Vampire Apocalypse: Descent Into Chaos (Book 2) (26 page)

He rationalized his actions with the knowledge that
the serum had to be stopped to ensure everyone’s future. Once he
had done that he hoped that his guilt would ease, though it was not
for himself primarily that he did this. There could be other small
groups of survivors in other parts of the world. He fervently hoped
that there were. He prayed regularly that the people he had helped
escape two years ago had actually gotten away and were even now
building a future. There had to be other groups, but they would all
die if the vampires lost their sanity and their main source of
food. They would destroy everything in their rabid search for
blood. They were bound to uncover any survivors, no matter how well
they were hidden.

In many ways it would be simpler if he did not come
back from tonight’s raid. His presence in the community was
becoming more tenuous every day, and he had had enough of fighting,
both with the vampires and with the constant bickering in the
council meetings. He was drained. He had been given two years and
he had done everything he could to ensure the community’s survival,
but he felt now that he had come to a crossroads.

He felt a strange calm inside him that he didn’t
usually feel once the mission had started. Normally his stomach
would be knotted with tension at this point. He accepted his fate.
He should have died two years ago anyway.

“You all know your positions,” he scanned their
faces. He felt tears welling in his eyes and he hastily drew the
balaclava over his head to hide them. “It’s been an honor knowing
you all.” He saw their confusion at his words but he did not
elaborate.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Warkowski frowned as he listened to Harris. He was
talking as if he did not plan on coming back. He had seen men
before in his years in the military that had that haunted look.
Usually just before they took a stupid risk or crashed out of the
army for mental reasons. He would have to watch him. Harris was
their focal point. His was the will that drove them all. Warkowski
was honest enough with himself to know that he would never take
such risks for others if Harris was not so dedicated to doing what
was right.

He was a good man himself but he would not risk
everything as he had done over the last few months if he did not
have a role model showing him what it meant to be selfless. He had
been happy to take part in raids when it meant that he would
hopefully find his family but, if he was honest, once he had
rescued them, he would have been happy to become a farmer and let
someone else look out for the captives. He had considered resigning
but never had the courage to face Harris’s disappointment. He knew
he owed his family’s life to Harris, most of his friends in the
community did. It was just a shame that more people did not tell
him how influential he was.

It took huge commitment to go against everyone for
something you believed in, and Harris had had to do that constantly
over the last few years. He saw the tears in Harris’ eyes and he
felt a deep dread in his stomach. He would have to watch Harris
this night or they might all lose something more precious than they
realized.

Sherman watched the people around him as they
prepared to leave for their positions. God it was sickening how
bloody good these people were. He was finished with it all. Why
should he risk his life for people he didn’t give a damn about? It
had been fun in the beginning, and it beat farming for a living,
but it had changed since then. Up till now they had gone on small
raids where the risk was relatively low, especially for someone who
knew how to appear to be involved while staying relatively far from
the fire fights. But Harris had them invading a fucking town now. A
town crawling with vampires. Next the bastard would have them storm
vampire head quarters.

No, it was time for a change of leadership. It was
unlikely that Steele would return from the vampires’ lair, and if
Harris were to have a tragic accident then it would leave the top
job vacant. And if the bloody thralls were too useless to kill him
then he would have to make sure that the job was finished for them.
Phelps had already come to him secretly regarding taking over
Harris’s position, so, while it would be tragic, everyone was aware
that Harris was forever taking too many chances. His death would
not be questioned.

Bastard has a death wish anyway so I’ll probably be
doing him a favor, he thought.

Von Kruger was annoyed. He could see the brief bursts
of light in the distance that signified the beginning of the
offensive. He could hear the rumbles of explosions and the screams
of terror, and he could taste the scent of blood in the air. And he
was still too bloody far away to do anything about it. Wentworth
and his cabal would decimate his thralls. His precious tanks and
equipment would be so much scrap metal by the time he got there. He
had miscalculated badly yesterday. He should have attacked
Wentworth’s forces earlier in the evening. Why he had delayed he
did not know. The old taboos and rules no longer held the same
power that they once did. He wasn’t sure why but he felt more free
than he had in years. The old ways were past. It was a new age; one
where the strongest would survive and the all others would fall in
line or die screaming.

He had taken an extra thirty minutes to organize his
forces when he had awoken. There was no point in arriving at the
border with only some of his forces and the rest arriving in
uncoordinated pockets. His summons had been sent yesterday and he
had lost four loyal vampires as they flew into the dawn to deliver
his messages to the far reaches of his province. It had been worth
it though. Cabal members were arriving with every moment and his
confidence grew with each addition.

He gathered his youngest vampires to him. His cabal
numbered more than four hundred in total and nearly two thirds were
older vampires who had followed him from Europe. They would be his
core. The younger vampires could still be very useful to him of
course but their loss would not trouble him too much. They danced
around him in anticipation as they sniffed at the air, and he cast
his voice out to them all, extolling their courage and their
loyalty. And then he sent them on their way.

They would be his first strike, his spearhead. They
would target Wentworth’s forces and tear through them with all the
eagerness of youth and raging hormones in their race to seek his
approval. Who cared if they died proving their loyalty to him? They
would weaken Wentworth’s forces and allow him to sweep in and
destroy all those who remained after the first wave.

After tonight he would rule twice the territory, and
then he would move against the others. He would use the new
vampires as his main thrust and eventually they would all either
prove their worth or die in his name. The council should never have
granted them recognition anyway; they were far too young to wield
such power. When he finished there would only be the strongest
left. And he would rule them all.

