Something of the Night (28 page)

BOOK: Something of the Night
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“Which way now?” Rebecca
asked.

Scratch stood for a second,
undecided. Then he trotted over to the left-hand side and joined the back of a
long queue. Rebecca followed him. Together, they filtered through the tight
tunnel, shuffling forward, yard by yard, until breaking free at the other end.
They spilled into a massive cavern. Fleets of vehicles were lined up on either
side of it, some already packed full of people or possessions. The air had
turned acrid with the fog of exhaust fumes.

An entire platoon of soldiers
waited at the centre of the cave, ready to ascend to the surface and offer
cover for the fleeing transports. More people filed in behind Rebecca and the
mutt, and eventually they were pushed towards the centre of the cavern.

“Little girl, what are you
waiting for?”

She turned to find a bearded
man standing over her. He was dressed in faded army fatigues and had a
clipboard in the crook of his arm. “Go to the truck over there,” he ordered,
and pointed to a rusty old wagon. The rear of the wagon was already overflowing
with people.

Rebecca scooped Scratch up.
Then headed towards the truck. She took three or four steps only when she felt
the whole cavern begin to tremble. She screamed and dropped to her knees.
Thunder sounded above her head. She looked up and saw a huge chunk of ceiling
break free. It split into a large square section before dropping slowly to the
floor. Giant pistons hissed with compressed air as the platform sank towards
her. Rebecca felt a powerful breeze blow over them, which wiped her hair
crazily about her shoulders.

The enormous slab of rock
continued to descend and, as it reached midway, Rebecca saw something dark and
deadly perched on top. Wings fluttered above its huge head, and she realised
that they were the cause of the thunderous noise. Two black eyes stared down at
her. She gasped when a face in each looked back at her. Most of the people
inside the cavern had pushed themselves as far away as possible or taken refuge
inside the vehicles.

A platoon of soldiers staggered
away. They dropped to their knees, the downwash from the helicopter forcing
them back. Major Patterson stepped forward, pulling his pistol from its
holster. He aimed it directly at the pilot’s head. He watched as the pilot’s
gloved hand reached up, and within seconds the rotor-blades began to slow. The
thunder lessened quickly to a steady whir. Regaining their balance, the line of
soldiers aimed their weapons at the dark monstrosity before them.

The loading platform touched
down. Hundreds of eyes looked upon the Huey, fear clearly present in all of
them. Apart from the whir of rotor-blades, the cavern had become silent. An
uneasy moment dragged out.

Then, with casual ease,
somebody stepped out from the rear cabin.

Scratch broke the silence as
he scrabbled out of Rebecca’s arms. He scampered over to the newcomer.
YAP
!
YAP
!
He barked as he raced towards the figure.

“Hey, boy!” Rebecca yelled
after him.

The mutt jumped into the
figure’s arms. He licked eagerly at a ruddy face, and his tail wagged so fast
he was in danger of taking off.

“Squirrel,” the Major
breathed. He took a step closer and the mechanic grinned nervously. Patterson
turned back to his soldiers. “Stand down,” he ordered. One by one, weapons
dropped away.

Squirrel endured the dog’s
overeager affections for a second longer, then lowered Scratch to the floor.
There, the mutt sat on his haunches, his tail working overtime and his tongue
panting out an enthusiastic grin.

“Good boy,” Squirrel said.

Woof. Woof
.

Someone else stepped out of
the Huey, and Patterson recognised Alice Hammond instantly. He waited eagerly,
expecting Jacob Cain to appear next.

He did not.

Instead, a woman climbed from
the helicopter. The rotors above blew her auburn hair about her head like spun
threads of gold. She looked around her. She appeared unfazed by the
unbelievable sight of the huge cavern and the remnants of the human race
assembled there. Her heart-shaped face turned towards the line of soldiers.

The Major’s legs almost
buckled. Squirrel stepped forwards, ready to help, but the old soldier waved
him away. In a daze, the Major moved closer. He found himself face to face with
something that he could never have prepared for. No matter how much time he was
given.

