Vampire Apocalypse: A World Torn Asunder (Book 1) (3 page)

“Does that mean we’re dealing
with an animal?” The question came from the centre of the room and
Doc Sallis squinted through the smoky haze to identify the
speaker.

“No, John, it does not,” he
replied, identifying the town’s local Century representative. “No
animal would kill like this without eating some of the victim, or
at the very least leaving teeth marks on the remains. These poor
people were torn apart for reasons other than food or territorial
dispute, so that lays my suspicions firmly at the door of humanity,
I’m afraid.”

“But you said that the strength
needed was too much for a human, Doctor.”

“For a normal human, yes.
However, these days there are so many drugs and enhancements
available that the human body is quite capable of amazing feats
over limited periods. We are dealing with someone very sick but
very clever. There were no forensics left at the scene, at least
none that I can process with our limited resources. There is no
sign of forced entry, and seemingly no pattern, all the victims
were unrelated as far as we can see.”

“Did they know their
killer?”

The question was a simple one
but the implications it carried immediately silenced the low hush
of whispers that had begun as everyone waited for an answer.

“That is a good question but I’m
afraid I’m not the one to answer it. I think this is a good point
to hand over to our Sheriff.”

Newton nodded and approached the
podium. He was all too aware that every eye in the building was on
him and he forced himself to breath evenly as he turned to face the
crowd. He was good with people, but on a one-to-one basis. Crowds
were a totally different matter, and petrified crowds were even
worse.

“We have a small community here,
one that’s growing smaller in the current climate. There have been
no visitors to the town for at least two weeks, no sightings of
vagrants, travelling peddlers or officials in or near the town at
all. I am not aware of any people who have recently come to live
here, or indeed any who are visiting friends or families. Each
victim was found in their home with no obvious signs of forced
entry and no evidence of robbery.” He paused briefly and then
sighed, “I suppose what I’m trying to say is that all evidence so
far indicates that the killer was known to each of the
victims.”

A gasp rippled through the
audience. People looked around them fearfully as if looking for
someone with a sign over their head proclaiming them to be the
killer. In seconds a community united in fear and hardship became a
dysfunctional collection of smaller groups as families closed
ranks, individuals were ostracised and women pulled their children
closer and looked with suspicion at any male in the room. Chairs
screeched across hard wooden floors as people began to physically
replicate the groups that their minds had already created. All this
happened in seconds; years of community building were shattered
through fear and mistrust.

“Order!” The word was followed
by the gavel pounding on the podium and everyone’s attention was
drawn back to Newton as he raised the gavel for another strike only
to freeze and lower it gently as order was restored.

“Sit down!” he shouted as people
used to a quiet, mild-mannered Sheriff flopped immediately into
their chairs in shock. “I must admit that I counselled against
telling you that but our good mayor has more faith in you and your
ties to our community than I have. How dare you. This is exactly
what the killer wants. By dividing us he makes it easier for him to
find new victims. The only way to beat him is to remain united. He
can’t kill us all if we stay together.”

“Oh I don’t know about
that.”

The words came from the back of
the hall and carried with them an icy wind that poured through the
open doors.
A figure stood just inside the now
open doors, and as people turned to look they noticed a number of
shadows dart quickly into the hall and fan out along the back
wall.

“Who the hell are you?” Fogarty
stood and faced the figure, his voice loud and strong, although the
slightly higher pitch betrayed his fear.

“Oh my God, it’s Johnnie,” a
woman towards the back of the hall shrieked and rose with open arms
and hurried towards one of the figures at the back of the hall. Her
husband rose and grabbed at her but she pulled away and stumbled
towards the figure.

Newton placed his hand on his
holstered gun and moved away from the podium.

“Who are you?” His tone carried
with it a quiet authority and menace that many of the people
present had never heard before. His eyes flicked briefly at Jess
and he nodded once and then looked directly at the central figure.
Jess moved to the side to ensure she had a clear view and brought
her hand up to her radio and spoke in low tones.

“Mary, stay back” Newton ordered
but the woman paid no attention and continued towards the figure
where she threw her arms around him and buried her face in the
figure’s chest. The boy remained motionless and the whole room
stilled as if a pause button had been pressed. The woman’s sobs
continued but suddenly she began to retch. Her hand came up to her
lips but was too late to prevent the bile from spewing from her
mouth. Her sobs became whimpers as she doubled over and gasped for
air. She looked at the figure quizzically, her hand pressed firmly
against her mouth and nose. The object of her attention looked over
at the figure in the centre and raised an eyebrow. The figure
nodded once and the thing that had been Johnnie smiled.

The audience couldn’t really see
clearly and were still getting over the shock of the abrupt
appearance of these strange figures. The sudden scream from the
back of the room startled everyone. Johnnie grabbed the woman who
had raised him and tore her throat out, sucking greedily at the
spurting blood before letting her body fall to the ground where the
woman whimpered quietly for a moment before growing silent.

Newton couldn’t tell what had
happened but he saw the crowd at the back begin to surge away from
the figures at the end of the hall. The woman’s husband growled in
anger and threw himself forward. Newton missed what happened next
as the crowd shifted but he did see the man thrown against the back
wall with such force that he made no further noise as his body
slumped to the ground. He was losing control of this situation and
the townspeople were only seconds away from panic. Newton pulled
his gun from its holster and fired a round into the air. For the
third time that night the crowd froze. Too much had happened to
destroy their peaceful existence. The gun shot stopped them
initially but the smell coming from the back of the room soon had
people pushing towards the front again, albeit more slowly.

