Dominant Species (14 page)

‘No
, Voltan, it’s not. Kadir hasn’t got a hope in hell.’

Voltan nodded and said simply,
‘I know that. You know that. But Karick is waiting until Kadir knows it too.’

Drameer’s gaze turned back to the fight. Kadir crouched, watching Karick. Fear had finally replaced the certainty that was once in his eyes. Voltan leaned toward Drameer.

‘You know what? Kadir may be a little slow on the uptake, but I think he’s finally got it.’

Now Karick moved. His face showed no emotion as he closed on Kadir; his hands were a blur
as he hit Kadir with a shower of fearsome blows. Kadir hardly saw them land, but he certainly felt them. He staggered back, crashed down heavily on one knee. His eyes moved to the audience, desperately trying to seek out Rodan, his master. His face was covered in confusion. In the audience, Rodan avoided his stare, although whether it was from guilt or something else was difficult to judge.

‘It could end here if you yield,
’ Karick whispered into Kadir’s ear, throwing him a lifeline.

Kadir heard the words
offered by Karick, but shook his head. Vampire pride had kicked in. He staggered to his feet and opened his hands. He roared once and attacked with all the ferocity he could muster.

Karick struck just one more
time, his hand penetrating Kadir’s chest ripping his very heart from his body. Kadir was toe to toe with Karick. The look of confusion turned to pain before he finally slumped to the ground, dead. Karick turned to the assembled vampires, then to the Queen. He raised Kadir’s heart into the air and screamed as only a vampire could.

Ten minutes later Karick was wiping the remains of Kadir’s blood from his arm as Voltan stared out of the window, dim light flickering across his face. Karick watched him carefully.

‘What concerns you Voltan?’

Voltan turned, lost in thought, ‘Nothing my Lord.’

‘How many centuries have we known each other my friend?’

Voltan smiled, ‘Too many.’

‘So, I’ll ask again. What concerns you?’

Kadir was working for Rodan.

‘Of course
, so?’

‘You know he won’t stop, don’t you?’

Karick joined Voltan discarding the blood soaked cloth on the floor. ‘Do you think that bothers me?’

‘No
…. but I think it should.’

‘Why? I showed strength today, strength is something that vampires understand
, that’s what you said yourself. It will buy us time, if nothing else. You worry too much.’ He slapped Voltan on his back, turned to walk away.

‘Do you think Rodan expected Kadir to win?’

Karick hesitated, and spoke without turning, ‘What do you mean?’

‘Both Rodan and I have seen you fight before. It might have been many years ago, yet...’

Karick turned towards his friend, ‘your point?’

‘Neither of us c
ould have forgotten.’

‘Go on.’

Voltan shrugged, ‘There must be more.’

‘Then we shall
stay vigilant my friend.’

The resistance approached their stronghold, Jake leading the way, still carrying the little girl. Just behind him Megan trailed in silence, her head down. The others followed helping the survivors
when they needed it.

The watchmen waved them in. Trent
was waiting, alone. He watched as Jake and Megan closed, the little girl asleep in Jake’s arms.

Somewhere deep beneath New York City, in a dark corridor, Rodan and Keermit descended a flight of stairs in silence. At the
base there was a corridor, at the end of which there was a doorway, on either side two female vampire guards stood, beautiful but Rodan also knew, even more deadly.

Rodan breathed the stale air
as he walked towards the door at the end of the corridor with Keermit trailing a few steps behind. The two guards moved slightly to one side. Rodan knocked once and a voice, icy cold, came from within.

‘Come.’

Heavy bolts slid back as they entered. Inside Keermit could just make out a reclined figure on a large four-poster bed. Four hand maidens, all vampires, busied themselves as Keermit, her mouth slightly open, knelt, her voice a strangled whisper of admiration.

‘My Queen.’

‘My child.’ The Queen’s eyes flicked to Rodan, then back to Keermit.

‘And for what do I owe this...’ She licked her lips, trying words in her head, a twitch of a snarl as she
spat the next word, ‘...pleasure?’

