Vampire Apocalypse: A World Torn Asunder (Book 1)
Page 1
Vampire Apocalypse: A World Torn Asunder (Book 1)
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Vampire Apocalypse:
A World Torn Asunder
Derek Gunn
Published by Permuted Press at Smashwords.
Copyright 2010 Derek Gunn
www.PermutedPress.com
Prologue
The Beginning of the End
The town slept. A shroud of darkness lay heavily over everything like an impenetrable blanket except for the occasional glow of dull light from oil lamps that dotted the scene and seemed to mirror the pinpricks of light in the sky above. The massive turbines that used to pump out power for the whole state had ground to a halt more than a month earlier as the last reserves of fuel had dried up. The few wind- or water-powered plants were already overloaded and their use was rigidly restricted to emergency and local authority use.
Jack Newton sighed as he watched over his dying hometown. He had been born here, gone to school here and, except for the time he had gone away to train for the Police, he had always been here. He would most probably die here he realised.
The town had been in decline even before the war and way before the energy crisis but there had always been hope before. Now even that seemed to be gone. States with nuclear power stations fared much better of course, but they no longer fed the power grids of surrounding states, unless those poorer states were prepared to pay exorbitant prices. These power states had already begun to grow more dominant, placing guards on their borders to prevent mass migrations. It wasn’t that they didn’t allow people to relocate, but that they wanted to choose those who would be allowed to do so. The talented, those who would be useful in this new world, were welcomed and all others were “encouraged” to leave and left to scrape a living in the poorer, dying states.
The Central Government had quickly lost its influence as local militia were called in to protect each state’s assets. A once proud, united nation rapidly fell into a feudal system where few were rich in the new source of wealth: power. Or at least, power that did not require oil to run its turbines, natural resources, and most importantly, a plentiful supply of food. Many waited as other states were forced to give up what valuables they had - their brightest people, fertile land or mineral rights - in order to receive a trickle of power to keep their people warm for the coming winter.
It hadn’t taken long for an advanced civilisation to regress to such a state. A brief but vicious war in the Middle East had laid waste to the world’s oil fields and left what remained under a cloud of radioactivity that would take decades to dissipate. Millions had died. Whole countries had been wiped off the map, and agreements between countries had stretched and then broken as accusations and blame were tossed around in the aftermath.
Europe closed ranks against a resurging Russia and a dominant China. America, fearful of loosing its foothold in Europe, had sided with the new Franco-British alliance, expending huge amounts of precious resources, both in materials and manpower, in skirmishes that threatened to escalate to total war but always seemed to stop just in time.
The massive drain on stockpiles along with a change in public opinion at home as rationing became widespread, eventually took its toll and America was forced to pull back and allow the sheer numbers of the Russian/Chinese alliance to swarm over a ravaged Europe. Six months it had taken, from the first shot, to redraw the world map and change an entire civilisation. Nations that were once poor because of their lack of technical advancement now reigned supreme in a world where sheer numbers again counted for more than technological advancements that were no longer viable in a world without the power to operate them.
Newton pulled his sheepskin jacket tighter around him as the cold sucked greedily at his body and left him shivering. He could see a glow on the horizon where the neighbouring state still pumped power to its towns and cities from their nuclear plant. The lines that connected his city to the plant were still there, but the power that ran through them was strictly rationed and paid for with everything of value that the state had.
They had already sold off all usable land around their borders in advance to cover themselves for the minimum power requirements to see them through the coming winter. But God only knew what they would do then. They had already lost their top researchers in their chemical and steel industries. He couldn’t really blame them; they had families to feed and the offer of a guaranteed future in a richer state was hard to turn down.
There were already rumblings in the town meetings of using their own local militia to take the power plant by force; they had provided most of the muscle and resources in its construction anyway and only a few miles, and a now contentious state line, separated it from their own control. The plant was actually closer to this city than it was to their nearest centre of population. In fact before the crisis most of those who worked in the plant had come from this very town. There had been a very close relationship between the two states and Fairs had always been shared events between both states. In those days there had been plenty of power for everyone’s needs. If the truth be known there was still plenty of power in the plant but the crisis had changed everyone in the country. Suddenly people began to see that their own positions were far more tenuous than they had realised. Geographical lines had suddenly begun to have a whole new meaning and people quickly grew intolerant of others. Whole communities were ostracised based on age, ability to work and attributes that contributed to the growth of the community. The states with more resources were able to choose those who could live in their environs and they quickly rounded up anybody they did not want and sent them to the poorer states that in turn, did not have the resources to stem the flow. This sudden increase in refugees put even more strain on these states” limited resources and the gap between the states grew.
