Empire of Blood: A Dystopian Vampire Trilogy (Bundle, Boxset) (Plus Two Empire of Blood Short Stories)

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Empire of Blood: A Dystopian Vampire Trilogy (Bundle, Boxset) (Plus Two Empire of Blood Short Stories) Page 50

by Robert S. Wilson


  His body slammed into Jack’s with a force neither one of them expected. Hank’s hand burst forward and reached into Jack’s chest and broke the skin just inside his ribs and he gripped hold of the rib bone and pulled with all his might. When his hand came back it brought a chunk of flesh and bone nearly as large as his hand and blood spat out in a huge gob from the open wound. Jack’s body fell with a splash to the pavement like a sack of potatoes and for a split second Hank thought the thing was dead.

  Jack swung his left leg up and kicked Hank in the gut hard enough to send his body backward and off balance.

  “You’re bloody stronger than I thought, Mr. Evans. I might even have to take back all that bollocks I said about you being so weak.” He laughed and spat out some more teeth. “But I hope you know, you still don’t have a chance. I’m only just getting started and I can go all bloody night long.”

  It was Hank’s turn to laugh now. “You think I’m spent? I’ve only just begun myself. And unlike you I can keep going once the sun’s come up.” Hank punctuated the sentence by running forward and somersaulting feet first into Jack’s rib cage, his right shoe pressing into the already deep wound Hank had just made in Jack’s chest. He squatted down with his foot still in place inside the bastard’s ribcage. Jack started punching at Hank’s side and Hank tuned out the pain as he grabbed hold of the back of Jack’s head and started to thrash it against the pavement. He would make the fucker bleed as much as possible. Then when the time was right…

  * * *

  Jamie, one of the Foederati soldiers assigned to watch the safehouse turned on the TV in the small little room. He set it to the local news then sat back down at the table next to George. George had been eager to see what the national and local networks were putting out there. He didn’t have much hope that the Empire wasn’t diluting every single broadcast that went out. After a short segment about an unrelated riot that had occurred in the French Quarter earlier in the evening, they actually began to talk about the book. George was excited. He couldn’t believe a local station was actually getting away with spreading the news. The reporter was out on location at one of the many areas of town where you could pick up a copy of the book asking people what they thought about it.

  All kinds of opinions from believing it was faked, to being outraged at what it had to say about the Emperor, to being completely confused and undecided on how to feel were showcased in the report. Before long, a large number of trucks began to arrive nearby and gunshots erupted right there on live television. The last thing the channel broadcast before going into static was the dropped camera’s view of a wet city street and the sound of the female reporter’s scream followed by a solitary gunshot. A tear slid down George’s cheek as he sat there watching the blue snow on the screen. Neither he nor Jamie spoke as they watched the flickering static.

  Finally Jamie got up and changed the channel to a national station right in the middle of a live announcement from the Emperor himself.

  “Lord Caesar, what can you tell us about this book that’s being distributed out on the streets?”

  A multitude of microphones were aimed in Joseph’s face as he smiled and spoke calmly.

  “Those who would have us dissolve into hell have spread the seed of doubt amongst the flock. But we are strong and we will hold strong together as these sheep go astray and become terrible wolves who will attack us when we least expect it. But not only will we be strong, we will not wait for them to come back to us with their sharp teeth and claws. We will bring the war to them. There is a growing militia out there. Some of you might have heard of this organization before. It has been decades since they have had the guts to show their faces before the Lord’s mighty Empire, but they are called the Foederati. And they will stop at nothing to destroy our way of life and drag our souls down into hell.

  “So, let us show them what the Lord is capable of and that He will have no patience with those who would disobey Him. Brothers and sisters, we are now a nation at civil war and it is time for you to choose if you will be on the side of the devil, the great beast who will devour your souls and spit you out into the lake of fire… or if you are with the Lord your God almighty!”

  A cheer rose up from within the temple where they were filming. George swallowed hard and thought about what this nation would be like in civil war with this madman in control.

