RISING FROM ASHES:
EMPIRE OF BLOOD BOOK THREE
Robert S. Wilson
Rising From Ashes: Empire of Blood Book Three
First Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2015 Robert S. Wilson
All rights reserved.
for Michele
Part One: A Million Empty Wells
Chapter 1
Jonny Cross
Light streamed past both sides of Jonny’s body in a fluorescent blur of colors as he made his way through downtown New York. The vampires had been on his trail for weeks now and tonight they were close enough he could see them catching up with him, could hear their rushing footsteps. He knew they were fast enough to catch him and he couldn't understand why they didn't just snatch him out of reality with a flash of pale skin and dark clothes. It wasn't like anyone in the city would give a second look. It was New York City for Christ sakes. Even before the Empire took over it hadn't exactly been known as a city of compassion.
So they were keeping their distance from him, that much was obvious. But why? Jonny skidded the rubber bottom of his shoes against the sidewalk as he turned a corner, barely missing the street and a few pedestrians. Just before he passed the hard cinder-brick wall of the building next to him, he caught a glimpse of one of them. The vampire smirked in his direction, his face about eight feet off the ground with long yellow messy hair tangling down from his scalp and a big thick matted beard that masked a heavy jaw attached to an even heavier head. Strong heavy. Big heavy, like a man who'd spent all his living years hitting the gym day in and day out and then died and reawakened a massive chiseled sculpture of brute.
Jonny felt like an awful tiny mouse being chased by one hell of a nasty tom cat. He let his feet fall faster, having paced himself more evenly prior to actually being within visual distance of his pursuer. As he neared the end of the long cinder building, he looked over his shoulder and saw nothing and was just about to turn back and stop for a breather when he crashed into something painfully solid. Almost too solid. He bounced back and crumpled onto the sidewalk before he could get his head around to look at what he'd just run into. Blood ran down his scalp from where it had hit the crack in the concrete sidewalk and his vision was blurry but he could see straight enough to make out the mammoth monster in front of him staring down and grinning.
"Jonny Cross." The vampire spoke like some Neanderthal reading its first word from a cue card.
"Uh-huh, that's me, buddy." Jonny brushed off the thin sparkly dust of glass and dirt that now covered his pants courtesy of the lovely sidewalk and rose to his feet. He stared right into the vampire's eyes. "You found me. Now what the fuck do you want?"
The vampire's grin grew and he laughed. Jonny couldn't help imagining a giant Viking helmet on the guy's head as his muscles jiggled while he guffawed in that deep jughead voice.
"What's the matter? You some kind of monosyllabic motherfucker or sumthin'?"
The vampire's laughter ended abruptly and he looked at Jonny with glistening eyes of confusion.
Now it was Jonny's turn to laugh. "You have no idea what I just said, do you?" His laughter grew to an echo slapping back from the building across the street and Jonny went to turn and run. Before he even moved his head twenty degrees, the bulky vampire's hand clamped onto his neck and picked him up off the ground, his feet dangling in mid air. The pressure of the creature's hand burned against his skin and he knew that it was only a matter of seconds before his neck snapped if he didn't get away.
The vampire smiled up at him again. "You funny, eh?"
Jonny squeaked out an unintelligible response and the vampire's head tossed back with another uproar of laughter.
"You funny now."
Jonny managed to swing his foot hard enough that it nicked the vampire in the chin and again the laughter ceased and the vampire's face stewed with rage as the pressure around Jonny's neck grew. Jonny screamed as his whole body went into a cold sweat. He was on the water’s edge of passing out when a familiar scratchy voice came from behind the vampire and up the street.
"Harek," the voice yelled. And before it could even echo back to its source, the enormous hand around Jonny's neck loosened some and he felt himself gently lowering to the ground. In more display than need, he coughed and grabbed at his throat as he leaned over in front of the creature he now assumed was Harek.
Slow casual steps echoed from the end of the street behind Harek making their way nearer to Jonny and his new companion. A figure in a long black trench coat came into view just beyond the vampire's thick girth and when the dim glow of the street light touched its face, Jonny's eyes widened with angry recognition. The Emperor smiled in response and stepped uncomfortably close.
"Please forgive Harek, his temper is as vast as it is ancient." And with that Harek stepped back and turned away as if to look out for any surprise guests that might happen along this small frightening gathering.
If Jonny had been afraid before, he was certainly terrified now. The fact that the Emperor had sought him out personally had landed on Jonny like a ton of bricks and he was sure there were some stray blocks about to fall as an aftershock. "Wh-what do you want?" Jonny did his best to keep his shaking hands in his pockets and not try and turn and run for it again. Besides, there was no way he could get away now.
The Emperor grabbed Jonny's chin and turned it sideways looking over the long scar along his cheek and running his fingers across the far side of his face and then locking them behind Jonny's head. A grip tighter than Harek's pulled his face up close to the Emperor's and he glared into Jonny's eyes. "You've been running a long time, Mr. Cross. A long long time indeed. I could barely even begin to count the number of times your name has ended up on the Penitent list and yet you always seem to slip through Imperial fingers."
