Trail of Tears (28 page)

Though, his thralls did not appear to have
been infected with the same lust for freedom. Of course, he treated
them better than Von Kruger. Somehow Von Kruger had discovered a
way for vampires to walk in sunlight and that changed everything.
His own thrall forces would not be able to hold back Von Kruger’s
cabal if they attacked in daylight and all Flynn could do was hide
and hope he wasn’t found. And that was unacceptable.

He signalled for his small party of
vampires. They looked nervously at the crack of light on the
horizon heralding the oncoming dawn but Flynn glared at them, and
they dropped their eyes. If he was to stand a chance against Von
Kruger, he had to understand how he had managed to survive in
sunlight. The fact that such a large number of vampires were
heading on masse somewhere was proof enough that they were planning
something. He would be there to see it played out. Once he knew Von
Kruger’s secret he would not be taken by surprise the next time.
What his cabal did not understand was that the oncoming dawn would
be the least of their problems if Von Kruger was allowed to take
control of the day as well as the night.

The four of them rose silently into the air
after the huge black cloud. Behind him two of his Lieutenants
remained and then sped off back towards their lines. They would
send the word out to the rest of his cabal and his thralls. The
time had come to play all their cards. He would risk pulling his
forces from his far borders and fortify here where the risk was
greatest. He had never been a gambler, but it was time go all in or
risk losing it all. Of course, if he won, he would win it all and
that certainly appealed to him.

* * *

Von Kruger surged through the air, the faint
prickling of the weak sunlight on his skin reminding of a time when
he had been ruled by that powerful orb in the sky. But no longer.
The vampires around him began to fly faster as the light burned
their skin. It was a mere annoyance this early, but it would not be
long before flesh would be seared from their bones.

Ahead he could see the pulsing of the fires
from the old plant. The heat and the radiation were still there but
for how long he did not know. He also did not know how long he
could survive without the radiation baths. He had gone three days
without any ill effects or need to feed but he would have to plan
for their next food station soon.

He flew down into the ruined area, barely
noticing the devastation and corruption the radiation had wrought
on the surrounding area—devastation for the living—but this sickly
and feared fallout had offered him a new beginning. In death there
was a rebirth of sorts.

His cabal followed him blindly, exposing
themselves to the deadly, invisible rays. Some reacted immediately
and fell screaming in agony into the smouldering ruins below,
others laughed and flew over the rubble and upwards into the light
of the sun. Others still managed to make their way through the
gauntlet of death but, as they rose into the air, they did not cry
with joy. Instead their flesh grew mottled as the radiation
corrupted their organs. Sunlight burned them from the outside and
the radiation seared them from within.

Many faltered long before they rose high
enough to burn; while others limped into the air, hoping their
bodies would adjust and accept this new existence only to cry out
in pain and fall to the ruins below. Von Kruger did not count those
who fell. They were not important. The attrition rate was high but
the rewards would be higher still. He did note that there were
fewer than he had hoped though. He caught the eye of Ventredi but
ignored the Lieutenant’s worried frown. He was committed to this
road. He had hoped to survive the gauntlet with fifty augmented
vampires. Fifty would carve him an empire. Fifty out of over two
hundred? Surely that was not too many to ask for.

As he led those who survived up into the
morning light, he cast a worried glance behind him. He did not
count the number who followed him but his impression was that there
were far fewer than fifty.

* * *

Flynn watched in growing horror as the
streams of vampires pitched into the ruins of the nuclear fires.
Radiation was Von Kruger’s secret. Who would have thought that such
a feared horror could cure the vampire of their greatest weakness?
But at what cost? Hundreds had flown into the burning embers but so
few had flown out the other side. Von Kruger was taking a huge
risk. Should he risk his own life and those of his cabal to match
Von Kruger or could he weather the storm of Von Kruger’s daylight
attacks?

