Rising From Ashes: Empire of Blood Book Three (A Dystopian Vampire Novel)

by Robert S. Wilson

  They passed a small green sign that read, "Pleasant Shade Unincorporated." A moment later, they passed a small combination gas station and restaurant of the same name on the left. Yusef started watching for addresses on the right side of the road. When he found the street number that matched what he had for Chandler, he eased on the brakes and turned into the small gravel driveway, and put the car in park. He killed the engine and looked over at Umar's bruised and swollen face and fought tooth and nail to keep from letting the fear and horror in his heart come out in the expression on his face. "Umar, you stay here for a minute. I'll be right back. I just have to go and talk to an old friend real quick, okay?"

  Umar nodded, a blank but somewhat melancholy expression in the way his mouth hung open and the dazed far off look in his eyes. Yusef reached forward and hugged the boy's face to his chest for a moment and then kissed the top of his head and got out of the car. There was a large old rusty blue truck parked in the driveway. It didn't look quite like something Chandler would drive, but then this place didn't look quite like somewhere Chandler would live either. At least not the Chandler that Yusef had known over two decades ago. Before the war. Before the Empire rose to power.

  He walked up to the front door and, after a quick moment of near panic-filled hesitation, knocked. Inside a dog barked in low-pitched short percussive growls. A familiar but muted voice shouted from deep within the house, "Shut up, Lucy!" The dog's barking only increased in volume and fervor. "I said, shut the goddamn hell up, Lucy!" The slamming of doors and stomping of feet led closer and closer to the front door then suddenly it burst open and, shoulders hanging low, head cocked slightly, Chandler stood holding the door open with one hand, the other cupping over his eyes to block out the sun. The whites of those eyes were bloodshot, his face covered in a long scraggly graying yellow beard, and his skin hung tight against his bones for lack of muscle or fat.

  "Yusef?"

  "Hi, Chandler..." Yusef was at a loss for words. "It's great to see you."

  "Fuck it is. What the fuck are you doing here?"

  ***

  Umar watched as Daddy talked to the strange man standing inside the house. There was arguing, he could tell. He'd seen enough grown ups quietly argue to know when they were doing it. Their hands waved around and their shoulders drooped like they were using their arms to push down something really heavy and they often threw their arms up in the air like they were trying to fling stuff off of some invisible high shelf or something. It hurt real bad to move, but Umar couldn't help but scoot up in his seat to see what was going on. He didn't want anything bad to happen to his daddy. Not that bad stuff wasn't already happening to him and his daddy, but he knew it could get worse.

  He knew the church was mad at Daddy and that it was all his fault. He didn't mean to talk about Eid al-Fitr but the Sunday School teacher had asked him what his favorite day was and the words just came out before he could stop them. The thought of all those sweet treats he and his father had shared at the end of Ramadan that year had put a big happy grin on his face. Umar sniffed back the tears that were fighting to reclaim that face. He had tried really hard to be strong for Daddy while they drove and drove and drove, but now he was tired and the pain in his cheek and forehead was aching really badly and he wanted nothing more than to go home and lie down in his bed right then. But Daddy had said they couldn't go home. Not today, not ever, not again. He would miss Teddy and Monster, and Foxtrot and all his other toys and stuffed animals. Before he could stop himself, Umar began to sob. He watched as Daddy ran back to the car through his blurry tear-drenched eyes.

  Daddy opened the door and whispered with a quick sense of urgency, "What's wrong, Umie? What's the matter?" He shushed and cooed at Umar, but Umar just couldn't stop crying. After a minute, Daddy turned and hollered out to the strange man. "He's really had a rough day of it, so I'll just sit with him in here until he calms down and we'll be in in a little bit, okay?"

  The strange man nodded, his eyes staring back at Umar with that mean look that older boys gave him right before punching him in the arm or the chest or the stomach. This only made Umar cry harder and his daddy closed the door, took him in his arms and rocked him close to his chest. "It's okay, little man. Everything will be okay, I promise." Umar let loose all the hurt and sadness he'd been feeling ever since Pastor Bradley started hitting him and yelling at him. When his sobs broke up, Umar sniffed up the snot hanging out of his nose and looked up at Daddy.

