Twice Bitten, Twice Die (The Blood of the Infected Book 3)

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Twice Bitten, Twice Die (The Blood of the Infected Book 3) Page 34

by Antony Stanton


  Matthews and Gillen stood guarding the doors on the first floor. Vallage and Straddling came up huffing and puffing as Bannister followed Lewis to the top floor.

  “Come on, come on,” Matthews chivvied his sergeants and turned to trail Bannister.

  A shadow moved just beyond the corpse of Masters along the corridor, catching Matthews’s eye. He squinted closely through the glass panel and then nudged the door aside.

  “Alžběta!” he squealed.

  She looked up from her kneeling position by the corpse, blood around her lips. Her teeth parted as she stared at him for a moment. Then she leapt to her feet and ran. Her movements were not the effortless flowing movements of one of the vampires, but they were certainly a lot faster than a human. His gun hung limply in his hands as he watched her flee.

  “Shoot, damn fool,” Straddling snapped at him and barged past, but he was too late and his bullets missed their rapidly disappearing target.

  For a moment all of their attention was directed at the scene. For a moment nobody was watching their backs. The opposite doors to the west opened and there was a blur of action. Farzin was there only long enough to throw something. Then he was gone. Not his favourite method of killing, too remote to fully appreciate the wonder of the act itself, and no build up to enjoy, but it served a purpose.

  From a distance of only several metres he could barely miss. The wooden leg of a desk was big enough and solid enough to do substantial damage. It hit Gillen on the back of the head with a deep thud. He made no sound as he pitched forwards. He did not put his hands out to protect himself as he connected with the floor. No noise came from his lips as his right leg spasmed. Only one missile required per soldier, especially when thrown by a vampire.

  None of the soldiers saw where the attack had come from, so quick had Farzin moved. They turned as Gillen hit the floor. His head was crumpled and smashed open, and although it was immediately obvious, Straddling checked for a pulse nevertheless.

  Now with all of them looking wildly about, they shuffled fearfully backwards and up the steps. They were being torn apart and falling all too quickly.

  Bell had just started down the corridor after his commanding officer as Bannister arrived at the top floor. Lewis was slowly making his way towards the next doorway.

  “Follow him then, numb-nuts,” Bannister spat out and brushed past Bell.

  Lewis paused, waiting for him. Sounds of disturbance came from below but that was not his concern now. There was a whisper of air as the door at the far end opened. A screech of rage made him spin around. Infected!

  She was young and running fast. Instinctively he raised his rifle.

  Click - empty.

  The woman was closing.

  Without hesitation he dropped it and whipped his pistol out. Holding it firmly in two hands he fired; three shots. Each perfectly found their mark. The woman pirouetted and fell. Immediately there was another disturbance of air and the sound of breaking glass made him turn. The vampire that he had chased had dived in at the window of the office that he now stood outside. The glass smashed but the blinds had seemed to entangle it, just for a moment as it roared and tossed them aside. But it was a moment that it had not accounted for, and a moment was long enough for Lewis. With his finger still on the trigger he fired. The first couple of rounds were tentative, almost apologetic. He expected to miss. He expected the vampire to miraculously avoid the shots as they always seemed to be able to do. But as an impact spread a little blossom of red across the creature’s chest, Lewis became emboldened. The vampire was as surprised as he was, as he squeezed the trigger again. More shots rang out in quick succession, some ripping into its body. He carried on firing as it was flung back out the window and even after it was out of sight.

  Bannister was at his shoulder immediately. “Fuck yeah! That’s one down.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” Lewis did not procrastinate. He checked his soldiers were all there. Only seven, he thought.

  Straddling nodded. “That’s all boss.”

  There was nothing to be said now. It was time to move, not to mourn; time to save themselves. The end of the corridor beckoned and the cafeteria beyond, with whatever safety it now offered.

  CHAPTER 20

  The banging was different this time. It was more deliberate, clearly the act of a lucid mind rather than insanity. And it was desperate.