  * * *

  Gunfire and explosions filled the nighttime air as Tommy ran toward the battle with his M-16 loaded and ready. He was proud to be doing something more with himself than drinking it away for the first time in his life. When he made it behind the black Foederati van he and his brother Daryn had driven in with, he found him ducked down inside the sliding door reloading his own M-16.

  “You all right, Daryn?”

  “I’m just fine. And hey, now that you’re here, you can help me out.” He took a deep breath and then pulled his legs up into the van. “Get in here and get your ass in the driver’s seat and start ‘er up. We’re goin’ for a ride.” Daryn grinned and Tommy couldn’t help but grin back at the sight of it. He climbed into the van and did as his brother told him to. The keys were in the ignition, so all he had to do was turn the engine over. It roared into life as he revved up the gas. In the rearview mirror he could see Daryn pointing his M-16 out one of the side windows and motioning for Tommy to drive. “Go, Tommy Ray. Go, go, go.”

  Tommy shifted the gear into drive and hit the gas and the van took off faster than he expected. He swerved the wheel around until they were headed directly for the enemy who was currently holed up behind a large concrete fountain shaped into the likeness of the Emperor himself. As they grew closer Tommy swerved the van to the left so that Daryn could fire at the Imperial soldiers hiding behind the concrete statue of Caesar. But what they found behind that statue was not what they expected.

  Intermingled with the dozens of Imperial solders were human vampires and as Tommy tried to swerve the van back around, one of them jumped up and latched its teeth onto Daryn’s throat and he began to scream in a gurgling manner. Tommy screamed too, twisting the steering wheel round and round and round until it seemed like the van would never get turned around and the last thing he saw in the rearview mirror as the van smashed into a brick wall was Daryn’s feet kicking just inside the window as his body was pulled from the van. Then everything went black.

  Chapter 41

  Bitter Vengeance

  Simon reached down and picked Ishan up from underneath his arms then swung the ancient vampire over his shoulder. He had no idea just how ironic it was that he was doing this. He tried to carry him steadily as the ground began to shake. Rocks, dust and stalactites fell all around. He picked up his speed, trying to keep Ishan’s body from getting pelted as much as possible. No matter what was happening on the surface it would always be safe deep within the belly of the hive. Sliding down narrow corridors, Simon eventually came to the large open space that always made his stomach drop when he looked down into its black empty abyss.

  Being accustomed to seeing in the dark made it even more dizzying when you were actually able to look down into a pit and see darkness. That’s how deep the pit was. All along the cave ceiling and the various chunks of rock that spread out into the open air thousands of ancestor vampires perched hanging upside down in preparation of the coming sunrise. Simon knew that soon he too would have to lie down and close his eyes before the coming dawn revealed itself. He found a long enough ditch to place Ishan in where his body would be safe and covered and dark enough to keep any humans from seeing him if they should wander in such a place. Not that they would survive for long if they had.

  Once Ishan’s body was inside and as comfortable as Simon could imagine he could make it, he sat watching as his friend continued his peaceful sleep. Simon couldn’t help but worry if Ishan would ever wake up. Even in all the years Simon had experienced of Ishan’s life, he had never known of a vampire draining a queen. Hell, he had never known of another queen existing. And yet their Qu
een did not seem at all surprised. She seemed to expect what was coming. And where was she now? Simon hadn’t seen her since she dragged him into the darkness away from the battle. He longed to be near her now. To feel her strength. He needed it more than he needed Ishan to wake up. He felt guilty for feeling that way but that was just how addictive her power had become over him. It was effortless to admit it to himself. It was no wonder Ishan had been in such despair that night at the city’s edge. Simon had since experienced through Ishan’s memories exactly what had happened. Simon couldn’t imagine how much it would destroy him if the Queen were to make such terrible threats toward him. He knew he would rather die.

  * * *

  Imperial soldiers and vampires were littering the streets ahead as Dustin and Jonathan hid with about a dozen other Foederati soldiers behind the cover of an overturned minivan. The soldier in command, Lieutenant Dalton, was peeking around the front end of the van before turning to the rest of them.