Sunlight was his enemy. If he left his
vampires as they were, then Von Kruger would decimate his thralls
during the day. No one would be able to stand up to him, even with
so few soldiers. But dare he risk everything? Was he prepared to
find out if he too would survive or would he pitch puking and
rotting into the ruins below?

The morning light was growing stronger and
he could feel the pain of his skin burning as the first rays
caressed his exposed flesh. He had to decide quickly or he would be
caught out in the open and it would be too late for either
path.

“I will take one other with me into the
radiation cloud,” he said.

The vampires pulled away from him in the
air, but their fear of him was greater than their terror of death
from below.

“You others return to the cabal and tell
them of this discovery. If we survive we will join you. If not,
prepare for Von Kruger. You do not have long. For what it is worth,
my advice would be to risk half your forces to the radiation so you
have some defence during the day.”

He turned abruptly and flew down into the
cloud. It was not bravery, he knew. If he stayed any longer he knew
he would return to camp and all would be lost in the not too
distant future. He really had no choice if he wanted to survive. He
refused to cower in hiding during the day hoping that Von Kruger
and his forces did not find them. The fire of the sun began to
blacken his skin and the agony inside grew. It was like he was
boiling from within. Was this a good sign or had he left it too
late. He closed his eyes and flew onward into the ruins and hoped
for deliverance.

* * *

Harris watched McAteer trot for ten steps
then walk for ten before picking up the pace again. Harris was
leaning over trying to catch his breath after running for the last
few hundred yards. His lungs burned and his legs felt like rubber
after struggling through the snow drifts. Warkowski was in similar
shape beside him. McAteer trotted past them with a smile on his
face and saluted exaggeratedly.

“It’s about stamina not speed, Harris,”
McAteer called over his shoulder and Harris grunted as he struggled
to catch up. “The English invented this,” McAteer continued as
Harris fell in step with him. “You can travel twice as fast as
walking but don’t get exhausted from running constantly. Quite
clever really. They marched through Spain and France to kick
Napoleon’s butt this way.” Harris was amazed as his heart slowed
its mad tempo and his muscles stopped aching.

They were very exposed here and for the
first time that night Harris wished it would snow again, but the
clouds were already clearing to reveal a bright blue that mocked
him. It would take Carter a while to sort out his vehicles but not
that long. They tried to keep to the heavier drifts which slowed
them down but would make tracking them in a vehicle impossible.

“Do you think we bought them enough time?”
Harris looked over at McAteer whose previous smile had been
replaced by a worried frown.

“I don’t know.”

Harris sighed a little breathlessly as they
broke into another trot. “Without the wounded, I would have said
they were already on the train wondering where we are but there
were so many wounded, and they would have to stop too often to
treat them. I really don’t know.”

The men continued on in silence, each one
weighed down with their own worries. Most of the men had family in
the desperate caravan ahead. Harris’ thoughts were dominated by his
worry for Sandra. Was she still alive or had the journey proved too
much for her? The last few years had been busy with survival and
saving those he could save. Now he wondered if it had been worth
the sacrifice.

For the remaining humans their time had now
run out. All over the world, or wherever they used the serum at
least, humans were already dying if Pat’s timetable was accurate.
He had done all he could. If his own team and the community
survived this night, then the time had come for him to concentrate
on
those
people. No more risks. No more mad missions. He
looked up at the sky and sent a silent prayer that Sandra would
make it and that he would be given a chance to show her how much he
loved her. His heart suddenly skipped a beat. He couldn’t ever
remember telling her that he loved her. Surely he had? Had he been
so wrapped up in others that he had ignored her to that extent? He
was certain that she knew he loved her but knowing was different to
being told.

He resolved to tell her the moment he
stepped on the train. No matter what was happening he vowed. From
now on he would put her first. He just hoped that he hadn’t left it
too late.

