The Night Killers

by Senese, Rebecca M.

  Hands yanked him out of the crevice and shoved him forward toward the cavern. He lost his grip on Lucy’s fingers. He twisted to see her following. In the bobbing light of the glow light, her face was terse and pale. He wanted to apologize to her; he was supposed to be the expert but he hadn’t anticipated the size of this nest. He’d never seen one like this before. If they managed to get out, he’d have to send word to the Night Killers.

  Big if.

  Peter turned forward again and moved his head around, trying to get a good look at the cavern. One of the vampires noticed what he was doing. With a snarl, it snatched the light from behind his ear. Lucy cried out as they did the same to her. After a moment, the lights went out as the vampires smashed them.

  Darkness swallowed them as the vampires dragged them deeper inside.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Rick appreciated how time seemed suspended inside the Vampire’s Tooth. Today felt just like yesterday. Just a reflection in the ice at the bottom of his scotch glass. He took another small sip and let it roll along the top of his tongue before he swallowed it down. He sat at a table by himself. He hadn’t seen Ted from the Scourge since last night and he didn’t feel like talking to any of the others.

  He hadn’t bothered to see Mitchell. What was the point? He couldn’t believe the general was entirely innocent in the firings. His comment about treason indicated his true feelings. He’d never been out there. He couldn’t understand and Rick wasn’t going to help him, wasn’t going to play the puppet in Mitchell’s little show. Yes, we had to reduce the squads but we’re still focused on your security. What crap.

  Scotch swirled in the bottom of his glass. He resisted taking another sip. He was nursing this one, wanted to make it last at least forty-five minutes. He could allow one night of excess, one night of complete self-pity but he wouldn’t make that kind of drowning a habit. He’d seen too many squad members go down that path. He had no interest in joining them.

  So what could he do now that he was off the squad? He’d heard of the occasional business man wanting to travel to the other domed cities. They always needed consultants and body guards for the trip. Maybe he’d look into that. In another city, he could scout around in their squads, see if there was any openings. If he found one, he could send word back to Sami.

  He wondered if she’d join him.

  He couldn’t think about that or the possibility of her refusing. That was in the future. Right now he had to figure out what he was going to do now. He couldn’t stay in this city the way it was. There was nothing here for him now.

  The door creaked open. The murmurs around him grew silent. Shuffling footsteps entered and drew closer. Dammit, not Mitchell again, Rick thought. He didn’t want to deal with the man. He turned.

  The short black woman shuffled toward him. She held her shoulders back and her head straight. Hundreds of wrinkles folded her skin. The dark eyes that peered out of those folds locked onto him. He felt her glare from across the room.

  As Gran got closer, Rick stood up, pulling out a chair for her. She sat down and waved at him to take his seat. He sat down across from her. The waitress ambled over and waited.

  “Coffee,” Gran said. “He’ll have one too. Get rid of that.” She pointed at the glass.

  The waitress raised her eyebrows and looked at Rick. He leaned away from the glass.

  “As she said.”

  The waitress picked up his half full glass and walked away.

  “Nice to see you, Mae,” Rick said.

  “What are you doing here?” she said. Her voice came out as a hiss. “Why aren’t you out there with Sami? Why aren’t you looking after her?”

  He pressed his hand against the hard grain of the table. The words felt tight in his throat. He wished he hadn’t let the waitress take the glass away.

  “Rick, are you going to answer me?”

  He looked up at her. She was leaning forward, one fist curled on the table in front of her. At the look on his face, she leaned back. The fist uncurled and her fingers plucked at his shirt sleeve.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m off the squad.” He spat the words out. It felt like expelling poison.

  “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “I’m off the squad. I resigned. They made me resign. It was that or be tried for treason.” He gave her a halting account of the squad meeting and the raid, ending with an abbreviated version of his questioning.

  When he finished, the waitress returned with two cups of coffee. Gran shook her head.

