Vampire Apocalypse: Fallout (Book 3) (39 page)

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Authors: Derek Gunn

Tags: #vampires, #vampire, #apocalypse, #war, #apocalyptic, #end of the world, #vampire fiction, #postapocalyptic, #postapocalyptic fiction, #permuted press, #derek gunn, #aramgeddon, #vampire books

BOOK: Vampire Apocalypse: Fallout (Book 3)
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“I will find you, you know,” he
turned to the thrall captain and shrugged.

He wondered if he should tell
the thrall about the serum. Would it do any good or would the
thrall use it as a weapon against the vampires? One thing was
certain, though, people would start dying in the next few months if
he did nothing. He sighed and dropped to his haunches as he studied
Carter.

“I need to tell you something,”
he began as the rain began to ease. He knew that he was taking a
chance hanging around wreckage that would act as a beacon to any
searching thralls, but he had no choice. “I don’t know if you will
do anything about it or whether there is any scrap of humanity left
in you, but I leave that to you and your conscience.” Carter looked
at him through the haze of pain as his body slowly knitted itself
back together.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Peter Harris.”

It took an hour before Harris
was happy that he had done everything he could to try and impress
upon the thrall the importance of acting upon the information he
gave him. He could do no more. By the time he moved over to
Warkowski, the big man was waiting.

“Do you think he will stop the
serum?”

Harris shrugged as they began to
walk away from the thrall. “I don’t know. The logistics of looking
after prisoners not doped on the serum would be a nightmare. On the
other hand, if all the humans are dead then the vampires will have
no choice but to use the thralls for food. It’s a tough call, but
he’s not stupid.”

“Then it was worth it?”

“Who knows if any of it is, my
friend? We can but do what we think is best. The rest is out of our
control.”

The rain had stopped by the time
they pulled themselves from the gulley. The sun swept over them,
warming their frozen limbs.

“Do you think we’ll make it?”
Warkowski asked in a rare flash of concern.

Harris looked at his friend and
shrugged. “Radiation, pneumonia or the thralls finding us, take
your pick.”

“I’ll take the thralls, my
friend, though I miss my rifle.”

“I’ll get you a new one. The
thralls have a nice new complex just west of here. We can drop by
on our way home.”

“You are mad, my friend.
Mad.”

 

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