Vampire Apocalypse: Descent Into Chaos (Book 2) (23 page)

“I wasn’t great at obeying orders before the vampires
came, doesn’t seem much point in starting now.”

Harris looked along the grinning faces before him.
Dee Ratigan stood next to Warkowski but she had an arm entwined
around a still-grinning Rodgers.

“You finally got him to do something, then?” he asked
Dee as he nodded at Rodgers.

“Nope,” she grinned. “Got tired of waiting so I took
the initiative.”

“Good for you.” He grinned and nodded to Scott
Mitchell, Aidan Flemming and Carlos Ortega. His eyes met those of
Dave Sherman and he tilted his head to the side in question. “You
sure about this?”

“I wasn’t doing anything else today,” Sherman
shrugged. “Tomorrow, now that would have been a problem.”

“You better get going, Steele,” Harris nodded to the
other man. “I’ll need somebody…”

“I’ll give him a hand and catch up with you later.”
Sherman was already moving forward.

“No, I need you to organize the explosives so we’re
not delayed.” Harris looked along the faces. “Ortega, go with
Steele and help him get his vehicle fuelled and out of storage. You
may need to force your way in, but remember, Lucy is one of the
good guys, so no violence. Tell her I’ll explain when we get
back.”

Harris looked back at his men and frowned as he saw
something cross Sherman’s face, but then it was gone and the man
was smiling again. He soon forgot it during their hectic
preparations. Phelps was no fool; he would come after them as soon
as he could find any troops who would follow him. Of course,
thankfully, there weren’t too many left for him to find.

Sherman cursed as he was led away to prepare the
explosives. The day had started off so well. He had met the cute
nurse, Amanda, last night and had spent an enjoyable night wooing
her. He had been attentive and interesting, regaling her with
stories of dangerous missions while ensuring she saw his sensitive
side. He had assured her he was very interested in her and her job
and had spent hours probing gently about her position and how
important it was. He had slowly come around to asking her about the
dangers of issuing the wrong medications and had listened patiently
while she explained about the different cases she was responsible
for. He had feigned interest and asked what might be the worst
medication that she could issue in error, and once he had her
answer he was finally able to spend the rest of the night gutting
her.

She had died a little too quickly, though, and this
morning he still felt a little cheated, though still in a buoyant
mood. He had hid the body quickly and had planned to return later
for a more thorough job after he had taken care of Steele. Amanda
was due on duty at nine o’clock so he hoped to get to the hospital,
issue the medication to Steele, and get out before her absence was
noted.

It was just his luck that he met the rest of the
platoon on their way to the hospital too. They assumed that he,
like them, had decided to offer their support to Harris and, as he
had no other reason to be at the hospital, he had been forced to
play along. Now he was stuck and he’d have to go on another
mission. He had hoped to get to Steele while he was fuelling his
vehicle but that plan had crashed as well. In fact, the only good
news so far this morning was that, as Steele related what he was
about to do, Sherman realized that there was no way in hell he was
going to survive. So he would not have to kill him after all.

He was only a little disappointed that he wouldn’t
get to do it himself; the main thing, though, was that he would be
out of the picture and that sweet young friend of his would be all
alone when he got back from this mission. Life was looking up.

The light was draining from the sky like blood from
an open wound and Carter could feel the weight of the oncoming
darkness as he strained to hear the approach of the vampires. His
stomach churned, knotting with nerves and tension as he waited for
the first signs of his masters. There was nothing more he could do.
Around him the tanks and gun emplacements that still remained
functional squatted like deadly, dark shapes against the lighter
tapestry of the sky. He had prepared as well as he could, given his
reduced resources, but the twisted and ruined outlines of those
tanks and vehicles that he had not been able to salvage were still
far too numerous to ignore. He wondered briefly if he should have
removed the destroyed husks, if for no other reason than it would
have looked better, but he knew he had acted correctly. That was
assuming that the vampires used the same logic as he did, of
course.

He had made a decision earlier in the day that
terrified him but also filled him with a resolve he had not
experienced in quite some time. His decision would have major
repercussions for them all, so much so that he was oblivious to how
momentous it was. At first his men had flatly refused to obey his
orders, but, eventually, they had relented, especially after he had
sent them to examine the torn and gutted corpses of the thralls who
had borne the brunt of the vampires’ last attack. He had based his
decision purely on self-preservation but, by the end of the day,
his men began to refer to him as master rather than the ‘sir’ that
his rank demanded.

He knew that Wentworth had his headquarters closer to
the front than Von Kruger and, crucially, that he and his men would
be on their own for at least twenty minutes before their own
vampire overlords would reach them. He wasn’t foolish enough to
think that Von Kruger, or any of his clan, would come to their
rescue. If it suited them then they might help, but, for all
intents and purposes, he and his men were on their own. They would
have to face Wentworth’s vampires alone. He had no idea how many
there would be—the thought of just one of them was terrifying
enough—but a sky full of them was incomprehensible.

He had deployed his men along his area of
responsibility; the areas of the border outside his jurisdiction
were not his concern. He couldn’t care less if those men were torn
apart—in fact, that would slow the vampires down and give him more
time to prepare. But he wasn’t going to sit idly by and wait to be
torn apart. Every time he devised a new strategy he had to fight
against a strange sensation that seemed to act against him. He was
only too aware that the very chemicals that made him a thrall and
granted him his strength and amazing abilities also ensured his
loyalty. Any time he tried to plan against a vampire attack the
details became cloudy and he found it hard to concentrate. In
frustration, he had driven out to the site of the vampires’ attack
and forced himself to study the slaughter. Strangely, he found it
easier to make his plans against the vampires in the middle of the
chaos that they had wrought. The grotesque, twisted bodies and the
smell of their decomposing helped against the strange effects of
his enforced obedience. In fact, by the time the sky had turned
amber he was quite enjoying the new twists that his mind was coming
up with.