  “That’s not possible. I don’t believe it. The Council would never do such a thing.”

  Rick pulled a cup toward himself, glad to have something to do with his hands. The porcelain scalded his fingers as he wrapped them around it. He took a fast breath with the pain but didn’t let go. Somehow it felt good to feel it.

  “The Council…” He shook his own head. “They want to dismantle the squads all together.”

  “Maybe there’s a good reason for that.”

  He looked up at the old woman, shocked. “Mae you can’t think that.”

  “I don’t like my grand daughter out there risking her life,” she said. The cup trembled in her hand so she set it back on the table. “I want her safe.”

  “If there are no squads out there she won’t be safer in here,” he said.

  “Those things can’t get in here,” she said.

  “It would only take one. All it would have to do is sneak in and turn a few, then more would get in and turn others. Before you know, we’d be overrun. It’s happened before, Mae.”

  She stiffened her shoulders. “No, it hasn’t.”

  “Yes, it has. They don’t want regular people like you to know that. They want you to think the dome is invincible. Nothing is invincible, Mae. The only reason it works is because we have layers of protection. The squads are the outer layer, keeping the vampires from getting too close. Remove that layer and you remove an early warning system as well as leave our final layer vulnerable.” He reached over and grabbed her hand. Her flesh felt cool in his palm. Her bones were thin like straw.

  “I don’t want Sami to be hurt either, Mae, but she works out there to take care of us all.”

  “And you aren’t out there with her,” the old woman snapped. She yanked her hand out of his grasp. “I don’t care if you are resigned, you should be with her, taking care of her.”

  He gripped the coffee cup, feeling the heat pierce his skin. “They won’t let me.”

  “They would stop you?”

  He nodded. “They’d arrest me.”

  She sat rigid for a moment longer, then a slump passed over her like a wave, dipping her head down, then her slouching her shoulders, and curving her back. She looked suddenly twenty years older.

  “I can’t be losing any more of my people.” Her voice was a whisper.

  “You haven’t lost Sami,” he said. “She’s smart, she’ll be back.”

  Gran shook her head.

  “Who are you talking about, Mae?”

  She lifted her head. The wrinkles looked even deeper in her skin. “Michael. He’s gone.”

  Rick stiffened, felt the hard wood of the chair back dig into his shoulder blades. “What do you mean he’s gone?”

  “He hasn’t been minding me for weeks. Out running around all night with his friends, too cool to stay home with me. I figured it was his age, boys like that want to be independent. I didn’t pay it no mind. But then I heard talkin’.”

  “What kind of talking?”

  Gran tried to lift the cup again but the liquid sloshed over the rim. Rick took it from her fingers and set it down on the table. Her fingers clutched his hand. They felt so thin, so frail, yet he felt the nails digging into his palm.

  “Talk about joining the squads.”

  Her voice broke. Her fingers tightened, the nails scraping his skin. He held onto her hands. She struggled to hold back a sob, her shoulders shook.

  “Mae …�
� he said. “You don’t know.”

  “You can find out.” She hiccupped and sniffled. She pulled her hands away from him and dug out a kerchief from her pocket. A few more sniffs and a blown nose, and she stuffed it back into her pocket. Her eyes were red rimmed as she met his gaze.

  “You can ask, see if he joined, see if he’s left the city. Maybe he can serve inside, be in dispatch or something like that. Something that keeps him here under the dome. I don’t want him outside. Please, Rick.”

  “Of course, I’ll ask,” he said. “I’ll do it right away. I’ll come see you later and let you know what I find out.”

  Her lips trembled as if trying to smile. “You’ll make sure you come by?”

  “Of course, Mae. You know I will.”

  The lips finally managed a small smile. “Of course you will. You’re a good boy.” Her fingers brushed against the coffee cup. “Oh, the coffee.”

  “Never mind that,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, Mae.”

  She patted his hand. “You are a good boy.”

