Vampire's Day (Book 1): Epicenter (3 page)

12. Clash

“Fuck off!”

The creature, which was, a few minutes ago, a naked girl in high black boots, was not going to fuck off. Instead, she again rushed into the attack; the board in his hands didn’t frighten her. She jumped at him from the corner, at the same moment that he ran across the street from his crashed car. Their short trip ended at the crossroads when he drove with one hand and beat Doc, who tried to grab his throat. They landed on a crashed car, the driver saved by his seatbelt, and Doc was thrown against the pawnshop wall. The driver didn’t stop to find out what had happened to him. He ran to where he could see police car lights, at a time when she attacked him. Girl was of medium height and thin, but the driver was thrown to the pavement, as easily as a billiard ball.

“What are you doing, bitch?!”

The girl didn’t explain her behavior, and repeated the attack, and only then did he notice that her eyes were the same as Doc’s eyes. He also noticed a laceration on her neck. It looked as though it should be a fatal wound. She should have died from blood loss, why hasn’t it happened? He reached out for the board and sent a heavy blow to her right knee.

“Fuck off, bitch!”

Her hands were cuffed behind her back, so she fought only with her head and legs. He figured that this gave him a decent chance against her, so he attacked, breaking her jaw and giving several hard blows to the head.

“My God.”

There was no pulse, she was clearly dead. Why had she died now, and not a few minutes earlier from the huge blood loss?

“My God.”

He heard steps. A police officer arrived.

“I didn’t want to kill her, but she attacked me and I had to, it was self-defense. I had no choice, do you hear me? She probably contracted rabies, she tried to bite me…”

He didn’t finish, because now he could clearly see the bloodstained uniform jacket, ragged wound and Officer Daniels’ eyes. The driver jumped away from the corpse of the girl and ran away. He ran and ran until was caught by Daniels’ bullet.

13. Family business 2

“When did you buy this store?”

“Twelve days ago I was issued with the papers. I bought it on credit; on Friday I made the first payment, and next four days accepted the goods.”

“These are your men?”

“Yes, laborers. Yesterday I hired them for the day. All three can drive, shoot and know the city well, which in this case is very important. Here, look.”

The host brought the guests to three vans that stood at the gates.

“Four-wheel drive, reinforced brake system, an ignition I tested personally. The doors, hood and gas tank are covered with steel plates. The keys are in the ignition, and they have full tanks.”

Clarence threw back the tarpaulin - in the back were green wooden boxes.

“That's all I managed to buy. I understand that you hoped for more, but I had no time. Handguns – thirty-six pieces, shotguns – forty-nine, semi-automatic rifles – thirty-one, a total of one hundred and sixteen, plus ammunition. Radios, spare batteries, flashlights, maps, flares - all are here. It is for the first time, the rest took on the ground, like a trophy.”

“Good. Where will our base be?”

“Look carefully.”

Clarence laid out the map of the city.

“Here, here and here – large parking’s, helicopters and drones can’t keep track of what is happening inside, the CCTV systems are disabled. Here you will collect the first groups and send them down to the city. My team will be at location number four, there is a good workshop.”

“So, let's not waste time.”

The gates opened very quickly - just a few seconds and the first pickup left the garage, followed by the second and third, then the gates were lowered just as quickly. After escorting his guests to their tasks, Clarence took a small radio, gave a few orders and returned to work.

“The kids are back,” his wife said, as she opened the steel door and let in a boy and a girl of about sixteen, carrying sports bags, in which they hid air rifles.

“I made nineteen hits, including two cops and an emergency doc.”

“I made twenty-three, but no cops - only a couple of firefighters and some repairers. The rest are civilians, they ran in the right direction.”

“Excellent. The new wave of hungry will attack the cops who are trying to keep the south and the city center. Their defense will be crushed. Help Mom with her loading.”

The children fill the last car with boxes of weapons and items, putting a few short, thick tubes on top.

“What are these?”

“Home-made mortars, I saw these in Afghanistan. They’re primitive, but they work. There are mines in those green boxes, be careful. Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Then let's go.”

Mr. and Mrs. Clarence, with their children, promptly jumped into the car and left almost immediately. Mr. Clarence shouted, “Give it five minutes and then go!”

His men complied with his order with precision. They waited five minutes, then opened the gate and drove out of the garage on light motorcycles with big black bags on the pillion seat. The last one slowed and threw a burning match into a big puddle of gasoline spreading from the overturned two hundred liter barrels. Meanwhile, the first one had reached the intersection. He stopped at a hydrant, pulled heavy steel coils out of his bag and threw them onto the road. The metal clanged on the asphalt, and turned into a long spiked strip. Thirty seconds later, these spikes pierced the wheels of the first car, which crashed into a lamp post at full speed. Another twenty second passed and the spikes pierced the next car.

14. Crossroads

“We urgently need reinforcements!”

“Call the medics!”

“We have two dead and one injured…”

“Firearms, repeat, there are firearms being used against us!”

“Civilian casualties, the number isn’t clear, a lot of…”

“I was forced to open fire…”

“No connection to the third car…”

“Repeat, didn’t obey…”

Number Three listened to the police radio, noting with satisfaction that things were moving according to plan, and perhaps even more swiftly than originally intended. Panic was growing, covering more and more city areas, with the enemy rapidly losing control of their forces. It was necessary now to continue on the offensive, keeping the momentum high.

“Faster, come on! At the crossroads you’ll get help, don’t stop. Faster, you need to evacuate quickly!”

