by David Bishop
"Then you know they are..."
"Vampyr?"
The Germans took a step backwards when I said the word, as if amazed I dared to utter it out loud. It seemed they were as afraid of these fiends as we were. Eisenstein could contain his curiosity no longer. He moved closer to me, his hands still held in the air.
"Bojemoi, Zunetov, what are you telling them?"
"Nothing they don't already know."
I introduced myself by name to the German patrol leader. When he asked where our officer was, I explained we were a penal company whose commander did not accompany us on missions. He seemed satisfied with my explanation, so I asked for his name.
"Haustein, I am Reiner Haustein," he replied. After making sure two of his men had us covered with their weapons, Haustein took the others a few metres away. While they talked amongst themselves, I told Eisenstein and the rest of our squad what had been said. After a few moments, Haustein returned and told us to lower our hands.
"We wish to surrender," he added.
Five minutes earlier we had been captives of these Germans, waiting to be executed. Now they were trying to give themselves up to us. Eisenstein's mouth fell open in surprise but he quickly recovered his poise, one hand thoughtfully rubbing his grey stubble.
"Ask for the terms of their surrender, Zunetov."
I swiftly translated the question to Haustein and his men.
"Take us with you back across no-man's-land," the patrol leader replied. "We will fight for the Red Army in your penal company, or become prisoners of war, whatever you wish. But anything is better than the fate our masters in Berlin have planned for us, to become slaves of the vampyr."
I relayed his terms to Eisenstein, who glanced at the others for their reactions. Unsurprisingly, none of them had any objection to adding the Germans' strength to our own.
"Very well," Eisenstein announced, pausing so I could translate his reply phrase by phrase. "We accept your surrender. You may keep your weapons, but we must confiscate your ammunition as a precautionary measure." He checked the position of the moon in the sky, assessing how much longer we had left before sunrise. "We need to get moving. It will be light soon and we must reach our front line before that happens. Agreed?"
Haustein pulled the ammunition clip from his machine pistol and handed it to Eisenstein, the other Germans following their leader's example.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Eisenstein said with a smile.
With our numbers swollen from seven to seventeen, we made slower time back to the railway crossing. When we finally reached it, Eisenstein called a halt so he could consult with Haustein.
"This many people crawling back along the railway line for two hundred metres will take too long. I'm open to suggestions."
"Why would you crawl?" Haustein asked through me.
"We were told there were mines beneath the tracks."
The German shook his head. "We mined either side of the railway, but not beneath the tracks. Our officers planned to use the railway as a supply route once Leningrad fell. Having to remove our own mines would have taken too long."
"Then we can all walk along the tracks?" Eisenstein asked.
"Ja," Haustein said, "but so many men will be noticed by our lookouts."
"We could pretend to be your captives," I chipped in. "Your men could march us towards the front line. If any lookout challenges us, you can say you've been ordered to release us into no-man's-land as target practise for the snipers."
Haustein nodded. "That might work."
Eisenstein was less impressed. "But once we get to no-man's-land, then the lookouts will feel free to shoot at us."
"They'll probably be doing that anyway," I pointed out.
"True," he agreed with a grimace. "Alright, let's try it."
We marched along the railway line towards no-man's-land, Haustein and his men acting as our captors. The seventeen-strong contingent reached the barricade in a few minutes, then carefully picked its way through the severed curls of barbed wire. Once past that point, no-man's-land was close and safety not far beyond it. I started to think that we had made it back unchallenged, until a booming voice called to us from a vantage point overlooking the tracks.
"Halt! Wer geht dort?"
Haustein growled at us to stop where we were, then turned to face the lookout. "Gefreiter Haustein! My patrol is escorting these prisoners into no-man's-land, so our snipers can use them for target practice."
"Then why are your prisoners still carrying their weapons?"
"We confiscated their ammunition," Haustein shouted back. Beside me Eisenstein was getting edgy, while Borodin's fear was making his legs tremble.
"If you confiscated their ammunition, why do your weapons have no clips in them?" As I listened to the lookout's voice, I realised his accent was all too familiar. He was not German... He was a Rumanian.