  She pushed herself up from the table. He stood as well and walked her to the door. Her shoulders stooped a little this time. At the door to the bar, she turned back to him. The wrinkles seemed deeper on her face, carrying more inside that before. “You’ll come by for sure?”

  He took her hand and pressed it between both of his. “Of course I will.”

  She nodded once and then slipped out the door.

  He stood at the door for a moment, trying to digest what he’d heard. Too much happening too fast. Losing Peter and Raj, the squads, Sami, his resignation, now Michael. Why did everything have to be a disaster all at once? But at least this he felt like he could do something about. He could find out where Michael was and tell Gran.

  Purpose straightened his posture and sped up his gait. He returned to the bar and paid his tab. Fortunately it was much smaller than it could have been. He scooped up his cred chits and stuffed them in his pocket. He had an idea of where to begin, but first he had a couple of things to do.

  He returned to his room and dug out his old casual uniform. God, how many years had it been since he’d worn that? He took a fast shower and smoothed hair growth inhibitor on his face. In short time, he looked almost presentable. He slipped the uniform on. Sure enough, both the pants and the shirt were just a bit big. Fighting vampires was great for keeping the weight down, he thought.

  The clean, ordered figure in the mirror looked vaguely familiar, like he was looking at an old photograph of himself. He’d looked like this at the beginning of the squads, he remembered. Times change. But this outfit would get him into USC.

  He grabbed his now expired ID card and left. After this little trick they would probably boot him out of this room for good. He’d end up in one of the underground dorms. Burn that bridge when he got to it.

  He choose a manned door off the central access grid. A few moments of watching from a distance decided him on the path to take. He ruffled his hair and then strode fast toward the left door. He waved the card at the access reader and as expected, it beeped in alarm.

  “Dammit,” he said. “What the hell is this? I’m late for profile assignments.”

  The door attendant, a young man dressed in a spotless uniform, came forward. “Can I help you, captain?”

  “Someone’s screwed up my access card. Damn that Mitchell, I’ll have his head for this.”

  The attendant stiffened. He’d recognized Mitchell’s name and any captain who spoke so dismissively must have power.

  “I can take care of that for you, sir.” He reached for the card.

  “I don’t have time.” Rick waved it and stuffed it back in his pocket. “Just open this door and I’ll get Mitchell to deal with it. Serve him right.”

  “I need authorization for that, sir.”

  Rick fixed the young man with his best glare. “I’m already running behind, private, do you want to make me later?”

  “I’m not a... oh...” The attendant paused. He glanced over at the other doors, both manned by older attendants.

  “I don’t have all day,” Rick said. He folded his arms. “But I’m happy to let them bust your ass instead of mine.”

  The attendant opened the door. Rick grumbled on the way through and didn’t stop until he turned a corner. He felt for the poor kid but he needed to be in here. He picked up the pace as he headed down the hall. Now that he was inside, he had to consider his actions. His access privileges had been cancelled with his resignation. He knew he’d be able to break into the system but he’d only get one shot. He had to choose the precise target.

  He recognized a few faces and managed to duck down other hallways to avoid them. He would not let himself get caught. He had to report back to Gran and he’d be damned if any of these idiots stopped him.

  He took a deep breath at the surge of anger. Where the hell was that coming from? He wanted to look after Gran, and of course he did. He’d known her for years. She was almost like his own grandmother. But that wasn’t it. Be honest here, he thought. This was his way to make it up to Sami. He’d acted like an ass and this was his penance. She may never know but that didn’t really matter. He’d know and he’d know if he didn’t make the honest effort for Gran.

  Moving deeper into the USC headquarters, he triggered his ear bud to pick up any emergency signals. If anyone set off an alarm, he’d know immediately. That few seconds might give him the chance to get away. Raj had modified the ear buds to help pick up vampire nest, using some of the frequencies that Peter scanned as a psychic. Rick didn’t understand all of it but Raj had somehow adjusted the ear buds to translate the information into sound. Too bad his technical expertise hadn’t stopped the vampires from killing him.

