Rule of Vampire (27 page)

Hoss hesitated. He could try to free Jamie and take her with him. It would be a present to Terrill, to show his goodwill. But he wasn’t quite ready to break with Fitzsimmons, which might mean breaking with the Council of Vampires. Overall, Hoss still thought the Council a very good idea.

“Hoss,” Jamie said, bringing him back to the present. “There is a policeman out there named Robert Jurgenson. If you see him, please… don’t hurt him. Tell him I love him.”

Love?
Hoss wondered.
Have I ever felt loved? Why does this woman’s appeal touch me so?

Hoss turned and, without a word to Feller, walked back to the rest of his followers. He knew Feller wouldn’t leave: he was Fitzsimmons’s creature.

“Form up ranks,” he commanded. “We’re marching to the Armory.”

“Going to help kill off the vampire hunters?” Pete asked, sounding enthused.

“No. We’re going to go help them.”

Chapter 42

Stuart couldn’t believe the magnitude of the cataclysm he’d set into motion. He’d expected the authorities––the freaking Army, even!––to show up and shut the Wilderings down. But either no one could believe what was happening, or in all the chaos, the communication lines were down, or it was just plain stupid bureaucratic incompetence. The only people putting up a fight were a few cops and citizens at the fairgrounds, and they were surrounded.

He’d stayed away from the action at first, catching a few unwary stragglers but not wanting to get caught in what he was certain would be a heavy response, but as hour after hour passed, he started wandering closer to the center of the mayhem. Accompanying him, he had a dozen of the first vampires he’d Made, who were loyal to him and him alone. He meandered about, watching people being chased down, seeing vampires run over by cars driven by panicky humans. It didn’t matter to him who lived and who died.

They’d never forget this day. The people of Crescent City, who’d treated him like a loser, were paying the price. He only wished he had some way of letting them know who’d been responsible for bringing this horror down on their heads.

Stuart decided he wanted to be there at the end, when the last of the humans in this town were snuffed out. He started walking down the coast highway, keeping an eye on the horizon. It was a moonless night, but with his vampire vision, he could see the heavy clouds overhead. He motioned to his followers and picked up the pace.

#

Callendar thought, for a few moments, that they might even win. The addition of Terrill and Clarkson to the fight helped hold back the tide at first, but there was a seemingly endless number of vampires outside. One side of the Armory was tilting inward as the walls were pushed in by the Wildering horde.

Callendar now regretted throwing away his wristwatch. He had absolutely no idea what time it was, or whether dawn would come in time to save them. When he saw the rain start to trickle through the skylights, his heart sank. If there were heavy clouds, it didn’t matter if dawn came. It might weaken the vampires and slow them down, but it wouldn’t stop them.

When the corrugated metal walls finally crashed in, he expected a swarm of vampires to tumble in after them.

Instead, he saw a line of vampires facing outward, pushing back against the Wilderings trying to get in. A single small vampire faced him, a young teenager, his hands raised as if to say,
Don’t shoot.

Callendar saw Abercrombie raise his rifle, but signaled him to hold off. He walked toward the little vampire and looked down at him. “Who are you?”

“They call me Hoss,” the kid said. “I’m here to talk to Terrill?”

The vampire in question walked over to them. “I’m Terrill.”

“We wish to join you, at least for the duration of the emergency. As believers in the Rules of Vampire, we believe a Wildering infestation is the worst thing that can happen to our kind.”

“Very wise,” Terrill said. “Since you are here, perhaps you can help us prop this wall back up.”

Everyone was energized by the addition of several dozen new defenders. Some of the men and women from the pack of humans huddled in the corner came over to help pile up wooden planks, barrels, concrete blocks––anything they could find, including their own bodies––to shore up the wall against the vampires outside.

“We aren’t strong enough or numerous enough to hold them back for long,” Hoss said. “You’ll need to take the fight to them.”

Terrill nodded. He’d been thinking the same thing. Who
was
this little mastermind of a vampire? Where had he come from? How did he even know about the Rules of Vampire, much less feel such loyalty to them?

“How do you know all this?” he asked.

“Google.”

