The looks on all of their faces gave him a wrench. He noticed Collins in particular. Out of his peripheral vision he remained accutely aware of her position and her demeanour. He saw every shift in her posture, every inhalation, every furrow of her brow. He wanted to leave them all, and her in particular, with some form of hope, but it must not be a fool’s hope.
Like all of them, Collins could barely take her eyes off him. Like all of them, she was not immune to the force of his manipulation. He really was truly charismatic and although so much had happened and so much had changed, she still felt a confusing mix of sentiments. This time though there was no guilt. Her feelings about this vampire did not demean her emotions for Wood. Besides, she had only spent a very short period of time with Sebastian, enjoying each other’s company for a brief glimmer, nothing more than a glimpse into one another’s very different worlds. Two passing strangers reaching out to each other for comfort. And even now, that left some kind of bond or connection between them, a gossamer thread in the twilight. She wondered about it once again as her thoughts drifted but she tried to focus.
“There is not much that I can do for Vida,” Sebastian concluded, as much to himself as to them all, “but at least I can try. You mentioned that she turned on her husband. Where is he now?”
“His corpse is on the first floor where she left him to die,” Straddling said soberly. “She ripped out his throat and drank his blood.”
“What will you do?” Lewis asked.
Sebastian glanced around at them all. He looked fully at Collins for the first time and smiled, but he very deliberately avoided any manipulation. It was not a smile of charming. That fleeting moment had slipped away. Instead it was a smile of releasing and parting, a rueful smile of acceptance and finality. “Well,” he replied, “assuming you don’t shoot me first, I have little idea at present.” An old question resurfaced in his mind. How would he kill a vampire by himself? “Hopefully something will occur to me, but I am open to suggestions.”
Everyone gathered together in the lull. It was a strained atmosphere and Collins thought suddenly of the Titanic or any other such disaster. Everybody grouped for one last brief moment before they are claimed by the inevitable. Civilised conversations about bewilderingly normal matters. Avoiding the unmentionable and unpalatable imminent future. Counting down the minutes and seconds until the end.
Sergeant Vallage found her and enfolded her in a crushing embrace.
“I’m so glad to see you’re still okay, lassie,” he drawled with an unshakeable smile. “And don’t you worry, we’ll be all right.”
She forced a smile but there was no depth to it.
“Where did you find him?” he gave Wilson a stroke.
Collins choked. “Wood,” was all she could manage.
Vallage clouded over. There was nothing to say. Clearly his prophecy of Wood’s survival ability had fallen short of the mark.
Straddling led Vallage aside, ending the uneasy silence. Sergeant Vallage was the highest ranking soldier left from the contingent that had remained at RAF Headley Court with Group Captain Denny. Straddling quizzed him on what had befallen them since their parting. It was clear though even to Collins, who vaguely followed the conversation from a few yards away, that Straddling was not really paying attention. His mind was elsewhere.
The smoke still seeped gradually under the door, even through the dampened material that had been wedged in place. Lewis knew that the vampires must have piled a load of flaming furniture against the door. Whether that was to smoke them all out and kill them in the open or distract them and break down their defences preparatory to forcing their way in, who could say? What was certain was that they were scheming something.
“Get all the windows open,” he ordered Hutchison, “and keep these towels and the door damp.” Only then did he notice something else. There was now smoke coming in from the doors at the opposite end of the cafeteria as well. He cursed and barked out instructions, and the temporary lull ended. These vampires were surely preparing their final assault. It seemed that they meant surely not to spare any of them. Or perhaps worse still, to subjugate them all as they had done to Rohith and prolong their deaths until a time that suited them better.
“Stay alert,” he shouted. “We’re not finished quite yet. Let’s give these bastards everything we’ve got!” He swung the assault rifle off his shoulder and checked the magazine, his last one. It was full. He had thirty rounds remaining. And there were now just ten rounds left in his Browning. Enough for the task, he thought, if he was lucky. If he did not waste them. He stood in the middle of the frenetic activity, calmly observing his troops. The doctors still tended to Rohith. Julia tried her very best to shelter the two children who were crying. Some of the soldiers were attempting to keep out the smoke that continued to fill the dining area. Others were maintaining a vigil at the windows in case of attack during this time of distraction. Straddling approached and stood next to him. Bannister joined them. It was almost time.
“Are you ready?” he asked his sergeant.
Straddling nodded.
They all heard the scream quite clearly. It was unmistakably not born of a human throat; older, ancient and unintelligible. A defiant challenge and a warning of impending woe. Collins shuddered. It was hard to reconcile that demonic sound with vampires; with the creature she had come to have an understanding with. More likely, she thought, she had barely scratched the surface; her level of ‘understanding’ was entirely minimal.
CHAPTER 21
Sebastian stood with his head bowed. The first floor corridor was almost entirely empty, other than the rotting corpse at the far end and the fresh one at his feet. Blood splattered the walls and floor, and the stench of decay was heady and unpleasant. His eyes were half closed as he listened, testing the air for any new stirrings or scents. He was calm, standing in the middle of the passageway. He could feel his heart beating strongly within his chest and wondered for how much longer that would continue to be the case. There were aches all over his body from his recent encounters, in particular his shoulder, where Farzin had struck him with the poker. All had started their rapid heal however, but he had not had time to rest and nourish himself. He faced the wall, his peripheral vision just covering both fire doors. Gradually he became aware that they were about to open. His scream had summoned them.