The council was weak, and it weakened all vampires
with its petty compromises. Vampires were creatures of violence,
not farmers of mindless humans. They had all grown weak over the
last two years. They did not hunt for their food anymore; instead
they sipped from glasses delivered to them at a dining table. It
sickened him how far they had been degraded. The council had to
die. But first he had to deal with that upstart Wentworth.

The time was here. He launched himself into the air
and he reveled in the power running through his veins. They had
gorged on humans before they had left and when they had run out of
them they had killed any thralls who had been close by. They were
ready for anything. Their power was at a peak. Nothing could stop
him.

Joshua Caine led the first wave of Von Kruger’s
vampires, and he gloried in the power. The wind carried the scent
of fear and blood, and his mind buzzed with anticipation. There was
no plan; there was no need for one. He would destroy anything in
his path. Human, thrall or even vampire. Von Kruger had told them
that tonight they would rewrite the rules. They were to kill and
feed on everything that stood against them. There were no
boundaries, no rules and no ruling class.

Success would bring with it rewards undreamt of and
failure would bring death. The thunder of the wings of over a
hundred vampires around him filled his head, and the power running
through his veins was intoxicating. The border suddenly appeared
before him and he could see the many fires of broken and burning
tanks and vehicles stretching along a line that disappeared into
the distance. Bodies lay everywhere, and dark shapes swooped around
the carnage, diving and attacking any forces still left alive.
Wentworth’s vampires were busy gorging and did not see them. This
would be easier than he had thought. He signaled to the others and
then dropped from the sky, his attention focused on his prey.

“Should we not attack now, sir?” the vampire asked
and cringed as Wentworth loomed over him.

“Let them fully commit first,” Wentworth explained
more calmly than the aide expected. “They have more forces than we
do so we have to even the odds with guile. We will attack when they
cannot pull out of the attack.”

Caine tore into the back of a vampire and felt the
sudden spray of blood splash over him. The vampire screamed and
twisted around to face him but Caine ripped at its face with his
talons before it could fully turn. Caine shouted with joy and
pressed in for the kill. Would he be the first vampire to kill
another in this new war? The honor filled him with pride as he
brought his talon down in a sweeping arc.

It wasn’t to be that that easy though. His victim had
just fed and his wounds were already healing as soon as Caine’s
talons left its skin. His surprise attack may have given Caine
first blood but the other vampire was recovering far too quickly
for his liking. Caine ducked as the other vampire suddenly swiped
back at him and narrowly escaped damage to his eye. The vampires
moved at a ferocious speed, each movement merely a blur to any
thrall or human, but each feint and attack was countered easily by
the combatants as each sought for the upper hand. Caine brought his
feet into play and raked at his enemy’s exposed chest and stomach.
The two figures fell to the ground with Wentworth’s soldier taking
the brunt of the fall.

Caine pressed his attack and brought his talon down
viciously along the vampire’s chest. Skin peeled back and blood
shot out from the wound, spraying into Caine’s face and driving him
wild with bloodlust. He was so intent on the blood that he did not
see his opponent begin to morph. New vampires were not able to
change their shape, except for the all important flying bat-shape.
No one knew why this was the case but it took years of practice to
form any other shapes. He realized with a terrible sinking feeling
that the screams that filled the night around him were mostly those
of his own men. They had caused a huge amount of damage initially,
some of Wentworth’s vampires already lay motionless on the ground,
but now he realized that their targets had all been well fed and
most of them had survived the first assault. They had easily soaked
up the punishment and were even now fighting back. All around him
he saw figures begin to shimmer as the vampires took on new,
terrifying and wickedly efficient shapes designed for close-quarter
fighting. His cabal began to falter.

His opponent cried out in pleasure as his own
transformation was completed, and then Caine felt himself driven
back against a nearby tank with enough force to send his body deep
into the metal. The vampire leapt at him, ripping and tearing the
metal around him as if it were paper. Caine fought back but his
razor-sharp claws grazed harmlessly off the creature’s hard
carapace that now covered his chest and lower regions. Only its
face and its evil red eyes were uncovered. The vampire’s mouth had
grown so wide and its teeth so numerous that Caine was not prepared
to go anywhere near it. His arm could disappear into that maw far
too easily.

He ducked under the next blow. The creature was just
a little slower than before with its heavy carapace making him more
sluggish and Caine managed to scramble to his feet. He could not
get a good look at his opponent in the dark as the many bright
fires splashing light over the carnage around him ruined his night
vision. The bastards had planned this, they had set a trap.
Wentworth did not have a lot of older vampires—most of the mature
vampires tended to gravitate to a master that was at least as old
as they were. Von Kruger had by far the greater number of ancient
vampires than any of the surrounding states, but Wentworth had used
those he did have to set this trap. He had to report to Von Kruger.
Caine jumped and spread his wings as he surged upwards. For a
moment he felt elation at having survived, but this was quickly
tempered by the view he got of the battlefield below. Many of his
strike force lay dead or dying with pathetically few of the enemy
dead to balance this. He had failed. But surely Von Kruger would
understand that he had been against a superior force?

He shouted an order for retreat and then looked
upwards only to see the night sky descend towards him. It was
strange, the darkness seemed to be alive as it shifted and
undulated. It was only when the first teeth tore at him that he
realized that the sky was filled with vampires.

“That evens the odds,” Wentworth laughed as he
watched his men tear into those vampires that remained. For a
moment he shuddered as he thought about what was happening.
Vampires had not fought like this ever before. They were a race
that survived by working together in secret, but something
fundamental had changed, and now over a hundred vampires lay dead
on the ground before him. He imagined that he should feel
different, frightened even that such a change could happen so
quickly, but he was surprised to feel nothing at all. Just an
eagerness to start the next round.