Adrift 2: Sundown (26 page)

I hope.

When the elevator announced its arrival with a cheerful
bing
once more, Herb stepped outside and hurried the others out. Once it was clear, he reached inside, and sent it back down to thirty-three.

“This way,” he said, and led them to the right, along a wide glass-walled corridor, to a door which nestled alongside the exterior of the building, offering an incredible view across Canary Wharf and, on a clear day, as far as the east coast of England. Herb paid the dark panorama laid out before him no attention, and turned to face the apartment’s front door. He flipped open a panel next to it, revealing a palm scanner, and placed his left hand against it.

The scanner was coded only to accept senior members of the Rennick household.

Like Jeremy Pruitt, who Herb saw standing in the apartment when the door swung open.

Behind a large man with a hard, bloodstained face, who aimed a stubby submachine gun directly at Herb’s forehead.

“Inside,” Mancini growled, shooting an anxious glance down the hallway toward a distant door marked
stairs.
He kept the gun trained squarely on Herbert Rennick’s forehead, and stepped aside, waving the small group at the door into the apartment with his free hand.

Somewhere behind him, he heard a click. Burnley readying her weapon.

Rennick was travelling with a woman wearing a police officer’s uniform, and what Mancini guessed was a police dog, along with a teenage boy and a man who looked like he’d just undergone a savage round of chemotherapy. Dan Bellamy wasn’t what Mancini expected at all; he looked frail and sick, his eyes ringed with blood. He didn’t look up; didn’t even seem to notice Mancini or the gun he held at all. It was like Dan Bellamy’s eyes were somewhere else, staring at some horizon that only he could see.

He kept a watchful eye on the dog as the disparate group filed into the apartment, but the animal didn’t look like it would give him trouble; it seemed focused on the distant stairwell, just as Mancini himself had been.

He closed the door and locked it.

“Hi Jeremy,” Rennick said amiably.

Jeremy Pruitt sighed heavily.

“Hi, Herb.”

“Better put the place on lockdown,” Herb said. “There’s one in the building.”

Mancini felt the blood draining from his face, and glanced at Jeremy. “Do it,” he growled, keeping his eyes on Herb.

“Weapons on the floor,” he said. “All of you.”

Herb slipped a handgun from his belt and tossed it at Mancini’s feet.

Mancini stared down at it, confused.

“That’s
it
? One gun?”

“Yeah,” Herb said with a smile. “Not even sure it has any bullets, but do feel free to check. Oh, and hey: who the fuck are you?”

“I called the Americans, Herb,” Jeremy said heavily, and he popped open a panel near the door, punching a code into a keypad. Moments later, steel shutters began to descend, covering the interior of the windows and the apartment’s front door, erasing the view of the burning city.

“Yeah,” Herb snapped bitterly. “Still working for Dad, huh?”

Jeremy shook his head and started to reply, but Mancini had heard enough. He gestured at the couches in the open-plan living room, glaring at Pruitt until he closed his mouth.

“Take a seat, Rennick. The rest of you, too. Burnley, keep your gun on Rennick. If you decide his mouth is too smart,
do feel free
to shut it for him.”

Burnley nodded, her eyes never leaving Herb.

“You don’t need to do that—” Jeremy said, but Mancini waved a hand to silence him, and stepped back to the front door. He put his ear against the metal which now covered it, listening intently.

Nothing.

The sheet of steel which had fallen over the apartment looked thin, but he didn’t doubt that it would hold. The vampires were strong and resourceful, but punching through tempered steel was a stretch, even for them. For the first time since he had arrived at the Rennick apartment—barely two minutes before Rennick himself did—Mancini allowed himself to relax. The vampires couldn’t get in. The only way harm could come to those inside was if the monsters found some way to take down the entire building. It didn’t seem likely.

Mancini checked his watch.

Still several hours until sunrise.

He lost himself in thought. Craven only wanted Bellamy, and she would have no problem with him killing Rennick if he deemed it necessary. Hell, she’d probably applaud it.

He shot a glance at Rennick. The guy looked like he was just
itching
to start talking again.

Firing a weapon with a vampire somewhere in the building was asking for trouble—steel shutters or not. If Rennick was determined to cause problems, Mancini would have to find quiet solutions.

Knifework, then.

He glanced toward the distant kitchen.

“Okay,” Herb said brightly, clapping his hands together and rising from the couch. “Who wants cocktails?”

The policewoman grabbed his shirt, and hauled him back down into his seat, keeping her other hand firmly on the mutt’s collar.