‘My Queen, are you not pleased to see me?’ queried Rodan, surprised. Rodan was suddenly aware of four pairs of eyes watching his every movement. It was clear
to Keermit, from his caution that they posed a far greater threat than he would care to admit.

‘
I suppose it depends on why you are here,’ whispered the Queen

Still kneeling, Keermit
glanced up at Rodan, then back to the Queen.

‘My Queen we - ’

Rodan silenced her with a sharp slap across her face, the sound echoing in the large, dark room. A trickle of blood ran down Keermit’s cheek as she bowed her head.

‘I said you were not to speak
in the presence of the Queen,’ hissed Rodan, and then he turned to the Queen. ‘I apologize for her impudence, your Highness.’

Keermit’s eyes
stayed focused on the floor. Rodan went to continue but the Queen held up a long, slender finger. She then turned slightly and spoke to Keermit,

‘Rise, my child.’

Rodan was clearly angry, but managed to smile anyway.

‘So my child, what do you
want to say?’ the Queen asked with interest.

Keermit hesitated, but only for a second
before almost spluttering out her words. ‘We can deliver you the rest of the resistance...alive, your highness,’ She spoke the words quickly, fearful of being cut short by Rodan again, but this time his hands did not move as the Queen listened intently, one eyebrow raised.

‘And in return?’

‘Name me as Overlord,’ replied Rodan.

The Queen
glanced back to Rodan.

‘And pray, why would I do that?’

‘Because,’ Keermit answered for him, ‘by doing so, you will avert a vampire war.’

Rodan’s head span toward Keermit but he
controlled his rage and smiled at her instead.

‘Keermit, would you kindly wait outside. Please?’

Keermit’s eyes locked onto the Queen’s for a second. The Queen smiled and then nodded. Keermit bowed and left, a smiled flashed across her face as she heard the Queen’s words behind her as the door closed.

‘Keermit
… such a lovely name.’

Kathryn turned as
she heard the door to her apartment open, her initial smile on seeing Drameer disappeared as soon as she caught the look on his face.

‘What’s wrong?’
she asked.

‘Everything
; Karick was challenged and the Queen has asked Rodan to lead a search and destroy party to find the resistance.’

‘Here, sit. Tell me everything.’

Deep beneath the church in the crypt, Jake sat at the stone tomb, across from Trent and a handful of men. His younger brother was noticeable by his absence.

‘Okay now what?
asked Lano.

‘We’re going to need to prepare for a War
,’ replied Jake, in a matter of fact tone. ‘No human is safe anymore. We’ve finally managed to prove that we’re a threat. Now we’re going to need to fight, just to survive.’

‘What do you have in mind?’ asked Trent in his usual
saw-cut voice.

Lano cleared his throat. Jake pinned him with a stare. Lano’s gaze
faltered, his eyes still black and swollen, dropped to the table. ‘But how can we fight them?’ he mumbled.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. Lano tried
to meet his stare, and failed dismally.

‘Don’t you think it’s a little late to ask that
particular question now?’ he replied softly.

Lano shifted forward, his eyes still lowered.

‘Can’t we hide?’

‘We might have had that choice once, but not
anymore. If Max wanted a fight...well it looks like he’s got one. In fact I think he’s got the mother of them all.’
Jake looked back at the others. Silence weighed heavy in the dank chamber as Jake carefully looked from one face to the other. Out of the corner of his eye he was aware that Trent was scrutinising him and it made him feel uneasy.

Finally Trent broke the silence,
‘I think Jake’s right,’ he growled. ‘So who’s in agreement?’

One by one the hands raised including, in the end, Lano.

‘Okay then I suggest we go get some sleep… we’ll need it.
As the men got up, Trent’s pale blue eyes focused on Jake.

‘Have you got a moment, Son?’

Outside the crypt, Trent and Jake walked side by side in silence. They reached the edge of the graveyard before Trent spoke.

‘What aren’t you telling me, Jake?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Son, I’ve known you for over twenty years now, so don’t try and bull-shit me, okay?’

Jake was clearly stung by Trent’s tone, but closed his eyes and sighed.

‘I’m sorry, Sir. Look, the vampire’s won’t rest until we’re all dead.’

