Vigil (7 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Fallon Corp.

Dining Hall

Level 2

All eyes turned to watch as Jean wheeled his chair to the top of the room. Rumour was rife. People knew bad news was coming.

Jean took the centre. To his right were Kappa and Samson, the military arm of the complex. To his left Sarah Chevalier and Benjamin Carpenter, the two heads of the science department.

Tom Fallon felt a little sorry for Sarah and Ben. The warriors got all the glory, while the scientists laboured away below ground, never allowed out because they were too valuable.

Tom was a scientist, but he was allowed topside. He could do what he wanted. He was afforded special status. No one liked him, but he kind of owned the building.

He’d inherited it from his father.

Nepotism at work through the ages.

His father’s company, Fallon Corp., had made huge advances in cybernetics, age reversal, immunised millions on the African continent from Malaria. They had eradicated the common cold, used nanotechnology to clear arteries in heart patients and fight tumours. By the time of the fall the technology was still too expensive for most, but it had begun to become commonplace. People’s life expectancy had gone up significantly.

There was plenty of less savoury research, but Tom hadn’t been a party to that. The company had made the bulk of its money from Biological Weapons and standard Weapons research.

Tom had always justified it in the context of the greater good. The big money items funded by military budgets allowed the advances in medical science.

Fallon Corp helped people to live longer by finding innovative ways to kill them.

With survival rates for cancer patients predicted to reach 75% for up to twenty years, the gradual eradication of heart disease, reduction on reliance on invasive surgical procedures, even the end of infections with booster technology for the body’s own immune systems…

If it hadn’t been the cure, Tom wondered if society would have just imploded anyway. People shouldn’t live forever.

Jean rapped on the table and everyone present turned from their own thoughts to the matter at hand.

‘Thank you all for coming. There have been some significant developments in the night and we must decide on a course of action.

‘Last night the vampires laid a trap for us.’ He held his hand up, but the room was in uproar. He was forced to shout to be heard. ‘Settle down! There’s more you need to hear!’ The noise gradually settled to murmurs.

Tom looked around. He didn’t like what he saw.

Not the determination that had helped their enclave to survive so long. Fear. Pure and naked.

‘Kappa,’ said Jean, ‘would you please explain what happened last night?’

Kappa, stoic in the face of vampires, paled as he was called on to speak before the assembly.

He cleared his throat.

‘At precisely 0100 hours my team retrieved three survivors from topside. We used background fire to blind any vampires who might be observing. We were reliably informed over the microphones by one of the survivors that this was a distinct possibility.

‘The rescue was effective, with zero casualties to the team. However, once inside we discovered that one of the survivors had been fitted with what was effectively a tracking device. It is highly likely that the vampires now know the exact location of the eastern exit.’

The room was in uproar. Tom swore soundly. Bloody fools!

Kappa looked extremely uncomfortable. He just sat down. Tom was the only one paying attention to the head table. He was the only one who heard Kappa’s hastily muttered apology.

Tom was angry, same as everyone else, but he knew it wasn’t Kappa’s fault. It wasn’t even Jean’s fault. Not really.

The fault lay with all of them. They were comfortable. Cosy. Secure. No one but Tom had been looking to the future.

Of course it wouldn’t last. Their little safe haven.

The only constant was change, same as it ever was.

‘Please! Please! Let us talk!’

Someone shouted out in English. Others were shouting in French, German, Russian, falling back on their native language in anger.

Tom understood the sentiment, even when he didn’t understand the language.

Jean shouted. People shouted back at him.

Samson stood and bellowed.

‘Shut the fuck up! Let him talk!’

That did the trick.

‘Thank you,’ Jean said, to the crowd more than Samson. Jean looked tired. He looked finished.

He might well be, thought Tom. A fuck up this big and people would be baying for blood.

‘One of the survivors, a little girl…well. She had some interesting things to say. If she is to be believed – and the evidence of last night’s rescue lends credence to her story – the vampires have evolved beyond all our expectations.