“Smart lady,” Mancini said, making his way into the living room. “I’m not here for you, Rennick, but I have no problem killing you, if that’s what you want. When you’re running your mouth, all you’re doing is making me change my mind about
how
I’m going to kill you. Capiche?”

“I recommend slightly overfeeding me and ultimately inducing a fatal heart attack,” Herb said with a serene smile. “Should only take about forty years, and the police will never catch on. I eat plenty of junk food alrea—”

Mancini darted forward quickly and swung a left hook, connecting firmly with Rennick’s flapping jaw, and the kid finally shut up.

Mancini kept walking, his nerves racing, heading for the apartment’s plush kitchen.

And the knives.

He selected a large carving knife from a rack, and turned back toward the living room, coming face to face with Jeremy.

“You don’t need to do that,” the Brit said. “He’s a good kid.”

Mancini shrugged.

“Sure. They all are. But I have a job to do, and I’ve already lost most of my team getting this far.”

“So, take Bellamy!” Jeremy thundered. “He’s what you’re really here for.”

Mancini strode back into the living room, pointing the knife at Herb.

“He’s a loose end, Pruitt. Come to think of it, there are an awful lot of loose ends in this room. Like you said, I only
need
Bellamy.”

He lifted the knife, and Jeremy faltered, taking a half-step backwards. For a moment, the room bathed in tension, the air crackling with the threat of impending violence.

“I just wanted to go home.”

Mancini blinked at Dan Bellamy’s small voice. He glanced at him and laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, good luck with that, buddy. Where I’m taking you, you’re going to be a long way from home.”

“I have a condition.”

Mancini frowned.

“I’m sick. Getting worse all the time. I just needed to go home and take my medication. Not even sure I’m…
me
anymore.”

Dan kept his eyes pointed at the floor, and spoke in a soft monotone. Mancini couldn’t even be sure that the guy was actually talking to him. He didn’t even look like he knew exactly where he was.

Mancini walked around the couch, trying to attract Bellamy’s attention. The scrawny guy just kept staring at the floor, his face buried beneath a mop of hair.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked dubiously, looking at Herb.

Rennick just stared back mutinously.

Dan giggled. “That’s the funniest thing,” he said. “I used to wonder the same thing myself. Now, I’m not sure it was ever me. It’s the
world
. The question is: what’s wrong with everybody else? Why don’t you all hear it? The
river
?”

Dan lifted his chin and met Mancini’s gaze.

Burning eyes.

A scream caught in Mancini’s throat as invisible thorns punctured his mind, putting down roots. Taking away control.

His world became a tunnel, and all he could see was Dan Bellamy’s searing pupils, ringed by blood, boring into his soul.

He hoisted the MP5, pressing the cold barrel into the side of his own head.

Bellamy rose from the couch, his eyes blazing, and Mancini dropped to his knees in front of him.

Worshipping him like a god.

His finger began to curl around the trigger.

And suddenly, the world was plunged into darkness.

The presence in his mind was gone, releasing him like an unclenching fist. Mancini fell forward, gasping for air, clutching at his throat.

“What happened?” a woman’s voice snarled. Not Burnley; the policewoman.

Mancini heard a low rumble fill the room, and moonlight began to wash into the apartment. The steel shutters were opening.

“Power cut,” Herbert Rennick said, with a rueful chuckle. “Lockdown didn’t last long.”

“They cut the power to the whole damn building?”

“Take a look outside, Conny. They cut the power to the whole damn
city
.”

Mancini squeezed his eyes shut.

Should have run when I had the chance.

Herb strode over to the choking American and scooped up the machine gun which he had dropped on the floor. He checked the magazine, and nodded to himself. It was full.

The American woman—Burnley—still had a pistol trained on Herb, but she looked uncertain. Probably, Herb thought, Burnley was thinking about how close she just came to being the last one standing, and what the hell she was supposed to do next.

Join the fucking club, lady.

“I think we’ve got bigger issues right now, don’t you?” Herb said amiably, gesturing at the American woman’s gun. She nodded slowly, lowering her weapon.

“Conny,” Herb said, “would you mind taking her gun? And any others she might be carrying.”

Conny nodded, and headed for Burnley, who gave her weapon up with a sigh and opened her jacket to show that she wasn’t otherwise armed. Conny turned the gun over in her hands, gazing at it intently as she moved back to the window.

Herb offered a hand to the man gasping on the floor in front of the couch.

“You never did tell me who the fuck you are.”

The American glanced up at him, his eyes wide and angry.