  At an inner security gate, Rick paused and then punched in the most recent codes. Here is next spot he might trigger an alarm. But the door clicked and slid open. They hadn’t changed the codes yet. Sloppy, he thought. That’s what they got for living under the safety of the dome.

  He slipped inside and walked down the carpeted hallway. Most senior officials were on this floor. What would they do if a vampire got in here? Probably be in denial even as the thing ripped out their throats.

  A buzz of voices sounded in Rick’s ear bud. He stopped. Not an alarm. Talking. A teleconference or something. He couldn’t distinguish the words. Why would they be broadcasting on this frequency, he wondered. An undercurrent buzzed in the background and he realized it was encoded. Raj, that rebel, had input a generic unencoder in the ear bud.

  Rick swallowed around the lump in his throat. That was just like Raj, adding something extra for fun. He’d probably never expected it to be used. Might as well use it then, Rick thought.

  Two doors down, he found a deserted office. The cleared desk and empty cabinets affirmed his assumption. He coded a lock on the door and sat down in the office chair. Clenching his teeth, he triggered the ear bud control panel and boasted the signal. The voices sharpened. A blink of his eye raised the volume.

  “...reports from as far away as New Mexico,” said a man’s voice.

  “It can’t be coordinated.” Rick recognized General Formessa’s gravelly voice. “They’re animals. They don’t have the technology to communicate.”

  “We don’t know enough about their abilities to know for certain what they can do,” the same male voice said.

  “We can all agree something is going on.” Mitchell’s voice sounded.

  “I don’t think we can,” Formessa said. “All I’m hearing is conjecture and no hard facts. You say your spotters are telling you this?”

  “Yes, sir,” said the unknown man.

  “Well, there you go. How can we trust what a spotter says?”

  Rick shook his head. Formessa was notorious for distrusting spotters. He didn’t like the idea of anyone with psychic ability, as if they were going to care about whatever he had in his narrow, unimaginative mind.

 
; “Sir, we’ve had confirmation...”

  “I think we need to hear from Portwell,” Mitchell said. “Wilson, are you there?”

  “Yes, sir. We’ve had reports of larger scale attacks as well. They are more infrequent but I believe there is some sense behind them,” Wilson said.

  “Can you be specific?” Mitchell said.

  “As you know, we had a bad run of contaminated beef. We’ve been trading and transporting cattle in from the midwest. One of our convoys sustained a heavy attack last month. We adjusted the route and sent along squad members as extra security. While these squads were away from their regular duties, attacks in those territories increased by twelve percent.”

  “That’s hardly significant,” Formessa said.

  “Tell that to the people killed.”

  Rick could imagine Formessa bristling at that remark, sitting up as straight as his stooped shoulders would let him, puffing out his thin chest.

  “Do you have anything else?” Mitchell said. Typical of him to swoop in and keep things on track, Rick thought. He had to admit the man did know how to run a meeting.

  “No, sir.”

  “That’s everything we have so far, Councilman Bennett.”

  “Thank you, General Mitchell, General Formessa. These reports are very interesting. The Council will be discussing them further. Rest assured we’ll consider our actions carefully.”

  “Councilman, I need to address the Council about the current situation with the squads.” Mitchell’s voice tightened.

  “You are on our agenda in the future,” Bennett said. The smooth voice sounded familiar and Rick thought he remembered seeing Malcolm Bennett around the USC buildings before. He was one of the youngest Council members, one of the ones with absurd faith in the dome.

  “I really need to discuss this now, especially in light of this information.”

  Rick could hear the tension in Mitchell’s voice. Maybe he wasn’t so happy with how things were going; Rick realized he might have underestimated the general.

  “As I mentioned, we will be discussing this. I don’t see how it affects the squad situation. We need to have a better handle on them and give less of a target to the infected hostiles.”