Vampire Apocalypse: Descent Into Chaos (Book 2) (17 page)

He had also invented the coating that allowed their
ammunition to tear the vampires to pieces. Harris had no idea how
it worked but it had something to do with using the properties
found in wood that accelerated the vampires’ metabolism. In short,
it leveled the playing field—somewhat.

There wasn’t an endless supply of ammunition, by any
means, though they had a good supply in their stores that they had
found in a nearby army base. The ammunition they had found did not
fit the weapons that they had wanted to standardize, though, so
they still had to issue too many different types of weapons and it
was difficult to keep track. Training was also a problem as people
were trained on one weapon and had to make sure they were issued
with the correct ammunition or there would be chaos if they were
attacked by surprise.

And that only related to normal ammunition. When
dealing with the special bullets each one had to be coated
individually with the coating and then repacked into the clips so
it was impossible to keep everyone happy.

Smith beamed at Harris, crossed the room quickly and
hugged the younger man. “We were worried about you,” he said and
Harris could see the stress behind the man’s smile. Regan’s stunt
had been directed to cast doubt on Smith’s findings for the purpose
of increasing his own support, but it had done far more damage than
that. Father Reilly had pulled Harris aside after he had visited
his men in the hospital. He felt that Smith had taken the charge
against him personally and his inability to answer it at the time
and save his friends the problems they now faced had sent him
scurrying back into his lab. He had not emerged since.

“What’s this I hear about you disappearing in here?”
Harris hugged the man tightly.

“Forget about that, Peter,” Smith moved back to his
desk and picked up a number of sheets of paper. “I was hoping you’d
come to me before the meeting.”

Harris frowned. He knew that Regan had called a
meeting to discuss how the reins of power would pass from the
current council to his newly elected, and already chosen, new
government. The man wasted no time. Though why Pat would want to
attend was beyond him. While he was part of the council he rarely
attended unless he was specifically needed.

“What’s wrong, Pat?” Harris asked as he saw the
nervous twitch at the man’s mouth.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,” he
began but then looked at the papers in his hands as if unable to
look at Harris. “Some researcher I am.”

“Pat,” Harris reached for the man’s arm and smiled
reassuringly. “Pat, you have to stop taking everything on to your
own shoulders. You have done more than anybody to ensure everyone’s
survival. Now tell me what’s up”

“After Regan accused me of basing my theories on
flawed grounds I went back to all my research.” Harris nodded as he
leaned against a nearby desk and settled in to hear his friend
out.

“At the time I was doing the research I was looking
at its effects on humans, you understand.”

Harris nodded and shrugged as if to say that there
was no other way to look at it.

“This time, I studied the effect the serum was having
on the blood itself, rather than its ultimate effect on humans.”
Harris raised his eyebrow but stayed silent, happy to let the
diminutive man come to the point in his own time.

“The blood is permanently damaged by the serum over
time, the cells themselves are changed.”

Harris leaned forward. “Are we still in danger?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Smith sighed hurriedly.
“Once we clean the serum from the body the new blood that the body
generates washes the effects clean over time. This explains why the
newly weaned people are so tired for such a long time, though. Now
I know about it I can develop a few pick-me-ups to help with the
blood re-generation.”

“That’s great, Pat, but it hardly requires a meeting
with Regan at this stage.”

“Give me some credit, dear boy,” Smith clucked as he
laid the paper on the shelf and stared directly at Harris. “We are
not, as you well know, the only ones who depend on blood.”

“The Vampires,” Harris whispered.

“Exactly so.” Smith agreed. “Based on the research I
used in developing your ‘magic bullets’ I have applied the same
theorems. I also had some frozen samples to try out. I’m afraid
that these cannot be relied upon for truly accurate data as the
parasitic cells quickly die off outside the vampire’s body. But, as
with the coating on the bullets, we know that anything affecting
these cells has a knock on effect on their metabolism.”

