Dominant Species (2 page)

Food
had become a scarce resource. So there were only limited choices: steal from the vampire’s in the city, with all the associated risks, or find a way to grow your own, something that was easier said than done in the inhospitable landscape created by the Great War.

However, against the odds, t
his is exactly what Jake’s community had managed to do. Together they had recently started a small food production facility in an old abandoned warehouse. The output provided much of what they needed and the rest was obtained from the insurgent attacks on the vampire stronghold where they stole the rest of what they needed. But only what they needed.

However there were others
, as there had been for time immemorial, that decided there was a third option; one where it was easier to steal, by force, from those that had, rather than struggle to support their own. There now seemed to be an ever increasing number of bandits and lawless individuals that had grouped together to take the easy option of stealing and sometimes worse, rather than try and build a viable, sustainable community.

Then there were the dangers that lay further out. Although not common, they had heard news of the things that lived, if that were the right word,
on the fringes; things that might once have been human, but that were now far less so. This meant that they had to spend time watching not only the city, but also remain aware of possible attacks that came from all sides, at all times. It brought a level of nervousness and unease that threatened to become almost unbearable.

             
It was with some of these thoughts running through his mind that Jake headed through the back streets, unconsciously always checking his surroundings, always careful that he was not being followed, just in case, towards the church, that sat right at the centre of their community, and the crypt within.

It was
inky dark in the Crypt, the large space only being lit by two old oil lamps that provided nothing more than a feeble attempt at illumination. Angry shadows flickered across the walls and the heavy wooden door that sat far away and almost out of sight in the darkness at one end. In the middle of the room was a large stone tomb, covered with maps and other debris that was currently acting as a makeshift, if somewhat inappropriate, table.

Around this
makeshift table, oblivious to the heresy, were clustered four men, like phantoms in the lamplight. Acrid smoke hung in the dense air, generated by a tall wiry man holding a cigarette loosely in one hand as he spoke. He stood at just over six feet two, but was so thin he appeared much taller. His hair was pulled tightly back into a greasy ponytail that was tied with a thin coil of silver wire. He went by the name of Lano and as he spoke he was unable to keep an edge of frustration out of his voice.

‘Look Nathan, I
’m just saying that I think Max has a point. Things are getting worse, much worse. We’ve had three attempted raids this month alone. More than we used to get in perhaps a year. Something's changed I tell you. Something’s spooked them, real bad. So maybe it is time we took the fight to them, rather than just wait for the inevitable.’

When he spoke he addressed his remarks to floor although they were clearly intended for the man that stood
directly opposite him.

The man that he couldn’t
quite look in the eye was Nathan. He stood at the other end of the tomb, watching Lano closely and listening quietly, his pale and intelligent eyes not moving from Lano’s face once. It was this calm dispassionate, unwavering stare that had the effect of ensuring Lano’s focus stayed resolutely on the thick stone slabs under his feet.

When Lano had finished
speaking, Nathan allowed a heavy silence to descend in the crypt. The only sound came from the hungry flames of the old oil lamps as they sucked greedily at the musty air.

Slowly Nathan shifted his stocky frame; he stretched his back, the clicks popping audibly in the damp room. He looked older than his fifty years would have suggested. His hair, which had turned a pure white when he was only in his late teens, was only now beginning to thin. He glanced between Lano and Max, a well-built man standing to Lano’s right. Nathan noted with interest, but not surprise, that it was this man, rather than Lano
who waited expectantly for his answer. Max was in his early twenties; his light brown hair was tightly cropped and he watched Nathan closely as he absently chewed on an unlit cigar that hung loosely from the corner of his mouth.

Nathan, having stretched his back,
then rubbed his neck slowly before attempting any reply. Finally he looked away from Max and centred his gaze on Lano. His eyes were sad but remained full of power. To look into those eyes was to know instantly that they belonged to someone who had seen much, perhaps too much, in their time.

‘I understand what Max has been saying Lano, but it’s still too dangerous. We’re simply not strong enough yet. Most of our resources are concentrated on protecting
what we have and feeding our own.’ He glanced quickly at Max, as if expecting a response before continuing. ‘Look, as long as we all keep our heads down and don’t provoke their wrath, they’ll continue to leave us alone. You know if they ever really felt we posed a viable threat they’d…’

‘- They’d what?
There’s not even that many of them left.’ It was Max that spoke now and you could sense the latent anger in his words.