He was no fool. He knew that even if he survived
against the initial assault and Von Kruger won the day that he
would never be allowed to live after killing another vampire, let
alone as many as he was planning to kill. Everything had changed.
The old world, if two years could be described as that, was gone.
Whatever happened tonight, the dawn would bring with it countless
changes, not least of which would be the new status of thralls in
this world.

Snow began to fall, lightly at first, and the wind
caught the flakes, swirling them around lazily, almost
hypnotically, before a gust would suddenly catch them and cast them
violently into his face or against one of the tanks. Most of the
flakes did not survive the treatment and they quickly melted once
they touched the warmer surfaces. Cold air snatched at him and he
shivered as he surveyed the sky. The temperature had dropped
drastically in the last hour. If the snow continued like this it
would start to stick, and that would only add to his problems.

None of the vehicles had snow tires so any mobile
attack would be fraught with danger. His stomach churned again and
his bladder ached. He forced his mind off his discomfort. All he
needed was for Von Kruger to arrive while he had his trousers
around his ankles. The image of him wilting under the vampire’s
stern gaze while his pecker was in his hands was too much, and he
laughed. What’s the worst he can do? He thought as he looked at the
pale, bloated face of one of Wentworth’s thralls in a gutted tank
beside him and he shrugged. I can only die once, after all.

Though what he did not know was that there were far
worse things than dying.

Far worse.

The escape from the community’s stronghold was a very
emotional and worrying event. Sandra couldn’t help but feel like a
fugitive. She had no doubt that what they were doing was the right
thing, but the potential for disaster weighed heavily on them all.
Whatever the outcome of the oncoming night, their existence would
change drastically. After tonight, the vampires would know they
existed. They could no longer hide away, silently orchestrating
unrest between their neighboring states. Now they would have to
stand alone against the full might of the vampires. If a whole
world failed to stand against them, how could their small community
hope to? They were doing this for the good of humanity and the
irony was that they were acting without the mandate of the only
cognizant group left that they knew of.

In order to save a world they had had to betray their
friends, stealing precious fuel and equipment like thieves instead
of colleagues. Even if they succeeded tonight, what would it
achieve? How many could they save while the vampires fought amongst
themselves? For that matter, how many could they care for and feed
back in the community with the resource shortages they had? Would
they even be allowed back into the community with their drugged
charges? Questions flooded her mind as their vehicles slipped out
of the city. She looked back but darkness was already creeping
across the buildings like a spilt inkwell, enveloping the cityscape
slowly but ineluctably into its embrace. She looked around at the
faces around her, smiling wanly at those that caught her eye. Each
person here was present more as a confirmation of their loyalty to
Harris than from any particular noble urge and she wondered if it
would be enough to sustain them if, and when, they returned.

She sidled over to Harris and slipped her hand into
his. He looked up briefly and smiled at her distractedly as he
quickly returned to the papers in front of him. She looked at the
crude drawings and noted the countless scribbles and crumpled
papers littering the floor around him. Obviously the plan was not
coming together as easily as he would have liked.

“You know you can’t hope to save them all, don’t
you?” she gently reached out and eased his face towards hers. She
could see the anguish in his eyes and wondered if the pressure
would ever relent. Harris was incapable of turning off. She
supposed that it was an admirable quality in some ways, but there
was also the risk of descending into fanaticism. He hadn’t quite
slipped that far, but she would have to watch him. Sometimes you
had to take a step back or you were in danger of falling off the
edge.

“I know,” he sighed as he crumpled another sheet and
let it fall absently from his fingers, “but this is the best shot
we’re going to get.”

“Just remember that we can’t feed the thousands even
if you could get them to the Promised Land, Moses.” She kissed him
on the cheek and left him to his planning.

Steele turned his Honda TS1300 onto the highway and
eased the throttle higher. He had forgotten how much he loved the
feeling of driving at night. The wind snatched at him, easily
penetrating the layers he wore and forced his heart to thump faster
as it tried to keep him warm. His wound still ached but he had
enough painkillers to keep the worst of it at bay for the journey.
He doubted he’d need them on the way back—there wouldn’t be a
return journey.

Karma, he thought. It was just his time to pay for
all the things he had done. The fact that he would have a chance to
do some good, to make a difference would, he hoped, have some
impact on his final judgment. By delivering his message to Von
Richelieu he would accomplish two things. One, he would hopefully
buy humanity time by stopping the serum being used. And two, he
would most likely doom what remained of those who remained
free.

He hadn’t really spent a lot of time deciding if this
was the right option or not. In his view it was the only option.
Whatever the impact on the small community who had given him a
reason to live, and whatever the impact on April in particular, it
would be wrong to put the needs of such a small number ahead of
millions. He did not know how it would all work out, and he would
most likely never find out. He hoped that what he did would have a
positive impact though. And, he had a small surprise that might
just buy his adopted family a little more time than they were
expecting.

Now all he had to do was get across the country
without being shot, crashing or having that damn bullet rub against
his spine and leaving him useless and paralyzed by the side of the
road.

Piece of cake.

Ian Phelps fumed as he watched the two vehicles blend
into the darkness and disappear. For a minute he considered sending
his forces after them, but he wasn’t entirely sure that the men and
women who were left would obey such an order. Now was not the time
to lose face. He would have to be cleverer than that. Most of the
team had left with Harris, and those that remained had only done so
because they had not had the time to join him. He had seen the
disappointment on their faces as they had arrived in full kit only
to see the vehicles disappear in the distance. He would have to
remove these men and women and replace them with people who would
obey him and not Harris if he were ever to truly be in command.