Simeon looked hard at him with a hungry leer. “Good,” he snarled as he vaulted to the roof. His voice was heavy and coarse, and full of menace. “Let us finish this.”
“As you wish,” Sebastian replied. “I’ll enjoy this. Come to me then, if you really think you have it in you.”
So eager was Simeon to get to his prey that he did not look over his shoulder. His attention was focussed solely in the direction of Sebastian. He failed to notice the soldiers crouched on the roof behind him. His single-minded blood lust had blinded him. As he landed he did not even hear the click of metal.
Lewis fired first. He had commanded short bursts but his finger remained squeezing the trigger. Straddling, Bannister and Berthon started shooting immediately after. As the first rounds ripped into the goliath’s back Lewis saw them puncture the flesh. His heart soared. Without daring to hope he kept the trigger pressed a moment longer, then longer still. The ammunition bit and tore and shredded the vampire’s body. He jerked and staggered as holes opened up across his torso but he kept on walking. So bent on destruction was he that he would not even permit death to get in his way. The soldiers slowly advanced, line abreast as they fired, closing in for the kill. The bullets worked their way up his body and on towards the back of his skull. Riddled with lead and oozing blood, Simeon took a few last faltering paces towards Sebastian. He ignored the soldiers and the damage they were doing to him. Sebastian warily retreated as Simeon approached; even Death took a respectful pace backwards. Finally, as mighty as he was, Simeon stumbled to his knees and collapsed to the asphalt. Two dozen bullets had ruptured just about every single organ in his body, a fate that not even a vampire such as he could withstand.
Sebastian stood for a moment gathering himself in relief. It had been quite a gamble, but he knew he could not delay. He strode quickly to the parapet but there was no sign of Farzin. He realised though that this was not yet over. Farzin would not stop. Now that there was such wrath and a need for vengeance, Farzin would never stop. If this was not ended immediately he would merely go away and amass more minions and then return with surprise and strength on his side. This had to be finished now.
The four soldiers approached him tentatively. “Can we help you any further?” Lewis asked.
“Thank you,” he replied. “You have redressed the odds already. I will end it.”
“Are you sure?” The look of confusion on Lewis’s face was clear. “We can make the odds swing completely in your favour.”
“I will take it from here,” Sebastian replied evenly. “Go back to your clan. Leave me to do what I must.”
Pain spread through his shoulder like fire as he started to climb down the outside of the building. His ribs hurt, his face was swollen and he knew he was far from his best. This was something that he had to do alone however. The humans did not understand and he did not have the time or patience to explain it. This would redress his honour and he felt a burning need for a reckoning. For too long Farzin’s prior claim had prevented Sebastian from being with Flavia and he now realised how badly he needed to settle the score. He had thought he had previously acted with integrity. Now he realised that even in a life as long as a vampire’s, one does not have as much time to waste as one would think. On occasion principles can get in the way of destiny. Integrity and legitimacy are sometimes mutually exclusive. For once he had something in common with Farzin; an unquenchable desire for retribution.
As well as that, he knew Farzin’s mind. Farzin would rather make good his escape, only to return with a small army gathered to himself if he believed he was at any disadvantage. The only way to get him to stay and fight was by making him think that he had the upper hand, by making him want to end it all as soon as possible. If he believed that Sebastian was injured and vulnerable, which in truth he was, then he would undoubtedly want to finish him off immediately.
And so as Simeon’s cadaver rapidly shrivelled and withered, now was the time for the reckoning.
Sebastian felt remorse for Vida. He regretted that it had ended with her death. That had never been his aim. He had merely been trying to create a distraction, to buy himself a little time and change the odds somewhat. Perhaps it was better this way however. Like this she would not have to face up to the horrors of what she had done to her own husband, her true love. She would not have to come to terms with her new reality - as a bringer of death, an outcast from human society, never to be truly accepted, always to be feared and mistrusted. He knew from bitter experience how hard that could be. And now his thoughts turned to Alžběta, this other hapless woman under Farzin’s odious spell. He may have been unable to save Vida but there was still a chance that he could rescue her at least.
