Read The Division of the Damned Online
Authors: Richard Rhys Jones
Immediately Von Struck reached for his pistol and scanned the way ahead for Russians.
"No, above us.
It’s the vampires," called Grand.
He looked up to see the silhouettes of the
c
ount’s soldiers jetting through the treetops. There seemed to be no end of them and Von Struck felt a trickle of cold sweat run down his back as he watched their soundless parade.
"I don’t know about you, b
oss, but I shit myself more and mor
e every time I see those things,
" Rohleder whispered. They came to a stop to watch them stream by. Nobody moved or uttered a word until they had passed.
"I’m glad they’re on our side," Gruhn said to nobody in particular as the last of them passed out of sight.
"I’m not even glad about that," Rohleder answered him.
"They’re not on anybody’s side. They’ve got their own agenda. The more I see of what happened to Muntner, the more I doubt the wisdom of having any dealings with them at all,” Von Struck whispered to them all.
"Amen to that," Rohleder agreed.
* * *
Arak didn’t always like to lead from the front but tonight he was hungry. He hadn’t tasted blood in days but he knew that on this night he would slake his thirst. The vampires were strict on the issue of who fed and when, and Arak, who had devised a rotation plan for the lean times, stuck to the system as closely as his men.
However, tonight there would be rich pickings for all and there would be no waiting hungry on the side as his men took their fill.
Tonight they would all feed.
The target was a regiment of Siberian infantry based temporarily in a low valley east of their hide. They had been spotted by one of Arak’s scout groups and now their time had come. After tonight the regiment would no longer exist.
They arrowed throug
h the tree
tops like silent rockets and passed over the Germans on their agitated mounts. Arak saw Von Struck’s men in the dark as a trace of hot arteries all flowing to the pumping muscle of a heart. He could hear their collective pulse and smell their loathing for him and his kind. He smiled to himself as he passed over, knowing that soon they would not need the humans and he would be free to do with them as he pleased.
Shortly the ground fell away and the valley loomed out in front of them. They swooped down through the branches and onto the first of the sentries, slashing them with their long blades. The vampires pounced on them like starving pigs to the swill and in seconds the guards were noiselessly slaughtered. They fell on the encampment like a black rain and they took their first victims virtually simultaneously.
Swords held at the ready, they moved through the fir trees like avenging demons, snatching the terrorized Russians at will.
Arak made directly for the regimental commander’s tent. The Russian infantry were nearly all peasant farmer boys who were as familiar with the supernatural as their city dwelling comrades were with cars or electricity. Their superstitious background made them excellent prey for his men and their unbridled fear paralysed their limbs and sweetened the blood.
The Commander rushed out of his tent and straight into the stinging caress of Arak’s sword. He clutched the blade at the entry wound and sank wordlessly to his knees, eyes wide in fear and incredulity. Arak pulled the blade and let it fall to the ground in his eagerness to gorge himself on his quarry. He swatted the ineffectual flailing of the Russian and opened his neck up with one swipe of his talons. The blood spurted and he knelt down to gobble greedily at the opened gash.
A while later, Arak moved through his men as they fed, wiping the juice of the regimental commander off his chin.
No words of acknowledgment were spoken to him. First they would feed and only then could he restore order and discipline.
The feasting over, his soldiers sated, Arak gave the order to dismember the corpses. This was not normally the vampire way but he wanted to spread terror among Ivan’s rank and file and what better way to do that than wanton carnage?
* * *
The mission was unsuccessful and Von struck started to resign himself to a long stay at the quarry. The stars made the going a lot easier and the squad were in high spirits as they walked the last couple of hundred yards to the hide.
Henning was waiting for them. He looked perturbed and Von Struck knew automatically that something was wrong.
They crowded around and Henning started straight in. "Boss, something’s happened. There’s been no enemy movement and all was quiet. Muschi stood first stag on guard, so I helped the women to sort the camp out.” He stopped to look at Rohleder and then carried on. "I’m not sure what happened bu
t I heard the boy screaming and
—
”
"What, is he alright? Where is he?”” Rohleder cut in.
"He’s fine, he’s with his mother. He went into th
e mine about an hour after the c
ount’s men came back, don’t ask me why, and the next I know he’s screaming and hysterical. Like I said, he’s with his mother but he’s very pale and he’s not saying a word.”
Rohleder wordlessly strode off. Henning looked to Von Struck and briefly raised his eyebrows in a facial shrug.
Rohleder found them both in the undergrowth. She was sitting on a blanket. The boy lay with his head on her lap. She crooned softly to him while stroking his head. He felt like an intruder and was tempted to turn away but she saw him and smiled.
"Is he alright?” It was lame but it was all he could think of. She was pretty, young and slim, but the well-defined knot of muscle in her bare arms and the dark patches under her eyes told the story of hardship and toil. Over the last few weeks he had felt inadequate and self-effacing when they had spoken, but as he concentrated on the boy’s pallor and appearance, for once his scarring seemed to be at the back of his mind. He approached them both and knelt down to study him better. He was pale but there was no blood or marks to be seen so he didn’t think he’d been bitten.
"Are you alright, little man?” He reached a hand forward and laid it on his shoulder. "Tell me what happened.”
The boy stayed silent, Rohleder looked up to his mother. It was then that he noticed she was crying.
"Should I go?" he asked.
She shook her head and roughly wiped a tear away.
"No, stay here."
She looked up and added, "Please.”
Rohleder nodded and, without a thought for his own perceived unsightliness, he reached to her and stroked her hair.
"Don’t cry. He needs you to be strong.”
