Vampire Apocalypse: A World Torn Asunder (Book 1) (10 page)

“Sandra got off …” he began to
say to ease her father’s mind, but his voice faltered when he saw
the body of Tyrone Johnson in the man’s arms. In all the excitement
Harris had forgotten about Johnson and he immediately felt a
terrible guilt for his failure to remember the man’s sacrifice.

Harrington looked up at Harris.
“Was it all worth it?”

Harris paused and knelt beside
the body. “I think you know the answer to that,” Harris replied
with a deep sigh. “We saved one hundred and seventy people tonight.
I don’t know about you, but that’ll do me for an epitaph.”

The two men locked eyes.

“We really must go, Dan. The
first response team will be here any minute,” Harris pressed
gently.

He picked up a stake from the
ground and handed it to Harrington. With a sigh Harrington placed
the point of the stake over Johnson’s heart and leaned heavily on
it until the point pushed through the heart and into the soft earth
below.

Harris looked up when he heard
the first sounds of a helicopter in the distance. Both men stood
and melted into the few remaining shadows of the surrounding
forest.

The four trucks raced along the
road. Jack Ryan drove the lead truck with wild abandonment and
grimaced every time he missed a gear and the engine screamed in
protest. His heart still beat like a jackhammer from his encounter
with Nero. The master vampire had limped back to town and stormed
into the thralls” barracks. Ryan had been there with his commander
when the door literally burst open and flew across the room.

“What are you doing sitting on
your arse?” Nero spat the words at the commander. “Didn’t you see
what happened?”

Nero had reached the commander’s
desk in two strides. He leaned over, grabbed the commander’s shirt
and lifted him clear over the desk with one hand.

Ryan had fallen off his chair
when the door had burst open and he sat sprawled against the wall
while the scene played out in front of him, too petrified to move
and announce his presence.

“My Lord,” the commander
stammered, “we have already sent the helicopter and I have a truck
being readied at this very moment.”

“One truck!” Nero snarled and
then without warning he ripped the commander’s head clean off.

Ryan shuddered as he remembered
the scene. The master vampire had seemed to place his hand on the
commander’s head in a patting motion, as if the information had
placated him. Then suddenly the commander’s head was in one of the
vampire’s hands and the limp torso in the other. He had thrown the
body across the room and the next minute he was looming over
Ryan.

“I want you to round up every
thrall in this base, pack them into every truck you have and get up
to that compound.” The creature spoke calmly, even reasonably, but
Ryan saw the wildness in the creature’s eyes. “They can’t have gone
too far. Find them and you will be well rewarded. Fail and you will
join your colleague.”

Ryan had scrambled to his feet
and ran from the office in a panic. He screamed orders at the
startled thralls and, in less than five minutes, had assembled the
convoy and set off for the camp.

When Ryan finally saw the
compound gates up ahead, he relaxed and eased off the accelerator.
Just then he heard a loud blast and the base of a tree to the side
of the road exploded. Splinters peppered the truck and bounced off
the glass and then the tree began to fall forward and Ryan had to
swerve to avoid it. He wrenched the wheel hard to the right, but
the truck had been going far too fast for such an old road. Too
much dirt and debris had been allowed to gather on the unused road
and the truck’s tyres couldn’t get any grip as its momentum carried
it towards the forest on his right. Ryan lost control completely
when the front tire burst and sent the truck tumbling off the
road.

The thralls in the back of the
truck were thrown violently from side to side in a giant parody of
a washing machine as the vehicle continued to roll through the
light foliage that edged the road and then it suddenly stopped as
it slammed the truck of a thick tree. Screams drowned out the other
explosions as ten more trees along the route exploded and fell onto
the road. Ryan had just enough time to scream before the first tree
crashed down and split the truck in two.

