Read Vampire Apocalypse: Fallout (Book 3) Online

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

Vampire Apocalypse: Fallout (Book 3) (7 page)

But it was no consolation to
Harris that these people still afforded him enough respect to move
aside despite Phelps’ best attempts to make him a pariah. He had
seriously underestimated Phelps. As Harris made his way through the
crowd he began to realise the extent of the man’s achievement.
Phelps had used the same tactics that others had used repeatedly
throughout history to undermine the work of others. In France, such
tactics had caused a revolution and bloody warfare among
Protestants and Catholics that then spread throughout Europe in a
war that had killed millions, In Germany, Hitler had swept into
power on a wave of racial hatred encouraged by ruthless men with
their own agendas. In ancient Rome, the empire began to crumble
when elitism began to replace the old rules of citizenship. In all
cases the minority had been able to sway the ignorant to their
agenda by feeding and controlling their fear.

Phelps had appealed to the
community’s more base instincts and prejudices while Harris had
been away. He had concentrated on the fact that the community could
not support any more refugees, that everything the community had,
everything they had worked for, would now have to be rationed and
shared with others. He argued that their very safety was at risk
with such a large influx of people and laid the blame firmly on
Harris.

Harris had been aware of what he
had been doing on one level but he had not thought that such
prejudices would take hold on such a young community. He had
dismissed the warnings he had received from others as
scaremongering and had continued to patrol and bring back more
prisoners. He had been so sure that that the people would
understand the need to rescue as many as they could before the
serum began to kill whole populations.

But, he had obviously been
wrong. He had been wrong to ignore the advice from his friends and
he had very definitely been wrong about what the community, as a
whole, thought about his determination to rescue others. The wave
of anger that swept over him as he walked through the crowd shocked
him, and he began to falter.
Just what is going on here?
His
steps shortened. This seemed more like a lynching than a meeting to
determine the best defence of the community.

Harris finally reached the steps
of the platform and began to ascend with a growing unease.

“Ah, here he is now.” Phelps
swept his hand toward Harris with a flourish more suited to a
magician than a public speaker but he had worked the crowd well and
they responded with a roar of anger that staggered Harris. It took
quite a few minutes for the roar to subside enough to be heard but
Harris did not know how to respond to such enmity. He was shocked.
Just what had Phelps been saying to turn these people into such a
rabid mob? What was actually going on? There was no way they could
plan their defence in such an atmosphere.

Phelps raised his hands and the
crowd suddenly quietened and, for a moment, Harris thought that the
silence was in many ways worse than the clamour of before. Feelings
rushed through him as he stood before the crowd. Feelings of
inadequacy, confusion and deep regret mingled with his own anger at
the way he was being treated, and he struggled hard to calm
himself. An outburst now would be the worst thing he could do.

“Dear friends,” Phelps began and
Harris could see that most of the crowd hung on every word. “Let us
not cast recriminations. What’s done is done.” The crowd surged
forward and Harris felt a real fear that their anger would become
uncontrollable and a riot would ensue. He saw Sandra and a few
others finally push their way to the stairs of the platform and
stumble their way on to the platform. Each of them was dishevelled
from their struggle but unhurt, and Harris began to feel a deep
worry that Phelps might have stirred the crowd too much.

“Friends!” Phelps shouted over
the noise and Harris noticed that the crowd did not quiet for him
as quickly as before. There was real anger in the crowd now and
Harris looked to the others with a worried frown.

“We are here,” Phelps shouted
the first words and as the roar of the crowd finally began to
reduce in volume, “to take our destiny into our hands. The time
when others could recklessly threaten our survival is at an end.”
The crowd cheered and Harris looked as Sandra and Father Reilly
with a growing sense of unease. Father Reilly stepped forward and
was about to interrupt but Harris shook his head. This wasn’t the
time to contradict Phelps.

Phelps had chosen his time well,
Harris realised. He had been totally outplayed by the man and now
he would have to wait and see what Phelps had planned. Harris
scanned the crowd and realised with a shock that he did not
recognise any of the angry protestors. He had been far too busy to
get to know these people. He and his team had saved them but they
had not spent any time getting to know them and he now looked out
on a sea of angry strangers. How could he not have seen this
coming?

There was a scuffle from the
back of the room as more people arrived and Harris recognised a few
familiar faces at last, though they were far fewer than he would
have liked. The fact that they were familiar did not guarantee that
they would side with him, either. Maybe he had been wrong, after
all. Did no one agree with him that they must do what was necessary
to save as many as they could?

“Tonight was the last straw,”
Phelps continued, drawing every second of dramatic pause he could
from the audience, playing them like a world-class pianist would
his instrument. In fact, the only thing that took away from his
performance at all was the nervous licking of his lips between
statements. “I am reluctant to thrust myself to the front like
this,” he paused again here and the crowd urged him on, “but
someone has to stand up for the safety and good of us all.” The
crowd cheered again and Harris merely stood, as if rooted in place,
as the scene played out around him.

He was helpless until he knew
what Phelps was up to. Phelps had picked his time well, for the
newest prisoners that had just come in were still being weaned from
the serum and so were not here. Phelps was aware, of course, that
their delight in being rescued would manifest itself as huge
support for Harris and his team so he had chosen a time when their
arrival would have the most impact on the people already in the
community.

Harris had been aware of the
grumblings about having to share their meagre resources with these
new arrivals, but his argument had always been that once the serum
killed the rest of humanity, there would be nobody else left alive
on the planet so they had to act now. Could no one else see that?
These new arrivals should be seen as an important and essential
addition to their growing community, not a threat to their
survival.

The rest of the committee
members began to climb onto the platform and Harris sighed with
some relief. At least now they would see where Phelps was going
with this and maybe he would finally be able to respond.

