Vampire Apocalypse: Descent Into Chaos (Book 2) (32 page)

They outnumbered Wentworth’s forces three to one, so
he wasn’t worried. He laughed as he slashed at a vampire and
relished the blood that sprayed over his face. Around him chaos
ruled. Many of his vampires fought each other just to get at the
enemy, and Von Kruger lost himself to the violence. Talons ripped,
teeth tore, and cries filled the air. Blood flowed and cascaded
down to the earth like rain as the creatures tore into each
other.

Wentworth’s vampires hidden on the ground could not
wait any longer. They had strained against their natures to remain
hidden as they saw Von Kruger’s forces plough into their
companions. The cries of pain and the sounds of rending flesh
seduced them, calling them to battle. But, through it all, their
commander held them in place with force of will and their fear of
him. As the first drops of blood rained on them there was nothing
that could hold them back and they launched into the night and
joined the fray.

Wentworth’s forces high above the mid-air battle
watched with growing excitement as the forces collided below them.
There were fifty of them riding the air currents, saving their
energy for when they would finally be allowed to swoop down. They
watched as many of Von Kruger’s inexperienced vampires flew past
their mark and traveled some distance beyond as they struggled to
slow their momentum and change direction.

The older vampires smiled at the youths’ inability to
control their vast powers and nodded knowingly at each other. A
mere bite did not create a vampire, that only gave them power. To
be a true vampire took centuries. They had been ordered to stay in
place for at least ten minutes, but the sight of the seventy or so
vampires struggling against the rising winds, out of their depth
and helpless in the cross-winds, was too good an opportunity to
ignore. Besides, they would be able to deal with these and still
get back in time for their original plan. What could go wrong?

Wentworth struggled against the enemy vampire behind
him as he swooped and turned in midair to avoid the older vampire’s
vicious swipes. His opponent had changed into a hawk-like figure
the size of a cow but with all the grace and abilities of a bird of
prey and none of the four-legged animal’s clumsiness. Wentworth
couldn’t match the creature’s amazing ability to change direction
with no regard for the laws of physics.

He felt pain flood through him as the creature’s
sharp talons tore his wings, and he realized with a humbling moment
of clarity that his opponent was playing with him. He had to get
away and signal his own ancient vampires or they would all die.

Below him a sudden flurry of movement distracted him
and he felt another sharp pain as his attention was divided. At
first, he thought that he had been hurt far worse than he felt
because the ground seemed to be rising up to meet him. Was he
falling? Then he saw individual flashes of crazed eyes and teeth
glinting in the moonlight. They’re early, he thought with relief as
two of his onrushing vampires tore into his adversary.

Taken by surprise, the creature tried to change to a
form more suited to such attack but the two vampires pressed their
attack and scored mortal strikes against it in seconds. A third
vampire grabbed it by the throat and ripped savagely at the flesh.
Blood poured from the wound and the three vampires lost themselves
in the frenzy.

Wentworth swooped through his forces, almost skimming
the ground itself, and then he surged upwards to his forces above.
He needed their morphing abilities now much more than he did his
younger forces if he was to win the day.

Von Kruger had no interest in the larger battle. All
his focus was on the area immediately surrounding him, and he
lashed out and tore flesh and broke bone, oblivious to the identity
of his victims. He had changed into a compact, armored shape that
was slow and difficult to turn easily. However, in such a crush of
bodies, this disadvantage was easily outweighed by the longer reach
of his four appendages that all ended in wickedly sharp razors.

He was covered in blood, and he plunged his fangs
repeatedly into anything that came close to him. Vampire blood was
intoxicating, far more so than human blood. Why had no one told him
of the joys of such feeding? He lashed out again at a passing
vampire and tore into its soft throat before the startled creature
knew what was happening. Already his belly sloshed dangerously as
Von Kruger gorged. It was taking more and more energy just to stay
in the air but he ignored the tiredness of his wings as he dropped
the dead vampire and reached for another one.

Where are they? Wentworth felt panic grip his cold
heart as he flew up into the thin air and still could not find his
forces. Had they run? He crushed the thought down. There was no way
any vampire would run from such carnage. But he had not passed them
on his way up so they had definitely not joined the fighting
below.

If they were gone, he was finished. He stopped
pumping his wings as he sought a weak air current and let himself
drift as he gathered his thoughts. His keen eyesight could still
see the battle below. The vampires moved with incredible speed,
swooping and diving and ripping at each other, but it was obvious
that his forces were being pressed back. Everything moved in a
blur, but his vampire senses were able to see all the action and
process what he was seeing so that he could make sense of the
blistering speeds. Bodies fell to the ground like meteors, and most
of them lay still. The ground was already littered with bodies, and
the precious blood oozed into the earth, lost for eternity. Never
before had so many vampires died, and never at the hands of other
vampires. This was a truly black day. What had driven them to this?
He wondered idly if there was any way back.

The re-enforcements from his hidden forces on the
ground had staggered Von Kruger’s forces for a while, but they had
soon rallied. Now was the time to strike with his other forces and
catch them from above. If he had been able to strike from above
while Von Kruger was still focused on the current forces then he
could have yet won the day. But the moment was almost gone for the
greatest effect.

An errant current buffeted him and swept him away
from the fighting. He was about to angle his wings down and fight
the current back towards the battle when he heard distant screams
on the air. He straightened his wings and allowed the wind to carry
him towards the sound, and he saw a flurry of movement below him.
Dark shapes, silhouetted against the low moon, darted and plunged
around each other, and he sighed in relief as he recognized his own
forces.

