Vampire Apocalypse: Descent Into Chaos (Book 2) (15 page)

He had called for as many of his clan as were in the
area, and he had taken to the air to find out for himself what had
happened. He had left most of his clan behind in his haste, and his
anger grew with every stroke. The horizon had been merely a large
undulating glow in the distance when he had begun his journey, even
for his keen eyes. But, as he drew closer, he began to make out the
individual fires and their numbers shocked him.

How could they have taken so many? His mind burned
with more questions with each stroke and his anger grew as the
terrible reality became apparent. Someone would pay dearly for
this, he vowed. He saw dark shapes below him speeding in his
direction away from the fighting and he was outraged that his
forces were in retreat. He began to angle his descent towards the
vehicles; he would not tolerate such behavior from his forces. As
he grew closer the lead tank turned sharply to the right and the
other vehicles followed in a precision movement that did not have
the appearance of a frantic retreat. He paused for a moment,
allowing his wings to fan out and ride the breeze as the vehicles
continued their breakneck pace back towards the lines.

He was confused. Were they retreating or merely
repositioning? He watched the vehicles spread out in an arrow
formation and it dawned suddenly on him like a slap as the tanks
opened fire on the exposed rear of his own forces. The clever
bastards, he fumed as he watched his exposed ranks being torn apart
by the enemy armor.

This was the final straw. Somehow, Wentworth had
managed to rout his far superior forces. He must have cheated
somehow. There was just no way Wentworth could have achieved this
defeat with his paltry forces. He would never hear the end of this,
from Wentworth or from the other lords on the council. This would
be seen as weakness. He would be considered easy prey for any
forces that wanted his vast resources. He could not allow it.

Von Kruger had always been impetuous. He had always
found it hard to temper the animal instincts that were the very
core of the vampire within him with the cunning needed to remain
cloaked and undiscovered in a world where they existed in secret.
He had reveled in the freedom that the open war with the humans had
granted him and he had feasted, gorged on his enemies with a
reckless abandonment that had threatened to leave his territory,
and those around him, devoid of all life. He had pulled himself
back from the brink only when the council had sent a delegation to
inform him that he would receive no supplies of blood from the
other cabals if he continued such recklessness. They would not move
against him, of course. He was too feared for that and he
controlled far too much of the human’s technology to be dismissed
as merely a mad glutton. But there had been some logic to their
argument, so while, he had bowed to their wisdom, he had never
forgiven them for their interference.

He had come to regret his decision over the last two
years, and he yearned for the madness and glory of battle once
again. Vampires were creatures of chaos. They should not be waited
on with glasses of blood taken from cattle farms. They should use
their strength to take what they wanted and feed by ripping the
life from the living. They were becoming soft and he yearned for a
challenge—any challenge, lest he go mad with boredom. Surely it was
better to die wiping out the hated humans than to exist as soft,
pathetic farmers for eternity? He closed his wings and dropped
towards the battle at a frightening speed. His rational mind tried
to remind him that very heavy penalties could be levied against him
for any direct attacks on the thralls but, as his ferocity grew,
his rationality began to recede further and further. His mind
seethed and his blood lust finally overcame him and he exalted in
its potency.

He attacked the first tank, ripping the turret from
the main body like it was paper. His arms bulged with a strength
borne of fury and he tore the vehicle and its occupants to pieces.
The sudden flare of blood from a gutted thrall corpse filled him
with a burning urge and he sank his teeth into each of his victims
and gorged on their blood. It had been so long since he had gorged
and he lost himself in the feeling.

He was sick of feeding on captive humans, drinking
from glasses and becoming civilized. His mind no longer thought
rationally. He acted purely on impulse as he continued to tear into
the enemy thralls. He was dimly aware that other vampires had begun
to arrive. Some of them held off at first, unsure if they should
cross the taboo enforced on them by the council. Others happily
tore into the remaining thralls and the stink of death and blood
rose upwards towards the others and, finally, the lust took them
too and they joined the carnage.

Wentworth saw the thrall with radio phones still on
his ears approach him at a run and he frowned. Did the operator not
have runners to send his messages? He wondered idly. The thrall ran
to him and spent a few moments trying to regain his breath.

“Sir,” he began and then paused as he sucked in
another breath. “Sir, our tanks are being torn apart.”

“What. How?” Wentworth was shocked. There was no way
that Von Kruger’s forces could have anticipated their plan.

“I just received a report from the main force,” the
thrall paused as he looked at the vampire lord and he swallowed
hard.

“Out with it,” Wentworth snapped impatiently.

“Sir, they are being attacked by vampires.” The man
paused and seemed to brace himself for his master’s reaction.

Wentworth’s face drew back in an ugly snarl that
pulled his flesh tightly over his prominent jaw. His teeth seemed
to grow longer as the thrall watched and the vampire’s eyes seemed
to deepen and darken at the same time.

Wentworth shot up into the air, his arms turning to
wings as he jumped. Bones crunched and stretched in moments and
lifted the vampire clear of the ground. He uttered a call that
could not be heard by the thralls below, but there were many ears
sensitive to such a call and they flocked to him.

Below, the thrall looked upwards as he heard the
thunder of wings above. The night grew even darker as the moon’s
pale light was suddenly eclipsed.

The war had just escalated.

Things had changed. In all his planning, Wentworth
had never anticipated that Von Kruger would lose his reason and
actually attack his thralls. There had been a time, late in the war
with the humans, when some of the cabals could see the imminent
defeat of the humans and began to attack their neighboring cabals
as they began to grab as much as they could before the war
finished.

Thralls could not attack their masters, the fluids
passed between the vampire and a human when creating a thrall did
something to the thrall’s physiology that prevented them from
acting against their masters. Wentworth did not understand how it
worked exactly, but it did, and it had to. The vampires depended on
the thralls for their safety during the day and they had to be
absolutely certain that they were safe while asleep. Otherwise they
would be easy prey against any thralls brave enough to risk a
revolution.