* * *

Aiden Flemming looked into the fuel area and
sighed. Danny Wilkins and the other children had found every scrap
of coal and wood that was to be had, including a secreted cache
obviously stolen for personal use by a night-watchman. But it was
nowhere near enough. It would get them out of the city...probably
even to the next state, but then they would run out in the middle
of nowhere, isolated and vulnerable.

He had poured over every map he could find.
One particularly good map was stretched over a table in front of
him at this very moment. He had found it in an old office and it
showed every rail track in the county. He never realised there were
so many. Of course, many were so small he suspected they were long
disused and might be impassable. Others, still, would be blocked
with useless modern engines clutching desperately upwards at the
long dead electrical lines that had once fed them.

He had to prioritise. He knew for a fact
that the main line into Carter’s territory was clear because they
had used it in their escape. But that would only bring them deeper
into Carter’s clutches. He traced a line from the city that cut to
the border between Carter’s territory and that which was once
called Illinois. From there it joined a huge spider network of
tracks that spread onwards to the west and the south of the
country. If they could get that far they could lose themselves in
the myriad choices. Only aerial reconnaissance would find them. He
knew that Carter did have helicopters but the fuel for those
guzzling machines was far too precious to waste scouring the
country.

Of course, to get that far they would have
to refuel along the way. He looked for areas with heavy forests
close to the tracks and found one forty miles from the border and
the start of the terminus where they could lose themselves. It
would be close. If Carter was chasing them, he could follow them
easily along the single track they were stuck on. But, if they
could manage to get far enough ahead to stock up on wood from the
forest then they might just make it. Of course, burning freshly cut
wood would leave a very smoky trail but they had no choice. They
had to burn something and there were no alternatives.

He traced the line for the hundredth time.
Could they make it that far with enough of a lead to be able to
stop? The freeway was less direct than the rail line. During its
construction there had obviously been pressure to join many towns
and the freeway meandered wildly taking anyone using it on a
journey that would eat up many more miles than the arrow straight
rail line. Carter would also struggle with his tanks so they might
just do it.

He had already sent the eager Danny Wilkins
and his intrepid team of ‘Wolverines’ into the nearby commercial
sector to scavenge for saws, axes, even petrol saws if they could
find any fuel cans. If they had enough people cutting they just
might cut down on the time needed to get them far enough in the
maze of rail tracks to allow them to disappear. It was a desperate
gamble but it was all they had.

He carefully folded the map and put it into
a small leather satchel he carried. The maps would never leave his
possession. They were far too important. Harris had taken him aside
before he left and his revelations had shocked Flemming. Harris had
told him of the traitor and what they had done so far. Flemming was
only to trust the children.

Harris admitted that he didn’t know the
traitor’s agenda. It might be that their escape coincided with the
traitor’s own plans and that there would be no sabotage. But they
just didn’t know. Flemming had kept to himself for the last two
days and had kept the adults as busy as he could, loading and
preparing for the others. But now they were ready and the thought
of someone with the time to plot some terrible ‘accident’ or
sabotage that would get them all killed left him shaken. The maps
would remain with him until Harris arrived. He looked out into the
snowy landscape for some evidence that the others had made it. The
storm had stopped, but the wind still drove the top layer of the
fallen snow into his face and made his eyes water.

The city looked somehow cleaner with the
snow covering the damage and rot beneath. It was like a healthy
body rotting beneath healthy skin. He saw three small figures
lumbering through the snow and smiled as he recognised Danny
Wilkins and the others laden down with a huge pile of equipment on
their sleigh. He shouted orders and a number of adults, bored with
their inactivity, rushed to their aid. The men lifted the children
up onto their shoulders while the others pulled the sleigh over to
the train. There were whoops of laughter and delight but Flemming
could not laugh with them. His view of these people had been
forever tainted with the secret Harris had laid upon him. He wished
that Harris had left him ignorant. He never asked to lead. But
Harris would only rely on those he knew he could trust and he did
feel a swell of pride that he was one of Harris’ trusted
inner-circle.