by Derek Gunn
The General eased the man off his shoulder and allowed the humans to take him inside.
“Why?” Sandra asked.
“There’s been enough senseless killing, don’t you think?”
Sandra Harrington nodded and went to close the door.
“Good luck,” the stranger added.
“Thank you,” she replied and then the door closed.
“Lieutenant, we have him,” the sergeant reported happily when his men dragged the General before their new commander.
“Excellent,” the Lieutenant replied “What about the humans?”
“We’ve cleared the house, about twenty dead, and the rest escaped into a hidden doorway. We are setting explosives now to gain entry.”
“And our own losses?”
“Um, sir, we haven’t had time to ascertain the full…”
“That many, Sergeant? No matter, you have done well.” He looked up at the sound of wings in the night and saw three vampires peel off from the swarm and approach them while the rest continued on to the house.
“Bring the traitor here,” he ordered and the thralls threw the General to the ground at his feet. He smiled evilly and spat at Evans while the figure struggled to his feet.
“I hope the master lets me deal with you personally,” he gloated.
“I doubt we’ll get that far,” Evans replied and produced a grenade hidden in his sock. The Lieutenant’s face went ashen when he saw Evans pull the pin and jump at him. The three vampires arrived and began to metamorphose.
The Lieutenant screamed and felt Evans clamp his hand around his neck and saw him look deep into his eyes. “Join me in Hell,” he stated and then the grenade exploded.
The three vampires were caught by the blast, but it wasn’t nearly enough to kill any of them. They reeled from the shock when shrapnel tore into their bodies and caused intense pain, but they recovered quickly and set upon the only mortals left.
“What is going on here?” Nero demanded and the Sergeant cowered beneath his baleful glare.
“Father, they’re getting closer,” Dan Harrington screamed as he glanced down at the priest.
“Nearly finished,” Reilly muttered distractedly. He finished the blessing by making the sign of the cross over the well with some chrism. The cool water rippled when the priest sprayed the small vial across its surface. The well was situated at the bottom of the tower, leading some of the residents to speculate that the whole tower was there purely to collect rainwater and ensure a supply for cave residents.
“Father!” Harrington shouted again. His voice climbed several octaves while he watched the swarm of vampires begin their descent.
“Okay, we’re done,” Reilly shouted back. He pulled the cord on the motor that sat beside the well. The motor roared to life, then spluttered and died. “Shit!” Reilly blasphemed and offered a silent prayer before he pulled the cord again. This time the motor roared and then settled down to a constant hum while it sucked the water through the hose attached to it. The hose ran from the well all the way to the top where Harrington stood. Reilly watched while the hose hardened as gallons of water were forced upward.
When Harrington felt the hose straighten in his grip as it suddenly filled with water and the power threatened to rip the hose from his hands. He planted his feet solidly on the ground and put all his strength into holding the hose steady. Once the initial violence of the water filling the empty hose had abated somewhat he reached forward and opened the valve. Water shot out of the nozzle at tremendous force and arched out from the tower into the night air. The tower, while connected to the house, was not actually accessible from the dwelling. The only way in was through the Cave. On the outside it resembled a small circular turret that reached to the same height as the chimney.
Harrington had no idea what its planned use was, but was happy it was here. He shifted his feet slightly as he struggled to control the hose and direct it towards the approaching vampires.
“Father,” he shouted through gritted teeth, “this thing is bucking like a son of a bitch!”
Father Reilly climbed the narrow steps as quickly as he could to help. Together, the two men slowly regained control over the flailing hose and directed the water at the vampires.
“I hope this works,” Harrington shouted over the thunderous noise.
“So do I,” said Reilly and he held grimly on.
The water shot out into the night and struck the lead vampire with full force. The power sent it reeling back through the swarm. Harrington could see shock register on the creature’s face when it looked down at its chest. Gaping holes appeared where the water had hit the creature, and flesh melted away from bone. The creature opened its mouth to scream, but water had splashed onto its throat and destroyed the flesh there. The Vampire fell to the ground in silence.
Harrington grinned while he directed the stream of water from side to side, searing flesh from bone on contact.
Vampires started to fall from the sky; their bodies burned to an unrecognisable mess of bone and withered flesh. The first wave of vampires faltered as those at the back reacted. Bodies veered wildly to avoid the deadly stream.
Vampires crashed into each other in their panic. Their wickedly sharp talons raked deep furrows into each other, while water burned through wings and sent them spiralling to the ground.
Harrington and Reilly whooped for joy as the attack faltered and then broke completely apart.
“Not so tough now are you, motherfuckers?” Harrington shouted, and then sheepishly looked at Reilly. “Sorry, Father.”
The priest grinned and was about to reply when suddenly, the hose went limp and the water ran out.
Chapter 28
Nero grew angry watching the mayhem. Already six vampires lay dead; their bodies still smouldering from the holy water. Five more lay on the ground holding stumps of arms or legs. They screamed piteously. In all his years as a vampire he had never seen another of his kind scream like that. There was little blood because the water had cauterised the wounds on contact, but it still ate into the flesh that remained like acid. The remaining vampires began to land before him and transform. Flesh rippling over bone as their bat-like features moulded back to human.