‘We thought they would begin to work in unison to hunt. This new group of vampires has surpassed that. At a location somewhere to the east – perhaps as far as Switzerland – there are vampires using people as cattle.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’ asked one of the people at the back.

Jean floundered again. Like he was pulling a plaster.

Tom reminded himself not to underestimate Jean, like they underestimated the vampires. Jean wasn’t a coward.

He cut his own leg off to save his life, after all.

‘The vampires know that the people they feed on turn. Those can no longer be food. They are…they are…ah…draining blood and drinking it without turning us.’

‘Farming,’ said Samson. Quietly. But enough people heard it.

A few people in the assembly began crying. Tom felt like crying, too. Why did nobody ever listen to him?

God, he wished he’d been wrong.

Would they listen now?

‘What’s more,’ said Jean, speaking more quietly now, ‘the vampires are using technology. The captives were brought here in a van, blindfolded. They used a walkie talkie with locator technology. The girl says they travelled from an enclave like this one…perhaps military. The girl says they used weapons before. It is entirely possible that the vampires have powerful weapons at their disposal. Perhaps more powerful than ours.’

Marie spoke where other could no longer bring themselves to.

‘What are we talking about, Jean? Military?’

‘Possibly.’

Lucius spoke up. Tom turned to look at him.

‘Military…meaning grenades, rocket launchers? That kind of thing.’

‘Maybe…’ said Jean.

‘You don’t know.’

‘No, Lucius. We don’t.’

‘Tanks?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Planes?’

‘Maybe…but could they use these things?’

Another man in the back spoke up. One of the canteen crew, Tom seemed to remember. He didn’t know the man well. His accent was thick, but he spoke English, the universal language of the enclave.

‘With respect…can we afford to assume that they can’t use such things? We assumed they were stupid.’

Thank you, thought Tom. Saves me making myself even more unpopular than I have to.

Jean looked tired and frightened.

‘No. You’re right. We can’t afford to assume anything. Not anymore.’ He put his head between his hands. When he raised his face to the audience, there were tears in his eyes. ‘I’m turning this over to the floor. I think we all deserve a say.’

Tom bit his tongue. He wanted to jump in. He wanted to jump all over everyone in the room. He knew it was anger, though. His blood was up and he was furious that they hadn’t listened to him. He needed to keep his council until he was calmer and wasn’t in any danger of calling the lot of them fucking idiots. They might well have killed every man, woman and child living in the complex.

He sat in silence, waiting. Waiting for calm within. Let the storm blow through. He’d have his say.

‘Do they want us for food? To use us like the poor people they already have?’

Jean nodded his head. ‘I think so. I think that is highly likely.’

Tom shook his head and sighed. He didn’t think that. Not at all.

There was an undercurrent of panic setting in now. People were beginning to shift in their seats.

‘Won’t the defence systems protect us? If they get close, won’t they just pick them off?’

‘We think so, but we don’t know what kind of weapons they have…’

Tanks, thought Tom. Tanks is the word you don’t want to say.

‘Why can’t we speak to the girl? She probably knows more.’

‘The survivors are under quarantine protocol for twenty-four hours.’

‘Bullshit!’ shouted a scientist from the back of the hall. Tom
turned around to see who it was. Davis Crane, one of the oldest of the survivors. He still wore a white coat. He was a figure of fun among the youngsters on the science team, but Tom respected him. He might be old but he was plenty sharp.

‘We don’t have time to wait that long. Get them in here. Keep the net on them if you must, but we need to know what we’re facing. We might not have twenty-four hours.’

‘We can’t break protocol. It’s there for a reason. To break protocol could be just as dangerous as this new threat,’ Samson shouted, standing up. He looked like the very thought was offensive. He was intimidating, even from across the hall.

‘Calm down, Sam. I happen to agree,’ said Jean. Tom bet he wished he was somewhere else.

