[Vampire Babylon 01] - Skarlet (2009)

by Thomas Emson

  “Crane,” said Lawton.

  “What?” said Milo, next to him.

  “Crane – that means – I’m going down.” He stepped up onto the railing.

  Milo said, “Jake, what the –?”

  And Lawton leaped.

  Milo saying, “Lawton, you lunatic,” faded behind him and he flew down towards the platform.

  He held his breath.

  He saw the edge of the platform.

  He saw the drop down to the cavern.

  His body went cold, thinking he was going to miss the deck and plunge into those vampires down there in the basement.

  He gritted his teeth, bicycled his legs.

  His toes hit the platform. He teetered and said, “Shit,” and saw Crane glare at him and say, “Kill him.”

  A guy with tattoos raced forward.

  Lawton flapped his arms, trying to get his balance. He hovered on the edge, gravity tugging at him. His legs felt like paper, and his head was spinning.

  Tattoo charged, dipping his shoulder. He was going to propel Lawton over the edge. The heavy roared, picked up speed, coming in hard.

  Lawton pirouetted, one leg hanging over a fifty-foot drop.

  Tattoo clipped Lawton’s hip. And realized he’d fucked up. He screamed, going headfirst off the platform.

  Lawton fell backwards on to the deck. He heard the thug’s body hit the floor down below.

  Then he heard: “Get the bastard,” and looked up to see Crane’s swollen face sneer at him.

  Dreadlock, clenching his fists, creasing his brow, strode towards Lawton. Lawton felt dizzy. He didn’t think he could get up in time to defend himself. He tried, but swayed, head spinning. Dreadlock, seeing him struggle, smirked. Lawton sat back down, felt Birch’s gun jab into his backside. He reached for the gun. Dreadlock’s face changed.

  Lawton shot him in the knee. Dreadlock screamed, his leg buckling.

  He stumbled, blood spouting from his knee. He got too close to the edge and fell, his wail ending in a thump as his body hit the ground.

  Lawton got to his feet. He looked around. Up in the balconies, the crowd panicked. He saw the boy hanging upside down from a rail over the pit and a hand, too large and too red to be a human hand, clasped around the boy’s skull.

  He smelled death, too. He knew what that smelled like, and it was strong here.

  He went to help the boy and then saw Crane. Lawton aimed the gun at Crane and the man backed away, putting his hands up, offering a smile. “N-now, now, Mr. Lawton, let’s not be rash.”

  “I’m feeling very rash, Crane. Where’s Sassie, where’s Christine and –? ”

  A scream stopped him. And then a voice, screeching, said, “Kill it, Jake! Kill it, for God’s sake!”

  It was Sassie.

  He went to the pit where the boy was hanging. He stared down and saw the monster, and something came apart in Lawton’s belly and he almost lost all his strength and toppled into the trench.

  But he steeled himself, swore at the monster because it made him feel better, and shot it in the head.

  Black liquid spurted from the creature’s scalp and it let go of the boy, staggering backwards. The boy screamed for his mother and Lawton realized he was Murray’s son.

  The creature glared up at Lawton and Lawton felt the courage drizzle out of him. He’d looked a lot of men in the eye and never felt fear, but he recognized it now.

  The creature rose out of the pit, floated up like it was on wires.

  The crowd gasped and chants of, “Kea, Kea,” swept through Religion.

  The vampires shrieked from the cavern below.

  Kea towered above Lawton.

  “Kill him, my Lord Kea,” said Crane, “Kill the piece of shit.”

  Lawton, eyes fixed on Kea, said to Crane: “I’m going to put this gun in your mouth and blow the back of your head off after I’m done with this thing.”

  Crane said, “You’re fucked, soldier boy.”

  The creature stretched out its arms, and the red cape of skin flapped.

  “Jesus, you’re a fucking ugly bastard,” said Lawton, looking up at the monster, giving it all that but feeling shit scared.

  The monster shrieked and the vampires responded – dozens of them, clambering up the walls, up the scissor lift, making the platform jolt.