“Hannah …”

“Father …”

They fell into each other’s
arms, and for the longest moment the chaos around them ceased to exist.

 

Chapter
Forty-Four

 

 

Jacob Cain crouched low. The timber rolled from his
arms. He quickly scanned through the pile and took hold of the largest log. It
felt hefty in his hands. He stood and waited. The highway beckoned
tantalisingly close, but the majority of the wolf pack had blocked off that
direct route, trapping them behind a wall of sharp fangs.

“DOWN!” Jacob yelled, as the
first attack came. They hit the deck and the wolf flew over. Its skull cracked
as it slammed against a tree. It fell to the bush and twisted and thrashed,
then lay still. More shapes swelled between the trees, which blocked any chance
of escape. They climbed to their feet before heading back in the other
direction. Jacob tried to lead them closer to the highway, but the dark menace
forced them further into the woods. We’re being herded deeper and deeper, Jacob
thought suddenly. He pulled Pet to a halt, reluctant to go any further.

The pack closed in. All
escape routes blocked off. Their rank scent forced Jacob’s mind to draw up
pictures of death and decay. Sores festering with maggots were plain to see,
and some of the wolves looked as if their hindquarters had been gnawed at or
chewed on by something that had been driven beyond starvation.

The tracker held the log out
before him. He swung it in a tight arc in the hope of keeping the wolves at
bay. It worked for a second. Most of the horde stopped, unwilling to bear the
brunt of hard timber. A broken leg now would almost certainly mean the
difference between life and death. Nevertheless, hunger pushed them on and it
wasn’t long before the next attack came.

In an uncanny example of
coordination, two beasts lunged in, both sets of jaws aimed at the tracker’s
legs. Jacob managed to halt one as the timber shattered against the wolf’s
skull. The one at his rear found its mark. He felt material tear at his thigh.  With
a violent tug, the wolf pulled Jacob off his feet. His club fell uselessly into
the mud. Jacob rolled onto his back and found jaws above him, dripping with saliva.

This is it, the end of the
road, he thought, as the beast readied for its attack. He threw one hand over
his face, in an attempt to protect himself. Out of the darkness, another shape
filled in his field of vision. It was huge and grey, and in the next instant
the wolf on his chest was gone. The tracker heard an agonising cry.

Jacob sat up and found the
huge grey wolf before him. Its jaws burst with hot blood as it tore the other
beast’s throat away. More shadows appeared all around him. A second pack of
wolves entered the fray. They bounded forwards, jaws open wide and at the
ready. Jacob watched in amazement as three bolted past Pet, ignoring him
completely, and then struck at the weaker horde.

Jacob tore across open ground
to grab Pet’s arm – roughly – and pulled him quickly away from the carnage
around them.

“Wait,” Pet mumbled, drawing
them to an abrupt halt. “There,” he said, and pointed to the undergrowth.

A pile of dropped timber lay
half scattered in the scrub. Quickly, they retrieved as much as they could.
Then, with arms laden, they raced down the hill and broke through the trees.
They stopped, the tracker drawing in deep breaths. Jacob turned back to the
dark, foreboding trees. How the hell did they find us? He remembered the
shadows that had followed from
Fort
Collins
to Glen Eagle, and realised
that a force he could neither explain nor comprehend was driving the horde. A
deeper mystery than anything he had encountered before. He heard a long howl
and understood at once what it meant. Triumph. The grey wolf and its brethren
had defeated the other pack. Jacob had a second to remain both confused and
grateful before a different sort of bark commanded his attention.

“You two,” Balack growled.
“Where have you been?”

Jacob opened his mouth, ready
to tell him to go to hell, but the look of anger on the other’s face silenced
any remark.

“What are you waiting for?
Let’s go,” Balack ordered.

The vampire captain headed
back towards the Airstreamer. Balack ordered Jacob and Pet to drop the wood
into two piles. After a couple of minutes, two bright bonfires burned, one
either side of the sealed doorway.