  "Daddy, what's hair-I-see?"

  Daddy giggled for a moment. "What, Umie?"

  Chapter 33

  Birth and Rebirth

  The pain struck from no place she had ever been able to see in all her visions and all her centuries. It crept up like a cougar and struck just as swiftly. The Queen had been in labor many times, but this time was different. Much different. And though she tried not to think about it, she knew exactly what that meant. What would happen to her body and how painful that death would be. The two children inside her stretched their limbs and pushed and bit and tore inside of her and there was no stopping the constant agony of it.

  She grabbed hold of the bed her body lay upon, bending the metal frame of it with her bare hands. The ground around her began to tremble as her grip on her powers fought to keep from crushing everything within its reach. Dust sprinkled down from the cave ceiling and she willed back the immensity of the invisible force scrambling out from her in all directions. It smoothed some but still shook the ground beneath her. The next contraction came on then and the first one seemed a world away in both time and intensity. She screamed. A nearby glass shattered. Having nowhere to go, the liquid that had been inside it seemed to jump in the air in the glass's immediate absence.

  A deep moan escaped her. She knew then. It would be long. Not long by comparison to the eons since she had walked out of the desert and sailed across the seas. But long in the unending time that pain has a way of making itself continue on and on. Long in the way that uncomfortable silences stretch on forever and ever. It would be long and it would be terrible every moment of the way. The wave was riding its way down to calmer waters now and she began to breathe quickly in order to focus away the pain of it. She longed for her lovers, her favorite children to be by her side at this moment. But Hank was gone, Simon was gone, and Ishan...

  The tears came again then. She hadn't cried in twelve centuries before she shed them in Simon's presence just the day before and now here she was again. The ripples were rising again. She could feel the incoming upward motion as it lifted toward another crest. A deep, long involuntary moan erupted from her throat then as the wave reached full height. It held on longer than she expected and her voice rose in volume with the vibration of it. She could see the vibrating sound waves tail around the room and bounce off the walls, and then suddenly they morphed into something else. The glow of vision rose much faster than normal then and she was suddenly thrust within its flying cocoon. The world was left behind and only dreamscapes and illusions remained. All around her the spirits rose and cried out for her blood. She was an ethereal being in an ethereal plane now and the pain was some far away place where she had never been, never bled, never fucked, and never dared to breathe.

  The glow of her foresight wrapped around her like a long golden sash, twirling and flapping, her body twisting and spinning. They were all around her now, reaching and clawing and screaming. Rachel... Peter... Isingoma... Stanislov... So many sacrifices, so many children lost along the way. They spun around in her vision with her until they were draining away into the blackhole below her where all the dreams she'd ever had, all the visions she'd ever found a way to avoid went to die. Some place of nothing so vast it could hold all of the stars in just one atom of its never-ending void.

  Their bodies stretched as they were sucked away. And then she too felt the tug of that power, pulling her inside and then everything was spinning. The stars and the planets and the moons and...

  She woke up, still screaming. The reverberation o
f it shook the entire Hive. Rocks and debris dropped down from every ceiling. She could feel her children fleeing from their place of rest and crowding into each other in chaotic panic. She fought to hold back the power but it just wouldn't stop now. It had become a thing unleashed and she cried out as her mind reeled to try and get control again. Her children were screaming inside her head. Never had she felt so much fear from so many voices. She sent out a wave of comfort to them. My children, be still. It is just your mother's pains of labor.

  The voices calmed some and before long her closest ancient children came to her side, holding her and whispering in their thick mucousy voices. A long moment of discomfort trailed into relief and the Queen exhaled a heavy breath. Thank you, my children.

