by Cat Thomson
"You've been fantasising about me every night for a long, long time, Martin," Charlotte whispered when she reached him.
And then she sank her teeth into his neck.
***
Part 2: Infiltration
Location: London
Monday, 30 November 2026
Sunrise: 07:42
Sunset: 15:56
The postman only had one more building to deliver letters to before heading back to the mail sorting office, and he turned off the pavement and mounted the steps of Barkston Mansions, his near-empty letter bag casually slung over his shoulder.
He hurriedly shoved the small bundle of letters he had for the building through the mail slot in the door, then retraced his steps back down to the pavement. He looked up at the dark curtains and blinds that were now permanently drawn in every window, and he shuddered as he contemplated this and the fact that all the windows were also now always shut. The building had always had a quiet, staid atmosphere, but it was now unnervingly silent and seemingly devoid of life. There was something mystifying about the place that made him feel uneasy.
But it wasn't the only apartment block that had become like this on his postal route. He had begun to dread his job.
***
Location: London
Saturday, 5 December 2026
Sunrise: 07:49
Sunset: 15:53
Some of Ed's crew had built him a small prefab office at the end of the Collingwood tunnel that was closest to the Control Room, and he now spent most of his time in there. Tom knocked on the door of his office and entered without waiting for a response.
Ed was sitting at his desk, classical music playing at low volume.
"I'm really sorry, Ed. I realise I'm disturbing you. But I think you should take a look at this," said Tom.
He strode over to Ed and placed his tablet in front of him. Ed began to watch an excerpt from a late-night online chat show. The blurb scrolling across the bottom of the screen informed viewers that Joanna Haines, Defence Secretary, was being interviewed.
"Wasn't there something in the news about her going missing a while back?" said Ed.
"Yeah, she disappeared near the end of summer. But now that she's back at work, a statement has been made that she took time off for a family emergency," said Tom.
At that moment the Defence Secretary, whose eyes had been demurely downcast, tilted her face upwards, and the red glow of bewitching iridescence deep within her blue-green eyes was captured in the glare of the bright studio lights. Ed suddenly realised that her previously fine hair was now a golden mass of waves; that her dark brown complexion now had a tinge of pallor.
"Tom, this is serious," he muttered. "They're infiltrating the ranks of government now."
Ed placed his hands behind his head, as he considered the disconcerting turn of events of late. Not only had he just seen that the Defence Secretary had transformed; his contact in government had disappeared and he hadn't been receiving the figures for London's missing and murdered persons for a couple of weeks now. The last time his contact had sent him an update, the figures had been so alarming that Ed had kept them from the others. He had always just assumed that the vampire uprising would be quickly and easily contained and that they could all go back to living the way they had before this nightmare came about, but things only seemed to be getting worse. Ed realised now that they had made a grave mistake. They had delayed - avoided, really - the one thing that had been necessary from the outset: retaliation against the vampire onslaught.
***
Location: London
Monday, 7 December 2026
Sunrise: 07:52
Sunset: 15:52
It seemed to Tom that his heart pounded erratically in his chest as he and the nine others from the shelter stood at the front gate of a semi-detached house. Martin had placed undercover cameras in the vicinity of several buildings that he suspected to be vampire haunts, and it turned out there were at least fifty vampires living in this house.
They were at risk of being arrested if they were caught vampire slaying, and so they had stopped at the gate to check their surroundings for any signs of potential witnesses before they entered the house.
"Remember, we can't waste any time," said Jonathan. "If we fuck up, they could overpower us, and we don't want that to happen. A vampire whose unconscious state is disturbed during the day is way more gruesome to deal with than a vampire encountered at night. At this time of the day, they're on self-defence autopilot."
They began to walk up the path that led to the front door of the house, but Jonathan stopped mid-way to the door. The others did the same and at the very moment that an elderly lady out walking with her Labradoodle came into view, they undid their coats to reveal large crucifixes hanging against their chests like absurd, over-sized necklaces. When the woman saw the edgy group of men and their crucifixes, she gasped and turned back in the direction she had come from, taking quick steps, her dog moving into an eager trot alongside her.
Jonathan moved to the door and the others gathered round him as he messed about with the lock, all of them trying to act casual to avoid the suspicions of any passersby. Soon the door swung open and Jonathan entered the dark hallway of the house, the others following close behind him. There was a click as the last one in closed the front door behind them.
Tom's hand moved automatically to the gun in the shoulder holster that he barely knew how to fire.
"A stake's a good way to destroy a vampire, but using a gun is far easier and also more effective," Jonathan had told them last night. "Just make sure you all fire together and that your aim is good - go for the head or the chest."
They crept down the hallway, with only the dim light of Jonathan's penlight torch illuminating their path. Tom felt overcome by an immense terror. He wanted to turn and run. Jonathan opened the door to one of the rooms leading off the hallway and Tom pulled his gun from its holster, his clammy fingers slipping on the gun's cool metal exterior.