  “Open! Open!”

  Sergeant Hutchison leapt to react. With Charlotte Collins assisting they removed the items wedged into the handles and flung the doors open. The soldiers all but fell into the cafeteria. Collins gasped in shock. Firstly, there was surprise to see Sergeant Vallage and the soldiers from Headley Court, but there was also shock at the state of them all. Bannister was in bad shape with a bleeding and bruised face as he limped past her. Matthews’s hands and arms looked as though they had been dipped in a bloody trough. Leading Aircraftman Neale’s clothes were torn and he held his shoulder carefully, and Lewis had a wound on his neck that had soaked his shirt. They looked utterly wretched and beaten.

  “My god!” Singleton rushed past Collins. “What happened?”

  The soldiers were dazed. Straddling held his head in his hands. Matthews was sobbing gently, the tears scraping a channel through the grime and blood on his cheeks. They all collapsed into chairs or on the floor. Only Lewis remained on his feet.

  “Tend to these men,” he rasped, ignoring the question.

  “That’s all?” Singleton asked, her eyes wide. “Nobody else?”

  Lewis shook his head ruefully. “We’re lucky to be alive. They tore through us like it was just a game to them. But we got one of the bastards,” he said with vengeance in his voice. He saw Rhind and Bennett looking at him from their private huddle. “We had to kill the Incarcerated too,” he added. “I’m so sorry. There was no way we could avoid it.”

  Rhind closed his eyes and hung his head. His hope of curing his wife was smothered.

  Singleton tried to force Lewis to sit as the doctors tended to them all. “You’ve been bitten!” she said, aghast when she came to the injury at the base of his neck.

  He shrugged, playing down the seriousness. “It’s nothing.”

  “But…” she stuttered, “you’re bitten. Was it one of the infected?”

  “S’all right doc” Bannister muttered. “It was only a vampire. And a minor one at that.”

  She stared at them incredulously, struggling to take in the comment. That a vampire bite could possibly be a non-event, and favourable to anything else seemed ludicrous, but it was true. At least this way he would stay alive - and uninfected.

  Rhind and Bennett had sidled over.

  “You killed the Incarcerated?” Rhind asked quietly. “All of them?”

  Lewis thought for a moment. “Actually I don’t think we killed them all.” He did some mental calculations. “Maybe only five or six of them.”

  “The ones that we tested on?”

  Lewis shrugged. He was exhausted and at the moment this was low on his list of priorities. Staying alive had taken on renewed importance. It was all very well being willing to die for their cause but if they did all die before a cure could be created and used on others, then that cause was lost anyway.

  “I really don’t know. I mean I recognised Burt and we did kill him, but otherwise how can you tell them apart?”

  Rhind nodded sagely but Bennett shook his head. “The one they call Ving. You can tell him apart. He’s big and black. Did you kill him?”

  After a pause Lewis answered. “No, I don’t think we did.” From the expression on their faces he assumed this was good news.

  Matthews was still sobbing, quietly moaning as he hugged his knees to his chest. “What do we do now? What on earth do we do now?”

  Lewis had no answers. Their chances at creating a cure lay in tatters. Their attempts at survival were amounting to nothing. They had nowhere to go and were slowly but surely being killed off. He had no answers and no more energy. He slump
ed down into a chair, staring listlessly into space. “I guess we just wait. For now.”

  They did not have to wait long. Collins smelled it, or rather, Wilson reacted first. He started to get agitated, growling and pacing restlessly.

  Collins tried to work out what was bothering him. Suddenly it came to her. “Smoke!” she cried out.

  In an instant they were all on their feet. Sure enough, wisps of smoke could be seen coming under the doors to the west. Lewis touched the wood. It was warm.

  “Quickly,” he shouted. “Get towels, blankets, whatever’s available. Dampen it and block the gaps. Move fast.”

  There was a flurry of activity. Lewis stood back, watching.

