The Blood of the Infected (Book 2): Once Bitten, Twice Live

by Stanton, Antony J.

  Handley shook his head again. “I am not totally sure to be quite honest. It would be really nice if we came away today with information giving the chemical make-up of the drug, something on how it reacted with the patients, what the desired effects were from a physiological perspective, that kind of thing. The best I can say is that if we all look through the papers in these filing cabinets and let me know if you see anything that may vaguely be of interest, anything that sounds like what I have just highlighted. Even better would be one of the laptops that the scientists used with all their results. Now that would be absolutely gold-dust.”

  Wood turned to his soldiers. “Okay Straddling, seeing as you are so very much behind all of this, how about you keep guard. Us three will help the doc here.”

  From somewhere nearby they heard a door slam accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. It was hard to say if it was on the same floor that they were on or how close it was. They exchanged tense glances but started their search. Handley had already begun rooting through cupboards and drawers feverishly. Every once in a while he glanced at the door.

  Millington was in the far corner of the room where some blankets and a cushion were piled on the floor. He poked at it with a suspicious toe. “Boss.”

  Wood joined him.

  “It looks like another survivor was here, for a while at least.”

  Wood nodded, in silent contemplation. The proximity to potential people in need of help and rescue was a motivating feeling for them all. There were also some discarded wrappers of sandwiches and crisps lying near the blankets, and the sink in the corner of the room had a small pool of stagnant water at the bottom.

  For ten minutes they hardly spoke as they searched. There was the occasional exclamation from one of the soldiers that momentarily got Handley excited, until he realised that the information the soldier held was useless. It was Mayoh who found the first really valuable file.

  He was in the outer office by himself and called Handley out to him. “Doc, what about this?”

  There had already been several false alarms and Handley was losing hope until he saw what Mayoh was holding.

  “The file says ‘Mnemoloss: integrating hormonal and genetic influences in the brain. By some geezer named Boxall. Any good?” He looked doubtful but Handley snatched the file out of his hand and spent thirty seconds scanning through the pages whilst making small exclamations. Finally he looked at Mayoh.

  “Brilliant. I could kiss you,” he said excitedly.

  “Well save it till later, I’m not drunk enough yet.”

  “It looks fairly relevant and pretty close to what we’re interested in, although I’ll need to study it a lot more. Keep looking for anything that appears similar, or anything else written by the same person – Boxall.”

  Handley redirected his efforts and the two men found several more documents of interest, regarding the various different strands of neurological therapy that had been pulled together in the development of Mnemoloss. Finally with his bag half full of papers, the men stopped their efforts and Straddling peered out into the corridor.

  It was clear and they shuffled to the next doorway. These offices were all larger than before and many of the doors were closed so it meant that the corridor was dark. As they prepared to enter the next one, Straddling, who was at the rear, thought he saw shadows somewhere behind them. He whirled round and peered into the gloom. He waved his torch back and forth but there was no sign of anything. It made them all feel even more uneasy.

  Whilst still staring down the corridor, Wood reached for the handle to the next office. There was another plaque that read “Rhind – FRC Path DCP.” It was locked and there was no sound of any activity coming from within so Millington again launched himself at it, splintering the lock on his second attempt with a loud crash. He flew through the door and stumbled on the floor, right on top of a corpse.

  He let out a surprisingly high-pitched squeal and scrambled back to his feet as the other soldiers surged forwards to help. The body was of an adult male, probably in his early thirties with thick, dark black hair which had fallen out in clumps revealing a scabby, mottled scalp. His face was fixed in a gruesome screaming expression with his eyes bulging and his mouth open to reveal the gaps in his gums where teeth had fallen out. His tongue, which protruded out of the side of his mouth, had swollen and turned black. His skin also had taken on a dark hue and was purple and black in places. Millington tried to wipe his hands clean on his trousers as he retreated from the man in horror. The stench was horrific and made them all gag but it was not certain whether the odour came from the corpse that Millington had fallen over or the half eaten one in the corner of the room.

  It was an adult female. The stages of bodily decomposition seemed to be more advanced purely by the colour of the skin which was darker and had stretched and blistered. Large amounts of flesh from her face and legs had been eaten and the spectacle was as grotesque as the smell. All of them took a step back, covering their noses and turning away. The soldiers gingerly edged around the body by the door whilst trying to avoid inhaling any of the decaying fumes. Millington quickly opened a window and leaned out, gasping heavily.

  The room was similar to the previous office although there were more personal effects in this one. There was broken glass from picture frames all over the floor, a set of golf clubs had been scattered in the corner and a couple of plant pots had been smashed against a wall, leaving a dark, earthy stain down the otherwise clean, white paint. The door to the inner room was open already and the walls were lined with jars containing various compounds and mixtures. Wood recognised a few names on bottles from his schooldays but there was nothing to hold his interest. There was a machine that looked like the MRI scanner he had been put through several times at Headley Court and there was a medical couch in the corner that had brown, leather cushioning which had been ripped to shreds and spread all over the floor.

  At that moment the radio crackled and Lewis spoke. “Wood, Lewis here. How goes it?”