Sebastian did not know the building and so was unsure where Farzin might be hiding. He felt certain however that Farzin would remain for a while at least. While there was still the chance of some revenge he would not go far.
Sebastian found himself standing at the main entrance on the ground floor, the same one that had been used initially to enter the building by Lewis and his men, two weeks previously. Everything was quiet as he entered. The smell of distant burning mingled with the stale funk of death from so much blood and killing over so many days. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, turned to the east and proceeded with extreme caution. From above he heard the vague bang of doors being closed and barricaded. The soldiers were returning to their cafeteria, sheltering from the horrors of his world - a world that they really knew nothing about, save what they had learned recently and none of which was overly savoury. A world that he doubted they could ever understand, being so very far removed from their own. Certainly at present they accepted him wholeheartedly, as much as anything for the essential assistance he could provide. But when that need was gone, when necessity no longer existed, how long before the aid that he had given them was forgotten? How long before he was viewed with suspicion and fear? Maybe not by these humans, but by others? Perhaps both Darius and Farzin had been wrong. Perhaps these two worlds, so very different from one another, could never truly develop a mutually beneficial relationship.
At the end the building turned through a right angle to the north and crossed an open area with some seats. There was a door and again he paused, trying to detect the presence of others. Another sound came to him from ahead - a light, rhythmic banging. He mentally prepared himself and passed through the doorway.
He entered into what had clearly been some sort of laboratory area. It was large and open with many small work stations where presumably minor experiments would have been performed in its halcyon days. The room itself was of no consequence to him. The two occupants however most certainly were.
They charged at him from the far side of the area. One was a woman possibly in her late thirties, although with the disease working through her veins it was hard to say for sure. She had a limp and one arm was bleeding with a significant wound on the shoulder but her rage was strong and she ran with pace and determination. The other was entirely more noteworthy. It was a man who was a little older, with thinning, ginger hair and a thick beard. He wore a blood-stained, blue T-shirt that had the word ACDC printed on the front. There was a chain around his neck where he had clearly been tethered. It was also obvious that as well as the normal contamination of the infected, he had been further tainted by vampyric blood. Sebastian had no doubts about whose blood that would have been; Farzin was obviously playing with all elements of being a Clan Leader. Having seen the effects of giving tainted blood to Darius he had now gone one step further and somehow given his own blood to this infected human. Sebastian had only a moment to prepare. One bite from either of these now would bring about his doom. Farzin was indeed cunning, wearing his adversary down before committing to the fight himself. Sebastian guessed that these two had been held captive and released by him at this, the opportune moment.
He manoeuvred himself so as to delay the woman’s attack. That way he could deal with them one at a time and for now the man was considerably
the more significant threat. He moved so much faster than the woman, leaping over benches in his haste to get to his quarry. With a final bound he jumped from a distance. His arms were outstretched in the typical manner of the diseased but his jaws were open and ready to bite like a vampire.
Sebastian ducked and grabbed the man. He propelled him on overhead, maintaining his trajectory and sending him crashing into a bench. He hoped the brief reprieve would give him time to deal with the woman separately but the man was on his feet instantly and straight back at Sebastian. The two now converged on him simultaneously. One was reaching, the other slashing. The man was fast but he was not as fast as a vampire and he did not have the experience or discipline that Sebastian had gained over many years. However, he was utterly fearless, consumed by unequalled rage and driven by unappeasable instincts. Sebastian lashed out with a boot leaving the woman stumbling as he grappled with the man. He held his forearms at length and tried to avoid the snapping teeth coming anywhere near him. As the man surged forwards Sebastian was shoved back and cracked into a table. The fire from the struggle with Simeon returned to his shoulder as his body complained. He had been weakened already. On any other day this encounter should not have provided much trouble. He gripped the man by the wrists. The man tried to bite his hand and Sebastian was forced to release his grasp. Suddenly freed the man lunged, getting in close to his prey. All Sebastian could do was to slug him quickly under the chin and he went reeling into a desk. The woman came at him again and Sebastian just had time to chop her with the side of his hand. He cracked her windpipe, she crumpled and the man was already back again. He was just as tenacious as the infected were normally, but he really was so much faster. He leapt from a few paces away but this time Sebastian was better prepared. He dodged, thumped the man on the back of his head and he fell to the ground hard. The impact gave a satisfying crack as Sebastian turned to face the woman once more. She now moved slowly and was having difficulty breathing. This time he was able to deal with her properly. He grabbed her by the side of her neck and smashed her head through a bench and she lay still.