‘If you bring them out I’ll shoot them myself.’

‘No you won’t,’ said Kappa, and put a hand on Samson’s arm. Not many people would go against Samson but Kappa was a brave man and one of the few Samson would listen to.

‘It’s crap, Kappa. It’s too dangerous.’

‘No. We’ll keep the nets on, full suits. No more argument.’

Kappa waved one of his team from the back of the hall. Sal came forward.

‘Run a message to the guards on detail. Bring the girl up. No sense in bringing the woman, but bring the man, too. He might be able to tell us more.’

Sal ran out of the hall.

Kappa had them trained well. Double time, soldier, thought Tom. He got up and walked across the hall, took a seat next to Marie.

‘Do you think they’re here for our blood?’ he said quietly, leaning in close to Marie.

‘No. I guess you don’t, either.’

‘No. I don’t.’

‘What do you think?’

‘I think we’re fucked,’ said Tom. ‘I think it’s too late.’

‘Too late for what?’

‘For who, Marie. Too late for us.’

*

Chapter Seventeen

Dining Hall

Level 2

Tom and Marie waited in silence. Plenty of the others were talking, but Tom was lost in thought, and Marie had nothing to say. Tom’s words had chilled her to the bone.

Eventually, the girl and the man were brought in. They both looked scared. It wasn’t surprising. They each had two armed guards in environment suits, one pushing them in wheelchairs. They were complete enclosed in nets, but they had been tied in, too, with silver chain.

People at the aisle down the centre of the hall drew back as they passed. Everyone knew that the change always happened after a few hours of infection. By Tom’s calculation twelve hours had passed. A day’s isolation was standard procedure. A safe window. He didn’t think there was any danger. Still, his spine tingled. He understood the reason for isolation. The danger from infection was all too real. An outbreak within the complex might mean the end for many of them, maybe even all of them. There were too many lives at stake to take foolish risk. This, however, was one risk they had to take.

The man was shaking, his tremors clearly visible. The girl seemed to be the calmer of the two.

‘I’m sorry for the precautions,’ began Jean, automatically addressing the man, even though it was obvious to everyone watching that the girl was his best chance of getting coherent answers. ‘I wonder if you would give us your names?’

‘Papa?’ said the girl. She spoke in French for a moment, but he didn’t answer. He was in his own nightmare. The girl shrugged and replied to Jean in a quiet but mature voice, in English, as his question had been posed.

‘I’m Nicole. This is my father.’

‘I know it’s uncomfortable for you in the net, but we must be extremely careful of infection. We need to ask you some questions. Can you help?’

‘I understand,’ she said, and Tom’s heart went out to her. Here was a girl who had been born brave. She reminded him instantly of Marie. He glanced at Marie and saw that a small smile played on her lips. He thought she probably felt the same way he did, watching the girl.

‘Can you tell us how many vampires brought you here?’

‘I don’t know, exactly, but they came in about twenty trucks and vans. I caught a glimpse of them before we set off.’

‘What kind of trucks? Armoured?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘They were green and brown. Like army trucks. Is that what you mean?’

Jean smiled, a little patronising, but at least it was a show of emotion. He was treating her like a human.

‘Kind of, I suppose. Did you see any weapons?’

‘Some of them had guns. Most of them didn’t. Some of the trucks had big guns on the back. I don’t think they all had guns.’

‘Do you know what a tank is, Nicole?’

‘Sure I do. Like a car, but bigger, with a long gun on the front.’

‘That’s right. Did you see anything like that?’

‘Not coming with us, but I did see some like at the farm.’

There were plenty of comments, but Samson held up a hand and the chatter settled down.

Jean kept his face blank but he stumbled for a moment. He covered it with a cough and ploughed on.

‘Do you know where the base was, Nicole? Do you know how long it took you to get here?’

‘I didn’t have a clock or anything but it took four nights. They only drove at night. They’re vampires, of course. They can’t see very well in the daylight.’

