Vampire Apocalypse: Fallout (Book 3) (6 page)

“Thank God,” he muttered and
grimaced at Angela Wallace, who worked the consol beside him.
Angela had been an excellent dietician in her previous life but had
not succeeded in taking in all Atkins had told her, so, while she
continued to press buttons and turn dials in the exact sequence she
had been shown, she wasn’t entirely certain whether the sequence
should ever change to take into account any anomalies such as these
temperature spikes. They all knew that they were sitting on a time
bomb but there was no way any of them were going to admit their
lack of knowledge to the thralls. While they were all aware that
there was a chance the plant might explode, it was a certainty that
they would all die if the thralls discovered their deception.
Besides, it may never blow. Fear and worry for their own lives and
the lives of their families tied each of them into the lie
together.

Warren’s heart began to slow in
time with the descending needle and he wiped the sweat from his
brow with his sleeve. Whatever had caused the spike had seemed to
have abated for now. Probably just a blip, he decided. Such things
probably happened all the time. The fact that he couldn’t recall
such blips when Atkins had been in charge might just be because
Atkins had handled them without worrying the others. He had a
sudden image of Homer Simpson at the controls of his Nuclear Plant
in Springfield and almost giggled insanely. God, talk about life
mimicking art. And he didn’t even have any doughnuts.

Peter Harris rolled his
shoulders in the narrow space to relieve the cramp in his back and
wiped the dust away from his goggles. The patrol was only a few
feet from him and the dust their vehicles created as they lumbered
past threatened to choke him. He checked his XM8 Heckler and Koch
to take his mind off his physical discomfort and sighed, stifling
the cough that threatened to escape from his dry throat. They had
set up this action in a hurry but the very fact that the patrol was
here at all had him very worried. The patrol passing him was only
three vehicles in strength but, significantly, they were the first
of Carter’s forces to cross the border into Nero’s territory and a
white flag flew in plain sight on all three vehicles.

What was happening? Were the
thralls trying to deal with Nero? Were they sending similar envoys
into all their neighbouring states or was this the only one? Had
the thralls figured out where they were hiding? The questions
reeled through his mind, almost making him dizzy. He realised, of
course, that it was only a matter of time before someone figured
out that all the attacks were limited to a relatively small area
along the border with Nero’s territory, but he had hoped for more
time than this.

It was, after all, a huge border
and he had always been mindful that they were very limited in the
distances they could travel safely for the raids they conducted. To
this end he had made sure that each raid was spread as far from the
last one as was possible but there was a limit to the distance they
could travel with serum-addicted prisoners on their return from a
raid. If someone were to take the time to plot each raid there
would be a definite concentration around the towns within a hundred
miles along the border with Nero’s territory. There was nothing
Harris had been able to do to prevent this but he had always tried
to be careful. Unfortunately, it seemed that he had not been
careful enough.

He had taken a huge risk
recently when they had attacked a small town much further away than
ever before. It was almost two hundred miles south and under the
rule of another vampire he did not know the identity of, but who he
knew was marshalling his own forces since word of the battle of
three months ago had spread. It had been a gigantic risk, and now
he wondered if that risk had been for nothing after all. It had
taken them two days of dangerous travel to make the raid and three
on the way back due to the increased patrols in the area. He really
had thought that the diversion would sufficiently confuse anyone
looking for them. They had lost ten prisoners on the way and he had
hoped that their sacrifice would have at least bought them some
more time.

Unfortunately, though, it seemed
that the new thrall commander was far cleverer than those who had
previously handled the job and it looked like he had seen through
his ruse. Or maybe he was reading too much into this patrol. Was it
just part of a larger hands-extended-in-friendship ruse by the new
commander to ensure neighbouring states did not think they could
merely cross the border after such a violent and costly civil
war?

Another problem was that his
team was not even trained for this level of combat. They had
trained hard in guerrilla tactics against armed, stationary targets
who might be aware that an attack might come at some time, but they
could not remain at high alert constantly. This attack, however,
was on a fully armed patrol that was obviously well trained and
actively expecting a surprise attack. But he really didn’t see
another choice. The fact that this patrol had crossed into Nero’s
territory and had not yet been challenged would expose the fact
that Nero no longer controlled this territory, and that would
invite a much closer inspection, if not an all-out invasion. They
had to ensure that this patrol did not report back or they would
risk losing everything.

He really had thought that they
would be able to stop this type of hit and run tactics when he had
sent Steele to the vampires to tell them of the danger of the
serum. But something was going on that just did not make sense to
him.

Since their rescue of the
prisoners three months ago the entire landscape had changed
dramatically. The thralls had taken their destiny into their own
hands and had split from the vampires. In the confusion resulting
from each side consolidating their own positions, Harris and his
team had been able to continue rescuing prisoners, though on a far
smaller scale since they had their own troubles in the
community.

A deep sadness threatened to
overwhelm him but he forced it back savagely. He understood the
community’s motives even if he didn’t agree with their methods. But
it had been three months now and the prisoners they had rescued
were still being given the serum. It didn’t make sense. Didn’t the
vampires know that they would die as well if they continued to
drink the blood of serum-saturated humans? He knew that the message
had reached Von Richelieu because Steele had confirmed it before he
had killed himself.

God
! He thought as his
depression grew. There had been so much death already. Good friends
had died during their last mission. Their faces swept in front of
him as if using the thick dust as a movie screen, Steele, Carlos
Ortega, Dee Ratigan, and Rodgers. The list was far too long. It
seemed that there would be no end to this struggle, after all.
Their sacrifices had been for nothing. Maybe he shouldn’t have told
the vampires about the serum, it certainly didn’t seem to have done
any good. And now that they knew that free humans existed they
would continue searching for them until they were certain they were
completely wiped out. Even with Adam Wilkins’ wireless protection
it was unrealistic to think that they could remain hidden
indefinitely. Had he doomed everyone after all? Had it really all
been for nothing?