They were winning easily, though they were fewer in
number. They had obviously surprised the other vampires as his
forces still maintained the advantage of height. They also rode the
wind currents far more effectively, and with superior grace.
Already the enemy forces were dropping to the ground in vast
numbers, and those that remained had been broken and were trying to
retreat from the older vampires’ relentless attacks.

Wentworth angled down towards the fighting. This
battle was already won but he could yet lose the war if he did not
gather his vampires and rejoin the main battle.

Steele felt pain shoot through him. It began in his
back where he had been shot but quickly flooded through him like
fire through his veins. His body arched involuntarily, and then he
lost all feeling in his legs. His arms grew numb a second later but
the engine continued to drive power into the wheels as his hand
froze on the throttle. Pain wracked his entire being, but he could
not control any part of his body. His mind was strangely clear and
he had an age to watch helplessly as the bike continued to power
down the road out of control.

For a second he thought that he might actually
continue on, but then his body slumped forward without anything to
hold it up and the shift of weight caused the bike to overbalance.
He felt himself flip over the handlebars, and then he hit the
ground hard. There was a moment when the pain intensified and then
darkness flooded over him.

“Shouldn’t we go back and see if we can help?” Carlos
Ortega asked Sherman as they saw another flare of light from the
town behind them.

Dave Sherman shook his head with a deep sadness. “You
know we can’t, Carlos. There are over twenty people in the back of
this truck relying on us.” And I wouldn’t go back if you fucking
paid me, he thought. Jesus, I’m surrounded by fucking kamikaze
heroes. Is it something in the water?

They had left the town with their load of captives
five minutes ago and Sherman had driven like a maniac in case
Ortega had expressed any thoughts of going back when they were
still close enough to do so. Sherman had expected them all to be
dead by now and was surprised that they were still fighting
back.

“Pull over!” Ortega suddenly shouted as he heard
another explosion in the distance.

“Listen,” Sherman was fast losing his patience.

“No, you listen,” Ortega interrupted. “It doesn’t
take two of us to do this. You can do it alone and I’ll go back and
see if I can help.”

Sherman had insisted Ortega accompany him so no one
would think he had bugged out on the others, but it would be worse
if the bastard kept telling everyone that he had wanted to go back
and Sherman wouldn’t allow him.

“Alright,” he sighed and pulled the truck over.

He was about to remind Ortega to keep the train
tracks in view, but when he turned toward him the man he had
already moved to the back of the truck where he struggled to pull a
small single-load bazooka from the back of the truck.

“Bloody stupid bastard,” he muttered as he watched
Ortega struggle with his burden as he headed back towards the town.
Sherman spat out the window and drove on.

Wentworth brought his wings in behind him and allowed
his body to cut through the air like an arrow. At this speed he
could not turn his head to check on the others but he knew they
were there regardless. The sky roiled below him as dark figures
swooped and turned and fought. There were so many and they moved
with such speed that the light of the moon was too weak for him to
make out the figures in any great detail. The snow had started to
blizzard about twenty minutes ago and already the countless dead on
the ground below were peppered with a light covering of white. The
white reflected the pale moonlight as a backdrop and ruined his
night vision so they would not be able to choose their targets with
much accuracy.

It was a safe assumption though that the larger and
misshapen figures were the older vampires of Von Kruger, so he
directed his attack towards them. As they drew nearer he could see
his vampires begin to overtake him as they shifted their forms to
those more suited to the conditions and better able to cut through
the rising winds. Wentworth watched them ease ahead and wished
fervently that he could make such changes. No matter how often he
had tried though, his dead flesh refused to change. He had assumed
at first that it was purely a lack of imagination on his
part—surely if he could change into a winged creature easily it
would be an easy matter to adapt this change and amend certain
elements—but nothing had worked for him.

He watched, frustrated, as his forces tore into the
vampires below. The surprise of their attack seemed to have a huge
effect, and a number of Von Kruger’s vampires were already falling
motionless to the white carpet of dead below. He grinned as he
watched their corpses disrupt the white tapestry below but the snow
was already beginning to cover them with the relentless
single-mindedness of a spider spinning a web. The scent of blood
surged up towards him as he plummeted towards the fighting, and
finally he was among them. He lashed out at the first figure in
range and reveled in the power he felt as his victim’s blood
sprayed into the wind. He pressed his attack and sank his teeth
into the creature’s throat.

Warm blood spurted into his mouth and he felt
something surge through him like hot lava through his veins. He had
never tasted the blood of another vampire, and the sudden feeling
took him by surprise. It was glorious. A talon struck him from
behind and he grunted with pain and felt the skin begin to knit
almost immediately. He had had many wounds as he had fought his way
to the top, but never had they healed so quickly. Power flooded
through him and as he stretched for the vampire who had struck him
and he felt his arms extending as they reached for the figure.
Bones cracked and flesh tore and healed in one motion.

The other creature slashed at him again but a hard
shell had already formed across his shoulders, and the creature’s
talon was deflected. Wentworth laughed as he felt the pain of
transformation. His body changed, molded without conscious thought,
and he relished the fear he saw in his attacker’s eyes as he
reached for him. He tore his enemy’s limbs from his body with an
ease he had never known before. His mind receded as he let his base
nature take over, and he exalted in the carnage around him.

Consciousness seemed to tease Steele. The darkness
was warm and held the pain at bay, the light promised pain beyond
imagining, but still he reached for it only the have it dissipate
in his grasp.

He opened his eyes but saw only blackness. Am I dead
or blind? His mind felt strangely detached and the lack of pain
made him assume that he was dead. Should I still be able to think
rationally if I’m dead? Then again, how can I be sure that I’m
rational? He tried to move but he couldn’t feel anything. He tried
to close his eyes and open them again, but again all he could see
was black. Except that there seemed to be a faint blurring to his
left.