Jonny swallowed hard, his neck feeling like a rabbit's foot in a vice.
"I won't pretend not to revere the number of my followers you have led astray with your petty Catholic blasphemy. How many underground churches have managed to spring up wherever you happen to roam, Jonny? Twenty? Thirty, perhaps?"
Jonny stared into those fierce blue eyes less than an inch from his own and said nothing.
The Emperor smiled again. "Oh come on, son. Surely a man who has amassed such a movement must feel some ounce of pride at what he's accomplished? No?
"Well then, perhaps you're not as faithful to your holy trinity and its people as I thought you were. I suppose you'll feel no ill will if I send my legions of vampires into those filthy tunnels for a real communion—a truly worthy sacrifice of blood far more gruesome than the solitary crucifixion of your precious Christ!"
Jonny's face constricted with panic and a yelp of horror fell from his mouth.
"Oh, perhaps you are the man I was looking for, yes? The faithful servant who would die for the sins of the world." The Emperor laughed. "I'll tell you what. Let me offer you something your Christ could never give you. You do something for me—without question and without failure—and I'll turn a blind eye to the congregations of rats you have living down in my sewers and see to it that no harm comes to them." His hand relaxed behind Jonny's head and a deep terrible throbbing replaced the pressure of those unnaturally strong hands. Jonny tried rubbing his neck but it did no good.
"And just what do you need me to do that you can't get done yourself?"
"Jonny boy, the time for you to know has not yet arrived. The third cock has yet to crow if you get my drift and I have something much more important—to you at least—to show you now. You see,
Jonny, there's just one more piece of... insurance... I have taken in case your resolve starts to waver in the tasks I am yet to assign you."
Jonny's body temperature dropped to near zero and he was shaking uncontrollably now. "Wh-wh-what the hell are you talking about? What do—"
The Emperor's hand grabbed the back of Jonny's neck again as he turned to walk back the way he came from, pulling Jonny along with him. Jonny stumbled to keep in step with the man.
"It'll be much more effective if you see what's at stake than if I tell you myself, Mr. Cross. I'm counting on your cooperation in this matter and if I'm to feel confident I've got your full attention, I'll need to see your face when you fully realize how imperative your situation truly is."
A black car waited at the end of the street. Harek opened the back passenger side door and the Emperor slid inside, dragging Jonny along behind him. Inside it smelled of new car and lemon-scented car freshener. Jonny made eye contact with the driver through the rearview mirror for a split second before a thick black pane of glass separated the back seat from the rest of the world. "Relax, Mr. Cross. In due time, you'll be back in your sewer scurrying about again." Jonny stared out the cloudy dark glass of the tinted passenger window seeing more of his reflection than the city outside. He'd never seen his face so visibly terrified before.
A voice crept into the backseat of the car from some unseen place. “My Lord, you have an incoming call waiting from Colonel Chiles.”
“I’ll take it back here, thank you.” Reflected in the glass, Jonny watched as the Emperor put his hand up to his left ear. “Yes, Colonel, what is it?” A long silence seemed to stretch on forever as Jonny tried not to focus on the Elephant in his own personal room.
“I see.” The Emperor’s hand pressed into the car’s interior and violently ripped into it then gripped tightly onto an internal spring in the cushioning. “Don’t send anyone now. I have something else in mind. In the meantime, inform all state governors that I want the number of nightly broadcasts doubled in response to this latest development. That should teach them a lesson they won’t soon forget.”
The man really had no conscience at all. Jonny couldn’t stop his mind reeling anymore. He was sure he already knew what it was the Emperor was going to show him. Joseph Caesar’s face reflected in the glass from behind him. Jonny closed his eyes and prayed to Mother Mary that he was wrong. Then he prayed again for guidance.
And for protection from the devil sitting only inches to his left wearing a wide wicked grin and staring ahead at nothing.
Chapter 2
Enemy Ghost
Darby lay stretched out on his stomach watching the Commander and several Foederati soldiers through the nightscope of his stake-rifle from the top of some nameless industrial building. His finger itched for its chance to pull the trigger as they walked through war-torn streets toward the center of town. Carlisle was much smaller than any place he ever wanted to live. Born and raised in Chicago, he couldn't imagine just what the hell anyone would do on any given day or night in such a tiny little shithole. Taking aim, he could see the targets gathering in the city square. About thirteen or so thirsty Imperial vampires corralled around a line of men and women of nearly all colors, shapes, and sizes. It was time for what the Empire had dubbed the “Nightly Broadcast.”
More like the nightly slaughter.
As more and more men and women joined the Foederati, the Emperor's tactics to keep the sheep in line had become exponentially desperate and violent. This latest shepherd's pull was simple. Anyone caught trying to join the Foederati was rounded up and given to the vampires... on live TV. Darby's scope zoomed in on a woman with fearful wild blue eyes and knotted hair leading up to the pale hand of one of the vampires as he looked down on her with black orbs of gluttonous hunger.