"Bojemoi, he's a vampyr," I said to Eisenstein.
"Not for much longer," he replied. "Uralsky?"
Our marksman dropped to one knee and fired, all in one smooth movement. The bullet caught the vampyr full in the face and the creature went down, shrieking in pain. As it fell, an ear-splitting cry pierced the air around us and a dozen figures emerged from the shadows, six on either side of the tracks.
"It's a trap," Eisenstein realised, his face hardening into a snarl. He turned on Haustein, ready to blow the German's head off. "You led us into a trap!"
The gefreiter was waving his hands for mercy, protesting his innocence. I stepped between them, stopping Eisenstein from executing Haustein.
"He's saying he is innocent!" I shouted.
"I don't care! Get out of my way, Zunetov!"
"Your comrade is quite correct," a deep, resonant voice interjected from behind us in perfect Russian. I spun round to see a single figure on the German side of the barricade, walking towards us along the tracks. He wore a peaked cap and a long, dark cloak with an upturned collar. Beneath the shadow cast by his hat I could see wolfish, hungry eyes and a black moustache. It was the same imposing figure we had seen accosting the obergefreiter and his men in Ivanovskoe less than an hour before, the same imposing figure that had attacked me on the frozen ice of Lake Ladoga so long ago. It was Hauptmann Constanta, leader of the Rumanian vampyr.
"None of these Germans knew we were preparing this little surprise for you and your men, Eisenstein. We let you and your Smert Krofpeet squad come this far, but now you may go no further." Constanta stopped on the far side of the barricade, his cruel face splitting into a smile. "This is the end of the line, if you'll pardon the pun."
Eisenstein swore under his breath before turning towards the rest of us. "You fools! I told you we should have attacked Constanta back in Ivanovskoe when we had the chance. Now we're all going to die because of your cowardice..." But Eisenstein's tirade was a ruse to hide what he was doing with his hands. They pulled confiscated clips from inside his waist belt and passed them to Haustein. The rest of us saw this and returned the German patrol's ammunition to them while Eisenstein continued ranting and raving as cover for our actions.
"It does not matter whether seven or seventeen of you are armed," Constanta observed, not fooled by Eisenstein's pretence. "By all means, feel free to give these cowardly Germans back their bullets. You shall all die in the next few minutes. I suggest you say prayers to whatever deities you believe in, though I doubt they will be heard." He threw back his head and gave a cry that chilled our blood and loosened the bowels. At his signal, the vampyr surrounding us launched their attack, and all hell broke loose.
Eisenstein started firing first, but Haustein was next to pull the trigger. Within moments all of us were shooting at the advancing vampyr, unleashing a fusillade of bullets in a semicircle. I concentrated my fire at Constanta himself, hoping I might be able to stop his inhuman attack cry. I emptied half a drum of bullets into his head, neck and chest. The impact knocked him over, but he was on his feet again as soon as I stopped shooting. Around me the rest of our squad a
nd the German patrol were finding their bullets just as ineffective. We were keeping the vampyr back temporarily, but once our ammunition ran out, they would close in and tear us apart.
"Bojemoi, what does it take to make these fiends stay down?" I shouted, struggling to be heard above the cacophony of gunfire.
"More than we've got here," Eisenstein bellowed back at me. "Tell the Germans to run. We have to get moving towards no-man's-land!"
I shouted his orders to Haustein and the others, timing my words so they came between the staccato bursts of gunfire. The stench of cordite was thick in the air, choking my throat with its acrid odour. We started slowly retreating towards the open ground of no-man's-land, but our enemy quickly responded.
I watched as two of the vampyr dissolved into translucent mist. This white cloud drifted across to the railway tracks, blocking our escape route. Two of the Germans ran into the mist and it thickened around them, the vampyr coalescing back into human form beside the soldiers. When the two terrified men screamed for help, Haustein killed them with a burst from his machine pistol.
"I would rather do that than see them turned," he snarled to me.