  ***

  Something was happening. Something big. She could feel it shaking the whole cave. The motion and the sound of it brought her to consciousness and she opened her eyes. Above her, the enemy Queen's children fluttered and scrambled about in the air. It had been over a day since Bellona woke to find her powers returning. She had in turn decided to rest and let them continue to grow. Now she could feel the fury of it growing within her, waiting to be released into the world again. All around her the ground quaked and all she could think of was revenge.

  She sent out the hatred and the betrayal and the bloodlust and let it wrap around the nearest souls who could feel it. Some were nearby, in this very cave. They were few, but they were drunk on the bile of her fury. Some were farther out, on the streets of the city up north. Gripping their fingers into fists and feeding off the burning of her tendrils. Fist fights erupted somewhere in the caves and wet skin slapped the pavement in the city as one man drove another down to the ground grinding the other’s face with his fist.

  Meat on meat on pavement.

  Bellona grinned with the glory of it all. She would have them spilling blood all the way here and the enemy's children would not be able to stop themselves from feeding on the offering she had provided. Then, the time to strike would come. Her laughter filled the cave and one by one she tore away the metal restraints from each arm and leg and then finally she head-butted the air sending the final collar up into the top of the cave and just nearly missing the chaotic swarm of vampires dotting around like angry flies.

  In Ishan’s body, Bellona rose to her feet and howled out a monstrous screech in the tongue of the ancients.

  The vampires above her stopped as one and ten thousand yellow glowing eyes shined down upon her.

  Chapter 34

  The Baptism of Jesse Murdoch

  Jesse Murdoch disappeared from behind the window. Alexandria's hands struggled to make sense of the back of her jeans blindly grabbing for her right back pocket. The door unlocked with a click and the knob turned. Unbearably, the air thickened just before the door swung open to reveal his body up close and personal. The sheer shock of his uncovered skin and exposed penis was enough to send Alexandria into complete panic. She fell backward. Her back slammed against the railing, pinning her arm behind her. A second later and Jesse was standing over her, grabbing her by the shirt and pulling her up to her feet. The moment her arm unpinned it was like every muscle in her body woke up. Her fingers wrapped around the taser. She pulled it up and, with the push of a button, sent him flying and crashing through the doorway, sideways. His had slammed against the door jam and blood splattered up toward the ceiling. As quickly as she could, she found the towel she had brought with her. She had thought a lot of scenarios through and, although this wasn't one of them, she had come prepared for just about anything.

  She raced forward and wiped down the door jam and all the specks of blood she could quickly find on the door and the hall floor. When she could see no more splotches of red, she dashed into the apartment and shut the door and locked the knob and the deadbolt and connected the chain. Jesse lay on the floor moaning in a low almost whispering voice. The walls were nearly spinning as reality caught up with Alexandria. She was really here. She was really doing this. A thrill ran through her body but quickly dissipated into morbid apathy. She snapped herself out of the swirling mix of emotions within her and focused instead on the plan she had went over at least three hundred times.

  Jogging over to the couch, she pulled her duffel bag around from her back and set it on the left seat cushion. A quick rummage inside and she found the heavy duty rope and duct tape she had brought. She spun around to survey the apartment looking for some kind of simple chair she could tie the bastard to. She just barely caught a glimpse of the leg of a black wooden table in one of the far rooms. Probably the kitchen, judging by its decor and the presence of a table inside. She race-walked into the room and grabbed the first chair she came to. It was solid enough, she figured, that it would hold up if he fought her.

  The chair screeched a little too loudly as she slid it across the hardwood floor toward the middle of the living room where Jesse's body lay crumpled and still, his voice calling out in that papery breathy tone. She knelt down and watched him for a moment just writhing there. It felt good and terrible all at once. Empowering and nauseating and equally disorienting. She was just about to reach down when it dawned on her that he could be better off than he seemed. Reaching behind her, she found the taser and without a second thought she tased him once again. His body convulsed for a moment and then released back into stillness.