The man was lying by his feet but had raised himself up and clawed at Sebastian’s shin. His trousers ripped but he jerked back just in time, then stamped down. He stamped once more, just to make sure his assailant was dead. As he staggered back, his chest heaving, the attack continued but from another quarter.
He felt the fire in his shoulder again as unseen teeth sank into his flesh. He lurched backwards, driving himself and his attacker into a work station. Alžběta’s grip on his throat released as he drove an elbow back into her. He was just turning to confront his new enemy when he was knocked to the floor by yet another foe.
Farzin had sent Alžběta as the next distraction. Only then did he enter the fray himself. With a slice from his cruel talons he cut Sebastian’s cheek, smacking him to the ground. Alžběta was stunned and out of the fight but Farzin now had the upper hand. Sebastian had been weakened enough already and Farzin was in a clear position of dominance. He kicked out hard with a boot, catching the stricken vampire across the side of the head. Picking up a desk he brought it crashing down, enjoying the sight of blood upon his adversary’s body. Long had he harboured jealousies about the obvious attachment between Flavia and this pretender. Long had he looked forwards to a moment such as this. He snapped off a leg from the desk and struck down at Sebastian, cracking him upon the thigh. Sebastian crawled backwards in pain, trying to get a little distance between the two of them to give himself a chance to recover. Farzin strode contemptuously after him, scattering tables and equipment.
“You choose to keep the company of these pathetic humans,” Farzin crowed, “I prefer the company of others far more useful to my designs.”
Each time Sebastian attempted to get to his feet Farzin would strike out, knocking him down. Sebastian was weak and exhausted. His resolve to fight was fading. It would be so much easier to give in to what seemed the inevitable. He had nothing to prove, nothing to fight for. He grew weary and this would make for a quick end to his purposeless reality.
As Farzin came at him once more, Alžběta also returned to the fight. As she was under Farzin’s influence her brain was addled and slow and her lack of experience was obvious. She leapt forwards and tried to strike at him with hunger and venom in her eyes, but she was only an innocent. The fact that she attacked Sebastian, he knew well, was beyond her control. If Farzin were to triumph her existence would be one of tyranny, and the humans above would all be made to pay. Farzin would go away and form a new clan, a new army of minions hungry to taste human blood for the first time, newly turned vampires with none but Farzin to guide and tutor them. The soldiers above would all perish.
Sebastian had once experienced a rage like no other, a bloodlust that had descended upon him and bestowed might to his vengeful desires, a long time previously on the outskirts of the village of Fontaine de Vaucluse in the south of France. It had controlled his actions and he had slaughtered a mob of frightened peasants who had discovered his hideout. He had sworn never again to let himself be dominated by his base, vampyric instincts. He had been true to his pledge and learned to control his emotions, but when one makes an oath like that one cannot always foresee the future.
With a roar he grabbed Alžběta as she reached for him, momentarily blocking Farzin’s attack. He shoved her forcefully backwards into Farzin and sprang to his feet as they collided. Throwing himself at them both he grappled with them and they all tumbled to the floor. Pain shot through his limbs and his energy was low but the rage spurred him on. He took hold of Alžběta’s head and cracked the back of her skull down into Farzin’s face. She went limp in his hands and flopped to the side lifelessly. Farzin screamed in rage. Sebastian dug his fingers into his neck, seeking to end the fight. He drew blood but Farzin writhed and reared, dislodging his hold. He rolled to the side, his look of wrath was tinged with panic.
