Vampire Apocalypse: A World Torn Asunder (Book 1)

by Derek Gunn

  The second find of major importance was Father Matthew Reilly. At over six feet in height, and with a voice like rumbling thunder, Reilly was, quite literally, a godsend. His stern countenance belied the kind-hearted man that worked tirelessly to help others cope with the new world they had woken up to. Reilly had a knack with people and was a good judge of people so it was left to him to help people find their place in the community.

  Though he worked hard to integrate people most of the newcomers were quite shell-shocked when they first came out of the serum’s effects. They were disoriented and frightened and tended to gravitate into groups quite quickly. There was safety in numbers and many were happy to remain anonymous while they found their feet. Those that preferred to remain quiet and unseen tended to be drawn to those who were more vocal so it didn’t take much for any strong personalities to gather an audience. At first these groups had contented themselves with merely grumbling and complaining that they could run things better, that they shouldn’t just wait for the thralls and the vampires to find them and even some who suggested that they should surrender before the vampires really got annoyed.

  As the days had turned to weeks, however, their grumbling had become more and more vocal as the number of groups reduced but the membership of those that survived grew alarmingly as certain personalities grew stronger. Their grumbling became more insistent as they began to demand that they be given a voice in the community. In fairness, Harris agreed with them to a point. The original committee still ran everything in the community and, while they had done a good job until now, their abilities may not be the best available for what lay ahead. Some of the new group’s ideas had indeed been worth listening to but, of late, many of these groups seemed to be arguing more for the sake of it than to actually improve things and these arguments were becoming more and more heated.

  Fights had already broken out between some of the different groups that jostled for power. In fact, the Cave had been very close to civil war when Father Matthew Reilly had been forced to stamp his authority in the community.

  Vince Crockett, a retired army captain and leader of the strongest of these groups, had stepped into the main hall with five others, all of whom were armed. Guns were a part of life now, but, while it was not unusual to see guns being carried between rooms, no one walked around armed in the general living quarters, there were too many children around and it had become an unwritten rule. Most people didn’t realise what was happening at first and ignored the group as they went about their business. In fact, it wasn’t until Crockett fired a shot into the ceiling that the reality hit home. The sound of the gunfire had the desired effect and the crowd in the main hall took them very seriously indeed after that. Crockett proceeded to outline his plan for how the community should be run, and the crowd grew in a steady stream as word spread.

  Harrington arrived and, over the next hour, a debate raged between the Cave’s more vocal inhabitants. Evidently, Crockett’s group was not the only one which wanted to be part of the ruling council, and the arguments became more heated on all sides in the impromptu debate. The fact that Crockett was armed was soon forgotten as everyone dived in to debate his or her views.

  The noise level continued to rise steadily until, finally, people were shouting questions at each other across the room. No-one seemed to be prepared to listen to any of the answers that might have been offered and the scene degenerated from there.

  Then one voice rang out with such volume and authority that all the groups were shocked into silence.

  “Look at you!” Reilly had begun. He did not shout, yet his strong voice easily carried to every person in the hall. “In less than two weeks we have already turned an incredible victory into an embarrassing defeat. Who needs the vampires? We are quite capable of destroying what could be the last of humanity all by ourselves.”

  Most people suddenly found the floor to be of extreme interest as Reilly’s words penetrated the fog of hatred. Few could find it in themselves to look him or their colleagues in the eyes.

  “And you, Vincent Crockett, what are you going to do with those?” Reilly waved contemptuously at the weapons. “We have one chance left. Are we going to squander it on petty jealousy and power plays, or are we going to prove that we’re worthy of that chance? God gave you all two ears and one mouth. Use them in that proportion. You know where to find me when you decide.”

  With that Father Reilly simply turned and walked out of the hall. The auditorium was deathly quiet. After a while the debate resumed tentatively. Crockett and his group laid down their weapons. Each side spoke in turn and began to listen to the other’s views being expressed. From that debate had emerged this new committee that more fully represented the many viewpoints within their little community. It wasn’t perfect but at least it was a start.

  The present conversations wound down and Harris” quiet reflections ended when Dan Harrington rose and called the day’s meeting to order.

  “Friends,” he began, “we have much to discuss, so let’s get down to it. It’s been two weeks since the raid. Peter, can you fill us in on what’s been happening topside?”

  Harris had been voted unanimously to head up external excursions because of the success of his previous outings. He felt a little nervous now that he had to speak with so many new faces around the table. There were so many of these people that he didn’t know. He wasn’t certain who could be counted on for support and who he would have to be careful of. Were there still personal agendas being played out in this committee or was everyone prepared to work together for the greater good? He would have to feel his way and hope for the best. He sighed, took a deep breath and began.