To re-enforce this, the vampires made sure to
regularly pass these fluids to their closest thralls just in case
the conditioning’s effects waned over time. No one was really sure
if it would; thralls had been used for centuries to safeguard the
vampires during the day but they had always used careful breeding
in the past where whole generations of families were bred to serve
the vampires. They knew no better and lived only to serve their
masters. Now that the need for thralls had grown to such an extent
they had bestowed so much power on humans they knew nothing about
and whose loyalty had not been adequately explored. To counter this
threat, the vampires preferred to over-infuse their servants rather
than take a chance that their loyalty might degrade over time.

The main problem with allowing fighting amongst the
cabals was that it would pit thralls and vampires against each
other. It was possible in such a scenario that a thrall might be
forced to protect itself against a vampire and that their
conditioning might weaken as a result of that encounter. If they
survived the encounter, they might not be as loyal as before. This
type of disloyalty might spread if not identified, and then the
vampires would be helpless.

Continued warfare among the cabals would only serve
to further weaken the conditioning, so the council had banned any
conflict where vampires and thralls came in direct contact. What
Von Kruger had done was unforgivable. It was not even as if it was
a last resort. This was only a skirmish. The fact that it had been
going badly for Von Kruger was no excuse to retaliate in such a
fashion.

Wentworth now had a problem though. He could well
afford the loss of the thralls, he had plenty of humans to replace
any he might lose tonight, but he really could not afford to have
his armor destroyed. He could not assume that the council would
demand replacements from Von Kruger’s own supply. For one thing Von
Kruger had many contacts on the council and, as one of the older
vampires, he still retained a lot of weight in matters like this.
For another, if Von Kruger continued to tear his forces to pieces
there would be nothing to stop him from turning the battle and
smashing through Wentworth’s own paltry forces. In the light of day
he could claim that he had been attacked and had merely responded
with justifiable force. He could claim to have had no involvement
in the action at all. Where was the proof?

No, if Wentworth wanted to survive this night he
would have to break a few rules himself. Vampire had not fought
against vampire in millennia. There had been duels for the
leadership of a cabal over the centuries, of course, but their very
survival had always depended upon their secrecy, so open warfare
among the cabals had been viciously suppressed. It had been
centuries since the last time, as far as Wentworth was aware,
though as a relatively new vampire he relied on others to fill in
any historical background. Things had changed now that they ruled
the world. The council still forbade any direct violence but they
were not here at the moment and history tends always to be written
by the victor.

If he had to set his vampires against Von Kruger’s in
order to emerge the winner, then he was prepared to do that. Von
Kruger’s main cities were a long way from the border so he could
not have too many vampires with him, while he had nearly a hundred
just a short distance away. He had already dispatched one of his
vampire lieutenants to the nearby towns to gather more vampires and
bring them here. If Von Kruger wanted a war then he would have one.
He called to those around him to follow and he flew towards the
fighting with powerful, even strokes. There was still time to save
what was left of his forces and maybe replace any equipment before
the dawn came.

One way or the other, there would be a victor
tonight.

The melee was fast and incredibly violent. Wentworth
and his vampires flew high above the border and their incredible
eyesight easily made out Von Kruger and his forces as they were
finishing off Wentworth’s invading force. The vampires were totally
engrossed in the carnage and never even saw them. Von Kruger had
seven vampires in his party, each one drenched in blood and gore as
they played with those thralls that still lived. Wentworth had
twelve vampires with him, and many more should already be on their
way.

Wentworth brought in his wings, closing them firmly
against his sides, and dropped towards the grisly scene below,
picking up speed as he plummeted down. The others followed. They
might be reluctant to attack other vampires, but Wentworth was
their master and they would obey him in all matters. There was no
physiological superiority between vampires. One vampire dominated
another through sheer strength and fear. Wentworth was far younger
than most of the vampires he led but his authority was
unquestioned; at least, it was now with the heads of those who had
questioned him still gracing his headquarters for all to see.
Besides, there had been a great rivalry between the two states for
some time now and Wentworth’s vampires were still sore about losing
the power station.

The first pass left Von Kruger and his squad dazed.
Wentworth and his vampires tore through them, ripping flesh,
breaking bones and leaving their victims reeling with the shock of
the attack. Wentworth and his squadron continued high into the sky
and banked almost lazily as they came back for a return pass. Von
Kruger and his vampires were already healing from their wounds but
the pain was intense as the damaged flesh and bone began to knit
back together. The energy needed for such healing was incredible
and only their previous gorging had allowed their bodies to mend at
all.

By the time the others came back towards them most of
the serious damage was already repaired, though each of them was
close to exhaustion. Von Kruger saw Wentworth among the pack and he
rose into the air to intercept him. His body cracked painfully as
he changed. Muscles ripped and stretched, bone popped from sockets
and broke to accommodate the changes. Flesh tore and blood flowed
around his changing body. For a brief second he felt blackness
threaten to overwhelm him and he thought for a moment that he had
gone too far, but he forced his mind to focus on the change and he
used the pain to keep his thoughts clear. He was an ancient vampire
and he would not be defeated. He let his anger boil through him,
giving him strength and clarity and then, suddenly, the change was
complete and he lashed out at Wentworth with a huge talon.

Wentworth was too new a vampire for his flesh to
metamorphose like Von Kruger and the vision that transformed before
him gave him pause. It was a creature from a nightmare. Its face
was contorted into an insane snarl, its teeth long and far too
numerous for its mouth. Its body was like that of a lion but it had
wings sprouting from its back and talons that ended in viciously
sharp points on its legs and at the tips of the wings
themselves.