  “Hutchison,” he barked, “keep watch over the other door. Straddling, check the windows. Put some kind of barricade up against them all, just to slow anything down that tries to come through, to give us a chance to kill it. Stay sharp everyone, this is not the time to get distracted.”

  “They’re not going to stop until we’re all dead…” Matthews started to wail.

  “Matthews, that’s enough.” Lewis cut him short. “I don’t want to hear it.” But he knew it was the truth. The vampires were clearly determined to kill them all at any cost. This was far from over. Their ammunition was dwindling and they were out of options.

  Everyone rushed around doing what they could. They tried to close the gaps around the door and Straddling was just going to check on the windows when there was the sound of glass smashing. It came from the small store room, the one where Wood had discovered Isabelle. Everybody grouped closely together, brandishing their guns in fear. The door was closed and Lewis paused, listening. If this was where it was all to finish, the climax of all their efforts, then so be it. He was ready. He had seen and experienced enough. Death held no fear for him now. He was too exhausted, disheartened and angry to be scared.

  “Hutchison,” he said, “keep the doors covered and keep that smoke out. Straddling, be ready.”

  The two sergeants organised their men. Everybody moved with solemn purpose, as though preparing for a funeral. They had seen plenty of horrors to know when to act quickly. Lewis waited for a moment and then approached the storeroom. He paused and checked on everyone. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. Then he flung the door open.

  A tall figure stood in the middle of the small room. It had its eyes closed and head bowed, arms spread wide in a gesture of arrogant defiance or perhaps subjugation. Lewis recognised him immediately from their brief meeting in the church. He was, after all, quite unmistakable.

  Sebastian opened his eyes and looked intensely at Lewis. There was no threat there, no hint of malice, but there was no warmth either. Lewis aimed his pistol at the vampire’s head and stepped backwards.

  “Out,” he ordered. Only then did he notice the other. A figure lay at Sebastian’s feet. The vampire bent forwards and picked the man up as though he was weightless. He brought him into the cafeteria and laid him gently upon the floor. It was Private Rohith. His clothes were dirty and torn, his body was wasted and wan. There were gasps and exclamations all round. They had all assumed he and Sergeant Sinna had been killed. Singleton rushed to his side.

  “He’s alive,” she exclaimed.

  “I am afraid Death already hovers nearby,” Sebastian breathed. "His spirit is strong but his hold on life is weak."

  She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

  He paused before he spoke again. "I could save him but I do not think you would approve of my methods."

  She shuddered and as the doctors fretted over Rohith, Sebastian kept his attention on Lewis. He was very aware of the weapons all aimed at him. He could avoid one or two, but if they all fired simultaneously then he was surely dead. He was not afraid though, he was quite prepared for the end. There was nothing left for him now. His clan were all gone. He had no home and nobody to keep him. He glanced at Collins and saw the emotions that competed for supremacy in her eyes; fear, relief and hope.

  “Hold your fire,” Lewis ordered his troops.

  “Captain Lewis,” Straddling said, “he’s one of them. We’ve got to kill him.”

  “Not until he has a chance to explain himself.”

  “We have to kill him,” Straddling insisted. “Think of Vida – how easily she turned on her own husband. We can’t trust them, none of them.”

  “Hold your fire,” Lewis snapped at his sergeant, silencing his protests.

  “Do not be afraid,” Sebastian rumbled. His eyes were still on Lewis but the sentiment was directed outwards at them all. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

  Collins could sense the same thing she had felt when she had first met him in the petrol station and then again, alone in the guard room: the numbness creeping into her mind, the relaxing of her sensibilities, the falling. Only this time it was much stronger. Whereas before he claimed he had not intended to charm her, perhaps this time he was doing his utmost. Perhaps this time he was trying to win everyone over, simultaneously. It was Wilson’s barking that kept her grounded in reality. She tried to remain objective but it was hard.