  “All good here. We’ve found a few odds and sods that may be of use, enough to give the doc a hard-on anyway. We’re only in the second office. Seems there might be stuff here that may be of value so we’re taking our time. I guess we’re gonna be a while yet. And you?”

  “We’re just about done on the bottom floor, haven’t found anything of interest so far. Time’s passing fast so we’ll crack on. The building has taken a right angle turn here and then it opens out even more, so we’re now heading to the north. Stay sharp and don’t take any chances, okay?”

  “Roger that.”

  The voice of Darby came on the radio again and there was a brief interchange between him and Lewis, but Wood was not all that interested in anything that fool had to say and paid it no attention. Finally the radio went dead again.

  Handley and Mayoh were already flicking quickly through the filing cabinets in the outer office although every couple of minutes they fled to the window for some fresh air and respite from the stench. Millington was in the inner room looking nervously at the dead bodies when Wood joined him.

  “I wonder whether the delightful perfume from those two dead’uns will attract any unwanted attention from others?” Millington asked looking apprehensively at the door.

  “Hmmm, Eau de Cadaver Number Five. I doubt it but just in case, Straddling, keep a good look out.”

  Straddling was at that moment crouched down and peering into the corridor. He stared in the direction from which they had come. There was no movement now but he felt extremely uneasy. His torch probed the corridor every few seconds.

  Eventually with his bag a lot fuller, Handley stood and stretched his aching legs. “Okay, I think we’re done here. We found some potentially useful information,” he said with a satisfied look on his face.

  “Good. Let’s move on,” Wood started to say, but Millington interrupted.

  “What was that?”

  “What was what?” Wood asked.

  “I didn’t hear
anything,” Straddling grumbled.

  “I heard it,” Handley said. “A scream, sounded like a child, from somewhere nearby.”

  “Yes, that’s it, exactly that. It was a child,” Millington agreed.

  Straddling was uninterested. “Well that’s as maybe, so there might be a survivor out there somewhere. Or maybe it was just another crazy, who knows. At the moment we’re having a hard enough time keeping ourselves alive.” He glanced into the corridor then stepped quietly back into the room and carefully closed the door behind him, gesturing at Wood.

  “What is it?” Wood hissed.

  “Two of them, maybe three. Down the end of the corridor. Coming this way, fast. I think we’re in trouble!”

  CHAPTER 8

  History has shown that even the best, most thoroughly considered strategies of military leaders can sometimes require last-minute alteration. Farzin’s plan to visit the military base that night had received an unexpected delay in a form that took even him very much by surprise but one that he more than adequately compensated for. Ever was he cunning and resourceful. What he lacked in strength, he more than compensated for with guile.

  The afternoon shadows were already starting to lengthen by the time he returned to the clan in the presbytery’s upper room. Sebastian was the only one not present. On seeing Farzin arrive Flavia greeted him with a startled expression and a quizzical smile.

  “My word, what is this that you have brought back for us my love?”

  Behind Farzin were two unfamiliar vampires. Conversation in the room died instantly. Darius was sat thoughtfully in his habitual seat when they entered. He rose slowly and whispered briefly to Max before stepping forwards into the centre of the room, waiting expectantly. Max slipped away into the shadows, vanishing soundlessly. Farzin quickly looked around as though making a swift calculation. He stopped just short of Darius and inclined his head in a vague bow to his Clan Leader. His new companions followed, bowing in unison more fully from the waist down, respectful of Darius’s status as Clan Leader. Darius in turn greeted the newcomers.

  “Welcome.” The gravitas rumbled around the dusty room and he said nothing more.

  Farzin moved aside and retreated slightly and the smaller of the two stepped forwards. He was a little shorter than Farzin and had paler skin. His hair was long and black but with a distinct white forelock and was tied back in a pony-tail. He had a neatly trimmed goatee-beard and sideburns reaching down to his chin. The overall effect was that of a bohemian poet or circus compere of old. He wore dark, canvas trousers and a black, hooded top that concealed his frame well, although Darius suspected that he was probably rather slight. He bowed with a flourish and his every movement seemed a little grandiose. However, both Darius and Flavia had their attention drawn to the character behind him, each for very different reasons.

  He was dressed similarly to his smaller companion other than his hooded top had its sleeves ripped off at the shoulders, revealing thick, powerful arms that were covered in tattoos and black, studded cuffs around his wrists. His hood was up and although he stood with his head bowed slightly, as though in deference, Darius glimpsed coarse, heavy-set features. A Polynesian, tribal tattoo snaked from the side of his face, over his cheek and down his neck. A deep scar ran all the way down the other cheek. He stood towering over his friend, taller even than Darius himself, and was a truly daunting figure.

  The smaller of the two spoke. “Ricardo,” he said, before gesturing behind him, “and Simeon.”

  He extended a hand and Darius did likewise, touching each other’s palms and bowing formally, before touching the same hand to their foreheads and then their hearts in a mark of respect and honour.