Nathan sighed.

‘Max, you, better than most, know they don’t need that many. If they ever felt we were a real threat, then they’d hunt us down, each and every one of us and then they’d kill us all. Even with the numbers they have.’

‘So we just carry on hiding, is that it?’

‘For the moment, yes, we carry on hiding,’ replied Nathan calmly although his eyes burned brightly, ‘because that way, we might just stay alive.’

‘Alive? For what?’ Max retorted
bitterly.

Nathan frowned, ‘Look Max, I know what you’d like to do, but the time just isn’t right. Not yet.’

Max stared at him, his eyes hard. By his side Lano continued his close inspection of the ground, his eyes fixed resolutely on the tips of his shoes.

‘The problem is Nathan, that according to you, it never is
.’

Nathan didn’t take his eyes off Max as he responded with a small sigh.

‘Then, Max, perhaps it never is.’

‘You know what I think?’ growled Max, a flush rising in his face.

It was at that moment the forth figure spoke. His voice like gravel as it cut through the air.

‘Everyone knows what you think son. Don’t make you right though’.

Max turned to face the voice. The man that had spoken was known simply as Trent, and he returned the younger man’s stare with steady, cold, ice blue eyes. His weathered face showed every one of his fifty-five years as he broke into a smile, but it was a smile not mirrored in the slightest by those eyes.

Max opened his mouth
, and then hesitated, ‘Look Trent…’

Trent’s cold eyes
narrowed slightly, daring Max to say another word. He didn’t.

Long seconds passed before Trent continued, ‘At the end of the day, its Nathan who has the final say, and just in case it’s slipped your mind,
it’s his leadership that has kept us safe for an awful long time. As far as I’m concerned it’s his call and our job, as the leaders of this community, to support him. That my friend is what’s meant by a democracy.’ He leant forward then, his hands flat to the stone slab, his cold eyes boring deep into Max’s. ‘It’s the little things like that, which make us different from
them.’
The last word was spat out, dripping with pure venom and an even, cold hatred.

Trent relaxed his shoulders, stood back, and threw a casual glance toward Nathan.

‘Okay,’ continued Nathan, ‘let’s move on.’

Meanwhile
, across town in the old United Nations Building, a different sort of meeting was underway. In stark contrast to the drab, dark, cold and dusty surroundings of the resistance stronghold this meeting took place in what might be best described as worn splendour. Ornate furniture sat sprinkled around, while real electric light, although slightly dim and with a definite flicker, illuminated the faded gold leaf on the cornice.

             
Two figures stood in deep discussion. Both were vampires, powerfully built, but one was significantly larger than the other. However it was the smaller of the two vampires that commanded by far the greater presence. His name was Karick and he was the vampire Overlord and head of the vampire council. This made him the second most powerful vampire after their overall ruler; Queen Amadus. The massive demon that stood with him was Lord Voltan, Karick’s second in command and his most loyal follower.

Theirs was a friendship that had developed over seventy years
before, when they had faced each other in battle. Voltan had been overconfident and completely beaten had almost paid the ultimate price. However, Karick had chosen to let him live, seeing something worth saving and from this strange beginning a fierce loyalty had developed. It was a loyalty that had grown ever stronger over the years and had seen the two of them face many enemies, standing together shoulder to shoulder. Now both trusted each other implicitly and each would give their very lives to protect the other without a moment’s hesitation.

Although t
he vampire council had been in existence for centuries, it had only been since the War that it had matured into something approaching a formal structure. Originally created to provide support and guidance to the head of the nation, the vampire Queen, it now ran what remained of New York, managing the various programmes required to make a city function.

I
n truth the Council had originally been designed to provide some element of control against the overbearing dominance of the Queen, who for years, before the Council’s inception, had become almost uncontrollable. Many thought she was insane, but none would speak those words out loud, or even think them in her presence. For centuries she had remained hell bent on starting a war with all of mankind, even though it would have meant certain destruction for the vampires themselves. It had been the council that had managed to resist her blood lust. But that was before the War. Before the destruction that had ended so much, including Man’s dominance on Earth. Now the Council had different priorities having been tasked with something that it had never imagined before - creating a society, one that could survive and prosper in what remained of the new world.

