Chapter 55
Transylvania
Maria’s eyes ripped open as the revelation concluded with its final image. She sat bolt upright on her bed. The stress of the birth and the constant charade had taken its toll on her strength, but now she had just received a vision that would change all that.
"It’s coming," she breathed, "it’s coming and it’s bringing him with it.”
Now she knew she could not fail. The Book was coming back.
* * *
The Dracyl surveyed his troops from the roof of one of the barrack blocks. They were now numbered in their hundreds, up to nearly a thousand, but it still wasn’t enough. He reviewed their ranks in the half-light, consoling himself with the knowledge that this was just the beginning. Their time would soon come, he knew.
Russian, German, Ukrainian, Jew, all wearing their original uniforms, or rags in the case of the Jews. Himmler had stopped the delivery of SS uniforms after the first two hundred and now his warriors looked more like a gang of partisans than a regiment of soldiers. The first troops were also issued swords but that had also stopped. Now they had to rely on their talons and teeth, which was enough when the quarry was only man.
To the Count, though, the uniforms were irrelevant. All that mattered was that they belonged to the Dracyl. They spoke in the Dracyl tongue and were subject to the myths, laws and traditions of the race of the haemovore.
"Tonight, my children," for they were his brood, "we hunt to quench our thirst but we also hunt to swell our numbers.”
The vampires bristled in their bloodlust to be away. They longed for the hunt and he felt it.
"Yes, you want the chase and you need to feed, but hear me now, my children of the night, you must do more than feed. Our numbers are too small. We need fresh blood to harvest our quarry." He lifted his arms and the mob was silenced. "Bring me warriors, bring me souls so that we can extend our dominance over man to the entire world.”
As one the vampire horde howled and hissed their accord and took off into the night. Only the Dracyl remained with his generals.
They were five: Arak, the most senior, stood to the side; the other four lined up in front of him. Although the Dracyl had picked them as his generals, they were still dressed in the clothing they wore when they were turned. A German Jew, a Ukrainian and two Russians, all had survived the camps and were chosen for their size. They listened intently to what the Dracyl said to them, massive, dog-loyal and eager to get away to feed.
He looked them over and realised that picking his generals for their bulk over their intelligence had not been such a good idea, but at least he had Arak to keep them in line.
"Make no mistake, we need numbers. The time is nigh and we must take what we can. Every Russian soldier can be drained to an inch of his life but I want his soul. Don’t let your men’s greed get the better of them. Numbers are everything now.”
They grunted their understanding in unison.
He nodded and they flew off, leaving the Dracyl alone with his plans.
Chapter 56
Three weeks later
The journey south, though arduous, was blessed with good fortune throughout. Their train was strafed twice but they suffered no casualties and it took them all the way to the Hungarian border. They crossed easily into Hungary despite the Feldjäger roadblocks and the deluge of refugees that clogged the roads, their SS uniforms and another forged letter from Himmler clearing the way before them. Even breaching the Red Army lines had been accomplished without seeing a Russian, and all wondered how long their luck would hold.
They stuck to the tactics that had served them so well during their time in the quarry, riding only by night and then full pelt, relying on the dark and their speed to cloak their identity. It was problematical now, due to the extra packhorses, but their fortuity held out.
They by-passed Budapest to the north of the city and marched directly east. The Romanian border marked the end of their rations and they were driven to stealing from the local populace, a fact that didn’t sit well with Von Struck.
"Boss, if we turned back and forgot about the whole thing, do you think we’d be doing the locals any favours?" Rohleder pointed out.
"Let’s keep it to a minimum. We only take what we need.”
"The Boss is right, we don’t want to starve the Commissars when they come to confiscate the food for the glorious Red Army, do we now?” Henning piped up.
The Romanians had changed sides under King Michael 1st in August and yet, despite this, the first Romanian farmer they happened upon seemed overjoyed at the sight of German soldiers.
"Are you coming back to kill these damn Communists?" he laughed harshly. "They took everything, including my sons, for their bloody war.”
"No old man, we’re not coming back," Von Struck smiled.
"Now that is a damn shame,” he responded in heavily accented but fluent German. His shoulders sagged in resignation but he perked up again when Rohleder asked if he had any food for them.
"Yes, yes, come in, come in. I hid some from the Ruskies when they came looking for rations.”
They settled in his barn for the night, and as they ate their fill of salted pork, the farmer told them of the situation. "Four weeks ago Russian soldiers, our new allies, came and confiscated everything they could find to help feed their troops. They took everything that was edible and left us with nothing. For all they cared, we could starve to death. I’m German and that damn King Michael has made some deal that anything owned by a German must go to the Russians as a part of the reparations to Russia.”
"So why are we eating so well, old man?” Nau asked between mouthfuls of meat.
"Because I’m clever, my boy, that’s why. The week before that, they visited my friend in the next valley and cleared him out. He came to me and told me what had happened. He had nothing left, nothing,” he paused and looked around for effect, "so we did a deal. I brought everything to his farm for him to look after until the Russians were gone. They came to my house, took what they saw and left. I gave my friend half of what I had and I kept the rest. Do you see what I did there? Clever, eh?”