“Are you telling me that they’re sick?” Harris tried
to keep his heart from racing.

“If I’m right,” Smith sat back on his chair, “not
only are they sick—they’re dying.”

“Holy shit!”

“So all we have to do is sit back and wait for them
to die.”

The words seemed to hang in the air in the council
room as Pat Smith finished explaining his latest findings.

This was exactly the reaction Harris had expected
from Regan, and the one reaction he could not accept.

“It’s not as easy as that.” Harris rose and addressed
the council. Everyone was there, including Sandra, despite the
doctor’s frown and threat to rescind her pass for that evening’s
dinner. Harris looked across at the new members that would now
comprise their new government. He didn’t recognize many of them and
he despaired for their community as he looked along the sea of
uncaring faces.

“What do you mean?” Regan eased back in his chair.
“If they’re dying then we don’t have to risk our lives in these
foolish forays of yours.”

“I can’t predict which will happen first.” Smith
leaned forward and tried to put across the information as
succinctly as possible. “The serum changes the human blood and
adapts the coagulation agents in the blood itself. Literally the
blood will no longer sustain the parasitic cells. First the
vampires will begin to become more prone to outbursts of violence
as the cells begin to die off. They will need to feed more
regularly and that will only accelerate the symptoms. They will
become far more violent and less rational until; finally, they will
begin to die. But first they will be driven mad by the constant
thirst.” He paused as the stress of overwork began to take its
toll. Harris put a hand on his shoulder and finished for him.

“What Pat means is that if the serum does not kill
the human prisoners then the bloodbath created by the vampires’
insanity certainly will. If we wait it out then there’s a big
chance that all the human prisoners will be slaughtered before the
serum even has a chance to kill the vampires.”

The room descended into silence as everyone
considered the information. Harris looked along the faces of the
older council members and could see their understanding. He looked
over at Regan and could see no compassion there at all.

“So what would you do, Harris?” Patricia Lohan asked
as she leaned forward and placed her chin on the back of her
crossed hands. Her movements were lithe, her smile seductive, but
the coldness she exuded ruined any façade she may have wanted to
portray. Harris was suddenly reminded of a cat watching a cornered
mouse and he paused for a moment before answering.

“We should warn them.”

“What?” Ragan exploded from his chair. “Are you
actually advising that we try and save the murdering bastards? I
thought you wanted to kill them?”

“I do,” Harris admitted with a sigh. “But not at the
expense of the entire human race. If we tell them of the danger and
they stop using the serum then it will give us more time to rescue
more people.”

“You are aware, of course,” Lohan smirked as she ran
a pen over her lips, “that by warning them we would also be hanging
out a sign that we are here and that we have a nice clean blood
supply to tide them over. Once they know that they will scour the
country searching for us and, come the spring when they get their
full senses back, they will find us easily.”

Harris couldn’t hold her gaze. “Yes, I’m aware of
that.”

“And still you suggest we should do it?” Regan
spluttered incredulously.

Harris did not answer. He was well aware of what he
was suggesting and the danger that he would expose them all to. It
was a question of morality though, of doing what was right. He had
not expected Regan or any of his group to understand, but he had to
try.

“We would have been discovered eventually but,
admittedly, I had hoped to have a force large enough to fight back
by that time.” Harris was well aware that his argument sucked but
he pressed on regardless. “This way we will have to let them know a
little sooner than planned.”

Lohan coughed slightly and all heads turned toward
her. “There’s also the fact that if the vampires can no longer use
the serum to keep their captives in line that they will resort to
cruelty and fear to replace it.”

”I’m aware of that,” Harris frowned at her. “It buys
us time though.”

Ian Phelps suddenly snapped his pen in two as he
leaned forward hurriedly. “Harris,” he began, his face open and,
for the first time, Harris saw that the man was truly bewildered.
“I’m having trouble grasping this.”

Regan laughed.