As Overlord and head of the council
, Karick had risen to the task. He was now feared and respected as one of the greatest vampire leaders of all time. However it was no secret that his leadership worried the Queen, many believing she felt threatened. And Karick knew that the Queen’s paranoia had been fed and capitalised on by some of his most determined enemies. Enemies who wanted to unseat him and take power for themselves.

‘You say that more humans have disappeared,’ Karick was saying to Voltan
as he shook his head. ‘I think it’s time we had a word with the Mayor. In fact I think it is time that we call a meeting of the full council.’

‘I shall make the necessary arrangemen
ts, my Lord,’ replied Voltan in a voice that was both deep and powerful.

Suddenly t
he doors behind them swung sharply open and both vampires span quickly, their jaws distended, their teeth bared.  Voltan’s eyes narrowed and he balled his fists. Behind him Karick relaxed, raising an eyebrow at the pale skinned vampire with long blond hair, his sallow skin stretched over his sharp features, as he entered the room.

‘What is the meaning of this interruption, Rodan?’
hissed Karick, before realising that the interloper was not alone.

S
tepping swiftly to one side Rodan bowed his head as a strikingly beautiful female vampire entered behind him. She was pursued by two more female vampires close behind. As she approached, both Karick and Voltan knelt before their Queen.

Her
dark hair was silken, lustrous and long. Her sharp features gave her an almost hypnotic beauty as she glided across the room. She was dressed in the richly embroidered and elegant clothes that belonged very much in a bygone era. Slowly she looked between the two bowed figures at her feet.

‘I apologise for the intrusion
, Overlord Karick,’ she whispered without a hint at any conviction, ‘however Lord Rodan has informed me of terrible things that are of great concern. I understand that the unrest we spoke about before not only continues to grow, but that human stock is now vanishing as well. Lord Rodan also informs me that the council is starting to feel uneasy about the lack of progress in putting this to an end. What assurances are you able to offer me that might lessen my concern?’ She asked in a voice that was both powerful and strangely seductive at the same time.

Overlord Karick raised his head and looked up into the Queen’s soulless eyes
, unable to stop the thought that slid briefly through into his mind of how those eyes, as undeniably beautiful as they were, reminded him of two black pools of death.

‘My Lady, I was not expecting you.’ He shot a look of pure venom at Rodan who failed to conceal a lopsided smile
that caused another thought to flash through Karick’s mind, one where he would rip Rodan’s throat out and wipe the smug look off his pale, pointed face for good. Rodan caught Karick’s piercing gaze and barely stifled a laugh.

‘Well?’ repeated the Queen. ‘I’m waiting for an answer.’

Karick paused, considering his words very carefully before replying. He had long understood that the Queen wished to change the age-old constitution, removing the council completely, allowing her full control. He knew the vampires would not stand for that, a council was part of the constitution and that was that. But if she could remove him, specifically, well that was a different matter. If she succeeded in that aim, he knew it would weaken the Vampire council. To do that she would need a reason, not necessarily a very good one, but a reason nonetheless, something he was determined not to give her

He
had been walking a dangerous path for some time now, challenging her views. He couldn’t afford to put a foot wrong, or lose his composure in anyway, in case it provided her with that reason.

Rodan
’s thin tongue flicked around his lips as he watched carefully, waiting for Karick’s response, hoping for a mistake, wanting nothing more than Karick to be removed as Overlord because the Queen had decided he had lost his ability to maintain control of the City.

Karick smiled,
he knew that the vampire who hankered for his position more than anything was currently standing no more than four feet away. So instead of saying what he wanted to he didn’t rise to the bait and smiled instead, showing the tips of his fangs, whilst he replied in as reasoned and calm a voice as he could muster.

‘I am sure Lord Rodan has already said more than enough. There
fore there is probably little I can add, my Queen. All I can offer is my personal assurance that things are in hand and that order will be maintained.’