Vampire Apocalypse: Descent Into Chaos (Book 2) (7 page)

Phil Regan was one of these people. He knew politics,
having served on election campaigns as a speechwriter. He didn’t
advertise that none of his campaigns had been successful but he did
know how to write a damn good speech and was able to deliver it
with great emotion and credibility. In committee meetings, though,
he was petty, disruptive and power hungry, but, to his growing base
of supporters, he was open, handsome and, according to his
manifesto, the future.

Peter Harris was the closest thing the committee had
to a public face and he just didn’t have the skills to compete. He
was impetuous and intolerable of others when they didn’t give 100
percent in their assigned duties. He worked himself ragged trying
to rebuild their community and this left no time to wander around
and take the time to meet the people. He was everything the
community needed—honest, hard working and caring, but had none of
the skills to portray this. Regan, however, had none of those
qualities but all of the necessary PR skills to make it appear as
though he had.

A battle had been raging in the committee for over a
week now. Harris argued that a unique situation existed at this
moment in time between the two neighboring states that might not
only set the cabals at each others throats but could also give them
an opportunity to save more people and obtain fuel and supplies in
the resulting confusion. The committee had agreed but Regan had
not. His growing support within the community had forced the
committee to allow him, and a number of his supporters, on to a
new, larger committee and the resultant arguments had lasted all
week.

Harris was used to arguments, he had spent his time
arguing against her own father often enough, but, while those
arguments were based on mutual respect and a desire to do the right
thing, Regan argued for personal advancement and power building. He
put his own safety and position ahead of anyone else.
Unfortunately, only the members of the committee were privy to his
real motivations.

Harris had finally stormed out, gathered up his crew,
and set off on the mission without approval. Sandra could see that
this was probably the humane and correct thing to do, but his
impetuous actions had left the core committee in a precarious
position. Regan argued that if they did not have the power or the
tenacity to control their own members then they could hardly be
trusted to look after such a large community.

The old committee had served admirably to this point
but they needed to pass the reigns to those who could better handle
the growing needs of the new community. To this end, Regan had used
Harris’ departure to demand that an election be called and to let
the people decide who should lead them. They were, after all, a
democracy, were they not?

It was this election that had Sandra stumbling from
her sick bed to attend a public debate that would decide the future
of their community.

The room was filled with people and the noise of the
various heated exchanges struck Sandra like a physical blow as she
entered. There was a raised platform at the far end of the room and
she could see a few of the committee members trying vainly to
restore order. Regan sat back and watched the room, the smile on
his face indicating that the chaos in the room was exactly what he
had wanted.

Patrick Smyth, their resident scientist, waved his
arms franticly and banged a small gavel on the desk as he tried to
restore order. Smith was a lovely and quite brilliant man, but he
was not accustomed to addressing large crowds and he was drowning
in the sea of abuse and raised voices that swept over him. He
caught sight of Sandra and his eyes portrayed a deep sadness that
she had never seen before. Sandra made her way towards the desk.
Patrick was the only member of the original committee behind the
desk and Regan sat with five of his closest supporters, so the
balance of the debate was clearly against him.

Regan stiffened as he caught sight of Sandra, and she
smiled to herself at the look of annoyance that creased his face.
He obviously hadn’t expected her to make it.

“Ah, Sandra there you are,” he announced and his
voice immediately brought calm to the proceedings and conversations
trailed off as people strained to see how things developed. “We
were just discussing Peter’s heroic outing.”

I just bet you were, she thought as she finally made
it to the edge of the raised platform. She was exhausted already
and cursed herself as she had to stop to catch her breath. What was
worse was that Regan took the opportunity to jump down to her and
help her to her seat. She really didn’t want to appear weak, and
certainly did not want Regan to appear any more dashing and helpful
than he already was. He grabbed her by the arm and squeezed hard as
he directed her to her seat. She didn’t have the energy to resist
and had no choice but to let him lead her. She seethed with anger
but maintained a congenial smile throughout; there was no point in
giving him any more ammunition.

She dropped into her chair with relief and Pat turned
to her, concern etched all over his face.

“I’m fine,” she whispered and winked at him. Regan
took his time returning to his seat, and by the time he had settled
himself the room had become quiet again.

“As I was saying,” Regan continued, “what one member
of the community does directly affects the survival of all of us.
If one person eats more than their share or doesn’t do the tasks
assigned to them then we all suffer. After all, we are in this
together, wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”

Sandra could see exactly where he was going but had
no choice but to agree. “What you say has merit,” she answered,
“however...”

“There is no ‘however’, my dear,” Regan interrupted
and Sandra suppressed the urge to slap the smile from his face. But
the damage was done—a low mumbling of resentment began to spread
through the room. “Eating more than one’s share is only a minor
infringement; what young Peter has done is far worse. His actions
threaten to expose us all and put our families in the gravest
danger.” The mumbling in the room grew louder as Regan expertly
steered the people where he wanted them.

“We can’t just sit here and hide for the rest of our
lives!” Sandra could feel her control slipping as she formed her
response, and her voice cracked slightly as she tried to be heard
over the growing noise. “We are running low on fuel and food and do
not have enough of either to survive in the long term if we do not
get them elsewhere. Peter and the others are out there risking
their lives—yet again, I might add—so that you can feed your
families and keep them warm over the next few months.” She paused
for breath and the room quieted as her message began to get
through. “Yes, it’s a risk, but their plan is an excellent one that
will set our neighboring factions against each other while we
benefit. The gains from their excursion will see us all comfortable
and safe during the winter, and by next spring all the work we are
doing in the fields will bear us enough food so we can be more
independent. Until then, we have to get our supplies anywhere we
can.”