  And Lawton said, “Rabbit, I really need you to be where you’re going.” He whipped the spear out of its scabbard. “This is a new trick I’ve learned today,” he said – and he pulled the spear apart, the centre shaft splitting in two, Lawton now holding the pieces like two short swords in either hand.

  Kea tensed and took a backward step. Lawton saw the beast flinch and it gave him a spurt of confidence.

  He scanned the club, taking in the arena. The audience leaned over the railings, to get a look at their god – the creature they’d waited centuries to see. Milo tussled with a few, easily overcoming them. But Lawton needed him down here, to help him fight the vampires that were tearing up the walls, up the scissor lift, and on to the platform.

  Chapter 103

  TIME TO ESCAPE.

  JACQUELINE Burrows watched the vampires leap up on to the platform and clamber to the balcony. She backed away, reaching into her pocket for the cloth that would keep her safe. She fished it out of her jacket and flapped it in front of her face. Others around her did the same with their marks, holding them up in whatever form they took to keep the vampires at bay.

  The vampires lined the balcony, staring down at the platform.

  They wailed, calling to their creator. Burrows’s eyes fixed on Kea. He was magnificent. A glorious beast that made the soldier Lawton look puny.

  Something caught her eye. A fight in the shadows. A large man who’d come in with the soldier smashed his way through the people here, tossing them aside, throwing punches and kicks.

  “The drapes, Milo,” said Lawton from below, his voice echoing, “drag down those drapes – Rabbit, I need you, now – now.”

  The one called Milo tugged at the nearest drape. The red velvet snapped from the rail high above. The material cascaded down. People screamed as it poured over them. Streetlight filtered through the strip of pebbled glass.

  The one called Milo elbowed his way through the crowd to reach the next drape. He dragged that one down, too, trapping people under the heavy material.

  A voice at Burrows’s shoulder said, “We’ve got to get out of here, Mrs. Burrows.”

  She wheeled, stared into Phil Birch’s wide, wet eyes. His nose was red, and dried blood smeared his face. He said, “Things are going a bit crazy.”

  “Kea’s risen,” she said, “it’ll be fine – won’t it?”

  “Mrs. Radu’s dead. Lawton’s causing trouble. If the police arrive – ”

  “You are the police, Mr. Birch.”

  He scurried over to a couch. He said, “I mean the real police, the proper ones.” Birch got on his knees, reached under the couch, brought out a shotgun. He stood and held up the gun. “My ‘you-never-know’ weapon,” he said. “And this is a ‘you-never-know’ moment, I’d say.

  We’ve got to go.”

  She shook her head. “I’m a Home Office minister, I can do – ”

  And she faltered, her mouth open, her eyes staring into space while she thought about the situation. She looked at Birch and said, “You’re right. Where’s Dr. Haddad? He has Kakash and Kasdeja. We’ll need them. There’ll be another day.”

  “This way,” said Birch, as screams filled the auditorium.

  * * *

  Haddad stared down at the chaos. He leaned on the control panels.

  His legs felt weak and he wanted to slump back into his wheelchair, but he was frozen with terror.

  Jed had wheeled him here to the lighting booth and Haddad pressed the controls that raised the platform. He’d settled back to watch Lord Kea’s resurrection. He saw the figures in the balcony, the lost family he’d found and gathered over the years: the descendents of Nebuchadnezzar.

>   He was seven when the Fuads brought him to Britain. They were the bookkeepers, the branch of the family that held all the information.

  Their musty, damp cellar contained miles of shelving and filed there were family trees and histories of Nebuchadnezzar’s line. Haddad spent hours in the dark, dank cavern learning the names of all the people he would trace. He pledged to bring them together one day, and they’d watch the re-birth of their gods.

  And here was that day.

  But everything was going wrong.

  Nadia had been killed – by the very god she’d served. And that damned soldier slashed away at the vampires on the platform. He was armed with the Abrahamspear, now divided to make two swords – he’d found it; found it where Ion had failed months ago, where so many had failed since those men stole it from Haddad’s home.

  Haddad cried out. Another invader was tearing down the drapes that covered Religion’s windows. It was no problem, now, but unless they were out of here by dawn, the sun would spill through those windows, killing the vampires.