“What are you doing back here?” he screamed at them. “You are Vampires, Lords of this earth. Get back up there or I’ll destroy you myself!”
The Vampires hesitated, looked from Nero to the house and back again, as if weighing up which they feared most. It wasn’t until they noticed that the thunderous sound of the water cannon had stopped that they seemed to be able to choose.
“They’ve run out.” Nero smiled evilly. “Come, follow me. I’ll show you what it is to be a Vampire.”
With that Nero transformed and launched himself into the air and the remaining swarm followed.
The corridor between the living quarters and the main entrance was a hive of activity. People formed a line and carried tables, chairs, desks and anything else they could find to build a barricade between themselves and the door. The barrier reached almost to the ceiling and stretched at least ten feet in width across the full length of the corridor.
“Come on, people, let’s move it; they’ll be here soon!” Harris shouted from halfway up the rampart. His voice echoed loudly in the confined space.
“Do you think we can hold them?”
Harris looked down at Sandra Harrington’s upturned face. Her eyes, the clearest blue he had ever seen, shone brightly against the background of her dust-encrusted face.
“I really don’t know,” he sighed. “It depends on how many there are.”
Just then Dan Harrington and Father Reilly arrived, both red-faced from the exertion.
“How did it go?” Harris asked.
“We stopped the first wave, but they’ve already regrouped.” Harrington panted between breaths. “Worked like a charm while it lasted, but I never thought all that water would disappear so quickly. How are we fixed here?”
“We’re abou
t as ready as we can be. I’ve set up as many men as I could get behind the barricade with Pat’s special ammunition. We still don’t know if it’ll work but it’s all we’ve got. Father Reilly,” Harris addressed the priest, “we’ve got to get the women and children back to--”
“Sorry, Harris,” Reilly interrupted, “you’ll have to get someone else. These bastards are about to get their first taste of the wrath of God. I’m staying here.” The last words were spoken as the priest lifted a machine gun in his hands and slammed the magazine home. He pulled on the breech, loaded the first round and looked at the others as if daring them to deny him.
Harris gaped at the priest, unsure if he was more surprised at his language or the fact that he looked very comfortable with that weapon. Harris relented with a sigh and looked hopefully at Sandra Harrington.
“Don’t even think about it, Peter Harris,” she warned. “I’m not being left behind again. This time I’m not leaving your side.”
Harris grinned at the look of determination in her face and knew that facing the vampires would be easier than arguing with her.
“All right, but we--”
A heavy boom came from the door. The noise reverberated around the enclosed area and everyone stopped to stare at the door. The door itself was metal, a full seven inches thick and capable of surviving all but a direct hit from a nuclear warhead. Unfortunately, no one had included vampires in the original specifications and the metal was already buckling after the first blow.
“All right, everybody get ready!” Harris shouted and people ran to their positions. “McNamara,” the man jumped at the sound of his name. “Get back to the others and help them get out safely!” His face grew serious. “You do realise how important this is, don’t you?”
McNamara nodded and sprinted off down the corridor. The air filled with the sound of magazines clicking home and breeches being pulled. Then silence reigned. Except for the pounding.
“Hurry up!” Nero screamed at the vampires.
There was room for only three vampires at once at the metal door. Those three had morphed to the fullest, most powerful form they could manage. Only the eldest of the vampires could manage this kind of control, those that had lived at least two hundred years, and Nero had ordered his most trusted lieutenants to the chore.
He smiled and looked upon the three creatures. They each had assumed forms that borrowed heavily from ancient mythology, with an emphasis on power. The first creature, Pollock, had taken the form of a Minotaur and grown to a height of some ten feet. His massive back rippled with muscles as he raised his fists and brought them crashing down against the metal. The second vampire, Narcissus, had sprouted two extra arms and extended its body outward to increase it’s mass and so maximise its centre of balance. The result allowed the creature to strike the doors with all four appendages and hammer in a constant windmill motion.
The third lieutenant, Thiebes, took a hellish form like nothing even Nero had ever seen. Sticky ochre, the colour of congealed blood, covered its body. Its face was stretched impossibly over a cavern of wickedly sharp teeth. Its red eyes were set deep into its angular head. The creature pivoted back on its short arms and brought its massive legs crashing into the door in a seesaw motion.
The concentration and energy needed to assume and retain these forms was phenomenal. All three would need to feed immediately after they broke through. Indeed, they would need to gorge on the humans to recover from such exertions.
Still, thought Nero, there’s plenty to go around.
The noise was unbearable. The constant hammering made everyone flinch with each impact. Harris looked over at Rodgers and Reiss, both men injured with their legs in bandages, but adamant that they would not slow down the escape party. Rodgers caught Harris’ss eye and winked, a stupid, wide grin transforming his features for a few seconds before grim determination took its place. Harris smiled in acknowledgement and shook his head.