Now exhausted, Jacob leaned
against the chrome of the trailer. Heat beat at his face as the fires began to
crackle and spit. With a creak of suspension, the trailer groaned as something
heavy moved about inside. The door at Jacob’s side opened outwards and a dark
shadow filled the gap. Huge boots stepped down from the trailer and onto the
side of the highway.

Thalamus climbed down from
the Airstreamer. He stretched. Then rolled his head around in an attempt to
work the stiffness out of his broad shoulders. As he did, his long dreadlocks
jangled with the sound of bones rubbing against each other. He stepped further away
from the trailer to draw alongside Captain Balack. Even the captain looked tiny
in comparison. The giant vampire looked from one fire to the next. He nodded as
if in appreciation, although his flesh would not have felt the warmth
generated, nor his spirit solace from the light. He stood motionless for a
second until something from behind demanded his attention. “You,” he said. “Who
are you?”

Jacob pulled away from the
smooth chrome. “I’m one of the new techs,” he replied.

Thalamus turned to Balack.
“Your leadership is lacking. Ezekiel will not be pleased to find mere drones
lying around with nothing to do.”

“They brought wood,” Balack
responded quickly. “For the fires, as my master ordered. So the wolves stay
away from the command centre.” Balack remembered the fate of the last group of
techs; the ones who had allowed a lone wolf get within striking distance of
Ezekiel’s young boy. He shuddered. He hoped not to share the same fate as them.

Thalamus’s dark face turned
to Jacob and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “If your work is done, then why do
you linger?”

Jacob drew in a deep breath.
“Just catching a breath,” he said, then wiped at his brow.

The dark giant looked back
silently. Thalamus frowned. Something the tech had just said and done set alarm
bells ringing. The tech grinned back at him, nervously, and its canines
reflected two slivers of firelight. What was it? Thalamus thought. He stepped
closer, and his shadow engulfed the smaller soldier. With a lack of formality
the tech leaned back against the trailer and slipped both his hands into the
pockets of his jacket. The act of insubordination ignited Thalamus’s anger.
“Stand to attention,” he ordered.

Jacob did just that. But his
hands clenched around two grenades. Hidden from view, his fingers turned both
timers down to their lowest limit. Then, carefully, he threaded his fingers
through the detonation-pins and waited. The giant vampire drew near. One of its
dark hands reached out. Jacob reared back, but the sheer length of the
vampire’s arm caught him easily. Two fingers ran across the tracker’s cheek.
They came away damp.

Thalamus looked at his
fingertips and his broad brow creased with confusion.

Jacob was confused by the
vampire’s strange behaviour for a second. Then, with a sickening dread, he understood
what had interested the vampire.

Sweat.

A fine film of sweat had
covered his face in a damp sheen. Jacob looked quickly from Thalamus to Balack
and then to Pet. For, although they were closer to the flames than he, none of
them showed any signs of perspiration, or the effects of an increase in
temperature. The giant vampire’s face was a smooth, dry mask of ebony, while
both Pet and Balack had faces that were almost as white as the bones that hung
from the giant’s dreadlocks. Vampires were incapable of feeling the differences
in temperature, thus unable to sweat!

In the next instant, Thalamus
understood the significance of his find. His eyes widened and his mouth opened.

Time ground to a halt.

Jacob seemed to have an
eternity to pull both pins free. He watched as the giant reached out with a
massive hand, ready to crush the life out of him. The tracker ducked and rolled
underneath the attack. Two grenades appeared in his hands. And then,
incredibly, the leader of the vampires appeared at the opening to the command
centre.

Ezekiel.

His broad shoulders seemed to
fill the doorway, but his head missed the top by almost a foot. He pushed his
wire-rimmed glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. He looked no more
menacing than a middle-aged scholar. His other hand seemed to trail behind him
as if he were using it to usher someone or something out of the trailer. Behind
the lenses, his brown, intelligent eyes seemed to widen as the unexpected scene
played out before him.