  “As soon as those fuckers are past Bourbon Street we’re gonna each toss over a grenade at the same time. Now, that won’t do nothing against those bloodsuckers, but have your stake-gun ready so as soon as you’ve tossed your grenade you can get a good shot in at those flying fuckers, all right?” The men nodded each making eye contact with each other. No more than ten minutes passed and the Imperial soldiers made their way past Bourbon Street and Dustin and his fellow Foederati soldiers threw over their grenades.

  A much larger series of explosions than Dustin had expected took place and nearly blew the minivan over on the men taking cover behind it. Dustin scooped up his stake-gun quickly and pointed it at the sky. At first it was hard to see them in the rain. But a moment later, several of the vampires swooped down toward the van to make an attack and Dustin pulled the trigger of his stake-gun, managing to bring down one of them. Before long he was surrounded by men shooting stakes into the air. Some of them struck their targets and some of them couldn’t have been farther from, but all in all they managed to dispatch the enemy well enough.

  Dustin dropped his stake gun to hang from the strap at his side and brought up his AK-47 and followed Jonathan, Dalton and the other men as they quietly ran out into the open, being careful to keep low, in order to search for any undispatched enemies in the area. When each soldier signaled the all clear, the men grouped together at the center just in case they had missed someone.

  * * *

  Hank only made a couple of good spots of blood against the blacktop with Jack’s head before the bastard got out from under him and sent him skidding into the pavement himself face first. His cheekbone was broken, but the stinging pressure only helped him to focus as he rose up and wiped the blood from his mouth. The wind and rainfall was picking up again and as Hank turned around to face Jack, he could see only fast blurry raindrops and darkness. Starting in the direction Jack had just been, Hank called out into the darkness.

  “If you’re so big and bad killing little fucking babies then why do you have to hide from me, huh? What the fuck are you so afraid of? You’re a fucking vampire for Christ sakes and I’m only a man.” He stood there listening to the echoes of his voice and the thudding drops of rain.

  “All right, mate. Let’s do this right out in the open.”

  Hank turned around only to be face first with a fist coming at his face. It knocked him sideways, but again it only added to his sense of resolve. He came back swinging. Left, right, left, two rights, a left; each one followed by a weak failed attempt to block and Jack’s face bloodying more and more. Then he went for the gut and Jack grabbed him by the hair and sent his knee into Hank’s chest, knocking the air out of him again. Jack dropped him to the ground to gasp for breath again.

  “Always those fucking lungs, eh? Wouldn’t it be nice if you didn’t have to keep sodding breathing?”

  Then all the universe converged into one single painful point at Hank’s face. He fell backwards spying Jack’s leg as it came back down from the kick. And still he couldn’t breathe. Jack pounced on him then, punching him in the gut over and over. Hank bent forward still trying to breathe and Jack whispered into his ear.

  “You know most ah my kind woulda just went for your blood already. But no, me, I like watching you suffer. And besides.” He stood up and spoke loudly with his arms reached out to both sides in an almost shrugging gesture. “I’m already quite full if I do say so myself.”

  Something seemed to snap in Hank’s lungs then. It caused him to finally gasp in air and scream out in pain mixed with fury. Jack was just watching him and smiling all the same. Enjoying the show. Hank lunged forward and pressed the palm of his hand against Jack’s face turning it sideways and then sank his teeth into the side of the bastard’s neck and started to suck inward wanting nothing more than to drain and devour every ounce of this sick terrible creature.

  Something changed in Jack’s stature. He began to struggle letting his legs drop out below him and punching with both fists into Hank’s back, but Hank simply fell with the vampire, his teeth still latched into place the muscles of his mouth stretching as he sucked the blood out like a siphon.