The Commander stepped into view of the scope and stood tall in plain sight of the vampires. From this distance anything that was said down there was nothing more than a whisper in the wind but it was obvious this new Commander had their attention. The creatures turned from their waiting feast and crept toward the man as he stayed there, calm and fearless. The radio bleeped the first signal to all snipers and Darby locked onto one of the targets.
The blood suckers quickly crowded around the Commander to the point that Darby was barely able to keep up with his target and still the man stood tall, confident. The second signal went through and Darby fired in unison with twelve other snipers into the crowd of Imperial vampires. At least ten of them went down and in that same instant the Commander disappeared along with the crowd of men and women and several more of the vampires.
Crazy bastard probably just took his last stand.
The third signal came over the radio and Darby locked and loaded another stake then took aim. Only three vampires were visible now. Darby put his eye on the middle one, a stocky fellow with short cropped black hair now wielding a large angled knife shrinking away as if he were backed into a corner. Darby waited with his finger on the trigger. The three vampires began to back away from where the Commander had been standing to where the line of victims had been waiting to die.
In the blink of an eye the middle one went down. "What the..." Darby moved his scope around trying to figure out what had just happened. It was as if the creature had blinked out of existence in a blur of movement. He aimed the scope lower. The Commander held the vampire down on the ground with his own mouth pressed into the bastard’s neck. "Holy fucking Christ," Darby said. The next signal nearly made him jump in surprise and Darby found himself scrambling to locate one of the other targets. By the time he did they were already dead and the vampire the Commander had somehow bitten lay lifeless and still.
Darby tried to focus his scope on something—anything—with shaking hands. He caught a glimpse of the Commander standing as still as he'd been before now looking directly into Darby's scope, eyes shining extra night-vision green and blood dripping down his chin. Darby swallowed and immediately took his face away from the scope. He'd heard all about the new Commander and how he wasn't completely human. About how his son had been killed by the Emperor and yet, he had no clue just what to make of this new leader other than to realize that he'd nearly pissed his own pants in response to the sight he'd just seen. He started to pack up his equipment, dreading having to meet up at the rendezvous point.
***
Hank wiped the blood from his mouth and looked down at the three soldiers who had come with him into the target zone. One lay dying, screaming out as his blood pooled out around him. The other two men sat on the pavement next to him holding his hands. Hank knew he should have come alone but the three had insisted on staying with him in case he needed their help. He wouldn't make that mistake again. Too many lives were lost all the time. If he could keep even one more of his men alive, that was more important than humoring their pride or building up their confidence.
All around the perimeter, snipers and soldiers and the men and women who'd been scheduled to die came out of the shadows from various hiding places. To his left, the camera was still rolling. Hank walked over to it and, after aiming it away from his face, crushed it with his bare hands. He paid no mind to the many eyes watching him as he came back to stand over his fallen man. Leaning down, Hank gently took Gary Ruttinger’s right hand from the soldier who’d been holding it and looked into his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Commander..."
"Don't... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you come."
The soldier opened his mouth to argue, but Hank shook his head and patted the man’s shoulder. “You fought well, soldier…” Hank squeezed Gary’s hand and held firm until his eyes stopped moving and simply stared into the ether. Hank made himself watch every moment, letting the sight of it fill him with more hatred, more determination to do what he knew now he was always meant to do. What at great cost to himself had been etched into his destiny from the moment he was born. And he goddamn well meant to carry it out if it took his last breath to finish the task.
As the
other two men moved the body to a stretcher and lifted it, a truck pulled up and several more soldiers got out to help move Gary’s body into the back. Hank watched this with detachment, his mind more on the consequences of what they had just done. Would the Emperor continue murdering innocent people on live TV? Was it possible his face had been visible on that broadcast? No. He knew better than that. He had kept the camera to his back at all times.
A crowd of soldiers and snipers watched in silence as he walked up. Every man he came near stiffened and stood tall in a gesture of respect.
"At ease." Some of the men loosened but most did not. "Great job, guys. We hit our mark and none of the civilians were harmed. However, we did lose one of our own and for that I'm greatly sorry. But we can only hope his sacrifice won't be in vain when the word spreads around about what happened here tonight."
The men cheered a multitude of unintelligible responses.
"Snipers, I want you to head back to H1. The rest of you I want to start seeking out refuge in the area and set up a perimeter guard about four to six blocks in diameter of this place. I doubt it'll be long before we have some nasty company headed our way and we had better be prepared. Donovan..."
"Yes, sir," a lieutenant in his mid-twenties shouted.
"Go ahead and release the vampires from the trucks and relay the orders I just gave. We're gonna likely need them."
"Yes, sir, Commander, sir."
Hank nodded and Donovan took off in the direction of the trucks on the southern end of town. All around him the other soldiers and snipers were following their orders and dispersing to their various destinations. Hank took a deep breath. Things were about to get a whole hell of a lot more interesting.
Chapter 3
Rising From Ashes: Empire of Blood Book Three (A Dystopian Vampire Novel) Page 1