The fact that the resentment had now come to a point where the townspeople were talking about taking resources by force marked a worrying trend and Newton sighed heavily as he looked out over slumbering town. They could talk all they wanted but there was no way they would be able to take the plant by force. On his last sweep of the border, Newton had noticed that a new military camp had been set up around the Nuclear Plant and armoured vehicles now patrolled the entire area. It seemed that their former friends had been thinking around the same lines and had put their own deterrent in place. A pretty effective deterrent as well as far as Newton was concerned.
The crackle of the radio startled him from his reverie and he turned reluctantly and leaned into the patrol car, snatched at the radio and cursed as it got tangled on the barrel of his shotgun.
“Go ahead, Lou,” he said as he turned back towards the city.
“Chief, we’ve got another one.”
Newton ran a hand over h
is face, massaging his temples as he felt a headache throb at the back of his eyes. Dear God, what is going on?
“Where?” he snapped.
“Over by the Grady’s place, I’ve sent Phil and Jess over already.”
“Okay, I’ll meet them there, out.” He tossed the radio into the passenger seat and climbed into the car, taking a moment to rearrange his gun belt. He had had to tighten the belt by another notch yesterday, and it was still a little loose. The rationing did have at least one positive result. He even felt more alive in the last few weeks than he could remember in quite some time. As police chief it was his responsibility to hold things together, and where he had grown lazy before the troubles in a stagnant community where little happened, he was now stretched far too thin in a town that was now falling apart.
Increasingly he had reports from parents that their children had disappeared; he dutifully investigated but had never found anything. He really didn’t expect to either. It was pretty obvious where they had gone. The lure of the larger cities, those that promised food and power, were just too much for some to ignore. Most of these kids wouldn’t have wanted to face their families when they told them they were leaving so it was easier just to slip away. Newton could understand it to a degree. Dwindling food and resources and a total lack of prospects for the future of the town were strong factors when those young people were deciding their own futures. Those that had stronger family ties tended to remain, but the community was populated primarily with people older than would be needed for the hard times ahead.
There had been ten disappearances over the last two days. While this was certainly more than even this town was used to there had also been three riots, a few suicides and numerous gang fights as the youths that did remain saw their opportunity to expand their own power bases. With all this going on he really had little time to devote to what he was sure was merely a pre-winter rush in the end of year emigration figures. And now, on top of all that, he had a serial killer to content with.
A particularly vicious killer who was taking full advantage of the extended hours of darkness the town’s lack of power resources afforded him. This would make the fourth victim in as many nights. He shivered as he thought of the previous victims and how they had been ripped apart.
He took a left into Wyndell Road, slowing at the now darkened traffic lights at the crossroads before accelerating through onto Fairfield. It was unlikely anyone else was driving as fuel for vehicles had been rationed now for quite some time, but it didn’t hurt to be careful; even small accidents could be fatal now that the hospital was running so low on supplies.
Pat and Jillian Grady lived out by the mall on Route 40. They were a quiet couple, middle-aged with a teenage daughter. He had had reason to caution Jennifer Grady just last week when he had disturbed a late night party in the local cemetery. He had caught a group of them defacing gravestones.
It wasn’t that she had actually been doing any of the damage but she had been unlucky enough to have been caught with those who were. The kids that were left in town had few outlets for their frustration. Their nice, comfortable lives had been drastically changed with the rationing and most of them had been recruited to work the land around the town, trying to get it ready for spring planting. It was backbreaking work, clearing trees and scrub and then burning them and raking the ash into the soil for the nutrients, but it was essential to the whole town’s survival. They hadn’t caused that much damage, but a few headstones had been knocked over and two mausoleums had been broken into.
Jennifer’s parents had been shocked but Newton had played it down with them; kids needed some outlets, and with no TV, no entertainment of any kind, and no alcohol, it was no surprise that they were frustrated.
He saw the flashing lights of the patrol car, pulled in behind it and made his way over to the small group of people ahead of him. Officer Jess Walker saw him approach and excused herself from a conversation with Peter Hackett, the Grady’s neighbour and the town’s sole remaining and now redundant computer specialist. All the other technical experts had left for the states that still had power to run their machines, but Hackett had been born in this town and at sixty-five was damned well going to die in it, or at least that was what he had told Jack when he had asked him about why he stayed after a particularly late session of the local council. Nothing had actually been decided at that meeting, nothing ever really was, but he did recall that all twelve members of the council had passed out drunk, so it hadn’t been a complete waste.
“What have we got, Jessie?” Jack asked as she reached him.