They nodded in agreement.
"And your sons?" Inselman asked delicately. Nodding sadly he answered, "Yes, they were taken too, not by the Russians though. They were here right up until last week and the authorities came and said that since I didn’t have a farm, now that the Russians had cleared me out, I didn’t need my sons, so they must now fight for Romania.”
"Are there many German farmers still here?" Von Struck asked, a ghost of a plan stalking the back of his mind.
"Not many, no. The majority of them left before the Russians came. But there are a few and I know them all.”
"Do you think they would help us get to Klausenburg?”
"Of course they would!” He was shocked at the idea that they wouldn’t help.
"Even with an Englishman in tow?” Smith put in. The farmer nodded stiffly.
Michael needed to confirm this. "Are you sure of this? We’re on a mission that was ordered by Himmler himself. It’s very important.”
"Don’t talk to me about that idiot. I’ll help you because you’re German and that’s all. If you don’t like it then you don’t have to accept my help, but I won’t do anything for that stupid arse, Heini.”
Rohleder snickered from the back of the barn, "You know what, I think I like this man.”
Von Struck pressed the issue. "Think about what we’re asking you to do, old man. This could endanger your whole family and friends. Everybody that comes into contact with us could end up in Siberia if the Russians find out.”
The farmer paused for a moment to gather his thoughts and to weigh his doubts. "I’ll show you the way. We’ll go at night and we’ll stay in the buildings left by the German families who left before the Russians came. They’re all burnt out so there shouldn’t be any problem with unwanted visitors.”
Michael nodded. "Sounds like a good plan to me so far. What about food?�
�
The farmer shrugged and held his arms out wide, "Take what you need. There won’t be anything left when I get back anyway, so at least this way I’ll be making sure the damn Communists don’t get hold of it."
Henning walked up to the farmer, holding out his hand, "You’re a brave man, Farmer. What’s your name?”
He smiled, "I’m not brave, it’s just that I’ve finally realised that there’s nothing left here for me. I’ll come with you and try to find my sons. They should come with me to Germany when this is all over. My name is Daniel, Daniel Rensing.”
Michael held his hand out too. "Herr Rensing, when you’re in Germany, please look me up and, if I can help you in any way, I will.”
He nodded and they set about emptying sacks to put their food in.
Two days later the Vampires attacked them in the woods. Schneiderat and the farmer Rensing rode at the front of the squad to clear the way. Their eyes were fixed on the way ahead, looking for Russians, when suddenly two indistinct shadows swooped down on them from the trees. Like silent meteors, they landed heavily on the two and only the sickening thud of the collision gave any clue as to what had happened.
Although the moon was only a quarter full, their eyes, sensitised by the dark off the forest, picked out the attack before them. Combat instinct took over as they pulled their rifles to fight off the assault. Von Struck pushed the satchel with the Book of Blood around to his back and started to scan the night. In the clear winter sky above them he made out the vampire’s silhouettes through the branches as they dived for the attack. He subconsciously estimated their numbers and reckoned it was an advance reconnaissance party numbering about twenty.
With no time to dismount and pick targets, they fired intuitively into the falling shadows, keeping one eye closed against the muzzle flashes to retain their night vision.
Rohleder hit his first target despite his horse’s panicked movement and quickly moved onto the second. In controlled bursts of two to three rounds, he hit one after the other, fully concentrating on killing everything that presented itself.
This, their first combat encounter with the vampires, was the acid test of the silver bullets. Each hit physically jarred the creature and, in the blink of an eye, the beast would burn from the inside out, crumbling to a fine ash that fell around them.
A vampire dropped down on Von Struck from behind and wrestled to bite him. He felt the creature’s festering, hot breath against the back of his neck as it pulled his head in position and he gagged in spite of his rising panic. Rohleder, riding next to him, smoothly put his rifle to the beast’s head and pulled the trigger but the gun misfired.
"Fuck! Bad girl. Helga never did that to me." Without missing a beat, he rammed the muzzle into the creature’s eye socket with all his strength. The barrel bored into its eyeball, popping it with a loud squish, and the beast screamed loud enough to puncture Von Struck’s ear drum. With a wrench it let go and flew off into the cold, starlit heavens.
As swiftly as it had come, the attack stopped and the battle-dazed troop looked around them to get their bearings.
Von Struck, who had said nothing throughout the skirmish, made a quick headcount. "Gruhn, Inselman, in fact all of you, keep an eye out in case a second wave comes at us. Rohleder, thanks. Henning, how’s Andreas looking?”
Wolfgang stood over the prone body of Schneiderat, shaking his head. "He’s not dead," a silent pulse of relief rushed through them all, only to be dashed by Henning’s next words, "but he’s been bitten.”
Nobody said a word. Von Struck moved to stand next to Wolfgang.
"You know what that means, Boss,” Wolfgang whispered. Von Struck nodded. The farmer was also bitten and the pair lay side-by-side, groaning softly as their bodies prepared for the change.
