Vampire Apocalypse: Descent Into Chaos (Book 2)

by Derek Gunn

  How do you give hope to those who have lost everything they hold dear? How do you explain God’s will to people who had been used as cattle for the last two years and who now found themselves in a world with far more danger and even less hope than before the serum took away their will? Sandra did not envy him.

  Beside him sat John Kelly. He was the current chairman of the committee, which worked on a round robin format, giving each person two weeks in the position before passing it on to another member. Kelly had been on the original committee but was still as unlikable as he had always been. He was a wiry man with a thin face that was actually quite handsome, in a sharp kind of way. His voice was high and reedy and he tended to speak through his nose when he got excited, but, at 35, he was still a very eligible catch in the community. His eyes, though, were cold, and Sandra found it hard to like him. Kelly, though part of the original committee, could not be relied upon for support, and he seemed to delight in voting against anything that Harris might put forward. It had been his casting vote that had stymied Harris’s latest request for approval for the current raid.

  Phil Regan took his seat and caught Sandra’s eye and smiled. Sandra snarled in response and looked away quickly, instantly regretting her action as it gave him another small victory. His cronies Ian Phelps and Patricia Lohan sat on either side of him, smiling at Sandra as they took their seats. Ian Phelps had been a builder by trade and he knew every trick in the book when dealing with people, whether they were honest or dishonest. He was very good at finding what it was that people wanted and making sure that they understood what they would have to do to get it. His addiction to alcohol was plainly visible in the burst capillaries in his face and in the large gut that drooped far over his belt, but his eyes showed a keen intelligence that you would be very unwise to underestimate.

  Lohan, in comparison, was beautiful. Her figure was well proportioned and the clothes she wore accentuated her body to great effect. Her cheekbones were high and prominent but a small nose softened the lines and gave her an innocent, impish look, though the woman was anything but innocent. Her hair was auburn and reminded Sandra of the sky on a stormy morning in autumn, and her eyes were a deep brown that held you when you spoke to her. Sandra was honest enough to wonder whether her feelings towards the woman were tinged a bit by jealousy but she was fairly certain that her impression was based more on intuition than envy. As far as Sandra was concerned, Lohan was the most dangerous woman that she had ever met and she feared her far more than Phil Regan.

  Regan wanted to rule, he felt it was his right and his destiny to lead others. He needed to dominate but he was also quite naïve. He was an evil bastard who would step on anyone to get what he wanted, but he lacked the intelligence to set in place the schemes needed to get him to the top. Left to his own devices, he would not get very far, but Lohan and Phelps were a different story. They were the ones who were prepared to do anything to make sure Regan made it to the top. They would use the man’s natural charisma, something they themselves lacked, to get to the top, and then who knew what would happen? Sandra shuddered as she saw an image of Regan grinning broadly as a smiling Lohan slit his throat.

  The final member of the committee was Denis Jackson. He was new to the group but was well capable of ensuring that his short time on the committee did not mean that he was in any way ineffective. He wore his clothes well, preferring bright colors that clashed against his dark skin, but seemed to suit his ebullient personality regardless. He was quick to smile but he was clever and he often caught nuances around the table that Sandra had missed entirely. Although he was a new member he was not allied to the other new members or with Harris’s older committee members, preferring to sit on the fence and watch the proceedings before committing himself to a course of action. He had proven himself honorable in his decisions to date and Sandra could not see him siding with Regan.

  “We have a lot to get through,” Kelly banged the flat of his hand on the table and the room grew quieter. “Thank you,” Kelly continued and then looked around him with as stern a look as he could manage. “It seems we have a problem,” he paused as he glanced towards Regan, but then seemed to lose his nerve and moved quickly away and scanned the other faces around the table. Unfortunately, Regan and his colleagues sat directly opposite him so he was forced to turn back to them as he swept the table.

  Lohan and Phelps grinned broadly at him as they caught his eye and Kelly dropped his eyes to the few papers in front of him as his skin blushed. What’s going on? Sandra felt her stomach drop as she watched Kelly’s reaction.

  “It seems that some information had been inadvertently released…”

  “Inadvertently, my ass!” Sandra was well known for her short fuse but, she hoped, was also known for her integrity. She was damned if she would let Regan appear as the only honest member of this committee. She leaned forward as she interrupted Kelly. “He knew exactly what he was doing …”

  “Sandra,” Kelly placed his hands on the table in a calming gesture, “I’m sure there was no…”

  “You weren’t there, he enjoyed playing to the crowd,” Sandra continued, raising her voice to drown out Kelly’s attempted interruption. “He used the information to set himself up as an honest broker for the elections …”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Regan finally decided to enter the discussion. “It was not my intention to cause a rift, merely…”

  “Bullshit!” Sandra leaned halfway across the table as her anger took over. On one level she was aware that she was not doing the committee any favors losing her temper like this, but she had gone too far already and was powerless to stop herself. She was about to continue when Father Reilly interrupted. His voice was not raised or angry in any way, but his tone was filled with a threat that defied the calm manner in which he spoke.