Another pair of vampyr strode towards the railway lines, but one of them trod on a mine buried beneath the soil. The shrapnel from its detonation accounted for three Germans near that side of the tracks. As the two vampyr were propelled up into the air by the explosion, both creatures turned to mist before reforming themselves as bats. Within an instant they were swooping back down at us, forcing everyone to duck beneath their snapping mouths. Around me many of the Germans were making the sign of the cross, praying for mercy as they hastily reloaded their weapons. I envied their religion, having been raised a strict atheist and trained only to believe in the revolution.
Constanta gave a new cry and three of the vampyr dropped to the ground, crouching on all fours. I watched, struggling to believe the evidence of my own eyes as they transformed into wolves, becoming like the beasts that had attacked the convoy on the frozen lake. Eisenstein emptied his last clip of ammunition and threw the submachine gun aside in disgust.
"Smert krofpeet, let's show these unholy bastards we can hurt them!" He reached into his knapsack and drew out his trusty sickle with its silver-edged blade.
The rest of us followed his example, each producing a weapon we had brought as a contingency against a vampyr attack. Antonov threw his knapsack to the ground and pulled out a heavy blacksmith's hammer, along with a bundle of wooden stakes. Uralsky broke down his sniper's rifle into its component parts, reassembling the stock and other elements from it to create a small wooden crossbow.
Borodin crouched beside him to help, drawing two handfuls of bolts and a crucifix from inside his knapsack. Strelnikov slipped his necklace of severed tongues round his neck, a bulb of garlic positioned between each grisly trophy, while keeping a wooden stake close at hand. Sophia undid the lid of her drinking flask, ready to throw holy water over any vampyr that came near her. I unfolded my entrenching tool, its edge honed so sharp it could cut through anything softer than metal.
"Uralsky, Antonov: clear us a path!" Eisenstein commanded. "We'll cover your backs and keep the rest of these fiends away. Move!"
Antonov marched towards the two vampyr still draining blood from the men Haustein had executed. The largest member of the Smert Krofpeet kicked the nearest vampyr in the head, knocking the creature onto its back. Uralsky dealt with the other bloodsucker, a single bolt from his crossbow puncturing the fiend's chest. The vampyr exploded in a cloud of ash and dust. By the time that had settled to the ground, Uralsky had already shot one of the bats from the sky with his peerless aim.
Meanwhile, Antonov pinned his target to the railway tracks by slamming his boot down on its neck. He crouched beside the protesting monster to position a wooden stake above its heart, the hammer poised in his other hand. "See you in hell, djavoli!" The hammer struck home and the vampyr exploded.
I heard Sophia cry a warning and twisted round to see three of the wolves leaping through the air towards us. Strelnikov dropped into a crouch while thrusting his wooden stake upwards, stabbing it deep into the chest of one animal. The second wolf landed on top of a German soldier, who beat at it with the butt of his rifle, bashing the snapping snout away from himself. The wolf let itself be knocked aside, attacking the German to its left instead, closing its fearsome jaws round his throat with a sickening crunch.
The third animal was diving directly at Sophia. I shoved her to safety while swinging my entrenching tool through the air in a broad arc. My aim was more lucky than skilful, but it had the desired effect, slicing the wolf's head clean off. The creature dissolved into dust and ash, just like the one Strelnikov had slain.
Haustein and three of his men followed our example. They tore the wolf away from their dead comrade and pinned it to the ground before decapitating the beast with their bayonets. It exploded into powder, leaving no other trace of ever existing.
"The path is clear!" Antonov shouted to us, a smile of grim satisfaction on his face. He didn't notice the bat swooping towards him until the creature was clamping its jaws around his neck. Haustein brought his machine pistol up to fire at Antonov but the weapon was knocked aside, firing uselessly into the air.
"No!" Eisenstein shouted to the German, having intervened to save his friend. "Yuri is one of mine. You leave him to me!"
"Then do it soon," Haustein snarled, "before he becomes one of them."