  Darius introduced the members of the clan. By the time the formal introductions were over Max had reappeared in the room holding forth two antique chalices. He held them out now to Darius with a deep bow, before retreating, still stooped respectfully. Flavia could not, for a long time, remember seeing such subservient formality displayed by Max towards Darius. The vessels were made from bronze and were crafted in the design of dragons. On each the dragon’s tail and spine curled around the stem and the goblet itself was made up of the dragon’s main body and wings. On one the dragon’s head lay to the right and joined up with the left wing at the far side of the goblet, the other chalice was the mirror image.

  Darius accepted them with the same amount of gravity and dipped slightly to Max before turning back to Ricardo. This time he bowed more deeply and stepped forwards to offer both chalices. As in all such vampyric ceremonies, a certain amount of pomp was displayed, reflecting their ancient history. Ricardo, showing an equal measure of respect, bent forwards gracefully and accepted one. The entire proceeding was interspersed with solemn pauses during which the two vampires might, to a casual observer, appear as nothing more than ghastly statues. Finally, now standing only a pace away from each other, they raised their goblets in salutation. They drank the animal blood in each that Max had procured so swiftly from somewhere outside. Farzin watched Darius most carefully with eyes that shone in fervour.

  Max appeared soundlessly again at their sides, taking both goblets away and the two faced each other for a long moment before speaking.

  Darius broke the silence with a rumble from his chest that barely made it as high as his throat. “You are welcome amongst us and may you seek refuge for as long as you wish.”

  “You are most benevolent and your offer does credit to you.”

  “And what has brought you to the shelter of our clan in these unusual times?” Darius dispensed with pleasantries and got straight down to the crux of the matter.

  Another bow from Ricardo and he smiled, perhaps nervously. “My brother and I have had an ‘encounter’ with a collection of humans on a military base not so distant from here. We have been aware of them for some time but have only just found their location this very day. In these, as you say, unusual times, we thought to approach the humans in one manner or another.”

  There was a malicious glint in his eye and Darius realized exactly what manner he intended.

  He continued. “Like your clan we have not been able to feast properly for longer than we care to remember and these humans present an interesting opportunity; an opportunity that we would not lightly want to relinquish. When we arrived at the military base we were greeted by your clan brother.” He turned and bowed towards Farzin now who returned the gesture with a sly smile.

  Darius wondered what they had been contriving and already felt uneasy. He looked again at the larger vampire standing motionless and quiet, his head still bowed like a robot waiting to be activated and commanded. He wondered…

  “Your brother Farzin,” Ricardo said, “fortunately made us aware of your pre-existing interests in the humans before any oversight could occur. Naturally we understand that Protocol would dictate we seek to discuss this matter with yourself, Clan Leader.”

  He bowed again, his head virtually down to the level of his waist and held that position for a pause in a grand gesture of deference. Darius took his time before replying, measuring the atmosphere of the room, the nuances of his words and the seeming understanding between the newcomers and Farzin. What had been discussed? What had been promised? The confrontations with Farzin had been becoming increasingly intense and hostile and Darius felt a shift in allegiance and intention. He rued not having found the humans sooner. He was now suddenly acutely aware that he had remained in hiding too long and had not looked hard enough himself. He regretted not having acted before his hand would surely be forced, but most of all that Farzin had not told him he had already located the humans’ location. Betrayal!

  Darius spoke slowly, yet loudly, as though delivering a well-rehearsed speech. “You are correct and most esteemed to seek proper Protocol in this, and I commend you for it. It is true that we have been observing this band of humans for some time and have staked a claim in them. I have been considering the best time and manner in which to approach them. We are now ready to m
ake ourselves known to the humans.

  “We will offer them our aid and protection without which they will fall into darkness. We will help them to build a new and better world where vampires are not viewed as the eternal aggressors but as benevolent overlords. We will teach them our ways, our history and our protocols. We will step from the shadows and be welcomed henceforth not as the damnable creatures of myth and legend but as beings with an equally valid existence. In return we will exact a tribute from them, not overly demanding or unobtainable but sufficient for the needs of the seven of us here.”

  Like thunder his voice filled the darkening room and as with a storm there followed a period of silence while the world prepares for the rain. Ricardo stood absolutely motionless, absorbing the words with a fixed expression that was inscrutable. Then he smiled and seemed to relax his shoulders.

  “You are most wise Clan Leader. This is without doubt a situation that must be handled with utmost caution. To get the opening play wrong and place us all in an unfavourable position would indeed be lamentable.”

  It was not wasted on Darius that he had said ‘us’, rather than just ‘you’. Darius had chosen his words carefully and spoken of the humans being sufficient for the needs only of the seven members of his clan. There had been no mention of extending the offer to include these two outsiders.

  “I commend you for your laudable desire to create a bridge between the two species,” Ricardo said. “Were your desires shared by a greater number of both I have no doubt that the world would be a more harmonious and agreeable place for us all to live.

  “I am, however, somewhat more skeptical than your wise self. I do not believe that the humans would welcome us as ‘benevolent overlords’, now or at any time in the foreseeable future. I believe that we would still be seen as an evil that has haunted mankind for countless generations. We would be feared and driven back to the shadows like dogs but this time with the disadvantage that our existence would be common knowledge, rather than relying on the protection of ignorance.