She sniffled loudly and nodded. Her acceptance of the gesture seemed natural and appropriate, and as he let his hand fall away, he realised that she was the first woman he had touched since his wife had left him an aeon ago.
Unexpectedly, Paul turned briefly to look at Rohleder and turned away again. Without looking at him, he asked, "Are they Russians, those men in the mines, are they Russians?”
"No, they’re on our side." He wanted to say more, to reassure him, but he couldn’t find anything to say. There was nothing to say because he didn’t like what was in the mine either.
"But they’re not German, are they?" he asked, and then pleading "Are they?”
"I don’t know what they are but they’re on our side and they won’t harm you, I promise you that.”
She looked up and into his eyes. Rohleder inwardly shrank from her gaze but forced himself to look back at her. Shocked, he saw she was smiling at him. A barrage of emotions assaulted him from all sides and for the second time in the space of a month he felt the sharp prickle of tears welling up.
"My name is Stephanie.”
"I know, Paul told me." He averted his eyes back down to the boy
and
blinked his smarting eyes. "I’m
—
”
"Michael,” she finished for him. "Paul told me too. He’s told me a lot about you. Where do come from?”
"Hanover, well Langenhagen really, but my last address was in the city itself, not far from the Steintor part of town, so I was in the nicer area." Steintor was the infamous red light district in Hanover and he smiled to emphasise that he was joking.
She laughed back at him and Rohleder was suddenly aware that here was an attractive young lady actually smiling at him and sharing a joke. Is she seeing through the scars and really looking at me
?
he
dared to hope. Henning shouted his name and Rohleder turned to go
"We’ve got to sort out the sentry rota for tonight and I don’t want to get the graveyard shift again.”
She nodded and looked down to Paul. He took it as his leave to go, pausing as she looked back up at him again. "If you want, you can eat with us tonight. That’s only if you want to, that is." She was smiling at him again and Rohleder’s heart did a flip.
"I’d love to. No, better still, I’d be honoured." He nodded, smiled and left them alone.
"What happened?" Henning asked.
"The boy went in to the mine. He’s ok but he had a shock. Remember how terrified we were when
we saw the c
ount’s men for the first time? Multiply that by about a thousand and that’s what the kid’s going through now.”
"You can say what you want, those ghouls are evil. They shouldn’t be on our side. We’re the good guys!" It was Muschinski.
Henning laughed. "If we’re the good guys, why is the whole world against us?”
"Are you trying to tell me that the Ruskies are the good guys?”
"No
, but we’re no better than them
—
”
"And they’re no better than us." Muschinski squared up to Henning, who now looked puzzled as to his intent.
They froze in this position until Rohleder broke in. "Come, on boys, we don’t fight among ourselves. It’s a shit war and the bastards who started it are sitting on their fat arses laughing at us, laughing at us stupid bastards while we suck the shitty end of the stick. The last thing we need is to start beating each other up." He looked to the two of them. Henning, who hadn’t taken Muschinski’s challenge seriously anyway, shrugged and held out his hand. Muschinski smiled sheepishly at Henning and took his shovel-like hand in his.
"Sorry, Wolfgang, I don’t know why I get so worked up about it. It’s all a load of bollocks
anyway,
I just want it to end. I hate being the bad guy. Even the Wehrmacht hate us and some of them are just as psychotic as the SS.”
"I know
.
" Henning nodded. "But when Ivan starts getting tough, they always scream for the SS to sort it out for them. Don’t take it to heart, Muschi, it’s not worth it. We all fucked up joining the SS in the first place, so accept it and just be grateful you’re in a troop of like-minded Party dropouts.”
Muschinski sniggered. "There’s no way the
y’d let him in the Party anyway." H
e nodded towards Rohleder.
"Too ugly for the shining National Socialists.”
"But a rabid Party hardliner if ever there was one," Henning rejoined.
"Oh well done, Laurel and Hardy.
Hilarious
.
”
Rohleder grinned. "Now that you two drama queens have sorted out who the good guys are, I need to know something. Henning, do the vampi
res see the civilians as German?” H
e paused to incline his head to Muschinski and sarcastically smiled
. “A
nd therefore as friendlies, or are they to be seen as food?”
Henning looked bemused
.
"Well, I suppose
they
… I would have thought that they see them as
…”
"Food," Rohleder finished for him.
"No, they can’t do that!”
"They probably can, Muschi, and what’s more they probably do." Rohleder sounded philosophical but Henning noted the calm formality of suppressed dread in his voice.
"Let me talk with the boss, Michael. He’ll put things straight." Henning patted him on the back. He wanted to make a joke of his attachment to the boy but he stopped himself and walked off to talk to Von Struck.
"I shouldn’t think so, Wolfgang," Von Struck answered. "If that was the case, why are the civilians still alive now?”
"I don’t know. Perhaps they haven’t yet registered their presence, as it were. Perhaps they’re just not hungry or they’re saving them for a rainy day. I don’t know but I would be happier if I knew for sure." He paused and added, "And I’m pretty sure Michael would be happier too. He’s gotten very attached to the boy and he’s probably got designs on the mother.”
Von Struck nodded. "Right, well I had better ask Jurgen, er, Arak, as soon as possible. Don’t say anything to Michael. I’ll find out tonight before they go out.”
"I hope you get the right answer or there could be trouble, and I don’t want to have to scrap with a vampire again.”
It was a clear spring evening, lit by a burning moon and a billion stars. Von Struck waited at the entrance to the mine for the vampires. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought of this line of threat. It was just another sign of the ever-increasing burnout he was experiencing, in fact what they were all going through. None of them had had any
sustained time off from operations in years. This was meant to have been their rest and recuperation from the front.