  The taser made a loud plastic clang as she set it on the coffee table sitting in front of the couch and just beside Jesse's body. She reached down and pulled him up by the shoulders. She was in good shape for her size and age, but he was heavy. Real heavy. She nearly dropped him three times before she got him into the chair. Tying down his hands was first priority. It was quick work securing everything else after that. When it was all done, she had a mind to tie a bow on his head and send a picture to the Emperor himself. She laughed at the thought for a moment and then just as quickly her face melted back into the bitterness from whence it came. The bitterness turned to anger and then the anger turned into rage. Before she knew what she was doing, her fists were pounding against his face and shoulders, his head bouncing back and forth with each hollow blow like a ragdoll. When she finally managed to regain control and pull herself off of him, her hands were covered in blood. Jesse Murdoch was unconscious.

  Two large front teeth lay in a small puddle on the floor.

  Alexandria turned and dry heaved next to the couch. The desire to truly vomit was strong, but since she hadn't eaten there was nothing to come up. After that, she fell to her knees and sat there sobbing and coughing for a few minutes. When she was done, she decided to wait there. He would wake up eventually. Then... Then she could get started. Then the real pain would begin. Her original fury had flickered out, but she still had enough disgust with the man to drive her hatred, exhausted or not.

  Eventually, she got up from her place on the floor and took out the other various items she had packed for the "baptism" as she had been calling it in her head the past few days. The Baptism of Jesse Murdoch. Even now it had a nice ring to it. At least when her stomach wasn't turning over itself. Sitting on the couch now were razors, forks, tooth picks, a hammer, a cheese grater, an extension cable with the female end spliced off and two long copper wirings free. She was saving that last one for the final moment. She'd had it all planned out in her head even if it wasn't quite going to spec by this point. She could put it back on track easily enough.

  A few minutes later and she became impatient. She was already nervous about what she was doing for fear that someone would call the Imperial police, but now she was also ready to get started. The initial sickness had seemingly worn off and she couldn't stop thinking about her father. The last moment she had seen him alive burned in her mind like the phantom image of a flare. Duct tape in hand, she pulled out a long section of it and, still attached to the roll, she slapped it against his face, causing his head to weave back and forth for a second. Then she started wrapping it around and around until his mouth was tightly sealed with a good
thick series of layers. She stepped into the kitchen and started rifling through cabinets. A moment later and she found what she was looking for. She put the medium-sized bucket in the kitchen sink and turned on the cold side of the faucet.

  When it was mostly full she turned off the water and took it by the bendy metal wire handle and stood in front of Jesse preparing herself for what she was about to do. When she was ready she grabbed the bottom of the bucket with her other hand and poured the contents over Jesse's head all in one big splash. He immediately came to, moaning and whining in muffled tandem through the thick layer of gray tape covering his mouth.

  "Shut up." Her eyes burned into his. He kept on with the noise and so she picked up the hammer and gave his left knee a good hard thwack. The scream was loud enough that it was almost audible even through the tape. But after that it didn't take long for him to be completely silent. His eyes spoke volumes however. They were huge like saucers and dilated, the glow of the fluorescent lamp shining off of the whites of his eyes like little white-yellow dots. Now that she had his attention, she was ready to get to work.

  She turned and pulled out the only thing she hadn't yet taken from the duffel bag. She cradled the photo for a long moment before she finally turned and lifted it into Jesse's field of vision. When he saw it, his legs and arms flailed wildly within the limited mobility they had and his eyes rolled all around in his head as if he might find a way out of this place if only he kept those fleshy marbles moving in his head. "Of course you already know why I'm here but I wanted you to really remember. To have his face fresh in your mind when I do what I came here to do." She set the photo back in the bag gently and neatly and turned and spit in Jesse's face. He turned his head in a useless attempt to block the spittle just before it covered his cheek, his nose, and his left eye. He pushed his head forward manically in nearly every direction managing to free some of the goo from his face, but not much. The realization that he might vomit hit Alexandria, so she got out her towel still partially covered in his blood and wiped the mess off of him.