‘I know… you said so.’ He paused, ‘and you know this for certain, because?’

Jake
suddenly felt exhausted, nodding he pulled a piece of blood stained and dog-eared paper from out of his pocket. ‘This was pinned to one of the bodies in the Naval Yard… he hesitated, to Eddy’s body.’ He forced an image of Eddie, burnt torn in two and twisted from his mind and handed the piece of paper to Trent who unfolded it carefully.

Trent stared straight at Jake, ‘and you didn’t think to tell the others?’

Jake took the paper back from Trent’s hand and slowly shook his head.

‘Why, what difference would it make? They want us nailed to a cross, end of story.’ He carefully folded the paper
and replaced it into his pocket. ‘Thanks to Max, there’s no way back now.’

Trent stared straight into Jake’s eyes, his blue eyes burning brightly. ‘So what do you have in mind?’

‘I don’t know. But one thing’s for sure, if we do nothing…’ He looked across the graveyard. ‘...We have no chance at all.’

Trent nodded. ‘There is one last thing then.’

Jake waited.

‘If we’re going to fight
, we’re going to need everyone.’ Jake went to turn away but Trent grabbed his arm, hard. ‘And I mean everyone,’ he finished, ‘I think now is the time to deal with it, Son, don’t you?’

Kathryn slid along Madison Avenue as quietly as she could, the
air seemed even colder than normal and her breath was clearly visible in front of her. There were only a few people around and so she made good progress. She stopped near the old derelict Starbucks, just down from St. Patrick’s church on the opposite side of the street, the glass front now missing, but the proud green sign still jutted out defiantly.

She
looked across the road towards the old church. She thought she heard a noise and froze, holding her breath. She glanced round, but there was nothing, only a heavy silence and the sound of her own heart thumping in her chest. A light, cold breeze caressed her face, and then it was suddenly replaced by a gloved hand. She could smell the old leather that stopped her from crying out. Her eyes widened in fear.

‘It’s okay Kathryn, it’s me,’ w
hispered Father Matthew urgently in her ear, ‘what are you doing way down here?’

Kathryn relaxed as Father Matthew
slowly removed his hand.

‘Thank the Lord Father
,’ gasped Kathryn as the hand was withdrawn.

‘I do, daily, Kath
ryn, I do daily. Now, what is it my child?’

‘I need to speak to you. Something terrible is going to happen.’

Father Matthew frowned, then without another word he quickly glanced both ways and guided her across the street and up the wide steps that led into the heart of St. Patrick’s church.

Inside he led her towards a small vestibule near the back.
The air was warm and there was the scent of incense burning somewhere at the back of the building. Candles burned on both sides of the church, bringing an immediate sense of calm. On one wall hung a large image of a crucified Jesus, head tilted seemingly observing all that went on below.

Rows of chairs
were set up to act as makeshift pews. At the end was a stone carved pulpit; on it an old bible lay open. Kathryn’s eyes scanned the magnificent church, realising how long it had been since she’d attended a service.

‘It’s a long time since you’ve been here isn’t it, Kathryn?’
said Father Matthew as if reading her mind.

Kathryn smiled
awkwardly, a brief flush coming to her face, ‘Drameer doesn’t…’ She paused, looked down.

Father Matthew smiled, ‘don’t worry. It’s what you believe inside that
truly matters. Here take a seat.’

Kathryn took a seat in the second row as Father Matthew sat in the row in front, facing her.

‘So what can I do for you?’

‘The resistance have killed Lord Tolon.’

Father Matthew nodded, ‘I heard.’

Kathryn looked uneasy
, suddenly unsure whether she should have come, now feeling silly, wondering what good it could possible do in telling Father Matthew.

As if sensing her
hesitation, Father Matthew took her hand in his. ‘What is it he asked, what can I do to help?’

‘Drameer says the Queen has demanded revenge.’

‘I see. You know there hasn’t been a vampire death for…’ He thought for a second. ‘How old are you Kathryn?’

‘Twenty-four. Why?’