  “Perhaps you could tell us all what your intentions were, then, Mister Regan.”

  “I merely wanted to answer Miss Harrington’s question. In the interest of the greater public good, I was trying to explain why these raids were not in our best interest. Unfortunately, in so doing I, inadvertently, let it slip that Mister Smith was not a doctor. It was an accid…”

  “It’s not really something that one lets slip, is it Mister Regan?” Denis Jackson interrupted and Sandra was pleased to see that she seemed to have the lion’s share of support around the table. “I mean… it’s not really something that one would normally bring up in conversation. You are just as aware as the rest of us of how important this issue about the serum is. Mister Smith may not be a doctor,” he nodded to the contingent of men and women who made up the public gallery, holding each of them with his gaze before finally continuing on to the next, “but we are certain that his findings are accurate and that our fellow human beings all over the world will start dying in the coming months if we do not come up with a solution.”

  He paused again and swept the visitors with his eyes, trying to impress upon them the importance of his words. “Women and children will die first, their brains will start to bleed internally and they will die without knowing why. In a few months the food supply will get so low for the vampires that they will scour the country for humans. It will not be long before they smell us out, and then they will start again, using cruelty and fear to keep us in line rather than chemicals. Or maybe they’ll just tear us all apart in a food frenzy. Is that what you want?”

  He looked earnestly at the members of the gallery and Sandra could see doubt in their eyes for the first time. The horror of what Jackson was describing hit them all hard. “We did not hide this from you for any personal gain,” Jackson continued in a softer tone. “We just did not want to be bogged down in pointless arguments while others died. Though, in our arrogance, we have caused more damage in not trusting you with the truth than we realized, and for that I am truly sorry.” For the first time he dropped his gaze and the gallery seemed to sigh with relief. A low murmur swept through the small group and Sandra could see that Jackson was swaying them. �
��But petty power struggles are not the answer. It has left us all in a delicate situation. And you, Mister Regan, it would seem, in quite a positive light. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “That was not my inte…” Regan began but he was interrupted again.

  “No, I’m sure it wasn’t,” Jackson continued, “but you must appreciate our position and how this whole situation appears.”

  “Of course I do.” Regan was a shrewd judge of people and he could see the effect that Jackson’s impassioned plea had had on the gallery. He smiled as he looked earnestly at the public gallery, and Sandra could not help admitting that he was really good at this. If it had not been for the two grinning hyenas sitting on either side of him she might actually have believed him. “And let me state that I will immediately tender my resignation from the committee. Under the circumstances, I am sure …”

  “Oh no,” Father Reilly interrupted with a smile that did not reach anywhere near his eyes. “I’m afraid it is you who do not understand us, Mister Regan. We wouldn’t hear of you resigning. You are far too valuable a member of the team.” Sandra could see the members of the gallery sit up, their faces etched with confusion.

  “But I thought…” Regan began but was interrupted yet again by the low rumble of the priest’s deep voice.

  “Yes, I’m sure you did. But I’m certain you would prefer to help repair the situation you inadvertently…” he paused as he said the last word before continuing “…caused rather than throw fuel on the fire as it were.”

  “Of course,” Regan spread his hands but the smile on his face was more pained and he no longer looked as pleased as he had. Sandra saw him glance at Lohan but the woman didn’t have an answer for him so he shrugged and returned his attention to the priest. Sandra was certain that it had been Regan’s plan all along to be thrown from the committee for his revelation of their dark secret, and the resulting backlash would see him voted into power in the coming election. But, they could hardly ignore the situation either and leave it unanswered. She shook herself from her thoughts as Regan continued.

  “Anything I can do to help,” he smiled and Sandra saw Lohan suddenly grip Regan’s arm in warning, her face dropping as she suddenly realized that he was being manipulated. But it was too late and Father Reilly leaned forward and grinned, though he seemed far more like a predator than a pastor as he eyed Regan.

  “That’s wonderful,” Reilly smiled. “Then you won’t mind delivering the committee’s response to the rest of the community, explaining what your intentions were and how you had misunderstood the situation. In the interest of the greater public good, of course,” he added with a flourish and winked at the members of the gallery.

  The laughter of the members of the gallery was like a release valve and the members of the committee relaxed as the laughter returned but Sandra kept her eyes on Regan and his two scheming playmakers. She could see by the look of pure vitriol that Lohan shot toward her that this play was far from over. She shuddered as she wondered if they might have been better off letting Regan leave the committee. Reilly may have won this battle for them but a cornered rat is far more dangerous than a greedy one. Suddenly she wished fervently that Harris had not gone on his latest mission. She had a terrible feeling that they would need his expertise very soon.