With a wave of his hand, Jonathan motioned to the rest of them to follow him into the room. In the torchlight, they could make out a row of lifeless vampires lying side-by-side on the floor in the sparsely furnished room. Tom counted the vampires: there were fourteen of them, but only ten humans.
They each moved to stand at the foot of an inert body and raised their guns together, then waited as Jonathan began to lift and lower his free arm, as he had briefed them he would do last night. On the fifth lowering of his arm, the reverberation of gunshots rang in Tom's ears as they all asynchronously pulled their triggers.
The four vampires who hadn't yet been shot opened their eyes automatically in response to the threatening commotion and rose rapidly from the floor to attack the human intruders, but as they did a torrent of bullets shattered their faces and chests and they fell back to the floor, where the damaged bodies of all fourteen vampires now lay motionless. Tom and the others were carrying bottles of holy water hung from custom-designed belts and they liberally sprinkled the vampires' carcasses with the water before they could regenerate. Tom was incredulous as he watched the vampires disintegrate, a scattering of dust on the floor the only proof that they had ever existed.
There was a sudden deep hissing and the humans turned round to find countless enraged, red eyes glowering in the dimness at the doorway. But at the sight of the crucifixes that the humans wore, the vampires screamed shrilly and retreated.
"Okay, now's when you need to form that circle facing outwards," said Jonathan. He seemed innately calm in spite of the circumstances. "Move slowly, and hold your positions no matter what. Your crucifixes need to always be visible."
They shuffled out of the room in three groups, continually turning in a circular motion as they moved, as Jonathan had shown them to do the previous night, so that their crucifixes were always visible from all sides. They could feel the proximate anger of vampires as they passed a closed door, but Jonathan had told them that no matter how terrified they were, they had to
move slowly and remain vigilant.
Only once they had reached the front door and exited the house did they run, not stopping until they were back in the street, where Tom took deep breaths, filling his lungs with the fresh outdoor air. The air inside the house had been rank, even more so after they had doused the vampires in holy water.
A police siren could be heard approaching just as Jonathan slammed the front door of the house shut and placed a crucifix on the front doorstep. He ran to join the others.
"Cover your crucifixes," he warned them. "If the police see them, they might stop and interrogate us."
They drew their coats over their chests and acted casual as the police car drove past them.
When it had disappeared out of view, Jonathan said, "I told you getting out would be the hardest part of all, but we did it." He took a pair of gloves out of a coat pocket and as he put them on, he said, "I've got to get going or I'll be late for work".
The others laughed and some of the tension they had all been feeling dissipated.
"We've just slain fourteen vampires and you make it sound like it's just a part of your daily routine, Jonathan," said Mark. "But the reality is that we had to enter their dark world and we risked our lives in the process."
"You're right, Mark, but think about it. What we're doing is basically culling, keeping the species under control," said Jonathan. "We're seeking them out and annihilating them when they hibernate during the day, and we're going to have to make this a very regular thing if we don't want to live under vampire rule. So the way I see it, we have to casually view what we're doing as though it were just another pesky daily chore, nothing more, because if we take it too seriously, we could all end up with some kind of physical or emotional burnout."
***
They would converge again at the shelter at sunset, but in the meantime, they all went their separate ways. Tom was the last one to move away from the house, and his hands were still trembling when he slipped his crucifix off and flung it into his backpack. He wondered if vampires would eventually become immune to crucifixes; they were going to see a lot more of them over the coming weeks, if not months. Suddenly his tablet rang in his coat pocket. Fuck! It hadn't been in silent mode throughout the time they were in that house.
He pulled his tablet out and took the incoming call. "Hi Sharon, I'm about to make my way to Brixton station."
"Oh my God, you're okay. I've been so worried, wondering if you'd all made it out of the house. Is everyone okay? Was it scary?"
"Scary would be an understatement, but we're all fine. I'll tell you about it when I see you; should hopefully arrive where we're meeting on time. Love you." Tom replaced his tablet in his pocket.
As he walked, he put his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. He and Sharon had both taken a day's leave from work and were going Christmas shopping. Life had taken on a fear-infused undertone of late and had become an endless cycle of sleep and mundane daily routine for them, especially since the economic downturn that had followed on from the state of emergency being enforced, and they planned to get a Christmas tree and a few decorations to help lighten things up for everyone at the shelter.
But before they returned to the shelter, they planned to spend tonight at Tom's old gym, in the storeroom where he had been staying before he knew of the shelter's existence. They desperately wanted to escape from the cluttered living conditions of the shelter and spend some time alone.
***
Location: London
Friday, 18 December 2026
Sunrise: 08:02
Sunset: 15:52
Matt pushed the heavy luggage trolley containing all his possessions slowly past the green-blue stencilled image of Nikolas on a brick wall in York Way, stopping briefly to read the caption beneath it: WANTED, DEAD OR UNDEAD. J.
Matt had "borrowed" the trolley from King's Cross station some time ago and he took it everywhere he went, even into the public library where he spent most of his time during the day, the warmth in there being a reprieve from the chill which seeped into his bones through the cardboard he slept on at night.