Father Matthew smiled, ‘Never mind. It’s just that I am an old man, who has seen far too much. The last time a vampire was killed was over twenty years ago. There was…’ He paused and took Kathryn’s other hand in his. Then he looked into her eyes, ‘let’s just say that it caused some terrible repercussions. But Overlord Karick, with the help of your very own Drameer, has brought us stability; some measure of reform.’ He stopped as he caught the look in Kathryn’s eyes. ‘My child,’ he said hesitantly. ‘What I’m trying to say is that things have changed, the vampires have changed, learnt to be more tolerant, look at Drameer…’

Kathryn, tears now in her eyes, shook her head.

‘Drameer is the exception that proves the rule, nothing more.’

Father Matthew squeezed her hand; his face had now become serious. ‘Kathryn, what do you know?’

‘It’s Rodan. He’s preparing a Vampire war party to find, capture, or kill every human left outside the settlement. He’s acting on the Queen’s direct orders.’

Father Matthew hesitated, unable to stop his eyes flicking to
ward the church entrance, nor his mind from thinking of the beast she spoke of that resided in the New York Palace that sat just across the street. He continued to speak, but this time in barely more than a whisper, as if Rodan could actually hear them from there.

‘When?’
he asked.

‘They leave the day after tomorrow.’

‘Are you... Is Drameer sure?’

Kathryn nodded.

Max sat in near total darkness as he slowly removed the bandage from his arm, the gauze sticking and pulling at his skin. He stared at the dark red welt and beneath that the two, clear, puncture marks. The wound seemed to froth. He winced as a stomach cramp doubled him up.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and his
head jerked up, a startled look on his face. He stared at the door, his eyes manic, for twenty long seconds. Then breathing deeply he fumbled with the bandage, finished tying it with his teeth and quickly rolled down his sleeve.

The knock came again.

‘Hold on,’ he called.

Outside, Jake hesitated then
Max opened the door.

I
n Rodan’s suite on the fifteenth floor of the New York Palace he and Keermit sat in silence, waiting. As if on cue the door opened and Zidtool entered; the trademark lopsided grin ever present on his face.

‘Zidtool, how nice of you to join us.’

Zidtool took a bow. It was an action that didn’t really work as he clearly didn’t mean it, ‘Master.’

‘How do the plans proceed?’ asked Rodan greedily.

‘Very well my lord. We have assembled the …’

‘
… And you will be able to find them? Cut in Rodan before Zidtool could finish.

Zidtool
smiled watching Rodan carefully then flicked a look at Keermit as he considered the question. Then he licked his lips in what seemed like anticipation, ‘oh yes, without a doubt.’

Rodan nodded, pleased. ‘I have faith in you my friend. Don’t let me down.’

‘Oh don’t worry, I won’t…’ His eyes seemed to glaze slightly and the smile retuned, ‘It’s personal now.’

Rodan frowned,
unsure as to what Zidtool meant, then thinking better than to ask continued a little more hesitantly. ‘There is one other thing, another stroke of luck.’

After Kathryn had been sent on her way, with a promise that he would
deal with matters, Father Matthew had sat in his church contemplating what to do next. He had come to the plan fairly quickly and had then knelt in front of the crucifix in prayer for some time.

An hour after Kathryn had gone
Father Matthew left the church at the north side, then travelled completely around the church, before cutting across and back into Madison Avenue a block further down. He moved from shadow to shadow, crouching low, before realising that he was drawing more attention to himself than if he just strolled down the street. He darted behind a vampire guard who stood near the side entrance to the New York Palace with his back to him across the street. The vampire turned a fraction too late to see the figure as it pulled into the doorway of a derelict building. Father Matthew caught his breath, pressed himself hard against the wall with his eyes tight shut. He heard a sound and fell back further into the disused building. He watched from out of the darkness as two of Karick’s vampires marched past. He swallowed hard. He knew what he had to do and hated the thought.

Outside Max’s room
in Brooklyn, Jake stood in an uncomfortable silence, neither Brother able to look at each other.

After an
awkward silence, Max stepped away from the doorway and ambled back into his room. ‘What’s on your mind Jake?’ he asked over his shoulder.

