatter of rotor-blades. The helicopter was
coming fast, oblivious to the two missiles that were being targeted against its
hull. The beam of light cut to their left, passing both soldiers harmlessly,
and then moved to intercept their brethren.

Understanding that only the
magnificent light could beat Raphael’s numbers, Trask bent down, snatched up
his fallen rifle and then raced towards the two kneeling soldiers. A deafening
battle-cry burst from his stretched lips. The night seemed to part in the wake
of Trask’s passing. With one long, continuous battle-cry, he raced towards the
two soldiers.

The soldier nearest continued
to track Black Bird’s progress, oblivious to the threat which descended upon
him. The second soldier frowned, the meaning of the strange noise eluding him,
for now. The tip of his rocket-propelled grenade traced along the dark canvas
of night, homing in on the darker shadow of the Huey’s fuselage. Only when it
was too late did he understand the demented roar of Trask’s passing. He chanced
a look to his left, beyond his comrade, and the dull glitter of amour caught
his eye. Next, he noticed the hefty club that was raised high, ready to strike.
In a blind panic, he spun around, the tip of the rocket catching his comrade’s
shoulder. The sudden jolt forced the other’s finger to twitch and, with a
deafening
WHOOSH
, the rocket raced away with a red tail of fire close
behind it.

“What the hell?” the vampire
questioned, his launcher expelling a breath of black smoke. Then, seeing the
look of terror on his counterpart’s face, he twisted around and–

–with a hollow crack, the
nails embedded in Trask’s rifle split his skull in two. Like a clay pot his
forehead cracked open to reveal grey tissue beneath.

The second vampire turned his
weapon towards Trask, but the heaviness of the rocket spun him around, in
unwanted momentum, and he finished with it pointing well past its mark.

Ripping the rifle stock free,
Trask spun it around in his hands, bringing the muzzle out in front of him. The
soldier wrestled the grenade-launcher back round in an attempt to defend
himself.

Then, simultaneously, Trask
and the soldier unleashed their fury.

***

Like a vengeful whirlwind, Black Bird scooped up lost
souls before delivering them into the heavens in a bright, blinding shower of
light. Scanning ahead, Ben dropped the retreating vampires, allowing The Ray of
Hope to douse the fallen bodies with its righteous glow. Brass shells clattered
around his boots and he whooped with joy as the night turned bright with arcing
bolts of pure white light.

Suddenly, a different sort of
light raced towards him, red and angry and full of intent.

“Oh… shit,” he moaned,
understanding at once it was the tail of a rocket. He watched in terror as the
missile homed in. And, in a fusion of matter, they came together.

The night turned orange.

Black Bird lurched to the
side, throwing those inside around with violent disregard. Lieutenant Hutson
fell backwards into Squirrel, and both toppled out of the helicopter. Ella
screamed, almost equalling the noise of the blast, as she watched the two of
them disappear.

***

Inside the cockpit, Tate fought vainly with the
uncontrollable flight-stick. It whipped her hands to the left, spinning the
Huey in a tight circle. “Dear God,” she cried, understanding her predicament.
“The tail-rotor’s been hit.”

At her side, Nick coughed and
burped. A bright bubble of red phlegm burst on his lips.

“ …
Shee-yit
… ” he
rasped.

“Help me!” Tate called.

“I’m hit,” Nick said through
bloody, gritted teeth. He looked down and found a collage of crimson pools
spreading out in dark, wet patches.

“Hit where?” Tate asked,
pulling her attention away from the blur of motion before her.

“Everywhere… ”

“Hold on,” Tate said,
desperately trying to level out the dark horizon. The Huey spun crazily, and
Tate watched hopelessly as the world around her turned helter-skelter. Just
before her arms gave out she felt the aircraft begin to level out. The dark sky
above shifted into place, directly above her head.

“Get this bird down,” Nick
groaned, his words slurred by the severe loss of blood.

Tate turned to him and found
both his hands, blood-soaked, wrapped around the co-pilot’s flight-stick.

“Hold on,” she said again.

Nick grimaced, a ghostly mask
of pale flesh. He coughed again and the cockpit on his side was covered in a
layer of red spittle. His eyelids fluttered and one of his hands slipped away
from the flight-stick. Instantly, Black Bird bucked and swayed like a raging
bull. The sudden jolt snapped Nick back to awareness. His free hand returned to
the control, wrapping slick fingers into a tight fist.

“We don’t have much time,” he
managed to say.

The Huey dropped lower, the
tip of the tallest trees scratching at the aircraft’s underbelly. Somehow,
between them, they managed to bring the Huey higher, just missing a collision
with the hard scab of earth directly underneath.

***

A sickening wash of vertigo pushed Ella back inside.
The aircraft banked hard left and the ground below became a horrible blur of
motion. Reaching out blindly, she pulled her head back inside the cabin.

Ben appeared at her side.
“Where the hell is Squirrel and Hutson?” he asked crazily.

Ella opened her mouth but the
wind stole her voice. With one trembling finger, she pointed outside.