  “Patrols have been pretty constant over the last few days. Thralls search during the day and vampires by night. They’re throwing everything they have at it, blanketing whole sectors and searching everywhere. They have already searched this area twice so there is no guarantee that they won’t be back but it looks as though the decision to stay out of the floors above was a good one,” he nodded towards Vince Crockett who had insisted on that point. “One good thing, though, there does seem to be a window--we can move about during the two-hour period each side of dawn. The vampires tend to stay near their nests after five or so in case they get delayed and the dawn comes early. The thralls start to become sloppy as their shifts come to an end and the vampires bed down for the day.” Harris laughed, “It seems their commitment to their jobs only lasts as long as the vampires are around and they tend to disappear as well right after dawn. Some of them remain on patrol of course, just in case, but it’s a skeleton cover. Bottom line is that if we have to go out in force and get back undetected, then we can, as long as we stick to the timetable.”

  “Thank you, Peter.” Harrington looked over to Lucy Irvine. “Lucy, can you give us the state of the nation please?”

  Lucy Irvine remained seated. Harris had always considered her a shy woman with people but had come to realise, as had many others, that, where business was concerned, she took things very seriously indeed and had no problems defending her views. Her obvious flair for organisation and administration had made her the perfect choice for quartermaster and she ruled the allocation of supplies with a firm, but fair, hand. She fidgeted with a few files before her and then took a deep breath before she began.

  “It’s not that good, actually. We now have one hundred and eighty three people in the facility and have supplies for another two days.”

  “But I thought we had stocked up with enough food when...” John Kelly began to rise as he spoke.

  “Mr. Kelly!” she snapped. “Would you please sit down and let me finish?”

  The authority and force with which Lucy Irvine spoke surprised everyone in the room, and Kelly plopped back into his seat under her withering glare.

  “As I was about to say,” she continued, “We stored the stockpiled supplies in lab three on the second sub level. At that time the room’s temperature had been just above freezing and seemed to
be perfect for storage. Unfortunately, the room is next door to the generator and when we turned it on, the motor heated the walls and all the supplies stacked against the other side of the wall spoiled.”

  A low moan rippled around the table.

  “I should have seen it,” she continued over the murmur, “but I’m afraid that’s what happens when we have so many new departments working in isolation and haven’t yet perfected how we should co-ordinate everything so this type of thing doesn’t happen.” Lucy Irvine had been reluctant to expand the committee but had bowed to the pressure of the majority when it had been voted upon. Harris could see that she was only a heartbeat away from an “I told you so” and admired her restraint in settling for such an innocuous statement.

  Dan Harrington began to say something conciliatory but she ignored him and pressed on. “What’s done is done but that’s not the worst of it. I’m afraid we have another problem. Two of the children have picked up an infection of some sort and their temperatures are dangerously high. Jill Ahern, most of you know her,” heads nodded around the table and but Lucy wasn’t asking anyone, she was merely stating a fact and she continued, “says that normally this could be treated easily with the correct medicines, but, in their absence, the infection could well prove fatal to the younger children. In such closed quarters, the chance that others have already contracted the same virus is high. We could be facing an epidemic. Obviously this will mean that we will have to avail ourselves of this window that Mister Harris was speaking of.” She finished quite abruptly with a glare around the table as if daring anyone to disagree with her.

  The assembly was shocked. No one spoke for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, Dan Harrington rose.

  “Well, the words “shit creek” and “paddle” come to mind.” People laughed at his quip, a pressure valve that relieved the tension but it was half-hearted at best. There was no denying the pall of depression that had suddenly descended over the room. “Captain,” Harrington continued as he looked towards Vincent Crockett, “could you fill us in on how things are going on the home front?”

  The appointment of Vince Crockett as Head of Defence was a surprise to many, but not to Harris. He knew how canny Harrington could be. Appointing Crockett to the committee placated the largest opposing group in the community while allowing him to keep a close eye on the man as well. To be fair, though, Crockett was doing a decent job.

  Despite his coup attempt, though he still refused to accept that it should be described as such – he thought of it more as a desperate plea, an attempt to draw attention to what he and his followers were saying, – he was one of the few people in the community with actual military experience. It would have been criminal to waste him. The man’s intolerance of those who failed to meet his high standards disturbed Harris though, especially since most of the community, himself included, fell far below those expectations.

  However, he did bring with him a wealth of knowledge and he soon had everyone in the community, including the older children, training every day to improve fitness and familiarise themselves with firearms. Up till then most of the people they had rescued had never held a firearm, let alone fired one, and their unfamiliarity could well be the difference between life and death at some point. There had been those who argued strenuously against allowing children to handle weapons but Crockett had debated with them, patiently at first and then more aggressively, that everyone had to be able to protect themselves and the community. It was a different world and it was up to everyone to contribute in any way they could. He had won his support and the weapons training had continued.