There was a sudden noise. Matt stopped. It hadn't been safe out on the streets at night for some time now, but he had never yet had an encounter a vampire. He saw them often enough, but they tended to ignore people like him; their predilection was for the young and beautiful, and he was neither.
There was a scuffling behind Matt and he turned to look behind him. He saw nothing, but then something jerked his trolley and he turned back to see a black-clad female vampire was now squatting on his weather-beaten suitcase, a dark, leering smile etched upon her sinister face. Adrenalin flowed through Matt's veins and he pushed the trolley forcefully away from him before running off in the opposite direction. He was weak with hunger, and it didn't take long for the burn of lactic acid to surge through his muscles as he ran. His lungs felt as though they were filling with sharp needles as he inhaled the icy air and they expanded to full capacity. But survival instinct had kicked in and Matt kept running.
He was certain that the vampire was close behind him and he had already witnessed their demonic speed. He probably had mere seconds left before his life would most likely be over, but still he ran, his eyes searching for some means of escape from the creature that only saw him as prey, tonight's meal. No escape route revealed itself to him and he began to gasp loudly with each painful, laboured breath as panic set in. There was no way out of his predicament. He could now see the vampire running alongside him and a sense of dread snaked its way through him. It was as though the vampire was enjoying the spectacle of his fear and panic, allowing him the illusion of possible escape, whilst knowing that he had not a hope in hell of getting away from her. Matt tripped and fell to the ground, and the vampire pounced weightlessly on top of him. He closed his eyes as he succumbed to his fate.
But a sudden howling made him open his eyes again, and he turned to see the vampire backing away, cowering, from three humans, each of whom had a large crucifix hanging from his neck. One of the humans threw liquid over the retreating vampire and Matt watched as the creature thrashed about, screaming, as its body was rapidly consumed by the mysterious liquid.
When only dust remained of the vampire, the three humans ran to Matt and helped him to his feet.
"Run! Towards that van!" one of them shouted to him as the three of them began to run towards it.
Matt felt numb with exhaustion. He didn't think he could run any further and remained where he had fallen, watching as a multitude of dark forms came into view on the horizon, rapidly moving in his direction. The three humans had by now reached the van and Matt heard it start up, and the screech of tyres on tarmac as it was driven to where he lay. The van stopped when it reached him, and its rear doors swung open, and one of the men got out and pulled Matt towards it.
"Hurry the fuck up, man!" someone inside the van shouted as they both fell through the van's open doors.
As Matt was pulled further into the van's interior, he saw someone shut the doors.
"Go! Go! Go!" he heard being shouted, and he lay motionless on the van's floor as it picked up speed and began to hurtle through street after street.
"We're trying to throw off our scent, make it harder for them to trace us," the man who had pulled him into the van explained.
"What about my trolley?" Matt asked.
"Your what?"
"My trolley; everything I own is in that trolley. I need it."
"Oh, you're homeless?"
Matt nodded.
"Someone can go back to King's Cross to fetch it first thing tomorrow morning. How've you managed to survive all this time out on the streets at night?"
"They don't go for unappetising types like me, mate; at least, not before tonight."
The man laughed and his dishevelled blonde hair fell into his eyes before he pushed it away again. "By the way, I'm Tom," he said, "and this is Jonathan, and that's Alex driving."
"Matt," said Matt. "And by the way, thanks
for saving my life."
***
"Just going for a smoke, guys," Martin called out as he disappeared down the tunnel.
No one replied, and he hastened his pace as soon as he had passed the crucifix barrier just beyond Collingwood. He made his way down the steps leading to the lower level of the shelter and only stopped when he reached Oldham sub-shelter, where he lent back against the wall and glanced furtively down the tunnel, beyond which was the Parry sub-shelter. Parry was where James, Katie and Charlotte lived, a strictly no-go area for all humans. By now James and Charlotte would have returned from the hunt. They never stayed out longer than was necessary; their survival depended on their spending as much time as they could out of sight of other vampires.
Martin brought his e-cig towards his lips between trembling fingers. As he inhaled, the cig fell to the ground.
"Damn," he muttered as he bent to pick it up.
He resumed his original casual pose, leaning against the wall, when a strange motion of shadow and line danced down the tunnel towards him. He looked intently about him, wondering what it was he had just seen.
Suddenly a soft voice spoke, close to his face. "Come."
Martin jumped, dropping his cig for a second time. He hadn't seen Charlotte approach and yet she now stood right next to him, but when he tried to speak, tried to ask her how she had got there without his having seen her, she put a finger to his lips as her stiletto crushed his cig on the floor. She took his hand and led him down the tunnel.
Martin was fearful, wondering how this would end. If Charlotte made a vampire of him, surely that would somehow make him a traitor to his friends, which was the last thing he wanted, but one thing he knew he did want, and that was to make love to the beautiful creature that now mis-led him down the tunnel.