  Jack screamed a whimpery sort of screech, pulling at Hank’s hair and clawing at his neck. And still Hank held on. He wondered how many children had been torn away from the world by this monster. He wondered how many more years his son would have lived if it hadn’t been for this vile thing in his mouth. It was the most disgusting and yet decedent taste to drink the blood of such a horrendous creature, man, whatever it was that Jack Draper was. It was like he had said; he was not like the others. Hank had met enough vampires to tell, too.

  Jack’s body began to lighten and his flesh began to harden and still Hank took in every bit of blood that would trickle out. Until finally he realized he was just sucking dry skin. He let the body fall backwards with a hollow kind of crackle even as the rain dripped and splashed all around him. The vampire’s eyes were wide with terror, his face was thin as the skull beneath the flesh and his body looked like a nearly dry clay statue posed to hide its face from a coming blast. As the rainwater pooled in small patches of Jack’s clothes, Hank’s vision began to blur. Everything around him seemed to be dissolving. And before he could stop it, he felt himself being sucked down into another time and place, this new world engulfing him and choking him like a body of water. And at the moment he realized what was happening, he panicked, mentally clawing at any way to get out, but it was already over. He was already drowning in a sea of terrible unfamiliar memories.

  Chapter 42

  Dreams of the Dead

  The first few years Hank experienced life through Jack Draper’s eyes were quiet. They went by almost like a movie on fast forward. A few moments stopped here and there. The sounds of a young woman laughing from another room. But all too often little Jack spent his time in a dark quiet place by himself.

  At least ever since Mummy found the rabbit.

  She had screamed at him quite a bit then. It was unlike any other time. Jack was scared, but… but at least she was talking to him. Unlike the nights that would go by, men coming in and out… often buckling their trousers as they went to leave. He reckoned she spent far more time with men she’d just met than she ever had with him. Except for that one triumphant day. She was holding the rabbit by its ears as far away from her body as she could, its eyes plucked out and its jaw ripped away. He wondered if she would have made such a fuss about it if she had found it outside and not under his pillow.

  He liked to touch it under there when he couldn’t sleep at night. Pet the fur, feel the flesh. He’d rather enjoyed eating its eyeballs too, but Mummy still didn’t know about that.

  As young Jack sat cross-legged thinking about the rabbit, the moaning started again from the other room. But this time Jack didn’t let it get him down. He was going to wait until they both fell asleep and then he would do something to make Mummy really notice him this time.

  Hours went by and more and more moaning but eventually it heightened for a moment like
it always did and then died down into odd whimpers until the place became once again silent. Jack got up from his seat on the floor and went wandering into the kitchen. When he got as far as the cupboards and no one came out to stop him he reached up and pulled open the large drawer that Mummy kept all the big kitchen knives in.

  He pulled out a long serrated blade and smiled at his innocent blue eyes reflected in it. It would be like when Mummy carved the turkey. He giggled. He liked turkey. And he liked to watch the movements of Mummy’s arm as she carved a big bulky bird into smaller pieces. Still in his long night shirt and socks, Jack crept through the long dark living room toward Mummy’s bedroom. Jack had never had a daddy. He was starting to formulate an idea on why that might be as of late. But right now he wasn’t concerned with daddies. He only wanted Mummy to get mad and scream at him again, to really perk up and take notice of him.

  He slipped into the room and took slow cautious steps toward the bed, each footstep waiting between long snoring breaths coming from the bed before putting down the next. Mummy’s soft pink naked skin was draped over an incredibly hairy grey man, whose face was as wrinkled as a prune. Jack stifled a laugh at the thought of the squeezing the old man’s face and purple juice squirting out. He was sure what would really come out would be much more like the thick red goo that came out of the rabbit. He didn’t quite know how he knew this, only that he did.

  When he was right up against the far side of the bed where the man’s prune-like face lay pointed in his direction and snoring softly, Jack gently placed the serrated edge of the knife over the man’s neck as quietly and softly as he could so as not to wake the two of them. If he woke the man he’d lose his chance, and if he woke Mummy, she’d surely stop him before he could do the deed.

 

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