Vampire Apocalypse: A World Torn Asunder (Book 1) (23 page)

His luck had run out when he was
eighteen. An armed robbery had gone wrong. The guy with him
panicked and shot an off-duty cop. There was no hiding for cop
killers. None of his “friends” would touch him; and it wasn’t long
before the cops caught up with him. It also didn’t take the jury
long to convict him. His lifestyle had given him a callousness and
indifference to his fellow man that was immediately obvious and
attractive to the men in suits who visited him in prison. They
talked about National Security and the need for a certain type of
person who could perform certain difficult jobs. Steele really
didn’t care; if it got him out of prison he’d go back and kill his
own father for them, in fact he’d do that for free. They offered
him a deal and he accepted. After three years of muscle tearing and
bone breaking training and undercover missions he was a very
dangerous man indeed.

He had been told that his
parents had died a few months before energy crisis had really taken
hold. A car accident he was told. He felt nothing when he had been
given the news, no hatred, no sorrow, but he had come looking for
his sister who was still only eleven and, rather than let he go
into an orphanage, he had taken her with him back to the camp. Not
that he had much choice anyway as she kept running away from any
homes she had been sent to and kept turning up at his camp
demanding to see him. He had requested and received permission for
her to live at the camp with him and those had been the happiest
times Steele could ever remember.

They had quickly bonded again,
despite their long separation, but once the war had started he had
been far too busy infiltrating the vampire nests and thrall camps
to spend much time with her. He ensured that confusion reigned in
the covens and slowed the vampires' inexorable advances by
promoting infighting and fearful uncertainty. And while he was out
trying to save humanity his little sister had been raped and killed
by men in his own platoon. They had tried to cover it up by telling
him that she had been involved in a terrible accident and she had
been buried in a closed casket before he had returned because they
did not know when he would get back from his mission. While it was
true that his missions sometimes took far longer than they were
originally scheduled for he felt cheated that he had not been at
her funeral. This frustration soon turned to guilt for not being
there and his superiors noted that his missions were beginning to
suffer as he became less focused and more prone to mistakes.

To try to bring him back to
himself they sent him to counselling and it was at this point that
he began to suspect that all was not right with the story of his
sister’s death. Everyone he talked to seemed to have the same
story. Exactly the same story. It was as if they had learned the
words from the same script.

He began to investigate in
earnest and a few cracked heads and broken limbs later he finally
got to the truth. Four Special Forces grunts had come calling while
he was out on a mission. They had been drunk and had decided to
stay and have some fun with his sister. Things had gotten out of
hand and she had resisted. He had thought her how to defend herself
and she had hurt them before they had raped her and knocked her
about. They had left her after they had finished and she had died
sometime during the night from internal bleeding. Had they called
an ambulance she would have survived.

One of the men involved was the
son of a General and he had covered up what had happened by abusing
his power. Steele had been betrayed all his life and this latest
betrayal convinced him that humans were just not worth saving. He
had found and killed all of the men involved in the most violent
and painful way he could imagine and then he had strolled into the
General’s office and beheaded him in front of a delegation from
Washington.

He had simply disappeared then,
easily escaping the camp using the very training that the army had
given him against them. He had been consumed with rage and hatred
for his fellow humans and he had infiltrated the nearest thrall
camp, made his way through their woefully inadequate guards and
announced his presence by throwing the General’s head at the
commander’s feet and offering his skills. Over the next few months
he forced himself not to think about what he was doing. Each time
he killed he did so with a calm ruthlessness but saw only the faces
of his sister’s killers with each life that he took. In all the
time he had worked for the vampires he had never killed an innocent
and always did his best to spare all the women and children he
could. Now though, his rage was no longer as consuming as it had
been and he had begun to wonder what his sister would think of what
he had become. Somehow he didn’t think she would approve.

Steele suddenly shrugged and
turned away with a smile. “Okay, boss, what do you want me to do?”
he asked of the vampire.

“I want this cell of resistance
found and crushed. You can have whatever you need, resources,
thralls, anything.”

“Are these the same guys who
kicked your ass last month?” Steele asked innocently.

The look Nero gave him was
beyond withering, and he wondered briefly if he had finally gone
too far. He was surprised to note that he almost wished he had. The
last few years had made him tired and lately he had begun to yearn
for something, he wasn’t sure what, but he felt empty inside. No,
it was more that. He felt incomplete. This sort of thing had never
happened to him before. Whatever it was, he didn’t like how it
felt. He was aware of pushing his masters that little bit further
of late, but couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“You tread a very thin line,
human. I hope that you are still smiling at the completion of this
mission. If you fail, believe me, I will enjoy watching you beg for
death.” With that, Nero stormed off and quickly disappeared in to
the growing darkness.

Steele watched him go
impassively.

“Are you sure?” Dan Harrington
asked incredulously.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Pat Smith
replied. “It will have wildly varying time frames depending on
people’s metabolisms but, basically, the end result will be the
same.”

“Is there a cure?” Crockett
asked.

“I’m afraid the only way to
reduce the build-up of these chemicals in the brain is to stop
taking them. Then, over time, the body will erode the excess.”

The committee was stunned.
Silence reigned as people just looked at each other, not quite
knowing what they should say. Sandra felt tears in the corner of
her eyes when she thought of all the children and their terrible
fate.

“Well, at least it answers your
question.” Father Reilly broke the silence. Sandra turned to him,
relieved to have a new focus. He addressed his comment directly to
her father. “You were looking for a goal, something to strive for
in the face of our changed circumstances. I believe we have
one.”

“What I said at the beginning of
this meeting still stands: the thralls will be ready next time
…”

“Dan,” Father Reilly
interrupted, “children are going to start dying in agony any time
now. We can’t save everyone, but if we are going to sit here and
let it happen, without at least trying to help those we can. Then
what exactly are we fighting for?”