Here he was again, lying in wait
for thralls in a hastily prepared trap, but what did it really
matter? Even those who they had rescued had turned against them or
failed to stand with them when the committee had passed judgement
on him. He still found it hard to believe that fellow survivors had
actually cast out their own people. Well, it had been only him that
had been banished, but the many of his team had stood with him and
had shared his fate because of it. On one hand, it had been
somewhat encouraging to see how many people had actually stood up
and wanted to come with him, but, in the end, he had not been able
to accept their sacrifice. Some he had had to force to stay. Men
like Pat Smyth and Father Jonathon Reilly would serve everyone
better if they stayed where they could continue their work. But
others he had accepted gratefully.

He had been shocked when the
verdict had come in. It had been just after Steele had paid them a
visit as a vampire. The fact that he had been able to just appear
inside their community so easily had shocked everyone and Phelps
had used this fear to force through the emergency meeting that had
led to his banishment. Phelps had argued that if Steele could just
simply waltz in among them, so too could an army of vampires. Of
course, it had all been Harris’ fault. He had told the vampires
where they were.

There had been those who stood
and tried to explain that Harris hadn’t told anyone where they
actually were but Phelps had driven home his point by displaying
Steele’s body, and there had been little coherent thought after
that. The fact that a thrall patrol from Von Kruger’s territory had
been seen patrolling along the border under a white flag a few days
previously, had only caused more panic and Phelps had skilfully
heated the fires of fear that raged through the small
community.

He had argued that it wouldn’t
be long before these patrols actually crossed the border and
discovered that Nero was dead. The people had all been terrified
and grasped with both hands Phelps’s assurance that, by forcing
Harris out, the vampires and thralls would leave the rest of them
alone. Their quarrel was with Harris, after all, not with the rest
of the community. In their fear, the people had accepted this and
Harris had found the vote going against him, albeit by a narrow
margin.

He had been speechless. To
banish anyone from the community was like serving them a death
sentence. If Steele had not killed Sherman earlier that day, Harris
would not even have sought such punishment for him, and he was
guilty of cold-blooded murder. He had expected censure, of course,
even some form of punishment for disobeying the council. After all,
if everyone broke the rules then the council could not maintain
order. He understood this, but banishment had been unthinkable. As
he lay in wait for the patrol to reach the point of ambush,
thoughts of that night flooded his mind and he was carried back to
the auditorium where the meeting had taken place.

Chapter 4

The atmosphere in the auditorium
was electric. Harris could sense emotions running high as soon as
he entered the room. Phelps already stood on the platform like a
warm-up act busy whipping the audience into a frenzy in preparation
for the main event. Only this time the main event was deadly
serious. Only an hour ago they had been shocked when Steele had
returned to them as a vampire, and Harris was still reeling from
the implications.

Had Steele merely been the
vanguard? Could they now expect a full invasion of thralls and
vampires on their small community? Harris had been informed of the
meeting as he had led April back to her room. The poor girl had
been almost inconsolable about losing Steele, and Harris had wanted
to stay with her, but he assumed that this meeting was to plan
their defence in light of the night’s disclosure and that was of
paramount importance. He had still been reeling from Steele’s
revelation that Von Richelieu already knew of the community’s
existence and that they had a traitor amongst them. He had briefly
considered whether Steele may have been trying to set the humans
against one another in an attempt to destabilise any resistance
they might offer, but Steele’s selfless act in taking his own life
had proved to Harris that his friend had told them the truth.

Harris had been shocked when he
had reached the auditorium only to find a room filled with former
colleagues all shouting and pointing in anger at him as he entered
the room. He was dimly aware that Phelps was orchestrating it all
from the platform but his actual words were drowned out by the roar
of the crowd as Harris came into view. Harris had experienced many
different reactions from people since they had discovered that he
had sent Steele to warn the vampires of the serum’s lethal payload,
but he had never felt such raw emotion as he had that night. The
wave of anger hit him like a physical blow and he was forced to
stop in confusion and wonder if he had somehow entered the wrong
room.

He scanned the crowd who had
turned up for the meeting and realised with a sudden sadness that
he did not know most of them. Some of their faces were familiar
from the many rescues he had led, but he had never had the time to
get to know these people. Many of them were already so caught up
with their own survival and their own problems that they had
already forgotten the sacrifices that had been made to free them.
It was obvious from their anger that they had already forgotten the
people who had risked their lives to save them. It had been no
comfort that they were obviously being manipulated by Phelps, who,
even now, continued his ranting from the platform.

Harris and his team might have
saved most of the lives of those present in the room but Phelps had
begun the process of undermining Harris’s position a long time ago.
Harris realised with a start that his own commitment to saving
others could very well be his downfall. While he and his team had
been out rescuing more prisoners, Phelps had worked hard to
ingratiate himself with these people and had slowly built his
popularity and sown the seeds of dissention. He had merely been
waiting for the right time to strike. And Harris had unwittingly
provided him with the very opportunity he had been waiting for on a
plate.

Harris continued to press his
way into the room as he made his way to the platform. He had never
been one to avoid conflict and his own anger began to boil as he
realised that Phelps had been patiently waiting for just such an
occasion.
How dare he?
Harris thought as he pushed his way
through the crowds. How dare he threaten everyone for his own petty
power games. The crowd parted easily as Harris continued toward the
platform. Their anger might have been directed towards him but few
of them had the courage to stand in his way. His companions behind
him struggled to keep up as the crowd quickly closed behind him
like the tide around a rock, blocking their approach.