Almost simultaneously the doors were pushed ajar. Four figures joined him in the corridor. At one end stood Farzin with his two new minions. He assumed they were Vida and Alžběta. They stood a pace behind him, breathing heavily. Sebastian could see their eyes were lidded, their focus was marred. They would be significantly stronger and faster than a human, but compared to a vampire, sluggish and clumsy. Combined, they would not provide more than a modest obstacle for him, but would act as a distraction and slow him down, giving Farzin the edge. Farzin stood in front of them like a champion, ready to receive his prize. The look of delight on his face was a sneer of revulsion.
“You are no dragon,” Sebastian muttered. “You are a serpent.”
The other end of the corridor presented a sight to behold. Sebastian had never before seen a vampire the equal of this one. Darius had been big but this colossus was significantly more fearsome still. Sebastian had trailed Farzin and spied on them all from a discreet distance but until now had not had a chance to see this monster up close. The dark look in his vacant eyes was like that of a shark, a purity of purpose, entirely bent on destruction with little room for anything else. Sebastian noticed the wounds to his face, his bloodied clothing and what looked like a bullet wound on his leg. Clearly the giant was not invincible.
There was no sign of Ricardo which meant one of two things; either the soldier had been correct and he had indeed been killed, or Ricardo was alive but concealed somewhere and ready to jump out on him at any moment. Better to expect the latter. The emotion running through Sebastian was not exactly fear, more an appreciation of the fact that either way, he had, alas, bitten off more than he
could chew. He realised that was an unusual sentiment for a vampire.
They remained where they were, at opposite ends of the corridor. Farzin was clearly enjoying the situation. He was in no rush. He had looked forward to a moment such as this for quite a while.
“The end of the world has been a long time coming,” Farzin hissed, “but it was always going to come. This was to be our genesis and our salvation. A righting of wrongs, a balancing and a settling of scores. It was to be commended, not condemned. I have waited an age for this. But you side with the pathetic humans? You are a traitor to your kind.”
“You are not my kind,” Sebastian cut him short. “You never have been, even when we existed in the same clan. You have no honour. You would kill your fellow clan members and you killed your Clan Leader.”
“I have a new clan now,” he indicated the others with a gesture of triumphant pride. “And now I am Clan Leader.”
Sebastian turned his attention to the females and specifically to Vida. He judged her heartbeat, watched her breathing and even from that range copied the dilation of her pupils. Like never before he exerted his influence, ignoring all else. He gradually felt her body start to subtly change to his cadence. Her pulse had been fast but now skipped a beat and began to slow to match his own. For a moment he started to believe it might actually work.
“Your efforts are pitiful,” Farzin laughed. “They do nothing more than grant me amusement.”
Sebastian ignored him and concentrated entirely on her. “You do not have to be with him,” he implored slowly, rhythmically, timing the pulse of his words to the rise and fall of her chest. “Wake up and use your own senses.”
“She is entirely under my command and will remain thus,” Farzin jeered.
“Do you not remember your own name?” Sebastian continued, ignoring Farzin. “Your name is Vida. In the country in which you were born it means life, and yet you pay court to death. In fact, this serpent from hell has made you the very supplier of death.”
He could see her shift and he altered his own body position to mimic hers.
“Enough!” Farzin rasped, suddenly aware of the changes.
“You do not have to be enslaved to his will. You can resist and awaken from this nightmare.”
She murmured as his presence bore down on her, yet it was still not sufficient.
“I said enough,” Farzin roared. In his arrogance he had not expected this. He had not realised that his own hold over her was so insubstantial and that Sebastian was so much more skilled at it than he was. Nevertheless, he was the one who had turned Vida, and despite Sebastian’s greater skills, he would still not be able to break the hold Farzin had over her. He would do no more than to cause her to stir. It would not be enough.
Sebastian pressed on anyway. For her sake he had to try. He realised this was the best opportunity he was going to get. Now was the moment. If Sebastian himself was not strong enough to break Farzin’s hold over her, then maybe love would be. “Witness what he has made you do” he said as he suddenly stooped and hoisted the corpse at his feet. It was the body of a soldier. His neck had been torn open and blood covered him. “This is your husband. His name is Richard Paul Masters. You are Vida Alexandra Masters. This monster has made you kill your own spouse. Be free of his dominion.”
Her eyes widened but Sebastian was ready and waiting, and this time he preceded her. Farzin’s hold over her faltered.
“What?” she murmured stepping forwards and then focussed on the cadaver. “My love…” she started to say.
“Attack him,” Farzin now bellowed.
“Be free,” Sebastian repeated.
Vida whipped around, her lips pulled back to reveal her newly forming fangs, less impressive than a fully turned vampire but a start nevertheless. With a shriek she jumped, stretching her talons out and took Farzin by surprise, catching him across the cheek. A line of blood was drawn and she went in to bite his neck. She was not nearly fast enough though and he would not be caught off guard twice. As she stepped close he hit her hard across the cheek, sending her stumbling into the wall. With incandescent rage he followed it up.