Throwing his arms wide, Ben
wedged himself in the opening of the cabin. “Jesus Christ,” he cursed, finding
Squirrel and Hutson dangling from the helicopter’s skid. “
HOLD
ON
!” he cried.

They looked up, terror
holding them tight.

Ben looked around the cabin,
desperate for help. He found it, surprisingly, in the shape of a dark coil of
cable. He yanked the cable towards him, unthinkingly ripping the plug free from
the generator’s control box.

Instantly the Huey’s nose
blinked out as The Ray of Hope flickered and died.

“GRAB THIS!” Ben called,
throwing the cable outwards. The wind caught it and slammed it against the
hull, where it snapped and thrashed about like a tormented cobra. “Damn!” Ben
coiled the cable back around his arm and then tried again, this time feeding it
slowly towards them. It fell straight, flapping wildly between them.

“TAKE IT!” Squirrel mouthed
through gritted teeth.

“YOU FIRST,” Hutson replied,
seeing that the mechanic’s strength was almost spent.

“Okay,” he agreed, too weak
to argue. He reached out, snagging the cable with one hand. He took a breath –
possibly his last – and then let go of the metal skid. For one terrifying
second he felt as if he was going to tumble to his death. Yet in the next, Ben
had pulled him inside the cabin and to safety.

“Hurry, she can’t hold on
much-” Squirrel stopped. His heart sank. “Wait, where the hell did that come
from?” A dark, grubby hand gestured towards the coil of cable in Ben’s hands.
“Please, don’t tell me it came from here!” he said, his other hand indicating
the generator.

“No time for apologies,” Ben
snarled, turning his back on the mechanic. He looked out of the cabin, intent
on throwing the cable to Hutson.

The lieutenant was gone.

Lost forever to the darkness
below.

Chapter
Fifty-Four

They
tore
through the passageway with the beast stumbling close behind them. Rebecca’s
arms pumped up and down vigorously, and the terrier’s short legs moved in a
blur of constant motion.

The thing behind them lurched
forwards, its longer legs carrying it closer to its intended prey. Dr. Miller’s
fevered mind forced him on and the hunger in his veins drove any sense of
reasoning away. As he passed underneath the bulkhead lights, they seemed to
burn clear his delirium, momentarily, and the harsh white light forced flickers
of memory to form within his brain. The first was of him chasing another little
girl, around a garden, the girl squealing with unbridled joy: A picture of
happier times from a better world. He moved beyond the white glare and joy was
instantly replaced by terror. The next shaft of light formed a picture of
darkness. He was sitting on a cold, damp floor with pathetic, foul-smelling
figures huddled all around him. His hands appeared and they were bloodied. A
small bundle of flesh twitched within his grasp and the woman before him wept
at the sight of her newborn child: Hannah Cain’s child. Dr. Miller cleared the
cone of light and the picture of his earlier imprisonment drifted away like a
weary breath.

The corridor bent to the
right, a deep patch of darkness, and terrible ravenous phantoms haunted
Miller’s mind. Another light burned the darkness back and, now, a beautiful
face materialised in his mind - a young woman, dark-haired and mysterious. The
woman offered a string of promises, the promise of freedom, both for himself
and, more importantly, for his daughter, Ella. Help in escaping the clutches of
Ezekiel, if he assisted in infiltrating the humans’ hideout. And all he had to do
was convince them that his companion was human. Simple.

Dr. Miller entered another
patch of darkness and the hunger in his veins quashed any remaining memories.
Now, his mind was filled with a deafening chatter of voices: Feed… Hunt…
KILL!

Rebecca raced into the next
tunnel, Scratch guiding her with the clatter of his claws. The passageway
tilted downwards and she picked up speed, her arms flailing about her like the
sails of a windmill.

Yap
!
Yap
!

Rebecca rounded a bend to
find the little mutt prancing excitedly outside an open hatchway. She slid to a
halt, her lungs burning for breath. She chanced a quick look over her shoulder.
A long, twisted shadow slithered along the wall behind, dark phantoms reaching
out to grab her. She bent, plucked the mutt up and then stuffed him into the
front of her jacket. Then she stepped through the opening and found herself
inside a cramped access shaft. The stench of blood almost forced her back. Yet
the fear of what lay behind pushed her on. A single metal ladder climbed out of
view. Rebecca reached out to take hold of the first rung. It felt warm and
slippery. She tightened her grip and began to climb. A heavy thud came from
below. The beast still followed. Rebecca looked down. The vampire had begun to
climb also.

She scurried upwards, but her
short arms and the burden of the terrier hampered her progress. The beast drew
closer. She reached for the next rung. An iron fist closed around her ankle and
her hand missed completely. Hanging precariously, she kicked her foot back
instinctively. Her boot connected with something hard and the grip slipped
free. At the top of the ladder Rebecca saw a slight glimmer of light. Not a
bright white, but just a lighter shade of grey. She redoubled her efforts and
forced all her strength to her arms and legs.

Dr. Miller was just a few
rungs below Rebecca. A scream of terror echoed throughout the shaft. Fear
generated newfound strength as she raced upwards, but the beast had its own
motivation, and it kept coming.