“You will pay.”
Sebastian ignored his own discomfort and surged forwards without respite. The balance swung back to him and he needed to take control of the fight immediately. He leapt and straddled Farzin, pinning him to the floor. He grasped him around the throat and started to throttle him. His thumbs pressed deep into the soft part at the base of the neck as he squeezed. His nails bit into skin. He looked down at his hands, strong and slender and ending in small but capable talons, all lethal, deadly little swords, drawing forth ten little rivulets of blood. He who lives by the sword…
Farzin’s eyes bulged. He scratched at Sebastian’s face and struck at his head but Sebastian would not loosen his grip. As the bloodlust descended upon him he felt wrath flowing through his shoulders and into his arms and hands and fingers, giving him strength as he crushed the life from this malefactor. Farzin started to scratch at his wrists as his eyes rolled back. Sebastian knew that it was not enough; he would somehow have to do more if he were to take Farzin’s life. He did not know what he was going to do, but he was very ready to try.
“Spare me,” Farzin pleaded. For a moment he stopped struggling, his arms went limp at his sides and he stared imploringly at Sebastian. “Please. Spare me.”
Sebastian kept his grip firm but for a moment his rage lessened. Even now he found that he was not the cold-hearted killer that Farzin was. He took pause and a deep breath, only to see the plea in Farzin’s countenance change to glee.
“Spare me at your peril,” he chortled as he wriggled from the grip on his throat and bucked, unbalancing Sebastian. He struck Sebastian across the face, sending cascades of blood down his cheek. Sebastian gasped and his grip loosened further as Farzin struck out, sending him to the floor. “You fool,” Farzin leapt to his feet and kicked down at Sebastian’s undefended head. It cracked hard on the floor and he repeated it. “I have been bitten once,” he crowed. “I have died once already. I will not die again.” Sebastian cried out and Farzin smiled. “There’s no one left to hear you scream. It’s just you and me now, and soon it’ll just be me.”
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Sebastian was dazed and weakened. Pain was everywhere, and he could only see though one eye. “You think you are saving them,” Farzin said as he lashed out again, making contact once more with Sebastian’s head, “but you cannot save them from themselves. Humans are inherently weak and they are destined to serve or die.” He leant in closer as he spoke. Clearly he did not reserve those sentiments exclusively for humans.
Sebastian felt Farzin come close. His breath was on his cheek as he gloated, always keen to prolong the agony and enjoy it to its fullest, now that he knew he had triumphed, now that he realised the danger had vanished.
“You too are a weak fool,” he spat into his enemy’s face. “Your weakness turns you towards empathy, and your empathy makes you weaker still. Now you die and then the pitiful humans will suffer.”
Sebastian’s hand whipped out. He could hardly see, but he knew where his foe was from the spit and the breath upon his own face. He grabbed Farzin around the neck, bringing him down even closer and opened his jaws wide. Now, with his vision already impaired and the rage plentiful, the bloodlust truly turned into a red mist and he lost control of his actions. He bit down as Farzin screamed. He took as large a mouthful as he could and did not stop biting until his teeth came together. He ignored the warm liquid as its metallic taste filled his mouth. The desperate scream was drowned out by the blood that flowed all over him, filling his ears and nostrils. When his jaws met he pulled Farzin closer still and took another bite. He paid no attention to the hands that battered his head, strongly at first but weaker and weaker. He bit down again and again, biting a little deeper into flesh each time until he came to bone - the spinal column at the back of the neck. He bit down once more, feeling it snap beneath his teeth, severing the life force that had flowed through that evil body and ending the aeons of hatred and wrath. When it finally stopped moving, when the hands stopped flapping, he shoved it away as time converged brutally upon it. He was utterly spent as he lay on the floor with his eyes closed and chest heaving. He did not stir as the corpse beside him rasped and rustled, contorted and contracted.
The Blood of the Infected (Book 3): Twice Bitten, Twice Die Page 36