It is a new world,
Terrill thought,
where time and distance means little, and a 13-year-old boy can find the truth by simply looking through the information available on a machine.

However this debacle ended, it was going to be difficult to keep it a secret, though that would probably be in both the vampires’ and the vampire hunters’ best interests.

Terrill looked around, but Hoss had disappeared on him. Then he saw the young vampire approaching the humans in the corner. The local cop, Robert, had his gun trained on him as he approached.

“You’re Robert Jurgenson?” he heard Hoss ask.

Then he heard a huge crash and turned to see the heavy doors fly open and a car careen through. It slid to a stop. The Wildering driver’s head was smashed against the steering wheel and he wasn’t moving, but he was followed by a wave of vampires, who streamed toward them.

Terrill raised his pistol and shot the leading vampire, whose head disintegrated. He fired again, hitting a vampire who looked like she’d been a middle-aged housewife in the throat. She fell, gurgling, to the floor. He pulled the trigger again and heard a click.

Terrill lifted a jagged piece of metal he’d pried from the wall and swung it at another one of the Wilderings. It was dull: the vampire’s head didn’t come completely off, but flopped to one side. He swung again and sent another vampire reeling sideways, but the attacker got up again and hobbled toward him. The second blow split the thing’s head open.

He saw Jeffers pull the vampire out of the driver’s seat, take his place there, and back the car toward the doors. Between him and Abercrombie and a few of the surviving cops, they got the metal doors closed and the car placed against them. But it was only a matter of time before one of the other vampires outside got the same idea.

Robert Jurgenson approached him. “I’m sorry, I have to leave. I know where Jamie is. I need to rescue her.”

Hoss appeared at his side, as if instinctively knowing that Terrill needed to step back from the action. Terrill looked at the tall cop and didn’t like what he saw. The cop was leaning to one side, wincing in pain, his hand unconsciously clutching his waist. He was pale and shaky.

“You’re in no shape to save anyone,” he said.

“I have to try.”

“I can help you,” Terrill said. “I can Turn you. You will be stronger than any vampire––if you survive my bite.”

“No.” Robert looked stubborn. “I will not become vampire.”

“Then you will not save Jamie,” Terrill said bluntly. “If you become vampire and you don’t like it, I will help you end it.”

Robert hesitated. Then he swallowed hard and nodded.

“If you are not pure of heart, if you have evil within you, my bite may do more harm than good,” Terrill warned. “But if you have goodwill toward others, you may be turned into something new in this world. You’ll be a golden-blooded vampire.”

“I understand,” Robert said. “Do it.”

Terrill wasted no time. He scooped the man into his arms and sank his fangs into his neck. The cop was skin and bones, he realized. The uniform had hidden the extent of his decline.

Robert closed his eyes and relaxed. Terrill lowered him slowly to the floor, where he twitched once and was still. It was the quickest Turn Terrill had ever seen: almost immediately, Robert sat back up again. There was awe and determination in his eyes. “I had no idea,” he said wonderingly.

“Now you must feed from me to complete the change.”

Robert discovered that just by willing it, he could get his fangs to extrude. He took Terrill’s offered arm and bit into it.

It was as if the sun had burst into his body, charging every cell, repairing and strengthening every muscle and tissue, making his blood course faster and more smoothly, the oxygen in the air going directly to his head. He almost fell to his knees under the onslaught of sensations, but he adjusted quickly to his new existence. It felt… right. He thought more clearly and felt more vibrant than he’d ever felt in his life.

“Go!” Terrill said. “Go, with my blessing. If I never see either of you again, tell Jamie I’m sorry.”

Robert nodded. He ran toward the back of the building, where a small breach in the wall had been covered by a wooden pallet. He pushed the pallet aside and disappeared into the darkness.

Chapter 43

Michael stood in the middle of the hideaway as if he’d been waiting for them. Marc emerged from the tunnel first, and when he started to stutter an apology, Michael shushed him. “It’s OK, Marc. There was nothing you could have done. It was destined to be.”

Fitzsimmons came next, followed by Peterson. Upon seeing the gray-haired vampire staring calmly at them, Peterson drew the blade from his cane.