  He had also shown a flair for strategy and had set up excellent defences around their new home, something he and the original committee had completely missed. Once voted onto the committee, Crockett threw himself into his role with single-minded determination. Crockett had been a teacher before the vampires had come but had also served as a Captain in the National Guard and many used his rank to address him out of their respect for what that uniform had once meant, rather than their respect for the man himself. He was a difficult man to like as he had an abrasive personality that was not helped by his treatment of everyone as a raw recruit. He shouted at anyone; man, woman or child, who did not perform their role as expected but, in fairness, he had already had a huge impact on the community’s fitness and general readiness as a whole and Harris had revised his opinion of the man significantly since he had first met him. He had also created many particularly nasty surprises around the Cave for any attacking force.

  Glad he’s on our side, Harris thought as the Captain rose.

  “As you all know, we’re quite lucky in the location of this facility. Natural defences like the forest and the river surround us on three sides, and I have plans for a few surprises there.” Crockett grinned and Harris couldn’t help but feel sorry for anyone trying to sneak up on them from those directions. “However, we’re rather exposed at the front. I’ve had small teams work on a few defences there, but we have to scatter every time we hear a helicopter or see a land patrol.”

  “Any obvious changes to the landscape also have to be camouflaged to prevent detection from the air so, as you can imagine, work is slower than I would like. I have asked that the house proper, that is the floors above ground, remain unused. As Peter said before it’s essential that the building continues to appear abandoned when patrols come to investigate and drills should be run to keep noise to a minimum. The last time a patrol passed by there was far too much noise from certain quarters and it is a miracle they weren’t heard. Although the entrance to this underground facility is difficult to find, it would not go undetected in any concerted search.

  “I would also like more heavy weapons for the wall defences,” he continued, “but transporting them back here without leaving a trail is proving difficult, to say the least. Weapons training is progressing, but we can’t afford to use live ammunition, so how effective people will be in an actual attack is still unknown, blanks don’t really have the same shock you see. I would estimate that we have twenty people I would consider proficient in weapons. The rest are untried in a battle situation and could be beneficial or detrimental when faced with a real life-threatening situation. We won’t know until it happens I’m afraid.”

  Crockett shrugged apologetically and retook his seat.

  “Pat,” Harrington next addressed the chemist, “have you any update on the blood sample?”

  “Oh, yes, indeed,” Smith responded almost bounding to his feet in his enthusiasm. “It really is quite fascinating. I have not had much time so far, but things are proceeding quite well.” Pat Smyth was an optimist by persuasion and seemed to find something positive in almost every situation. If he had a fault though it was in appearing too positive and this invariably led to people being disappointed. He also tended to get side-tracked quite a lot while talking and many people took this to imply that he was not quite as clever as he first appeared. This was a mistake, Harris knew from his many conversations with the man. Pat Smyth had more brains in his finger then most of those around the table had in their heads. He was though, at heart, an earnest and extremely likable man and Harris had a lot of time for him.

  “The blood itself, although you can’t really call it blood as such. It’s more like a parasitic suspension actually, though suspension doesn’t really describe it …” Harris coughed gently and Pat stopped immediately as he realised he was wandering again. He nodded at Harris and returned to the point he was trying to make.

  “The, ah, cells feed off the living organisms contained in our blood, but need to do this more often as the vampire’s level of exertion increases. The two distinct cell types in the sample taken from the vampire are completely different from human cells. I cannot identify them further with the current equipment, but obviously when a human undergoes the change into a vampire it happens at a DNA level. They truly are a separate species. I must admit I have no idea how they heal so quickly, but, interestingly, adding silver nitra
te to the sample seems to hold some cells in stasis.”

  Smith noticed the questioning looks on the faces of his many of his audience.

  “Let me use an analogy,” he checked quickly over towards Harris who nodded slightly. “The silver acts like a sun cream. Although it lets fluids and some cells continue to flow, one type of cell is unable to move in the tainted suspension, similar to the way sun cream allows certain tanning rays from the sun through and blocks the harmful ones. I’m guessing that this might be the regenerative cell and that is why silver-infected wounds do not heal.

  “It puzzled me that we could shoot the creatures anywhere, including the heart, and they could regenerate, but a simple stake in the heart reduced them to goo. As an aside, the complete and amazingly fast breakdown of their bodies when they are staked happens because these cells I mentioned earlier, as well as being completely rewritten from the original human cells, also work at a hugely accelerated rate. This speed explains how they can heal so quickly--and why they break down so quickly.

  “Anyway!” Smith paused briefly for a quick breath and continued again at his frantic pace. Harris could see some glazed expressions around the table but most were keeping up so he remained quiet.

  “I decided to investigate what was so different about wood. For years “Old World” cooks have maintained that the best platform for preparing raw food on is wood. I haven’t had time to investigate this in depth, but wood--once you clean it of course--seems to have natural oils that ensure germs do not survive on its surface. I think this might explain why wood is so deadly to these creatures. The oil reacts against their accelerated systems.”