Vampire Apocalypse: A World Torn Asunder (Book 1) (28 page)

“That many, Sergeant? No matter,
you have done well.” He looked up at the sound of wings in the
night and saw three vampires peel off from the swarm and approach
them while the rest continued on to the house.

“Bring the traitor here,” he
ordered and the thralls threw the General to the ground at his
feet. He smiled evilly and spat at Evans while the figure struggled
to his feet.

“I hope the master lets me deal
with you personally,” he gloated.

“I doubt we’ll get that far,”
Evans replied and produced a grenade hidden in his sock. The
Lieutenant’s face went ashen when he saw Evans pull the pin and
jump at him. The three vampires arrived and began to
metamorphose.

The Lieutenant screamed and felt
Evans clamp his hand around his neck and saw him look deep into his
eyes. “Join me in Hell,” he stated and then the grenade
exploded.

The three vampires were caught
by the blast, but it wasn’t nearly enough to kill any of them. They
reeled from the shock when shrapnel tore into their bodies and
caused intense pain, but they recovered quickly and set upon the
only mortals left.

“What is going on here?” Nero
demanded and the Sergeant cowered beneath his baleful glare.

“Father, they’re getting
closer,” Dan Harrington screamed as he glanced down at the
priest.

“Nearly finished,” Reilly
muttered distractedly. He finished the blessing by making the sign
of the cross over the well with some chrism. The cool water rippled
when the priest sprayed the small vial across its surface. The well
was situated at the bottom of the tower, leading some of the
residents to speculate that the whole tower was there purely to
collect rainwater and ensure a supply for cave residents.

“Father!” Harrington shouted
again. His voice climbed several octaves while he watched the swarm
of vampires begin their descent.

“Okay, we’re done,” Reilly
shouted back. He pulled the cord on the motor that sat beside the
well. The motor roared to life, then spluttered and died. “Shit!”
Reilly blasphemed and offered a silent prayer before he pulled the
cord again. This time the motor roared and then settled down to a
constant hum while it sucked the water through the hose attached to
it. The hose ran from the well all the way to the top where
Harrington stood. Reilly watched while the hose hardened as gallons
of water were forced upward.

When Harrington felt the hose
straighten in his grip as it suddenly filled with water and the
power threatened to rip the hose from his hands. He planted his
feet solidly on the ground and put all his strength into holding
the hose steady. Once the initial violence of the water filling the
empty hose had abated somewhat he reached forward and opened the
valve. Water shot out of the nozzle at tremendous force and arched
out from the tower into the night air. The tower, while connected
to the house, was not actually accessible from the dwelling. The
only way in was through the Cave. On the outside it resembled a
small circular turret that reached to the same height as the
chimney.

Harrington had no idea what its
planned use was, but was happy it was here. He shifted his feet
slightly as he struggled to control the hose and direct it towards
the approaching vampires.

“Father,” he shouted through
gritted teeth, “this thing is bucking like a son of a bitch!”

Father Reilly climbed the narrow
steps as quickly as he could to help. Together, the two men slowly
regained control over the flailing hose and directed the water at
the vampires.

“I hope this works,” Harrington
shouted over the thunderous noise.

“So do I,” said Reilly and he
held grimly on.

The water shot out into the
night and struck the lead vampire with full force. The power sent
it reeling back through the swarm. Harrington could see shock
register on the creature’s face when it looked down at its chest.
Gaping holes appeared where the water had hit the creature, and
flesh melted away from bone. The creature opened its mouth to
scream, but water had splashed onto its throat and destroyed the
flesh there. The Vampire fell to the ground in silence.

Harrington grinned while he
directed the stream of water from side to side, searing flesh from
bone on contact.

Vampires started to fall from
the sky; their bodies burned to an unrecognisable mess of bone and
withered flesh. The first wave of vampires faltered as those at the
back reacted. Bodies veered wildly to avoid the deadly stream.

Vampires crashed into each other
in their panic. Their wickedly sharp talons raked deep furrows into
each other, while water burned through wings and sent them
spiralling to the ground.