Things just wouldn’t be the same without him, Harris thought.
Reiss lay propped against the far wall, his leg heavily bandaged. Four machine guns lay against the wall beside him, and a pile of magazines sprawled on the floor in easy reach.
Dan Harrington and Father Reilly crouched together to his left, and just past them Harris could see Pat Smith, the portly, bald-headed chemist upon whose “magic” bullets all their lives depended. Smith must have sensed Harris” gaze as he glanced over and nodded towards him, attempting a smile but his nervousness got the better of him and the smile fell from his lips.
He felt a hand touch his own and broke the gaze to look at Sandra Harrington and smile. She smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked tired and frightened. He took her hand in both of his and squeezed gently, and then looked along the line at the forty or so men and women. A deep pride swelled in him. No one here had chosen this path, but each and every one of these people was prepared to die to try and give the others the time to escape through the water tower.
While the vampires” attention was centred on the main entrance of the Cave, the rest of the community would make their way through the water tower and out into the forest beyond. They didn’t worry about the vampires trying to use that entrance as they had left just enough water in the bottom of the tanks to make any assault impossible for the creatures, even if they found it.
Harris looked at his watch.
Another ten minutes and they’ll be clear, he thought.
Only Father Reilly and himself knew about their final, desperate gambit now that Crockett was dead. The knowledge weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had sought and received absolution from Father Reilly earlier, and now kept checking his waist for the small metal box secreted on his belt.
All along the line men and women dried their sweating hands against trousers and occasionally shifted position when muscles cramped. Each person’s attention was riveted on the metal door.
The pounding continued.
The metal finally split with an ear shattering crash. A tear appeared almost perfectly down the centre. The remains of the door flew to either side and the entire corridor shook when the heavy doors crashed against the walls. People swallowed on dry throats; knuckles went white as they gripped their weapons tighter. From the faint mist of dust and destruction emerged three visions from hell that pushed through the smoke and approached the humans. The barricade had looked strong and unassailable just minutes before, but when Harris looked up at these creatures it now seemed woefully inadequate.
“Steady!” he heard himself croak and he gripped Sandra Harrington’s hand tighter. His legs felt less than steady as the creatures thundered closer.
“Steady!” he called again and then, just as the creatures came in line with a mark on the wall, his arm flashed down.
“Now!” he shouted.
Chapter 29
Rodgers heard Harris shout and swung his axe against the tail end of the rope held taut to a metal clasp in the wall. The rope was thick and tied securely to ensure it could hold the enormous weight of their last surprise. The rope snaked up the wall, held in place with tacks, until it reached a metal ring set into the ceiling. Attached to this was a hook that held a very large wooden frame in place, flush with the ceiling. The frame stretched across the entire corridor and, before it had been tied in position, had reached down to about three inches from the ground.
The frame had multiple spikes carved into the wood and their points were wickedly sharp. This gambit had worked well in the forest and Rodgers hoped to God that it would stop the three creatures advancing on them now. Fear rose like bile in his throat and he hacked repeatedly at the rope. Sweat seeped into his eyes. He missed a few times and took chunks out of the wall beside him.
Sweat rolled down Harris” back as he watched the creatures get closer. His eyes moved frantically between Rodgers and the creatures like some demented tennis match, and he willed the rope to break. The lead creature, some form of Minotaur, had the longest legs of the three. It cleared
the smoke, seemed to notice Rodgers, and stopped suddenly. The other two quickly caught up.
The creature known as Pollock thundered down the corridor in triumph. The energy it had exerted from destroying the door and retaining its form had worked up an appetite that gnawed at him. The hunger, like a physical pain deep in his stomach, was to be savoured; its massive jaws dripped saliva as he anticipated the slaughter to come.
Pollock looked down at the humans crouched in fear behind a pitiful barricade and laughed at their stupidity. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a human to the side of the others frantically strike the wall and he slowed, well aware of how tricky these humans could be.
Fear engulfed Harris when he watched the creature trace the line of rope and then register a change on his face. Harris couldn’t read the features, but he reckoned that the creature had worked out what was about to happen. The creature turned to shout a warning, but in the same moment the rope finally separated and Harris heard a whoop of delight from Rodgers.
Freed of the rope, the hook slid easily from the clasp in the ceiling and the frame began its downward descent.
The other vampires held back to allow the three lieutenants the first blood. The air was charged with the expectant carnage that was sure to follow. Nero watched his lieutenants approach the barricade.
Finally, this annoying resistance comes to an end, he thought. His eyes glowed with anticipation. The rest of his brood waited impatiently at the entrance, like puppies straining against a lead. Nero held them back with a glowering look; he wanted to savour this victory. The vampires were impatient, but held their positions reluctantly, each one raising their heads and sniffing the air. The stench of fear was rank in the enclosed area and Nero knew that even his iron will could not hold them once the carnage began and the blood scent reached them. At that stage, though, there would be plenty for all.