“It’s the worst yet, Chief.” Jess Walker was a handsome woman. She stood five-foot-five, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. At first glance she seemed quite ordinary, especially in a uniform that was designed to emphasise respect and not her physical attributes. But as he approached her Newton was momentarily struck by an intensity in her features that he had not noticed before. A mass of the deepest red curls Jack had ever seen defied her every attempt to imprison them beneath her patrol cap and strands burst out here and there, emphasising the paleness of her complexion. Her eyes were a dazzling green and they seemed to shine with an inner fire that belied her diminutive stature and held him in thrall for a moment before her voice snapped him out of it.
“There’s four dead,” she continued after she had taken a deep breath. “Sorry,” she faltered again as the memory of the carnage caused bile to rise in her throat.
Jack laid his hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said quietly. “I’ll check it out myself and we’ll talk later. See if you can get a cup of coffee from one of the neighbours.”
She nodded and Jack moved past her towards the Grady’s house. The Grady family lived in a good part of town and the houses were all well cared for, though the once well-manicured lawns were now overgrown, ragged at the edges and flowers spilled out of beds chaotically. No-one had time for gardens anymore when whole fields had to be tended.
Two cars still sat in most of the driveways though, with the current shortages these vehicles were of little use to anyone. The Grady’s house was a bungalow, but was one of the few on the street that had an attic conversion, and the extension seemed to loom over him as he approached the door. Four dead, he thought. Jesus, what have we got roaming our streets?
After the second killing he had called the FBI for help, but they had let him know in no uncertain terms that they had enough to do without visiting every damned state that had a homicide. Ever since the power had gone, each state had pretty much been left to their own devices. It was impossible to govern or police a country the size of America when transport was reduced to horses and a few steam trains. Nuclear powered and solar powered vehicles were few and far between, and they were all used to strengthen the country’s defences against the threat of invasion from Russia and China, who seemed to have adapted much better to this new age. Newton doubted that either country would risk an invasion; it was such a long way from Europe by conventional means. But you never knew.
Jack shook himself from his reverie as he passed through the door. The first thing that struck him was the smell. It was a heady mix of excrement and a sickly sweet odour that caught in his throat and made him gag. He fumbled for his handkerchief to try and filter the stench but the flimsy material wasn’t up to the task and he could feel the bile rise in his throat. He gulped air through his mouth, and while this helped him force the nausea down, the rank air dried his throat and started a coughing fit that forced him to breathe in small, careful breaths.
He took a moment to gather himself before continuing on into the house and made his way towards the glow of the gas lamp in the front room. The bodies, or rather what was left of them, were strewn about the room. Jack could see mangled flesh, bare bones and organs in the dull light, although mercifully the pale glow covered the worst of the atrocity in undulating shadows caused by the flickering of the flame as the wick began to run dry of the precious fuel.
The flame
stuttered once more and then suddenly went out. Jack found himself alone in the room and forced down the urge to turn and run out. It wouldn’t do for the others to see him like that and he’d probably break his neck anyway. It still amazed him how dark it was now that street lights no longer provided a background glow. It was pitch dark in the room, so much so that he could not see anything at all. There wasn’t even a faint glow from outside and for a moment he lost his bearings. Which way was he facing? Was the door behind him or to his right? He felt his pulse quicken and the darkness felt like it was closing in on him, as if it was alive and was coiling around him ready to squeeze the life out of him.
Newton clenched his teeth and forced himself to breath normally as he retraced his steps in his mind. He was fairly certain that he had not turned in any direction since he had entered the room so the door should be directly behind him. He turned slowly, pointedly ignoring the grisly scenes that he imagined all around him. He forced himself to breathe through his mouth and slid his feet forward until he reached the door, and then quickened his step until he felt the cool air from outside wash over him.
His skin prickled and he shivered, though whether it was from the sudden chill or the images that still danced through his mind he couldn’t be sure. He assumed that three of the dead would be Pat and Jillian Grady and their daughter Jennifer, but who was the fourth? He put that mystery to one side as he approached Jess again. She had obviously found a kindly neighbour and now sat against her patrol car with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug. He thought of the mangled remains in the house and offered up silent thanks that it wouldn’t be him that had to shift through the bodies to identify them.
Jess looked a lot better. Her cheeks had small red blushes where the steam of the drink wafted upwards, and she looked sheepish as she saw Jack approach.
“Sorry about that,” she began but Jack waved it off.
“Nothing to apologise for,” he interrupted. “I feel queasy myself. Any more of that coffee?” he asked as the pungent aroma reached him.