The other trucks stopped when
they saw the lead vehicle veer madly and shoot off the road. Men
poured from the back of the vehicles and spread out to investigate.
Suddenly, there were multiple explosions all around them. They
froze, looking around in confusion at the sudden attack, and raised
their guns to cover the forest as if they expected a horde of
attackers to emerge. Instead, the forest itself seemed to loom
closer toward them. Wood creaked and groaned in protest. Huge
branches swayed dangerously above them before they began to fall.
The trees decimated the entire area. Metal and flesh were crushed
with equal contempt. Their screams were drowned out by the
thunderous cacophony of trees crashing to the ground. The many
broken branches that fanned out across the area impaled any thralls
that were not crushed.

Five minutes after the first
explosion the dust settled on the clearing. The four trucks were
completely demolished and the mangled remains within would sicken
even the strongest stomach. Of the thirty thralls that had been
sent on the mission, two were still alive when night came and the
vampires arrived at the scene. Their pitiful pleas stopped abruptly
when the vampires ripped their throats out and then took to the air
in search of the rebels.

Chapter 9

The murmur of many disparate
conversations filled the air while each group huddled together and
discussed their views animatedly. Harris looked around and noticed
the differences between this and the meetings that had gone before.
The “old group” were still there except of course for Tyrone
Johnson, but now they had a few new members.

Two weeks had passed since they
rescued the group from the compound and, as the serum had worn off,
many of the former prisoners were actively participating in the
running of their little community.

Two weeks, thought Harris. Has
it really been that long?

They had been lucky to escape
the aerial patrols and get everyone here safely and undetected.
Since then there had been so many air and ground patrols that it
had been impossible to do anything but sit tight and wait. Their
food stocks had grown dangerously low and tempers were already
beginning to fray as nearly two hundred complete strangers bounced
off the walls and each other.

If we spend much more time here,
thought Harris, we’ll save the vampires the job and kill each
other.

It hadn’t all been bad, though.
There had been two real finds among the group they had
saved—miracles, if you believed in such things. The first was Pat
Smith, a chemist by trade. Harris had never met a more enthusiastic
and ebullient person in his life. The man was forty-ish with a
balding head and large cheekbones that gave him the appearance of a
chipmunk. He was small in stature and he had jumped at the
opportunity to analyse the blood samples they had obtained.

The second find of major
importance was Father Matthew Reilly. At over six feet in height,
and with a voice like rumbling thunder, Reilly was, quite
literally, a godsend. His stern countenance belied the kind-hearted
man that worked tirelessly to help others cope with the new world
they had woken up to. Reilly had a knack with people and was a good
judge of people so it was left to him to help people find their
place in the community.

Though he worked hard to
integrate people most of the newcomers were quite shell-shocked
when they first came out of the serum’s effects. They were
disoriented and frightened and tended to gravitate into groups
quite quickly. There was safety in numbers and many were happy to
remain anonymous while they found their feet. Those that preferred
to remain quiet and unseen tended to be drawn to those who were
more vocal so it didn’t take much for any strong personalities to
gather an audience. At first these groups had contented themselves
with merely grumbling and complaining that they could run things
better, that they shouldn’t just wait for the thralls and the
vampires to find them and even some who suggested that they should
surrender before the vampires really got annoyed.

As the days had turned to weeks,
however, their grumbling had become more and more vocal as the
number of groups reduced but the membership of those that survived
grew alarmingly as certain personalities grew stronger. Their
grumbling became more insistent as they began to demand that they
be given a voice in the community. In fairness, Harris agreed with
them to a point. The original committee still ran everything in the
community and, while they had done a good job until now, their
abilities may not be the best available for what lay ahead. Some of
the new group’s ideas had indeed been worth listening to but, of
late, many of these groups seemed to be arguing more for the sake
of it than to actually improve things and these arguments were
becoming more and more heated.

Fights had already broken out
between some of the different groups that jostled for power. In
fact, the Cave had been very close to civil war when Father Matthew
Reilly had been forced to stamp his authority in the community.