  Chapter 7

  April Cassavetes wandered the halls of the supply base in silence. All around her people hurried about on unknown quests or stood and chatted with others, while still others guided machinery to move boxes from one place to another or unloaded crates from vehicles. The noise of the busy station swept over her, organized chaos as Lucy Irvine liked to call it, but the bustle was lost on her as she traveled on in her silent world.

  She caught snatches of conversation from those she passed as she watched their lips. She had gotten really good at that lately but did not let on, and she did not want people to be any more guarded around her than they already were. She understood that people felt awkward around anyone that was different, but she was deaf, for Christ’s sake, not a mutant.

  She had been born deaf so she had no idea that she was missing anything. Because she could not hear she had developed her other abilities and saw much more than anyone else she knew. Other people could see but they very rarely really looked closely at anything. Because she had to, April looked at everything in detail. She had to study machinery before she passed it because she could not hear its engine; she had to be aware of her environment and where everything was in that area because she would not hear a shouted warning. She had done this since she was very small, and because of this she automatically noticed everything around her. She was able to remember what people wore, to know whether exhaust fumes were coming from a tail pipe, and whether people meant what they said by looking into their eyes and interpreting their body language.

  People felt sorry for her, she could see it in their eyes and she could read it on their lips when she entered a room and people whispered to each other. She was used to being treated differently and she had had more than her share of people who had tried to take advantage of her, mistaking her silence for stupidity or shyness. Her third grade teacher had learned the hard way that she was not an easy mark when she had left him doubled in pain, clutching himself, before she had called the authorities.

  Even her parents had treated her differently, as if her deafness had been their fault. They always seemed to be trying to make up to her. She loved them dearly but their constant attention had always been wearing. And now that she was alone again, everyone seemed to think that she needed to be treated as special when all she wanted was to be accepted and to be treated normally. In fact, the only person in all her life who had ever treated her the way she wanted was Steele.

  He treated her as an equal, the only allowance he made to her condition being that he always made sure he was looking at her when he spoke. He had found her wandering the halls a few weeks ago and had listened to her story and how she was looking for her parents. She had been surprised that the man could understand sign language—but then there were many things that surprised her about Steele. He had been kind but firm and had told her that they were most probably dead but that he would help her look if she wanted the company.

  She had known deep down that her parents were gone but his offer had been a shock and she had numbly accepted it. They had grown close over the following weeks as they spent their free time together. She had gotten a job with Lucy Irvine keeping the supply books up to date so she had a lot of free time lately with the supplies being so low. She might be only fourteen but she had seen the knowing glances that people cast at Steele on their walks, and she had blushed many times at their whispers, which were like shouted accusations as she watched the poison spill from their lips.

  She had heard that Steele had worked for the vampires before he had joined the community and the whispered accusations of the things that he was supposed to have done hurt her deeply. She knew that he was a very dangerous man, she might be young but she wasn’t stupid. But his heart was purer than most she had known. She could tell that he too was searching for something, something that he had lost some time ago, so she chose to ignore the hateful lies and accept the man for what he was. She preferred to judge people by their actions and, as far as she could see, Steele was far nicer and more sincere than most of the population. She never told Steele what they said about him but she noticed that he stiffened slightly as he walked past these groups so he probably had a fair idea.

  For the first few days Steele had helped her come to terms with her new status as an orphan but as she grew more resigned to this she began to see that Steele was probably just as damaged as she was. There was a gaping hole in the man. He hid it very well but she was used to looking closely at people and studying their features and body language, and she could see that he had far more issues than were obvious at first glance. He wore a haunted look in his eyes but she had seen those same eyes sparkle with genuine affection when he was with her. Not in a sexual way
, she was old enough to know the difference, but like an older brother. As much as he helped her, she knew that she also helped him find something in himself to make him get up every day and continue the struggle. And that was enough for now.

  She had missed him over the last few days. She worried about him. She had met most of the team who were going with him and pitied anyone that tangled with them. All except that brute Sherman; there was something about the way he looked at her that made her squirm. She had seen that look before and knew what lay hidden behind the man’s genial smile. She would have to be careful around him.

  She came to the door of the stores and was about to announce her arrival by knocking on the open door, her vocal cords worked fine but she knew that people only saw her with pity when she tried to form words. It was difficult to pronounce words she had never heard spoken so she generally kept quiet. As she raised her hand to knock she suddenly saw two figures in the corner. There was something about their movements that sent an alarm through her and she moved quickly to the side of the doorway to minimize the chance of her being seen.

  The first man had his back to her and blocked the other’s face, but he kept glancing around as he spoke and she was able to catch the movement of his lips each time his face moved to the side. She didn’t recognize the man speaking and couldn’t see the other man at all, though by his bulk she was fairly certain it was a man. She caught snatches of the conversation but not enough to get a good understanding of what was being said. Somehow, by their furtive nature, she doubted if what they were doing was for the greater good.