Automatically, Jacob’s arms
reared back, ready to launch both grenades at the bastard before him. He felt
his shoulders tense as he prepared to let fly.

Suddenly, Ezekiel’s cohort
appeared.

Ezekiel’s human shield, a
boy.

The unexpected sight stunned
Jacob’s mind into immobility. It was the appearance of the boy that rocked his
senses - a recognisable profile. It was a face Jacob knew well. His own. The
boy had dark brown hair streaked with a fiery auburn – just like Hannah’s. Two
big eyes blinked, and they were the colour of flint grey threaded with slivers
of green. A fusion of Jacob’s and Hannah’s eyes. It took only a millisecond for
the tracker to understand that the boy before him was, unbelievably,
his
child.

The world spun and time
regained momentum, then raced by with an alarming acceleration. Jacob’s mind
froze instantly. Its last command filtered into his nerves and sinews. And,
with horror, he watched as the two grenades slipped from his hands. They spun
towards the vampire and his boy, and all Jacob could do was watch in horrified
astonishment. He heard someone cry out to his right, a voice he recognised, and
in the next second he felt himself thrown to the ground.

“Jacob, NO!” someone cried.

Too late.

The grenades had already been
released. They spun towards the command centre with deadly intent.

Ezekiel reacted on impulse.
He pushed the boy backwards, into the trailer and to safety, and then he almost
ripped the door off its hinges as he slammed it shut behind them.

The world turned instantly
bright. Jacob felt his hair singe and a wave of immeasurable heat sucked the
breath from out of his lungs. The thing on top of him was blown clear, and from
the corner of his eye he saw it spin violently away, landing where Captain
Balack had been standing a moment earlier. Now, however, the captain was little
more than a frightful memory. Two black boots remained fixed to the floor,
their soles welded solid to the highway. The rest of him was scattered across
the woodlands in a cold drizzle of red rain.

Pet had been blown right
across the highway, and he found himself dazed and surrounded by a mob of
curious looking vampires.

Jacob gasped, his lungs
hitching for air. He watched as a fireball climbed into the dark sky, turning
the clouds above into a boiling orange miasma. Then air rushed in to fill the
void around him. He managed to heave in a lungful of clean air. His senses
returned. Looking over at the hooded figure, he found his nephew lying
unconscious. A dry scab of blood had pooled around him. “Elliot… ” he rasped,
his throat scorched dry.

Elliot’s eyes opened. They
were bloodshot and crimson teardrops leaked from both corners. He tried to pull
himself up, away from the highway, but the red gore had stuck him to the
asphalt. However, trying harder, he managed to prize himself free. He came away
from the highway like an opposing strip of Velcro.

Jacob turned his attention to
the trailer. It had lurched to one side, and the chrome panelling had taken a
direct hit. The side nearest to him was a crumpled mess. The door had buckled
inwards and flames had turned the polished surface into a black smear. He
looked around the highway but found neither his son nor the vampire leader. He
prayed the vampire had had the sense to save his son. He stood on unsteady legs
and then turned to Elliot. The young man offered him a slight wave. Go, it
said, help the boy. Jacob staggered over to the trailer. He pushed his hands
through a crack in the doorframe. Something heavy slammed against him. He felt
heat and strength grip him around the neck, pinning him against the trailer.

“Move an inch, and I’ll crush
you like a bug,” a voice said. The speaker’s breath carried a hint of cooked
meat with it. Jacob was spun roughly around and he found himself eye to eye
with a giant black Frankenstein.

The vampire’s dreadlocks had
melted into his scalp, and a black crest of tar had taken their place. Charred
scales poked from out of a shiny black shell. He peered out from one bleached
eye. The brown of his iris had burnt away. It had now turned almost white. His
other eye was sealed shut by a swollen mass of flesh, which had melted over the
orb in a flap of molten tissue.

“I hope for your sake, human,
that my master lives,” the dark monster warned.

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