“I was expecting Terrill,” Fitzsimmons said.

“I’m sure you were,” Michael said. “You’ll have to settle for me.”

“And you are…?”

“Oh, come now, Fitzsimmons. You know perfectly well who I am.”

Fitzsimmons cast a nervous glance at Peterson, stepped back, and pulled out his pistol. “If you are who you say you are––and I’m not sure I believe it––then why are you here? Why now?”

“One thing leads to another, to another, to another, until they lead to the end,” Michael said serenely.

“The end?”

“Yes. The old world has ended and a new one has begun… though you seem intent on trying to destroy it.”

“I am only following your precepts,” Fitzsimmons protested. “The Rules you suggested.”

“Are you?” Michael asked. “Be honest, Fitzsimmons. No one else is here besides a frightened child and one of your flunkies. You can tell me the truth. Do you really believe in the Rules of Vampire?”

Fitzsimmons looked blank for a moment. Then he broke into a grin. “Well, well. I think perhaps I believe you really are Michael. You’re the only one to have figured it out.”

“But it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Michael said. “How better to discredit the Rules of Vampire and break apart the Council than to so strictly enforce them that you ignite a rebellion against the very things you profess to believe? I have to admit, you’ve done a good job of it.”

Peterson spoke up, a disbelieving tone in his voice. “Fitz? Is this true?”

“Shut up, Peterson. You’ve never cared about anything but power.”

“But without the Rules, the Wilderings will take over and we’ll be doomed,” Peterson said. “We’ll be hunted down and destroyed!”

“Many of us, perhaps,” Fitzsimmons conceded. “But those of us who survive will be
free!
Free to do as we please, when we please, to whomever we please, Rules be damned.”

“Then why do you want to capture Terrill?” Peterson asked, looking confused. “He created the Rules!”

Michael laughed grimly. “He doesn’t want to capture Terrill. He wants to kill him.”

Fitzsimmons didn’t deny it.

The vampires stood there staring at each other while outside, the sound of gunshots and explosions rose to a crescendo.

“Killing Terrill was the last obstacle,” Fitzsimmons said finally. “Or so I thought. But killing Terrill’s Maker, the one who helped him develop the Rules… that will be even better.”

Looking nervous, Peterson raised his sword, as if expecting Michael to attack at any moment.

Michael shook his head. “Do as you will. I will not defend myself. But I don’t think the results will be what you expect.”

Fitzsimmons raised his pistol and shot Michael three times in the chest. The ancient vampire fell to his knees, but he was still conscious. He had a rueful smile on his face. “I have lived a long time,” he said softly. “It is long past time I ended it.”

“Peterson!” Fitzsimmons shouted. “Finish it!”

Peterson appeared to be frozen in place. Fitzsimmons grabbed the sword out of his compatriot’s hand and raised it over Michael.

Michael looked at Marc, who was cowering in the corner. “Remember this, son. Tell the story…”

The blade slashed down, seeming to catch all the light in the room, flashing like lightning, and Michael’s head rolled toward Marc, who screeched and scrambled out of the way. He kept going, diving into the tunnel and disappearing from view. Peterson started after him.

“No,” Fitzsimmons said. “Let him go. We don’t need him anymore.” He walked over to Michael’s head and lifted it by the hair. The ancient vampire’s face looked calm, at peace. The legendary Michael was the easiest kill Fitzsimmons had ever made.

He tossed the head into the branches of the enclosure and turned away with a dismissive shrug.

#

Stuart was leading his followers toward the sound of gunfire when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of someone appearing as if from nowhere. The vampire moved fast, running around the corner and out of sight, but not before Stuart recognized him.

It was Marc, the last vampire Stuart had Turned before leaving town.
Interesting.
he thought.
Apparently he has a hidey-hole.

Marc and Jamie had had a strong connection, he remembered. It was entirely possible that they were hiding in the same place. Stuart wasn’t sure what he’d do if he found Jamie: kiss her, or kill her.
Perhaps both,
he thought.

He left the road and approached the spot where he’d seen Marc appear. Sure enough, there was a tunnel under the blackberry bushes.