  Panic spread through the watching crowd.

  “We’ll have to get out before sunrise,” Haddad said to Jed, cowering behind him near the door. Haddad grabbed his hat.

  “I’m scared,” said Jed, baring his fangs, “I can – smell fear. I don’t – don’t want to burn – I, I, I know how it feels. How can I know how it feels to burn in the sun?”

  “You have a common heritage,” said Haddad, watching the havoc through the soundproofed window of the booth. “All those who’ve gone before you, you share a bond with them, boy. You know what a stake through the heart feels like, what burning in the sun feels like.”

  The door crashed open. Haddad spun around and pain surged through his body. He leaned against the control desk to steady himself.

  A lean, shaven-headed man, his body all sharp edges, stumbled into the booth. The man’s boiler suit was pulled down to reveal his torso. He smelled of iodine. Blood oozed from bandaged wounds in his neck, his arms, and the wounds were stained yellow. He looked pale and weak, but he wielded a stake.

  “Hello, granddad,” said the wounded man, “I’m Rabbit – and you’re in my headlights,” and he staggered forwards.

  Haddad’s gaze flitted to Jed, hiding behind the door. The man called Rabbit hadn’t seen him. But he saw Haddad’s eyes. And the Rabbit turned, following Haddad’s gaze, as the vampire sprang forward.

  Chapter 104

  THE RING.

  LAWTON kicked a vampire off the platform.

  “Too many of them,” said Crane. “Give it up, Lawton, you’ve no chance.”

  Vampires circled Lawton. He held out the tusks. Kea towered over all the figures on the platform. Saliva oozed down the creature’s chin, and it opened and closed its mouth as if flexing the jaw muscle.

  Lawton’s gaze darted about, looking for an escape route. “Rabbit,” he said, his voice rising above to cacophony, “Rabbit, hit that switch, for Christ’s sake.”

  “There’s no switch that’ll save you, now,” said Crane.

  The vampires closed. Then one of them stepped out from the circle and Lawton held his breath, looking into the creature’s eyes. “Hello, Jake,” said Jenna, her smile showing bloodied fangs. “Do you want to dance? We are in a club.”

  Lawton said, “Not really. You know me. Haven’t got the moves.” He backed away as she moved forward.

  “Come on,” said the vampire Jenna. “Let me finish it. Let me make it so that we’re together forever. I’ve done Dad already. He’ll be moaning at me for the rest of time, now.”

  “I’ll kill you, Jenna.”

  “I’m already dead.”

  “Then I’ll kill you again.”

  “You can’t. You can’t stab me with those things, you just can’t.”

  “Go on,” said Crane, “take him, take him down and let me watch him squirm.”

  A voice pierced the chaos saying, “His ring, Jake, his ring.”

  He turned and saw Sassie, bloodied and stained, clamber out of the pit. She held a piece of red material in her hand. The vampires turned on her and Lawton went to shout for her to take care. But the creatures, once they’d seen her, seemed indifferent, backing off. Lawton frowned.

  Jenna said, “Your new girl, is she? Pity we can’t kill her too. Pity she’s untouchable, or you could go together.”

  And Lawton thought, Why is she untouchable?

  “The ring,” said Sassie again.

  Crane said, “You bitch, Sassie. That mark doesn’t mean I can’t kill you,” and he rushed forward.

  Jenna pounced. Lawton thrust with one of his swords. The weapon pierced Jenna’s chest and cracked her ribs. She screamed, tossing back her head. He grunted, driving the tusk deeper, lifting her off her feet.

  Impaled on the bone, she dug her nails into Lawton’s shoulders.

  He grimaced, the pain shooting through him. She fought against him, growling and tearing at Lawton.

  The vampires wailed. Kea roared. The building trembled. The vampires came forward. From the corner of his eye, Lawton saw Crane tussle with Sassie. And then he glimpsed Murray crawl out of the pit and grab Crane’s leg.