Michael broke their reverie. "Let’s go. It’s not far now.”
"Andreas has been bitten, that means we’re a man down,” Von Struck quietly informed him.
"What would you rather do then, turn back and come with reinforcements after the war?” Michael challenged.
"I thought we needed ten men to be successful in this mission.”
"And now Andreas is out of the picture, we’re down to nine,” Henning reminded him.
Michael looked from one to the other, then, "Look. Let’s get out of here. They may come back. I’ll tell you later how I think we should proceed.”
They wordlessly nodded and the squad remounted to ride off.
Von Struck waited until they were gone before putting two bullets in Schneiderat and Rensing. He strapped the rifle and sword to his horse and mounted up. He suddenly had a thought and felt for the satchel on his back and, groaning, he rode after them.
At dawn Michael put his thoughts to the men. "I know Czerolka said we need ten men for this, but he hadn’t gambled on the silver bullets. We all saw how well they worked last night, and I for one feel a lot more confident with this extra fire-power that we have.”
They nodded among themselves as he spoke. They had been more than pleasantly surprised with the effects the silver had had on the vampires and the feeling of convinced excitement had spurred them on through the night.
Michael knew this and had earlier decided to strike while the iron was hot. "I say we ride there - it’s not far now - take our positions under the tree and let them come to us for their Book. When they attack, we’ll take them out in waves. It’ll be a turkey shoot with the vampires wearing the feathers."
Nobody said anything aloud but Michael knew they were for the idea. Von Struck spoke up. "There is only one problem. The vampires have the Book.”
All eyes turned to him, so he continued, "A vampire attacked me from behind last night. I thought he wanted to bite me but he must have been after the Book.”
"It’s gone?" Michael asked incredulously.
"There wasn’t a lot I could do about it.”
Again, nobody spoke for there was nothing to say.
Michael broke the reverie, "The Book was important but there is still a chance that we will meet them for battle at the tree.”
"How? As I see it we’ve lost our bait,” Rohleder said, rubbing his eyes. They were all tired and, as the thrill of the combat was wearing off, it was beginning to show. The moment was broken and Michael knew it would be an uphill struggle to convince them again.
"Didn’t Czerolka explain to you all about the Winter Solstice?" He didn’t wait for the answer, "Tomorrow is the 22nd of December, the first day of winter. This is known as the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year and the date that the Sun God would be at his weakest.”
"I’m lost again, I thought we’d moved on from the Sun God thing to the Bible thing," remarked Rohleder, puzzled.
Michael knew they were all tired and losing interest but he had to convince them to go on. "We have, but Lilith and the Dracyl are still slaves to their original beliefs, the belief that Utu, the Sun God has cursed them. Now that they’ve got the ten names in the Book of Blood they’ll want to end the curse.”
Von Struck nodded in comprehension but stayed silent. It was up to Michael to animate the men.
"I’m sorry, General," Nau put in, "but why will they come to the tree? I forgot the hocus pocus stuff when I was trying to learn how to fight with a sword.”
"Which we now find out we didn’t need to learn because we can shoot them with our guns,” Gruhn sarcastically added.
"Yes, you’re right, we didn’t need to learn how to fight with swords. But imagine this, imagine that we came here and found that the silver bullets didn’t work? The fact is that we didn’t know then that they would work." He looked at their upturned faces, "And they will come to the tree because we have one of the names in the Book of Blood among us, the Englishman." All eyes turned to Smith.
"We are down to nine men but so are they and our trump is that one of our nine is in their list."
"But what if he goes over to their side to make up their ten?” Gruhn butted in.
Smith, who had made
no real contribution, stepped forward. "No, I’m in our list and that’s how it stands.”
Michael nodded. "Like I said, one of our names is in their list and he’s on our side. With the silver bullets, the tree and the belief in our hearts, we can do this, we can beat these fucking bloodsuckers.”
A spark of interest lit their eyes and Michael pressed on. "We arrive there before dusk … ”
"In the day?” Nau exclaimed.
"There are no Russians here now. The vampires will have taken them. We ride there and set up position in an all round defence. We don’t need cover because they have no weapons that shoot, so we can simply choose our arcs and take them as they come. We need to hold out until dawn. After that, I think their chance of breaking the curse is shot.”
"How far away is it?" Henning asked.
"Thirty kilometres maximum.”
The silence hung in the air like dust particles caught in the sun. The decision to follow seemed as hard as asking for a first date and nobody was willing to make that move. Von Struck read the situation and decided for them. "Right, we’ll sort the horses out, get our heads down and move out at 1400 hours. Rohleder, sort out a stag list and I don’t want the graveyard shift again. Is there any of that salted pork left, I’m starving.”
Chapter 57
The Dracyl smiled to himself as he watched Maria dancing around the library. She held the Book aloft, laughing with unbridled joy, twirling around and around.
"Are you happy now, Demon? Will we beat the curse now that you have your Book?”
"Oh yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Tomorrow the world will be ours for the taking and no amount of mortal interfering will stop us.”
The Division of the Damned Page 30