She was getting through to them, she could feel it,
and took a moment to glance over at Regan. Outwardly he remained
calm, but Sandra imagined she could see gears smoking in his head
as he frantically tried to regain the initiative. She decided to
push on with the committee’s main argument.

And in so doing made her mistake.

“The serum is killing families all over…”

“What proof do we have of that?” Regan’s voice easily
cut through the rumblings of approval for Sandra’s impassioned plea
and the crowd went suddenly quiet.

Sandra faltered as the question took her by surprise.
“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Regan rose from his chair and a hush fell
over the room as every eye followed him. Sandra might not agree
with him but she had to admit the man knew exactly how to work a
room to his advantage. “And this is meant as no disrespect to
Doctor Smith, but are we certain of that? We keep hearing of this
impending disaster, but what if the results were misinterpreted? I
mean Pat is very good at his job, but how qualified is he to make
that call? What kind of doctor did you say you were, Mister
Smith?”

Pat Smith flushed and his podgy cheeks grew redder
under the intense scrutiny. He was a private man, more at home in
his lab than trying to calm a room full of people. He was a chemist
by trade but the committee had decided long ago to keep that detail
secret. They had a dangerous shortage of medical staff, and none of
those they had had any researching skills so could not confirm or
deny Pat’s startling findings. At this time they needed everyone’s
cooperation in weaning their survivors off the serum. This was a
priority if they were to save as many people as they could, and
they could not afford useless debate while others died.

The fact that Regan was prepared to use this
information shocked Sandra. Regan was well aware of the chaos this
would bring to their community. He had just raised the stakes and
put the honor of the whole committee into question, regardless of
their motives.

“Yes,” Regan continued to a rapt audience. “Our
leaders have not been entirely honest with you. Mister Smith.”
Regan took great pleasure in emphasizing the word ‘Mister’. “Though
I am sure he is excellent at what he does, he is not actually a
doctor. He is merely a chemist.”

Every eye in the room moved to Smith and Sandra as
the room filled with angry voices and Sandra couldn’t help shooting
Regan a look of pure hatred.

Regan let the shouting build like a conductor
extolling an orchestra to greater heights. Sandra struggled to be
heard as she appealed for calm. “We had very…” she began but the
shouting drowned her out and she had no choice but to let the angry
tide wash over her and hope that they would listen when they
eventually calmed down.

Regan watched impassively, a look of sad resignation
on his face, though Sandra was sure that he was delighted with the
crowd’s reaction. The larger community that they now served had
been straining against the authority of a committee that had not
been duly elected by them all for weeks now. There had been more
griping and disagreements than usual but nothing serious till now.
The committee had promised a full election and had delivered on
that promise. Unfortunately, they had been forced to be quite
severe in their rationing and work assignments lately in order to
keep the community going until the election could be organized.
They had few provisions and so much work to do as the community
grew far beyond their current supplies. Their actions, though
necessary, had caused resentment among the new arrivals that had
been spared the horror of the vampire attack two months ago. These
people did not truly appreciate the precarious position of their
community in this new world. And unfortunately, the number of new
arrivals was far in excess of those who had a better
understanding.

Regan was tapping into this resentment but Sandra had
not expected this sort of attack. He might be a bastard, and she
might not have agreed with all of his ideas, but she had believed
that he had the community’s’ interests at heart. Obviously, though,
the community’s needs came second to his own ambitions. This latest
attack, though, was designed to throw the whole community into
chaos and that threatened their very survival. If they split as a
community, then they would all die.

He raised his hand and the room began to come to
order. “It pains me…” he continued and appeared close to tears.
God, he is playing us so well, Sandra thought and only her
knowledge of what he was doing kept her from falling for his act.
“…but I feel that everyone deserves the truth.” There was a sudden
rush of shouted approval and Regan waited a moment as he let the
support grow. “We will only survive in this new world if we work
together. We come from a world where mankind’s mistrust and
dishonesty led to our downfall. Countries fell too easily to the
vampires because they did not trust each other enough to coordinate
a united resistance and I’ll be damned if I will be a party to such
deceit now.” Shouts of agreement and approval swept over the room
like a physical wave.

“We need to grow as a community before we can even
attempt to take on the vampires,” he continued, and people shouted
their agreement. “The effects of the serum are merely conjecture at
this point and we should not threaten our families on the guesswork
of a man who is more used to dispensing cold remedies than
investigating complex biological viruses.”

Pat Smyth began to rise, his balding pate now as red
as his cheeks as anger flushed through him. Sandra knew what Regan
was trying to do and knew that he was baiting Smith, hoping that he
would lose control. Regan knew that Pat was impetuous and could
never hope to win against him, especially when Regan spoke the
truth. She placed a hand on Smith’s arm and kept him in his seat
with surprising strength. Nothing he said would get through today.
They had lost this battle by seriously underestimating their
opponent. Today’s performance had laid down a marker and she
resolved to make sure that next time they would be better
prepared.

The election was in three days but the result would
be a foregone conclusion as word of today’s meeting got around.
They would have to come up with something fast if they were to
survive. Regan’s demented ambition for power would tear the
community apart and the resulting fallout would see the death of
millions as the serum began to kill those still enslaved to its
effects. They had to do something this year or there would be no
world left to save.

Regan was well aware that Pat’s findings were not
conjecture; he had seen the evidence Pat had presented. The
evidence was beyond doubt. In fact, the committee had shielded the
community from the stark reality of the horrible death that waited
for all those still taking the serum. The children would die first
and the pain that each child would experience as their blood
vessels burst and their organs swelled and shut down one by one was
deemed too terrifying for those who still had relatives in other
states who might still be alive. Regan’s callousness in revealing
this secret in order to discredit the committee worried her. It
rocked her to her very core that such a man could command such
power in their community and she felt nausea sweep over her as she
staggered from the room. Behind her the crowd still chanted his
name as if he were their savior.