Uralsky heard Antonov's cry of anguish and shot the bat off the big man's shoulders. Two trickles of blood were visible on the side of Antonov's neck. He stamped his boot down hard on the creature that had wounded him, using one of his stakes to finish the job Uralsky had started.
Six down, but we still had six vampyr to face, not to mention Constanta himself. More than half the Germans were dead and Antonov was stricken. He waved for the rest of us to go past him into no-man's-land. It was no safer than where we were, but it would take us closer to our own lines. Uralsky led the charge, followed by Haustein and the other three surviving Germans. Borodin helped Antonov up while I ran along after Sophia and Strelnikov. Eisenstein was last to follow, hanging back to ward off the pursuing vampyr with his sickle.
I glanced over my shoulder to call for him to hurry and tripped over the bodies of two Germans. I went sprawling across the railway lines, the impact knocking the air from my lungs and the entrenching tool from my grasp. I tried to call to the others for help but no words came from my mouth.
"This is no time to be taking it easy," a voice growled behind me.
I looked round to see Eisenstein stretching out a hand to help me up. I also saw something dropping from the sky towards him. At first I thought it was another bat, the wings billowing in the breeze. Then I realised the shape was that of a man, and the wings were the fabric of his black cloak. Eisenstein was utterly unaware of the approaching danger. I tried to shout a warning but nothing came out, my lungs still fighting for air.
The horrified look in my eyes must have alerted Eisenstein. He swung round as Constanta landed on the tracks, his sickle slicing through the air. It stabbed deep into the chest of the vampyr leader, but missed his heart, if the hauptmann had ever possessed one. Constanta laughed and pulled the blade out of his body. Then he drew back his lips, triumphantly revealing his teeth. The Rumanian sank his fangs deep into the side of Eisenstein's throat, sucking greedily on the crimson liquid beneath the skin. Eisenstein wrenched the sickle from Constanta's grasp and hacked repeatedly at the head of the vampyr. The blade severed Constanta's left ear and a portion of his scalp and skull, exposing the rotting, putrid brain within. The hauptmann screamed in agony and rage, loosening his grip and staggering backwards.
Constanta pointed at Eisenstein, his bloody hands quivering in the air. "Even if you slay me, I shall be resurrected by my master. His power is like that of the gods themselves! I can grow from the smallest speck, even from ashes. I can never be truly killed, you fool!"
"We'll s
ee about that," Eisenstein snarled, slicing his sickle through the fiend's right leg and cutting it off above the knee. Constanta toppled sideways, crying out in anger as much as in pain. Before Eisenstein could finish the job, the other vampyr moved to protect their master, standing between us and Constanta.
Eisenstein pulled the Star of David necklace from inside his gymnastiorka and brandished it at the creatures. They cowered back before this potent symbol of faith, the emblem glinting eerily in the early morning light. The first hints of sunrise were colouring the sky overhead, turning it from black to blue.
Eisenstein pointed towards the horizon. "You haven't got long if you want to get away from here," he said. "Keep chasing us and you won't be undead for much longer. But let us go and we both live to fight again. It's your choice."
The vampyr clustered around Constanta, carrying him away towards the barbed wire barricade. Once they were in retreat, Eisenstein crumpled to the ground, his spare hand clamped over the wound on his neck. I crawled to his side, anxious to see how deep the vampyr leader's fangs had sunk, but Eisenstein would not let me examine him. He pulled the collar of his gymnastiorka up to hide the wound, then tucked his Star of David back inside.
"Don't tell the others what happened," he said between gasps for breath. "Swear to me on whatever you hold holy that you won't tell them."
"But I must-"
Eisenstein grabbed my shoulders, desperation in his eyes. "Swear it!"
I nodded, reluctantly. "I swear."
"Good, that's good." He got back on his feet with my help, staggering slightly for a moment before pulling himself together. "Come on, we've got to catch up with the others. We fought off the vampyr, but we've still got to find a way across no-man's-land before sunrise. Once the sun is up, we'll be easy targets for the German snipers."
"Not to mention Yatsko," I recalled.
"Bojemoi, I'd forgotten about him," Eisenstein admitted. "Come on!"