“Ah, our illustrious leader is
here,” Phelps announced, and one look at Phil Regan’s face
convinced Harris that he was as confused as Harris was as to
Phelps’ intentions. That did not bode well. Patricia Lohan arrived
with Regan, and she cast an angry glare at Phelps which the man
missed as he turned back to the crowd, but Harris saw it and so too
did Father Reilly. The two men questioned each other with their
eyes but neither saw anything in the other’s expression to feel any
more confident.

“What’s the meaning of this?”
Regan blustered as he strode across the platform.

“It is time, dear Leader,”
Phelps answered, “to stop this man’s single-minded crusade to get
us all killed.”

“That is a matter for the
committee in a closed room session and you know it, Ian,” Regan had
to shout over the roars of approval from the crowd, and Harris
raised his opinion of Phil Regan by a few notches. He might not
like the man, he might have ideas well above his own abilities, but
at least he stood up for his committee members.

“I’m afraid we’ve gone beyond
that, dear Leader,” Phelps’ words oozed sarcasm as he again licked
his lips before continuing cutting off any reply Regan might have
made. “We have stood quietly till now and shared everything we have
all worked hard to produce. We have shared our last crumbs with the
poor refugees that have been thrust upon us and we have supported
the gallant work of our colleagues as they continued their
relentless campaign against all the advice, and indeed, wishes of
the committee and general populace.” Father Reilly was about to
speak but Harris grabbed his hand and shook his head; they would
have to let this play out. Interrupting now would only inflame the
crowd. Phelps had, after all, only spoken the truth. Harris had
disobeyed many of the committee’s orders.

“But when it comes to telling
the vampires where we live and endangering our wives’ and our
children’s lives then I, reluctantly, have to step forward and say
no.” The crowd cheered. “If no one else will speak out for the
children then I will do so.” The crowd cheered louder.

“This is not the forum for this,
we will address this in council and we will ensure the safety of
this community,” Regan insisted and made to leave.

“No,” Phelps said simply but the
word was like a brick wall to Regan, who stopped halfway across the
platform.

“What did you say?” Regan turned
slowly toward his Lieutenant.

“The time has come and gone when
a simple slap on the wrist will suffice.” Phelps turned from Regan
and addressed the crowd instead. “Harris has ignored every order
this council has made and gone out and continued to increase the
number of people in this community. While this is laudable to some
extent, we simply cannot feed any more people without starving
ourselves.” The crowd shouted their agreement but there were some
in the crowd who did not agree. “Maybe next year, after the spring
harvest, we can then go out and bring more people in. For now, we
must think of our own survival.”

“You know as well as I do that
next year will be too late,” Father Reilly stepped forward,
ignoring Harris’ attempt to grab him. “The serum …”

“Yes,” Phelps interrupted, “the
serum. Very convenient, that, isn’t it? We still have no proof that
this serum will kill everyone as you say. With all due deference to
Mister
Smith, he
is
only a chemist and not an expert
in the field by any means. He could be wrong.”

“But …”

“No,” Phelps interrupted again.
“This is not about the serum. This is about the flagrant disregard
for the safety of others; it’s about recklessly endangering this
community as a whole. It’s about forcing these good people to
starve through the winter, and it’s about not only telling the
vampires that we exist at all, but where we live.”

There was a shocked silence.
Phelps had left that gem for last and everyone was stunned. The
committee had known, of course, but it had been decided that the
rest of the community should not be told that part of Harris’
plan.

“That’s not the full story and—”
Sandra Harrington stepped forward but Phelps easily cut her
off.

“You will notice she did not
deny the charge.” Phelps grinned and Harris could see that he was
enjoying himself. “Less than an hour ago we had a visit from a
vampire - in our very home.” A muttering swept through the crowd.
“They know we are here because Peter Harris told them. And do you
know why?” Phelps swept the crowd with his stare and counted the
seconds before speaking again. “Because Mr. Smith had determined
that the very serum that is meant to kill those taking it is also
killing the vampires. If he is to be believed, and again this has
not been proven, all we have to do is wait till spring and this
nightmare will all be over.”

“Now wait a minute, there is
more to it than that….”

“I do not want this
responsibility, but,” Phelps ignored the interruption and continued
on, “if we are to die because of one man’s misguided sense of
charity, then I think we should all have a say in his
punishment.”

The crowd was silent now. There
had been far too much to take in. The vampires had caused so much
pain and death, how could anyone want to save them? How could
anyone endanger them all so recklessly? They had been annoyed with
Harris at the start of the meeting but this was far worse than
bringing too many refugees in and forcing them to share what little
they had. This was traitorous.

Father Reilly scanned the crowd
and saw nothing to give him any hope. When laid out the way Phelps
had done, Harris looked like a maniacal traitor. He tried to
compile an answer in his head, tried to order the words that would
explain how these events had come about and how important for their
survival Harris’ actions had been, but the words would not come.
Phelps had said too much and had outplayed them all. He had not
realised the extent of Ian Phelps’s preparation, or indeed, the
hatred that drove the man.

He did not know what to do.

Harris recovered slowly from the
shock of Phelps’ words. There was no way he could put his case
across to this crowd, he could see the cold fury in all their
faces. Phelps had won. It was now a matter of trying to limit the
fallout.

“We should all, as a community,
be allowed to vote on what to do with such a man, and whether he
should even be allowed to remain with this community.”

My God,
thought Harris,
he’s serious; he wants to throw me out
. Harris itched to
reveal that he wasn’t the traitor. He hadn’t told the vampires
where they were. He wanted to explain everything; how the serum
would kill the humans and leave the vampires without food. How the
vampires would be driven mad by the serum before it killed them,
and how that would send them into a feeding frenzy which would
leave everyone dead, including them, as the vampires tore the
country apart in their desperate search for food.

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