“No, I’m serious,” Phelps interrupted the community’s
new leader before Regan could steer the conversation away. “I’m
intrigued. I have a lot of respect for you, Harris.” He looked at
Harris earnestly, “No, really I do. I may not agree with you but
you are a clever man. Surely you never really thought you could
save them all?”

Harris looked at the man. He had questioned his own
thoughts and motivations many times trying to make sure that he was
being realistic in his goals and was not developing a God Complex.
He still hadn’t found an answer that he was happy with.

“If the current campaign is successful then there is
the potential to rescue quite a lot of people.”

“Specifically?” Phelps pressed him.

Harris could see where Phelps was steering the
conversation now but he was committed to his course of action and
had to hope that there would be enough cool heads to see past
Phelps’ petty sniping. “There are some two hundred thousand people
between the two states by our conservative estimates. I believe we
have a good chance of rescuing maybe ten thousand of them.”

Phelps nodded and pursed his lips as if agreeing. He
gave the others just enough time to take in what Harris had said
before he began. “Harris, even in the best possible scenario we
know that the states will not wipe each other out.” Phelps paused
as if waiting for agreement from Harris and, seeing none, he
continued. “Sooner or later other states will become involved and a
truce will be made. There is really only a limited opportunity to
get any prisoners out, and we can only hope to sneak a handful at a
time without discovery. On top of that we can also only handle so
many survivors at any one time. Both in spiriting them back here
unseen and in how many we can actually accommodate with our current
space restrictions and food supplies. Stop me if I’m wrong here.”
He paused and looked around the table.

He waited but no one interrupted so he shrugged and
continued. “And if we warn the vampires we are here, don’t you
think they might join forces to find us rather than continue to
fight each other? How many people will you be able to save then?”
Harris had to hand it to Phelps—he had effectively shattered any
shred of credibility Harris might have had.

Phelps eased back in his chair and then thought
better of it and leaned back over the table. “For that matter, how
would we even make contact with them to tell them? Would they even
believe us?”

“There would be only one way to be sure the message
is taken seriously.” Harris dropped his gaze to the table.

“My God.” Phelps suddenly realized what Harris was
saying. “You really do think you can save them all, don’t you?
You’re bonkers.”

“What are you talking about?” Regan turned towards
Phelps, his voice rising slightly as he lost the significance of
what was being said.

“Harris plans on going to the vampires in person to
tell them of the serum’s deadly payload.” Phelps let his pen drop
to the table and looked around at the others.

“But that’s suicide!” Regan exclaimed and looked at
Harris with incredulity.

Silence fell over the room like a heavy blanket as
the committee members looked at their hands or the papers on the
desk before them. Harris looked around the table but could only see
shock and horror in their faces rather than the compassion and
understanding he had hoped for. Finally he looked to his side
towards Sandra. He had not had time to talk through his plans with
her and her icy glare did nothing for his case.

“I’m not going in half-cocked, you know,” Harris
insisted but Sandra had already brushed past him and he was forced
to hurry after her despite her slow pace.

“I have no intention of committing suicide, I’m not
mad.”

She stopped briefly and held his gaze. Her eyes were
filled with tears and they shimmered with barely held rage. One
solitary drop rolled rebelliously down her cheek and she brushed it
away angrily.

“How dare you do that to me,” she paused as anger and
exhaustion took their toll. “Do I mean so little to you that not
only do you plan on getting yourself killed, but you weren’t even
going to let me know? Were you going to send me a letter?”

“It wasn’t like that; I’m only just back…”

“Exactly,” she snapped. “You’re only just back and
already you’re planning another trip. And this one you don’t even
plan on coming back from.”

“I do plan on coming back.” His voice rose in volume
before he could stop it and she started as if struck. “I’m sorry,”
he continued quietly, “I haven’t had much sleep. Can we sit
somewhere and talk? I never had any intention of even mentioning it
until we’d spoken but Phelps had me on the ropes and I…”