  “Where did you find him?” Lewis indicated Private Rohith.

  “The others were keeping him alive, feeding off him,” Sebastian replied without directly answering the question. “I followed them and when they left him to die I took him. I bring him to you now as a gesture of my good intentions.”

  “How do we know this evildoer didn’t feed off Rohith himself?” Straddling snarled.

  Sebastian now turned the full force of his stare on the man. He assessed Straddling’s heart rate, matched his breathing, dilated his pupils and subtly changed his stance. For a moment his attention was concentrated entirely on him, like a powerful spotlight. “If that were the truth why then would I bring him here?”

  Straddling wilted and fell back a step with a shrug. His resolve, along with his gun wavered, as he lowered his head meekly.

  “Why are you here?” Lewis asked.

  It was Sebastian’s turn to shrug. “Maybe I want atonement, to make amends. Maybe I want to help. What does it matter why? I am here now.”

  “Can you help?” Lewis was quick to cut to the chase. They were not in a position right now to refuse any offer of assistance, and they were not in a position to dally.

  “There are five of them I believe; three vampires and two minions. I am but one. I am not sure what aid I can give, yet I will try.”

  “We killed one of the vampires,” Lewis said quickly, “so there are only two.

  “Are you sure you killed a vampire?” Sebastian was not entirely convinced.

  Lewis frowned, now questioning himself. “Well, I drilled him full of holes and he fell from a window so I assume so.”

  “Let us hope so,” Sebastian answered. “But they are still not favourable odds.” It was intoxicating for him to be surrounded by so many people. He had not been in the company of this number of humans for many years. Everything about them seemed fascinating: their smell, their individual reactions, the way they shifted nervously, huddling for support and comfort. He found he could empathise with them, knew their struggles and fears. And he found that he really did want to help. He felt little guilt for the life he had lived. It had not been of his choosing. But now, perhaps, was the time for restitution nevertheless.

  It was quite an overwhelming experience, full of possibility. Could this be his future? Could they all learn to live alongside one another after all? In the society of yesterday, he knew that would have been an impossibility. But in this fearful new world where the extraordinary had become commonplace and everything had changed so drastically, could necessity not forge unlikely alliances? Necessity was, after all, the mother of invention. Could invention not have siblings? Siblings such as acceptance, reliance, and open-mindedness? Could they not learn to live with each other and form that relationship of symbiosis that Farzin had spoken of, oh so long ago now? Perhaps. Where he had held no expectation, even now hope started to take
shape deep within him.

  “You mentioned a name,” he said now to Straddling, more softly.

  Straddling seemed taken aback by being addressed directly. “Yes,” he stammered, “Vida.”

  “And who is she?” he asked, elucidating every syllable slowly. His intensity had not waned.

  “She was the wife of one of our soldiers,” Straddling said, tripping over his words nervously. “She’s been turned into one of them… one of you.”

  “Her name is Vida?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “But how ironic.”

  “Can you save her?” Lewis asked.

  Sebastian felt a pang of dejection. He would love to be able to give these humans good news. He would love to be able to do so much more for them. “In truth I do not know for sure. I have never been in this position. Presumably she is undergoing the process of turning. I assume she is under the influence of my former clan member Farzin, at least until she has become a vampire fully and returned to her own senses. At present she is probably unaware of her actions, does not recognise herself let alone anyone else. If Farzin has turned her then he will hold sway over her.”

  Sebastian had always been good at charming people, much more able than Farzin. His ability dated back a lifetime. He had mastered it as a vampire but had been adept at it before. Even as a human he knew he could often persuade people to bend to his point of view. Others just seemed to take to him naturally and wanted to please him. That characteristic was largely responsible for getting him where and who he was now. So perhaps there was a chance for him to turn Vida from Farzin’s spell, although he very much doubted it. Without some significant form of distraction, the hold Farzin would have over her, at least until she became a vampire proper, would be just too strong for him to interrupt.

 

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