Jake looked at his Brother
, a slight frown on his face. ‘You haven’t called me by my name in years.’ He entered the room and crossed to stand in front of Max. Max looked up at his older Brother. Jake felt bad about the bruises.

‘There’s a lot I haven’t said for years, and a lot
that I have, that I probably shouldn’t have.’

A flicker of a smile crossed Jake’s face as he nodded. ‘Do you remember when Mom used to tell us off, for fighting?’

Now it was Max’s turn to nod. ‘Sort of, you know sometimes I wake up in the night really scared, because I can’t remember what she looked like, it all seems like some sort of bad dream.

Jake noticed that Max looked
tired; no it was more than that, exhausted.

‘
I’m not always sure of what’s true, and what’s not, it seems such a long time ago sometimes. He paused, seemed to hesitate, ‘Jake?’ he asked, and his voice was different, more like that of the little boy that Jake had saved over twenty years before.

‘Yes.’

‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Me first, please.
’ The two Brothers looked at each other. Then, unable to look Max in the eye Jake turned away before he spoke next.

‘All these years I’ve lived with the guilt, knowing that my actions caused…’ He stopped search
ing for the right words. ‘Knowing the pain I’ve caused you…’

‘
…Stop, Jake, please I - ’

Jake held up his hand, silencing his Brother. ‘I’ve seen your pain
, Max; I just didn’t know what to do, what to say, or how to make it go away. I’m sorry. I know how much you blame me for what happened to Mom and Dad.’

‘I
don’t blame you for what happened to them.’ Max spoke quietly, but his voice was strong. Unseen by Max a flicker of confusion flashed across Jake’s face, ‘I may not have understood at the time, but I did understand as I grew older.’ Max pushed on, Jake’s back still to him ‘…I understood that we had no choice…that we’d been chosen as a gift for a vampire. That we were to become his property, I’d heard the rumours, even at the age I was then and although I might not have fully understood, I knew it was bad.’

Jake turned
toward him now, a frown still on his face, ‘then why do you hate me?’

‘
I don’t…If I blame you for anything; it’s only for not finishing what you started.’

‘What do you mean?’
stammered Jake.

‘Max laced his fingers, took a deep breath.’

‘After what happened and we ran away, you promised you’d look after me.’

‘But I was only - ’

‘- Doesn’t matter, you promised. You promised you wouldn’t let them hurt me; that you’d make a stand, make them pay for what they had done.’ Max now stood eye-to-eye with his brother; and Jake noted that his Brother’s eyes were full of tears.

‘But you didn’t. You just gave up.’

‘But Mom and Dad…’

‘
…What about them? You promised something all those years ago, promised something that you just didn’t deliver. That...’ Max swallowed, looked deep into his brother’s eyes, but Jake noticed for the first time in close to twenty years that the look held absolutely no malice.

When
Max spoke again his voice was full of compassion. ‘That...that made their deaths...seem worthless somehow,’ a small bead of Sweat trickled down Max’s forehead. ‘I learned that we all have to make choices, Jake. And every choice has a consequence. What makes a difference is how you deal with those consequences.’

Jake stood absolutely still,
completely shell-shocked. ‘Max...I…’

Max shook his head. ‘You were always the strong one
Jake, always. Now will you make me one more promise?’

‘Anything.’

‘Will you promise me now that no matter what…that you will fight for what you truly believe, what’s right and that, if you need to, you’ll fight to the very end, regardless of the consequence? Will you promise me that?’

‘I promise.’ Jake whispered
without delay, his voice cracking.

Max held out his hand and Jake took it, then for the first time in nearly twenty years he pulled his brother close and hugged him. Unseen by Jake, Max winc
ed as another stomach cramp hit home, hard.

Outside, a high pitched whistle pierced the air as a watchman spotted a lone figure walking up the street. He grabbed his binoculars, focused on the lone figure and felt his eyes were playing tricks when he saw a Priest.

Later
, deep underneath a very different church, Father Matthew sat in the crypt with a blanket around his shoulders and a dented tin mug of thick, bitter coffee in his hand. Around the table, Jake, Trent and Lano watched him intently.

‘Are you any warmer now?
’ asked Trent.