The warm scent of his prize
drew the vampire closer. The next rung brought him directly underneath the
girl. His hand snapped out like a venomous snake. He wrapped his fingers around
her ankle and squeezed tight.

Terrified, Rebecca kicked out
again. This time the Doctor’s head twitched sideways and the assault missed.
She felt a sudden tug, her fingers came away from the ladder and she fell
backwards, instantly smothered in the vampire’s cold embrace. In desperation,
she rammed her head back. A sharp
crack
sounded and the tight embrace
loosened.

A gout of blood burst inside
Dr. Miller’s mouth. He roared in anger and pounced upwards. He caught her
between his outstretched arms. Rebecca twisted and watched as bloodied jaws
opened wide. In an obscene gesture, the vampire wagged the point of his tongue
from between his fangs. Suddenly, a second set of canines appeared. The
terrier’s head darted out from Rebecca’s jacket as he snapped at the
blasphemous organ, catching the very tip between his sharp teeth.

The vampire released a
muffled cry of pain and surprise. Dr. Miller tried to pull back, but the little
mutt hung on. Miller pushed his head against the wall of the shaft with his
arms locked out straight. Now free, Rebecca tried to turn back towards the
ladder. The hind legs of Scratch got caught inside her jacket, and Rebecca
found herself twisted awkwardly to one side. Something hard jabbed painfully at
her side.

The vial of water!

Instantly, she remembered the
effect the crystal and water had had on the vampires earlier. Jamming her hand
into her pocket, she clutched eagerly at the object. It felt warm against her
fingers. She pulled it free. A burst of blue light filled the shaft in a
brilliant incandescent beam. A sickening sizzling noise began to grow.

Rebecca turned around and
watched with fascination as the vampire’s tongue began to burn and blister. The
moisture within the tongue began to dry and deep sores opened up along its
surface, crisscrossing in a network of grooves. Rebecca jammed the vial closer
to the thing’s head. The vampire’s eyes rolled into the back of its skull.
Eyelids clamped themselves shut, tightly. The righteous glow burnt through the
thin membranes. Eyeballs began to weep rivers of blood. One eye burst like an
overripe tomato. The other shrivelled inside its cavity like a dried-up raisin.

Scratch held on. He sank his
teeth deeper before thrashing his head from side to side. With a gut-churning
rip,
the tongue came free. It split halfway, one of the deeper sores giving way, and
the dog was left with an inch of burnt flesh between his teeth. He spat it out
and the charred morsel fell into darkness.

The blue light spread out
from between Rebecca’s fingers. It seemed to be in tune with her heart, as it
beat steadily stronger with every pulse. Rebecca felt her fear dissolve and in
its place a deep anger began to grow. She looked at the vampire’s ghastly face
and her rage threatened to leak from every pore. She curled her fingers around
the vial, leaving an open fist. Then, with a roar of vengeance, she rammed her
palm up against the thing’s face. With an audible crack the glass vial
shattered inside the vampire’s mouth.

Dr. Miller gagged. Liquid
fire burnt its way to the back of his throat. He spat out a mouthful of glass
shards, yet the agony intensified.

Pushing Scratch back into her
jacket, Rebecca spun to face the ladder. Without pause she continued to climb
to safety. The vampire snapped his hand out but his fingers snatched at thin
air. Rebecca was already out of his reach.

The agony inside Dr. Miller’s
throat swelled as the fire spread throughout his body. One of his hands slipped
from the ladder as he toppled backwards. His right leg caught between two rungs
and his shinbone snapped in half, adding to his misery. Then a flicker of white
light blinked from behind the vampire’s shrivelled eyelids. It started as a
dull glitter and then quickly it became a fierce blaze that began to burn away
Dr. Miller’s skin.

As if stepping out of a
rumpled suit, his skeleton broke free, harsh white bone cutting through the
layer of charred flesh. For a second, his skeleton hung from the ladder. Sinews
and cartilage split apart, which sent his remains bouncing downward in a rattle
of hollow bones. The swath of burnt skin followed, fluttering towards the base
of the ladder in a dark cloud. A small sphere of pure light hovered for a
second, before bouncing violently from one side of the shaft to the other.

Rebecca looked up to find an
open access directly above her head. Below her, the sphere of light bounced
aggressively from one side to the other, and the intensity of the light forced
Rebecca’s eyes shut. She reached up blindly, hand over hand, and eventually
topped the ladder. Her head cleared the shaft as a blast of bitter wind cut at
her exposed face. She squinted and then quickly pulled Scratch clear. Holding
onto the very top of the ladder, she dropped the mutt onto the hard scab of
earth. She pulled herself out before standing on unsteady legs.

The hole at her feet
flickered in a strobe-like effect. She chanced a look inside and was instantly
blinded as the bolt of light shot free. With a scream, it arced away towards
the fat rolling clouds above. Mesmerised, she watched as the ball of light cut
through the black dust.

What lay beyond made Rebecca
weep with joy.