Harrington and Reilly whooped
for joy as the attack faltered and then broke completely apart.

“Not so tough now are you,
motherfuckers?” Harrington shouted, and then sheepishly looked at
Reilly. “Sorry, Father.”

The priest grinned and was about
to reply when suddenly, the hose went limp and the water ran
out.

Chapter 28

Nero grew angry watching the
mayhem. Already six vampires lay dead; their bodies still
smouldering from the holy water. Five more lay on the ground
holding stumps of arms or legs. They screamed piteously. In all his
years as a vampire he had never seen another of his kind scream
like that. There was little blood because the water had cauterised
the wounds on contact, but it still ate into the flesh that
remained like acid. The remaining vampires began to land before him
and transform. Flesh rippling over bone as their bat-like features
moulded back to human.

“What are you doing back here?”
he screamed at them. “You are Vampires, Lords of this earth. Get
back up there or I’ll destroy you myself!”

The Vampires hesitated, looked
from Nero to the house and back again, as if weighing up which they
feared most. It wasn’t until they noticed that the thunderous sound
of the water cannon had stopped that they seemed to be able to
choose.

“They’ve run out.” Nero smiled
evilly. “Come, follow me. I’ll show you what it is to be a
Vampire.”

With that Nero transformed and
launched himself into the air and the remaining swarm followed.

The corridor between the living
quarters and the main entrance was a hive of activity. People
formed a line and carried tables, chairs, desks and anything else
they could find to build a barricade between themselves and the
door. The barrier reached almost to the ceiling and stretched at
least ten feet in width across the full length of the corridor.

“Come on, people, let’s move it;
they’ll be here soon!” Harris shouted from halfway up the rampart.
His voice echoed loudly in the confined space.

“Do you think we can hold
them?”

Harris looked down at Sandra
Harrington’s upturned face. Her eyes, the clearest blue he had ever
seen, shone brightly against the background of her dust-encrusted
face.

“I really don’t know,” he
sighed. “It depends on how many there are.”

Just then Dan Harrington and
Father Reilly arrived, both red-faced from the exertion.

“How did it go?” Harris
asked.

“We stopped the first wave, but
they’ve already regrouped.” Harrington panted between breaths.
“Worked like a charm while it lasted, but I never thought all that
water would disappear so quickly. How are we fixed here?”

“We’re about as ready as we can
be. I’ve set up as many men as I could get behind the barricade
with Pat’s special ammunition. We still don’t know if it’ll work
but it’s all we’ve got. Father Reilly,” Harris addressed the
priest, “we’ve got to get the women and children back to--”

“Sorry, Harris,” Reilly
interrupted, “you’ll have to get someone else. These bastards are
about to get their first taste of the wrath of God. I’m staying
here.” The last words were spoken as the priest lifted a machine
gun in his hands and slammed the magazine home. He pulled on the
breech, loaded the first round and looked at the others as if
daring them to deny him.

Harris gaped at the priest,
unsure if he was more surprised at his language or the fact that he
looked very comfortable with that weapon. Harris relented with a
sigh and looked hopefully at Sandra Harrington.

“Don’t even think about it,
Peter Harris,” she warned. “I’m not being left behind again. This
time I’m not leaving your side.”

Harris grinned at the look of
determination in her face and knew that facing the vampires would
be easier than arguing with her.

“All right, but we--”

A heavy boom came from the door.
The noise reverberated around the enclosed area and everyone
stopped to stare at the door. The door itself was metal, a full
seven inches thick and capable of surviving all but a direct hit
from a nuclear warhead. Unfortunately, no one had included vampires
in the original specifications and the metal was already buckling
after the first blow.

“All right, everybody get
ready!” Harris shouted and people ran to their positions.
“McNamara,” the man jumped at the sound of his name. “Get back to
the others and help them get out safely!” His face grew serious.
“You do realise how important this is, don’t you?”

McNamara nodded and sprinted off
down the corridor. The air filled with the sound of magazines
clicking home and breeches being pulled. Then silence reigned.
Except for the pounding.