The crossroads ahead was blocked by a pair of police cars, with an ambulance stood behind them. She counted five patrols and a couple of doctors. They had been sent here without any explanation about what to do, simply because no one knew what was going on. They heard shooting from the back of the block and saw running civilians. Women and children at the front, she needs a lot of noise.

“Officer, what's happening?!”

Police uniform, sewn especially for her, didn’t disappoint, camouflage worked.

“Terrorists, fanatics! There are about twenty, all with rifles and hand grenades – they are shooting everyone, going from house to house. We were ambushed and they killed my partner. I received orders to withdraw the civilians. We need help, we have many wounded!”

“I wasn’t informed about this. Do they have a hostage?!”

The senior officer didn’t finish because shooting started from the top floor of three-storey house at the next crossroads. Two civilians were killed, and the driver of the police car was seriously injured – all according to plan. Officers opened fire in response, while the doctors tried t
o
evacuate the civilians. Sheltered in the porch, Number Three used her service weapon a couple of times, firing in the direction of the attackers, and then extracted from her sleeve a small air pistol.

In the rage of the brief battle the police officers and doctors didn’t notice the tiny wounds caused by the little bullets. The clock is ticking. After a maximum of six minutes, the shooting will stop and this crossroads will be captured, the same as the previous two. Number Three waited, occasionally looking out of the window for another patrol team, or fire truck. She continued listening to the radio – the panic rose further.

15. Ark

If a driver used the same car for a long time, he usually gave it a name, and Miss Gloria was no exception - she had driven this bus for seven years, and called it Ark. She was not particularly religious, and the story of Noah and his friends didn’t mean a great deal to her; she just liked the name, a symbol of peace and security in the middle of road chaos. At the moment it was quiet on Ark board, althoug
h
she didn’t like what was happening outside.

“Miss Gloria, we're already late!” A girl in the front row with a ponytail looked at her expensive wristwatch. The driver peered at the digital clock on the dashboard and agreed with the girl - they were late.

“Today the entire city is late, don’t worry. I'm sure that the school principal already knows about it.”

Over the years she has driven Ark and carried children on board, there have been many times that she had to stand in traffic jams. Usually jams occurred due to the fault of anothe
r
incompetent driver or someone speeding, imagining himself to be a Formula 1 racer.

But today the road was blocked by police – she couldn’t remember a similar case. What these guys doing here, trying to catch some crazy in a stolen sports car? But the road has been blocked for a long time, and the police have simply stopped traffic, why? She thought she knew the answer, and it is one she doesn’t like – it must be because of the hijack of a plane at the airport, and the reported shooting.

But why stop the traffic here, so far from the airport? She has already contacted the control room and was told that that traffic was blocked all through the city because of the riots. What riots? She tried to call her friends, other drivers. Two responded that they were also stood in traffic jams, another one didn’t answer.

“Miss Gloria, can I open the window?”

“No!”

When necessary, she was able to be strict, since discipline had to be maintained on the Ark, otherwise the children would quickly become unmanageable, she knew this well. But now she just needed silence to hear what was said on the radio. She didn’
t
want to make it too loud, so that all the school bus passengers could hear it. On the radio they were talking about the riots, covering block by block, reporting looting, arson, accidents, shooting, talking about something totally wild.

“Miss Gloria, look! They’re shooting, there’s a shooting on my street! Look!”

A black boy with braces on his teeth jumped out of seat without permission, ran up to her and handed a phone with a big screen. She wanted to scream at him, so that he would return to his seat, but didn’t do so, seeing that he wanted to show her. She recognized the place – she was there recently when driving this boy and two other passengers. There was a familiar snack-bar, where she bought noodles with pork a couple of times. Now in front of the snack-bar was a police car with flashing lights and broken windows, the front wheel punctured. Behind the car were a cop and a civilian, the cop with a revolver, and the civilian with a shotgun. The picture isn’t great, unknown operator takes on the phone, leaning around the corne
r
.

“Miss Gloria, look what they are showing on TV!”

“I need to go home, urgently!”

“There's a war, and…”

“SILENT! Go back to your seats and shut up!”

Restoring order, Miss Gloria looked ahead at the police, at other drivers running to the cops and yelling. For a moment she also wanted to be there, finding out from the men in the force what was happening and what to do, but this weakness passed. The driver must not leave the bus; she was responsible for the children.

The Ark passengers clung to their phones, and she listened to the radio at full volume, switching from one station to another. There was panic in the air - screams, gunshots, crashing and banging, orders and cries for help. She remembered once seeing a movie about a nuclear war, and panic in the doomed city, but that was a movie, and the panic and shooting somewhere behind the Ark was real. She tried to see in the rearview mirror what was going on, but couldn’t see anything, just running people and cars, trapped in a traffic jam and making frantic attempts to escape. She made another call to the dispatcher, but there was no answer. Ahead a cop fell to the asphalt with a bullet in the head.

“Hell!”

The Ark engine roared like a tiger, but even this wasn’t loud enough to drown out Miss Gloria’s commanding voice.

“HOLD ON!”

She had a racing game on her computer in which she could drive a variety of cars and violate traffic rules as she wished. Miss Gloria sometimes played by driving a digital equivalent of the Ark, pushing cars and crushing pedestrians under the wheels with vindictive pleasure. The game also simulated a variety of emergency situations. A few days back, she had played a similar case where she also had to get out of a traffic jam. It was time to try the maneuver in the real world.

She turned the Ark, sliding out of the way of an abandoned Lexus and slowly coming up on the curb. The large black wheels crushed the green lawn and the horn scared running people. A small bullet hole appeared on the windshield, but she has no time to look around to see if anyone had been hurt. It is time to get out of there.