“Mancini,” he growled, staring at the gun in Herb’s left hand. After a moment, he lifted his gaze to Herb’s eyes and nodded, taking the hand that was offered and hauling himself to his feet. “What did he do to me?”

Herb grinned.

“He does what
they
do, Mr Mancini,” he said, and struck out with a solid right, connecting sharply with Mancini’s jaw and knocking him straight back onto the floor. “That makes us even. I’d prefer it if we could stay that way for a little while.
Capiche
?”

Mancini wiped at his lip and grunted.

Herb left him on the floor and strode over to the window, moving to stand alongside Conny and her son.

Far below, the city of London was a dark stain, lit only by fire and headlights.

“I don’t get it,” Conny said. “How could they cut the power to the whole city?”

Herb frowned.

“They cut the lights as a matter of priority,” he said absently. “I should’ve guessed. But at least we know where the rest of them were, now. Power stations. London isn’t served by just one. The city draws energy from several, all over the south of England. You don’t just pull a plug and cut the power to a city of this size. While the whole world is looking at London, the vampires have been busy disabling the whole
country
. A few here to attract attention, the rest spread around Britain, dismantling our infrastructure. Taking out power stations, and who knows what else. They won’t even have to engage with the military. They can pick us off at their leisure, and let our reliance on electricity do the rest. Without power, they own the night.”

Conny shook her head in despair.

“I thought if I could get Logan out of London, things would be fine…” she trailed off, gazing out across the dark city.

Herb glanced at the terrified boy, and his expression hardened.

“We’re gonna have to get him a little further than that,” he said.

Conny smiled weakly.

“We?” she said. “
You’re
going to help? I’ve got pretty serious doubts about you getting out of this room alive, let alone out of the city.”

“You and me, both,” Herb said with a wink, and he turned away.

“Hey, Captain America? What was your extraction plan?
Please
tell me you had an extraction plan.”

Mancini glowered at him.

“We have a Gulfstream waiting at an airfield south of the city.”

“Sounds good. Any firm ideas on how to get there?”

“Yeah, just one: wait here until sunrise,” Mancini spat bitterly.

“Looks like your plans are about as useful as mine,” Herb said. He glanced at the window dubiously. They were a long way from ground level, but if the vampires
did
venture up the building, they would be able to break in with ease now that the shutters were out of action.
Besides which
, he thought,
there’s the small matter of the one that’s already in the building…

Staying might get them killed.

So might running.

Herb thought about the decisions that had led him to the dark apartment; the wrong choices he seemed to have continually made. At every turn, he had acted on his instincts, and people had died as a result.

“I guess we stay until they give us a reason not to,” he said uncertainly. “They might not even come up here.”

Dan coughed and shook his head, drawing all eyes in the room back to him.

“I tried to tell you, at the hospital,” he said, his voice little more than a rattling croak. “When I was inside the vampire’s head, I…wasn’t alone. There was something there. Something…looking back at me.”

Herb frowned.

“A vampire?”

Dan shook his head. “I don’t think so. Something else. More like something the vampires worship. Like their version of God. It…guides them, I think. Communicates with them. The black river…”

“Okay,” Herb said, lifting a hand in a
stop right there
gesture. “I’m not following.”

Dan shook his head like a dog, trying to clear it out.

“Whatever it is, it knows where I am, Herb. Or: it knows where I
was
when I killed myself.” He flushed. “Uh, when I killed the vampire.”

Herb stared at him, confused. “The hospital?”

Dan nodded.

“They’re all headed in this direction,” he said quietly. “Every last one of them; following the black river. I think they’re coming for me.”

*

Dan watched their moonlit faces carefully as he delivered the news. Everyone in the room looked at him with a fearful expression that he knew was only half the product of him telling them that the immediate vicinity would likely soon be swarming with vampires.

The rest of their fear, well, that was reserved for Dan himself. It was plainly written on their faces—even Herb. They were all scared of him.

And shouldn’t they be?

Dan focused his gaze on Mancini.

Was I really going to kill him?

The big American glanced at him furtively, and looked away. Dan knew why. For a moment there, he had
been
Leon
Mancini, and a moment had been long enough to peer around in the dusty cupboards of the man’s mind. Mancini had killed dozens in the name of country and money, and more than once for little reason at all. A mercenary.

Mancini didn’t want to be in London; he was there, incredibly, to appease a woman he hated and loved in equal measure, and his fear at the events unfolding around the city hadn’t quite broken his resolve to bring the prize that she demanded back to America.

Me
, Dan thought bleakly.
I’m the prize.

A surge of bitter resentment rose in his gut.