“Hurry up!” Nero screamed at the
vampires.

There was room for only three
vampires at once at the metal door. Those three had morphed to the
fullest, most powerful form they could manage. Only the eldest of
the vampires could manage this kind of control, those that had
lived at least two hundred years, and Nero had ordered his most
trusted lieutenants to the chore.

He smiled and looked upon the
three creatures. They each had assumed forms that borrowed heavily
from ancient mythology, with an emphasis on power. The first
creature, Pollock, had taken the form of a Minotaur and grown to a
height of some ten feet. His massive back rippled with muscles as
he raised his fists and brought them crashing down against the
metal. The second vampire, Narcissus, had sprouted two extra arms
and extended its body outward to increase it’s mass and so maximise
its centre of balance. The result allowed the creature to strike
the doors with all four appendages and hammer in a constant
windmill motion.

The third lieutenant, Thiebes,
took a hellish form like nothing even Nero had ever seen. Sticky
ochre, the colour of congealed blood, covered its body. Its face
was stretched impossibly over a cavern of wickedly sharp teeth. Its
red eyes were set deep into its angular head. The creature pivoted
back on its short arms and brought its massive legs crashing into
the door in a seesaw motion.

The concentration and energy
needed to assume and retain these forms was phenomenal. All three
would need to feed immediately after they broke through. Indeed,
they would need to gorge on the humans to recover from such
exertions.

Still, thought Nero, there’s
plenty to go around.

The noise was unbearable. The
constant hammering made everyone flinch with each impact. Harris
looked over at Rodgers and Reiss, both men injured with their legs
in bandages, but adamant that they would not slow down the escape
party. Rodgers caught Harris’ss eye and winked, a stupid, wide grin
transforming his features for a few seconds before grim
determination took its place. Harris smiled in acknowledgement and
shook his head.

Things just wouldn’t be the same
without him, Harris thought.

Reiss lay propped against the
far wall, his leg heavily bandaged. Four machine guns lay against
the wall beside him, and a pile of magazines sprawled on the floor
in easy reach.

Dan Harrington and Father Reilly
crouched together to his left, and just past them Harris could see
Pat Smith, the portly, bald-headed chemist upon whose “magic”
bullets all their lives depended. Smith must have sensed Harris”
gaze as he glanced over and nodded towards him, attempting a smile
but his nervousness got the better of him and the smile fell from
his lips.

He felt a hand touch his own and
broke the gaze to look at Sandra Harrington and smile. She smiled
back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked tired and
frightened. He took her hand in both of his and squeezed gently,
and then looked along the line at the forty or so men and women. A
deep pride swelled in him. No one here had chosen this path, but
each and every one of these people was prepared to die to try and
give the others the time to escape through the water tower.

While the vampires” attention
was centred on the main entrance of the Cave, the rest of the
community would make their way through the water tower and out into
the forest beyond. They didn’t worry about the vampires trying to
use that entrance as they had left just enough water in the bottom
of the tanks to make any assault impossible for the creatures, even
if they found it.

Harris looked at his watch.

Another ten minutes and they’ll
be clear, he thought.

Only Father Reilly and himself
knew about their final, desperate gambit now that Crockett was
dead. The knowledge weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had sought
and received absolution from Father Reilly earlier, and now kept
checking his waist for the small metal box secreted on his
belt.

All along the line men and women
dried their sweating hands against trousers and occasionally
shifted position when muscles cramped. Each person’s attention was
riveted on the metal door.

The pounding continued.

The metal finally split with an
ear shattering crash. A tear appeared almost perfectly down the
centre. The remains of the door flew to either side and the entire
corridor shook when the heavy doors crashed against the walls.
People swallowed on dry throats; knuckles went white as they
gripped their weapons tighter. From the faint mist of dust and
destruction emerged three visions from hell that pushed through the
smoke and approached the humans. The barricade had looked strong
and unassailable just minutes before, but when Harris looked up at
these creatures it now seemed woefully inadequate.