‘No, they can’t.’

‘They see better now, though. Their leader got them wearing sunglasses.’

There were a few curses, but Tom laughed. Marie just looked at him. He bit his lip.

‘I know we drove toward the setting sun. I could see the light through the blindfold. They let us out at sunset to go to the toilet. I don’t know if it helps, but we came over the mountains. We came from
Switzerland.’

All the breath in Tom’s lungs burst out suddenly. The blood drained from his face.

‘What was it like?’

‘A big base. Like this one. It went underground. But there was a big room under the ground. It was huge. They were fascinated by it. They made some people work on it. I think some of the vampires were really smart. They could work computers and things. This one vampire, their leader? He told everyone what to do. It was him that started using us as meat. That was his idea. I hate him the most.’

Tom’s legs felt weak. He wanted to stand and ask a question, but he couldn’t. He thought he would never have to think about the project ever again. But he couldn’t be sure. He needed to ask, only he couldn’t stand. He tried to speak anyway, but his voice failed him. He was aware of Marie holding his arm, asking him if he was alright, but her voice was far away.

Marie shouted out to Jean.

‘Somebody help! Tom’s having a heart attack!’

People began dashing around and trying to help him. He couldn’t breath. He was struggling against them, trying to push them away.

Marie called out to them, telling them to give him room. One of the medical team pushed through, clambering over chairs.

He knelt beside Tom and laid a hand on his neck, checking his pulse. Tom felt his eyelid being pulled back and it was uncomfortable.

‘Get off,’ he said. He tried to push the man away. ‘I’m not having a heart attack. Get me up. I need to speak.’

‘Just lay still.’

‘No time. Get me up.’

Against his better judgment the medic pulled Tom to his feet. ‘Tom, you should sit down. Take it easy a minute.’

Tom shook his head. ‘Help me up, for fuck’s sake.’

He’d cracked his head a good one on a chair going down. Great way to make an impression. Make everyone think you’re a useless old bastard, as if they didn’t already. He held onto Marie’s shoulder.

‘Sorry, everyone. Nobody loves a drama queen. Jean, can I…?’

‘Go ahead, Tom. Are you OK?’

‘No. No, I’m not. Not at all.’ Rein it in, Tom, he warned himself. He took a breath. ‘Sorry, Jean. Nicole, did this big room have a kind of tunnel in it? A big circular thing?’

‘I don’t know, Sir. I heard the vampire talking, though, when he didn’t think I could hear. I was feeding the…people…when he was telling this other vampire…I can’t remember exactly.’

‘Just the gist is good enough, honey,’ said Tom. His heart was still pounding but he had a good idea where this was going now and he’d prepared himself for the worst.

‘He said something like, ‘It won’t work without the other one.’ He was talking about the big thing down below, way under the ground. Sometimes when they were using it the ground shook. It was pretty loud. Like a dragon, or something.’

‘I guess it would seem that way. Thank you, Nicole.’

Jean raised his eyebrows. ‘You have an idea? Tom?’

Tom nodded his head. ‘I don’t have an idea, Jean. I know something. But this is for private.’

‘If it’s something to do with us, tell us! We need to know!’ cried someone.

Tom wished he’d been more circumspect, questioned the girl in the quiet, alone. But he’d panicked. And with just cause.

‘No, Paul,’ he said to the man, as gently as he could. ‘This is for the council. After, perhaps, but this is for the council.’

‘That’s why we’re here, Tom. Everyone should know,’ said Jean.

‘No, Jean, they shouldn’t. Call a meeting tomorrow, if you want, but for now we need to go. Sarah, Ben, we need you, too. Sam and Kappa…Alain, Suzanne. Marie.’

The hall was full of angry murmurs. They didn’t like being left out. Tom didn’t care. Nobody had listened to him all these years, now they were desperate they wanted answers from him. They could bloody well wait.

He tried to not look at anyone as he left the room, but their stares followed him, boring into his back.

*