This will never end. If it’s not Herb or Mancini, it will be someone else. Or the vampires.

Or the river.

He stared at the stocky American.

“Jennifer Craven,” Dan said absently, and Mancini looked at him with wide, fearful eyes.

Herb glanced at Dan, surprised.

“Craven? What about her? And how do you even know that name?”

“From inside
his
head.” Dan pointed at Mancini. “His name’s Leon.”

Herb’s jaw dropped, and he stared at Mancini, who in turn focused furiously on the window.

“Jesus Christ,” Herb said, his voice soft with wonder, “…uh, stay out of my head, Dan, okay?”

“Jennifer Craven wants me,” Dan said, through a rattling wheeze. “She’s the one that sent Mancini. The head of the Order in America. She’s a murderer.”

Herb chuckled.

“Aren’t we all?” he waved an arm around the room. “Well, maybe except Conny and her kid.”

Conny kept her eyes on the floor.

“Yeah, maybe,” Dan said, “but Leon over there thinks Craven
enjoys
it. Don’t you, Leon?”

Mancini glared at him, his face a mixture of revulsion and barely-contained fury.

“He’s afraid of her,” Dan said, and began to cough violently.

Herb’s brow furrowed. “When Craven starts to matter, we’ll figure it out. First, we have to live that long. The hospital is right around the corner. If they start searching this whole area…if they find us? We won’t survive the night in here without the shutters. Not up against all of them.”

Dan felt the ripple of tension as it ran around the room at Herb’s words. They all knew it, Dan thought, but hearing somebody
say
it was a whole different matter.
We won’t survive the night.

“How many more times do you reckon you can do your little
X-men
trick?” Herb said.

Dan shook his head.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s
me
doing it. But each time it happens, I feel like a little less of me comes back. I’m not entirely sure that I’ll…come back at all.”

“Okay,” Herb said, “We have to figure this out, you’re right, but now isn’t the time—”

It is
, Dan thought, and blistering pulse of white-hot rage coursed through him.
It’s exactly the time. In fact, it’s long fucking overdue.

I’m not anybody’s fucking prize.

The strength of the emotion which rolled through Dan took him by surprise. Like all who live in fear, he had dreamed all-too often about asserting himself and taking charge of his own destiny, yet even in his dreams, the crippling anxiety had always been there, lurking in the background like a shadow.

Now, it was absent.

In its place; seething, boiling outrage.

Determination.

“Mancini,” Dan said, his voice gritty. Mancini turned his head, but refused to meet Dan’s gaze directly. “Jennifer Craven doesn’t want to
kill
me, does she?”

“I don’t honestly know,” Mancini admitted with a sigh. “But I’d guess whatever she had in mind involved your death somewhere down the line, yeah.”

“Hmmm,” Dan grunted. “I suppose I’ll just have to see if I can change her mind about that. So do what she pays you for,
Mr Mancini
. Extract us. Take me to Colorado. Take
all
of us.”

“Sure,” Mancini said sourly. “No problem. Other than the skyscraper without power that we’re at the top of, and the city full of vampires, and your friend Rennick over there pointing my own gun at me. I’ll get right on it.”

Dan stared at Mancini for several long seconds, before finally nodding.

“Let him have his gun back, Herb,” he said.

Herb looked dubious.

“What are you doing, Dan?”

“It’s like you said. Home doesn’t exist for me anymore. How could it? Where else
should
I go now? I’ve been running and hiding for the last two years. No more.”

Herb’s brow furrowed.

“It’s okay,” Dan said with a weak smile. “Let him have his gun. Leon won’t get any funny ideas, will you, Leon?”

Herb stared at Dan for a moment, and then at Mancini. Finally, he shrugged and slid the machine gun across the floor to the American.

“Funny ideas like killing Rennick, you mean?” Mancini said as he picked the weapon up. “Nah. I’ll gladly take him to Colorado. Craven will just
love
him.”

Dan barked a sour laugh, and coughed violently.

More blood.

“Everyone got their dicks in a row?” Conny said abruptly from the window.

Nobody had an answer, other than her son’s almost-stifled chuckle.

“Good,” she continued, turning to face the room, “then maybe we can focus on getting out of here?”

“Without power? Without elevators?” Mancini said. “Good luck with that. You geniuses brought a vampire in with you, remember? And more on the way. There are probably half a dozen in here already, going floor by floor. Want to tell me how we’re going to find our way out of here without stumbling into
that
?”

“Sure,” Conny said, and she pointed at the dog sitting by her side. “We follow him.”