“You would dare to confront me?” he shrilled as he grasped her head, ripping it backwards. “You will pay!”
Sebastian would have gone to her aid had he been able, but he was in no position to do so. As soon as Farzin had yelled, Simeon started to charge. For such an immense being he moved with considerable speed. In only a couple of seconds he had closed the gap.
Sebastian took a hesitant step backwards, placing himself by an open doorway. He crouched, ready to defend. At the last moment he drew a pistol from his waistband.
With odds as unfavourable as these he needed every advantage he could get. Once upon a time he might have viewed such tactics as underhand and dishonourable, but the moment for such lofty ethics was long past. It felt cold and clinical in his hands, yet he knew that his only hope of killing both vampires was with a gun. Without it he stood not the slightest ghost of a chance. The soldiers had instructed him in its use and he now quickly aimed and fired. The surprise that was clear on Simeon’s face and the minor imbalance in his gait due to the bullet from Straddling’s shot meant that even though he reacted instantly, he was not quite fast enough. The first round clipped his chest, the second his stomach. The third and fourth flew wide and then Sebastian ran out of time as his plan came to nothing.
Simeon barrelled into Sebastian with a raised knee. There was a crunch of bone and a spurt of blood. Sebastian was knocked flying backwards. Pain flared throughout his shoulder where Simeon had made contact. Simeon was upon him before he could respond, striking again with a fist like a mallet. The bullet wounds did not do much to slow him down. Sebastian was again launched forcefully into the air but twisted like a cat and landed ready to defend. He knew he could not overpower one as large as Simeon, but he also knew that he himself was far from feeble and helpless. Two hammer blows fell upon him. He parried them and slipped to the side. He lashed out with a boot catching Simeon in the stomach just where his bullet had entered and then ducked out of range as the giant again flailed at him. There was absolutely no way he could ever hope to match Simeon for strength, but he was faster and that would have to be his defence. Another fist swung and caught him with full force in the face. He crashed into the wall, stunned for a moment. He could hear sounds of footfalls approaching. Farzin must have dispatched Vida, releasing her from his subjugation, sending her soul up into the ether of eternal white noise, joining the other souls rushing past. He and Alžběta now ran at him. Time was slipping away. If Farzin reached him his chance of flight would be gone and they would surely kill him.
Simeon threw himself forwards to grab him. Those thick arms encircled Sebastian, hoisting him off the floor. He felt them tighten like steel bands as opportunity to escape faded. The arms squeezed and crushed. Pain was everywhere. Simeon leant in, towards his throat. His deadly fangs were bared. Sebastian was not strong enough to resist, but he did still hold the pistol. He fired it one last time. He could not properly aim as his arms were pinned, but it was good enough to save his life. The bullet just caught the side of Simeon’s chest and he roared as his grip eased. Sebastian slammed his head up into his chin and felt the arms weaken further. He got a foot on the ground and hoisted himself forwards, toppling the giant, just as Farzin reached the fray. As they tumbled the pistol was knocked from Sebastian’s grasp but he was quicker to react. He ducked his head and brought it sharply up again, feeling it crunch once more under Simeon’s chin. As the clinch was released he vaulted over the huge vampire and leapt away. Farzin snatched at him. He grabbed hold of Sebastian’s shirt but Sebastian twirled and wrenched it free, leaving nothing but torn cloth in Farzin’s hand. He rushed along the corridor and into a room towards the far end.
He had previously opened the window in that office in preparation. He leapt at it now, narrowly clearing the sill. His plan however was not to drop to the ground and escape. As he grabbed the window frame
he felt pain shoot through his shoulder once more. He ignored it and swung himself around and up, climbing nimbly to the roof. Farzin was only a stride behind. As Sebastian started to ascend he reached out of the window, grasped his leg and pulled. Sebastian nearly fell but managed to hold firm. He lashed out and caught Farzin in the face, sending him reeling backwards.
Simeon was slower. When he saw Sebastian duck into the office he guessed his intentions and entered a nearer room. He smashed through the window and started to climb as well. Sebastian made it to the roof a shade ahead of him. He paused and looked back to see what his pursuers were doing. Farzin was staring up at him from the room below. There was hatred in his eyes and fresh blood trickling down the side of his mouth.
“You can’t escape,” he screamed.
Simeon was almost there already. Sebastian turned away from Farzin, ignoring him now. He took a breath and smoothed down his shirt as he strode towards the large vampire, drawing his attention fully. The sun was shining in his face and it bothered his eyes. He withdrew his sunglasses that were miraculously unbroken in an inner pocket of his mid-length leather jacket, and put them on. There were regiments of clouds moving gracefully across the sky. A big, black bird took to flight on the far side of the roof, cawing. It was a pleasant day and the air was fresh. He took a deep breath. “I’m not trying to escape,” he shouted defiantly. “I’m ready for you both this time. You first,” he roared at Simeon. Time to test that purity of purpose, he thought.
The Blood of the Infected (Book 3): Twice Bitten, Twice Die Page 35