“With all due respect, Father,”
her father continued, “for all we know this could be the only free
human community left. We must look at the bigger picture and the
survival of the human race. We can’t just throw lives away …”

“Dad,” Sandra saw him turn his
attention toward her. “What would you do if I was still in there?”
She knew that the question was harsher than he deserved, but they
couldn’t just ignore this information.

“That’s unfair, Sandra.” She
looked into her father’s eyes. She had always seen him as a larger
than life figure. Even in the time he wasn’t around, she thought of
him as aloof, unfazed by life’s turmoil and steady as a rock
against any adversity. As she looked into his eyes now she could
see that the pressure of running the community and the decisions he
had to make were taking their toll.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered and
turned her eyes from his, unable to bear the sadness she saw there
any longer.

“Actually, I agree with Dan.”
Harris’ss voice was weak. Everyone leaned forward to hear. Sandra
was surprised that support for her father had come from Harris. He
tended to disagree with him as naturally as breathing.

“We can’t continue as we have up
to now. We’ll be slaughtered.” Harris paused to let his words sink
in. “The element of surprise is gone, but that doesn’t mean we have
to sit here and do nothing. We must adapt, change our strategy. If
they expect a frontal assault then we go in the back way. If they
expect a small raid, then we attack in force--and the first thing
we have to do is blow up the hospital where they produce that
shit.”

Steele walked into the barracks
and smiled at the frantic activity around him. Thralls rushed
everywhere, attempting to repair damage to walls and equipment and
get departments re-activated after the assault. He reached out and
grabbed a passing thrall.

“Who’s in charge around
here?”

“General Evans, sir. He’s over
there,” the thrall replied and indicated a large, heavy-set man
supervising the erection of an office wall. Steele muttered an
appreciative response and approached the General.

“General Evans, I presume.” The
general whirled with surprising speed for one so large and, after a
second, his face registered recognition.

“So you’re Steele,” he stated.
An infectious smile spread across his face. “Your reputation
precedes you. Indeed, I’ve even seen some vampires act sheepish at
the mention of your name. Welcome to hell.”

Steele smiled, instantly liking
this bear of a man. “Thank you, General.”

“Oh, don’t be so formal. It’s
Jack.” The general thrust out his hand and enclosed Steele’s in a
vice-like grip. “I’m only a general since yesterday when Nero flew
into a rage and disembowelled the entire ruling council. Between
you and me,” Evans looked from side to side conspiratorially, “I’ll
probably only be a general until his next ranting session, so make
it quick.”

Steele was shocked at this until
he saw Evan’s grin split even wider. “I think I’m going to enjoy
working with you, Jack.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Looks like a well orchestrated
attack.” Steele indicated the carnage surrounding them.

“Wasn’t it just? You have to
admire them don’t you? They timed it well and even took out a tank
before getting clean away. Not a trace, I believe.” Evans
laughed.

“You don’t seem particularly
worried,” Steele observed.

“Well now, Steele, way I see it
the vampires may own my body, but my soul still belongs to me. I
will follow their orders, God help me, but I don’t have to like
them.”

“That’s pretty treasonous talk.
I could get you executed for half of what you’ve just said.”

“Yes, you could,” Evans
answered, “but I pride myself on the ability to judge a character
from the get go, and I reckon I’ve judged you right. There’s also
the fact that I couldn’t care less, of course.”

The two men looked at each other
for a long time. Steele knew the risk both of them were taking and
recognised the force of will this man must have to be able to talk
like this despite his thrall to the vampires. Steele had argued
when he had met the coven leader a year ago that making him a
thrall would inhibit his own effectiveness and ability to
infiltrate human camps. The fact that he had been deep inside the
Vampire territory before he had been found lent quite a lot of
substance to this argument. He had succeeded in convincing the
coven and had never been bound to a vampire, but he knew the level
of control that the vampires could exert over their thralls. To
even think those thoughts, let alone voice them, showed how strong
this man’s character was.

Finally, Steele nodded slightly
and continued. “The supplies they took will only last them for a
short time so we can expect more attacks before long.”

“No doubt. Any ideas on where
they’ll hit next.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.
I noticed from the report that they took a prisoner.”

“Yes,” Evans replied, “one of
the technicians from the hospital, that’s where they produce the
…”

“Serum,” Steele finished. “Yes,
I know.”

Chapter 23

Scott Anderson and Ken Rodgers
slipped quietly over the rubble and melted into the shadows of the
city. They had been surprised that the hole left from their
previous excursion had not been repaired. A board nailed to each
jagged end of the wall was the only deterrent. Of course, the
thralls were in a much higher state of awareness than ever before,
but the three guards had been dispatched easily enough in the
end.

The city was quiet; the cold
evening air caused fog to rise from the water at the docks and gave
a surreal look to the whole area.

“Looks like something out of an
old horror movie.” Rodgers grinned and Anderson threw his eyes up
to heaven.

“I knew it was a mistake to
bring you. Can’t you take anything seriously?”

“Beer and women, after that I
pretty much lose interest.” Both men grinned this time.

Darkness had just fallen but the
horizon still glowed weakly as the sun sank beyond the cityscape.
The committee had decided that the thralls would probably expect
them to attack at dawn when they had usually attacked in the past.
It made far more sense to attack when the vampires were tucked up
for the day, however, the thralls would now be at a far higher
alert setting. For that reason, they decided on an evening raid.
While it was absolutely more dangerous to try and operate when the
vampires were awake, they hoped that the vampires would consider it
madness to try anything at night and that the thralls would assume
that the vampires were in control at night. With any luck the
resulting confusion would make the chances of success better. Of
course, it was a huge gamble.