There was a clear fifteen feet
between the figures and the last line of the audience by the time
Newton reached the last of the stage steps and he pushed his way
through to the empty area. He held his gun firmly on the figure and
noted Jess taking up position to his left. His eyes flicked briefly
to Mary’s body and he scanned the faces of the figures. He
recognised all ten of the missing boys and was about to repeat his
question when the smell hit him.

He felt bile rise up his throat
as the odour reached him. It was sickly sweet, cloying and foul all
at once. He concentrated on the central figure again and forced
himself to be calm. He heard the sound of sirens wailing and
moments later he saw two patrol cars pull up outside beyond the
figure in front of him, and he straightened a little taller as he
saw his men approach through the open door.

“Okay, Johnnie, you’re under
arrest. Come over here and kneel on the floor now.” His tone was
controlled but he was petrified. What the hell was going on? A kid
he had known for years had just ripped his mother’s throat out and
then just stood calmly as if he had merely taken a bite from a
sandwich. Who was the guy in the centre and what the hell was that
smell? The questions ran through his mind threatening to overpower
him but he forced them all aside and tried to control the situation
by using his training.

“On the ground now,” he repeated
more forcefully and tightened his finger on the trigger.

“Sheriff,” the figure spoke
quietly, “this is really quite pointless, you know.” The man’s
soft, almost whispered, voice sent a shiver down Newton’s back.
Maybe it was the cold that swept through the open doors that had
his body shaking so badly, but he was truthful enough to admit to
himself that it was unlikely. His hands were sweating, making him
tighten his grip on the gun, and he clamped his teeth tightly
together to hide the fact that they had begun to chatter. He knew
himself well enough to know that he wasn’t a coward. He couldn’t
actually pin it down; maybe it was the figure’s apparent
indifference to having a gun pointed at him, or the way he
commanded the attention of everyone in the room, or even the stench
of death that emanated from him. But he could admit to himself that
this man terrified him.

“Cover me!” he nodded to Jess
and the deputies that had taken station at the door. He approached
Johnnie and almost threw up on the spot. He hadn’t actually seen
what had happened before, as his attention had been divided between
all the figures, so it was only as he reached the young man that he
could see the blood running down his mouth.

Johnnie smiled at him, revealing
long sharp teeth.

Newton suddenly and viciously
brought his weapon up and across Johnnie’s face. He knew that he
had surprised them as the figure had to bark a command to keep the
others from attacking him. Johnnie hit the ground hard but was back
on his feet faster than Newton could see. He felt the boy’s hand
grip his throat like a vice and suddenly found himself dangling in
mid air as his lungs gasped for air.

His felt light-headed and spots
of light danced in his vision. He dimly heard a shot and felt
himself crumple to the floor. He heard a second command from the
stranger and could almost feel the hatred emanating from the other
nine boys.

“Are you all right, Chief?”
Newton pulled himself to his feet and nodded to Jess as she offered
her help. It was only when he was standing again that he noticed
that Johnnie was on the ground. He had assumed that Jess had fired
a shot in the air but as he looked down at the figure he noticed a
neat hole in his forehead.

“Some shot,” he noted and
retrieved his own weapon. “Now I ...”

He was interrupted by a
shuffling on the floor and he paled as he saw Johnnie stir and then
rise to his feet. The blood oozing from the wound dried to a
trickle and then stopped altogether as the flesh around the wound
began to close and knit together as he watched.

“Oh shit,” his voice croaked
through his damaged throat. He pulled the trigger and fired
directly into Johnnie’s heart. He felt the gun buck in his hands
and saw the impact as blood spurted from the wound. Johnnie
staggered back but didn’t fall and Newton fired twice more before
he finally realised that it wasn’t doing any good.

“Do you see now, Sheriff?” the
figure smiled at him. Newton was dimly aware of the growing unease
in the crowd behind him. The situation was a hair trigger away from
total chaos. He had no idea what was going on but he knew that
whatever these men were, they certainly weren’t human. The wrong
move now would probably lead to total slaughter. His mind was in
turmoil, impossible thoughts of vampires and demons pulled at his
sanity, but everyone in the room was looking to him for direction.
He was damned if he would let them die for nothing. The creatures,
or whatever they were, had consciously not attacked them as yet,
despite the gunshots, and there must be a reason for that. The
figure in the centre was obviously the leader and had total control
of the boys. If there was any way out of this it would be through
him.

“What’s all this about
Mr...?”

“Names are unimportant,” the
figure smiled, “they are meaningless nonsense created by a short
lived race who spends too much of its limited life trying to become
immortal, in name if not in actuality. We have no need for
them.”

“What exactly is it that you do
need?”

“Right now,” the stranger
continued, “in thousands of towns all over the world, vampires such
as me are quietly taking this world away from your kind. One by one
the towns will fall to us and then we will begin on the cities. By
the time you even notice it will be too late.”

The news hit Newton like a blow.
His mind raced as pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “Then the
killings …”

“Were a necessary distraction,
yes.” The stranger finished. “Despite what Hollywood may tell you
the first few days of a vampire’s existence are a critical time.
They are weak as kittens as the change ravages their bodies. As you
can see, that weakness is short lived.”

“Why tell us this? You obviously
have the advantage, why not just slaughter us and move on?”

“Unlike you humans, we vampires
are a patient race. We have hidden for centuries from your kind
because we could see that you humans were dangerous. Because you
are so short lived you achieve amazing advances in short time
frames. It was decided long ago that this advancement, or
technology as you have dubbed it, would be dangerous to us. Over
the centuries we ensured that all references to our race were
removed and those that could not be removed were ridiculed and
reduced to myth.”

“We bided our time, but now that
technology has stagnated we will come from the shadows and take
what is ours.”

“All very interesting but why
are you telling us this?” Newton was sure there was an advantage
here, something that could very well allow them to bargain for some
or all of their lives. He just had to find it.