Vince Crockett, a retired army
captain and leader of the strongest of these groups, had stepped
into the main hall with five others, all of whom were armed. Guns
were a part of life now, but, while it was not unusual to see guns
being carried between rooms, no one walked around armed in the
general living quarters, there were too many children around and it
had become an unwritten rule. Most people didn’t realise what was
happening at first and ignored the group as they went about their
business. In fact, it wasn’t until Crockett fired a shot into the
ceiling that the reality hit home. The sound of the gunfire had the
desired effect and the crowd in the main hall took them very
seriously indeed after that. Crockett proceeded to outline his plan
for how the community should be run, and the crowd grew in a steady
stream as word spread.

Harrington arrived and, over the
next hour, a debate raged between the Cave’s more vocal
inhabitants. Evidently, Crockett’s group was not the only one which
wanted to be part of the ruling council, and the arguments became
more heated on all sides in the impromptu debate. The fact that
Crockett was armed was soon forgotten as everyone dived in to
debate his or her views.

The noise level continued to
rise steadily until, finally, people were shouting questions at
each other across the room. No-one seemed to be prepared to listen
to any of the answers that might have been offered and the scene
degenerated from there.

Then one voice rang out with
such volume and authority that all the groups were shocked into
silence.

“Look at you!” Reilly had begun.
He did not shout, yet his strong voice easily carried to every
person in the hall. “In less than two weeks we have already turned
an incredible victory into an embarrassing defeat. Who needs the
vampires? We are quite capable of destroying what could be the last
of humanity all by ourselves.”

Most people suddenly found the
floor to be of extreme interest as Reilly’s words penetrated the
fog of hatred. Few could find it in themselves to look him or their
colleagues in the eyes.

“And you, Vincent Crockett, what
are you going to do with those?” Reilly waved contemptuously at the
weapons. “We have one chance left. Are we going to squander it on
petty jealousy and power plays, or are we going to prove that we’re
worthy of that chance? God gave you all two ears and one mouth. Use
them in that proportion. You know where to find me when you
decide.”

With that Father Reilly simply
turned and walked out of the hall. The auditorium was deathly
quiet. After a while the debate resumed tentatively. Crockett and
his group laid down their weapons. Each side spoke in turn and
began to listen to the other’s views being expressed. From that
debate had emerged this new committee that more fully represented
the many viewpoints within their little community. It wasn’t
perfect but at least it was a start.

The present conversations wound
down and Harris” quiet reflections ended when Dan Harrington rose
and called the day’s meeting to order.

“Friends,” he began, “we have
much to discuss, so let’s get down to it. It’s been two weeks since
the raid. Peter, can you fill us in on what’s been happening
topside?”

Harris had been voted
unanimously to head up external excursions because of the success
of his previous outings. He felt a little nervous now that he had
to speak with so many new faces around the table. There were so
many of these people that he didn’t know. He wasn’t certain who
could be counted on for support and who he would have to be careful
of. Were there still personal agendas being played out in this
committee or was everyone prepared to work together for the greater
good? He would have to feel his way and hope for the best. He
sighed, took a deep breath and began.

“Patrols have been pretty
constant over the last few days. Thralls search during the day and
vampires by night. They’re throwing everything they have at it,
blanketing whole sectors and searching everywhere. They have
already searched this area twice so there is no guarantee that they
won’t be back but it looks as though the decision to stay out of
the floors above was a good one,” he nodded towards Vince Crockett
who had insisted on that point. “One good thing, though, there does
seem to be a window--we can move about during the two-hour period
each side of dawn. The vampires tend to stay near their nests after
five or so in case they get delayed and the dawn comes early. The
thralls start to become sloppy as their shifts come to an end and
the vampires bed down for the day.” Harris laughed, “It seems their
commitment to their jobs only lasts as long as the vampires are
around and they tend to disappear as well right after dawn. Some of
them remain on patrol of course, just in case, but it’s a skeleton
cover. Bottom line is that if we have to go out in force and get
back undetected, then we can, as long as we stick to the
timetable.”