  The sword sunk deeper into her chest. She stared down at him, tears of blood running from her eyes. “Jake,” she said, her voice a whine, “Jake, how could you hurt me? How could you do this to me?” And for a second he felt the rage drizzle out of him. But then:

  “Easy,” he said, jamming the bone into Jenna’s chest, right up to the hilt, till he felt the point exit through her back. She shrieked and flailed. The smell of burning filled Lawton’s nostrils. He swung her around, swatting other vampires away with her body. Her skin charred.

  Veins of fire pulsed along her scorched flesh. Her tongue withered and her hair shrivelled.

  She said his name and crumbled, her remains raining over him and powdering his clothes and his skin and his hair, and showering across the podium.

  He tucked the swords under his armpits and looked at his hands.

  Jenna’s ashes coated his skin. He stared at his palms for a moment, and then turned them over to study his knuckles and his fingernails. Then he clapped his hands, scattering her residue, washing it off him.

  He armed himself again, and was under attack immediately.

  Murray and Sassie fought with Crane. He was lashing out at the women. Lawton kept a vampire at bay with the bone-swords. He thrust one of the tusks into the creature’s chest. Like Jenna, it fragmented.

  Richard Murray shouted his name, his voice desperate. Lawton spun round. Two vampires closed in on the grounded man. He struggled against his handcuffs.

  Lawton raced across the platform, keeping an eye on Kea.

  The creature seemed to be surveying. Lawton guessed it could step into the skirmish at any time, and put an end to it. But Kea seemed to be gauging its enemy. Maybe being awake after sleeping for three thousand years took some getting used to, and the vampire god needed to reacclimatize.

  Lawton booted the vampire attacking Richard over the edge of the platform. The other creature wheeled, bared its fangs. Lawton slashed it across the face with his sword. Black liquid spurted from the wound.

  He kicked the vampire off the podium, and he went to Richard.

  “Get me out of these things – my wife – my sons – ” said Richard.

  “Stick your arms out behind you.”

  Richard did and Lawton shot through the chain linking the cuffs.

  The bullet shattered the link. Richard screamed, leaped to his feet. He stormed over to get Michael down from the rail, and then stared down into the pit and said David’s name.

  Lawton went to Sassie and Murray’s aid, his gaze darting around the club as he raced over to them. Vampires still clambered up the platform, and he sent a couple plunging back into the cavern as he crossed the deck. The audience cowered towards the back of the balcony. Lawton smelled smoke, and he saw it billowing. Someone said, “Fire! Fire!” and people started to stream out of t
he gallery. Milo had started to burn the drapes.

  “Drag them down so if we’re still in a fight come dawn, those bastards’ll burn,” Lawton had told him. “And set them alight. We’ll raze that fucking house of devils to the ground, take all the bastards with us if we have to.”

  Screams and cries filled Religion.

  Lawton’s gaze roved the balcony.

  And he saw Milo.

  Lawton said, “Jesus.”

  Milo had the RPG pressed into his shoulder.

  Lawton, fifty feet away, stared into the barrel.

  “Duck,” said Milo.

  Lawton ducked. Milo fired. A wooden stake shot out of the RPG, tailed by white smoke. It whizzed over Lawton’s head and thudded into the chest of a vampire that had just stood after climbing on to the platform. The force of the blow sent the vampire flying off the platform, the stake buried in its chest. The creature smashed into the DJ’s booth and exploded into dust.

  Lawton stared up at Milo and gave him the thumbs up. Milo reloaded and started popping vampires, laughing like a loon as he blew them to pieces with his new toy. Smoke was building up behind him, and now Lawton could see flames too, licking at the walls.

  Lawton glanced up towards the lighting booth. Where the fuck was Rabbit? He felt a chill in his gut. He cast the fear aside, crossed to Sassie and Murray and grabbed Crane by the collar. He tossed the man aside.

  Crane got up, snarling. “I’ll tear your eyes out, you bastard.”

  Lawton looked at the man like he was shit.

  Crane hurtled towards him. Lawton cracked him across the jaw with one of his bone-swords. Crane stumbled away, swaying across the platform.

  Sassie comforted Murray, who bled from the nose.

  Lawton pounced on Crane. He grabbed the tottering man’s hand.

  He tried to pull the ring off his finger but it wouldn’t come.