Nighter

by Magdalena Kozak

  He stole a glance around to his friends. They sat in chairs and inhaled their red treasure, just like him. Their faces didn’t express any emotions, but Vesper felt the tension filling the hall perfectly. Irritation crouched behind each gesture, and each grunt was charged with aggression. The hunger grew mercilessly, and its symptoms grew at an avalanche’s tempo.

  Vesper glanced at the door leading to the human part of the base, currently locked shut. Non-nighters were forbidden to show up here without an important reason. For their own safety, as was briefly stated.

  Also for safety reasons, only the oldest nighters went out on patrols. The younger ones stayed at the base, taking care of less important tasks, which heavily consisted of filling paperwork. Nobody dared to say aloud that they don’t leave because they could be tempted to hunt. Such a possibility didn’t officially exist. None of the nighters has ever betrayed, and that was the end of story. But for now, the younger ones didn’t patrol outside, as Lord Ultor’s orders stated without giving any reasons.

  Vesper stared out of the window. Crowds of ‘legal’ vampires were becoming more ravenous, no less than the nighters. The last of the reserves would disappear at any moment... and then the hunger would reign, and the hunt would begin. The renegades would welcome newcomers gladly, and there would be a total revolution.

  My lord, Vesper thought at Ultor. If you don’t do something, and quick, it will get nasty. But you know that already.

  Ultor entered the hall, as if called by those thoughts. He looked over the nighters with a bright face. They answered him with hopeful stares. Had he come with that long-awaited and desired news?

  “Well, gents,” Lord Ultor said in a warm voice, so far from his usual, solemn tone. “Get ready, we’re going to get some food.”

  They picked themselves up instantly, their eyes burning with exultation. So it was happening. At last.

  “Briefing is in fifteen minutes, here in the hall,” Ultor commanded. “I want to see all of you in full battle gear. Go!”

  The nighters lunged for the door with undeniable animation. The recent heaviness and apathy disappeared within a blink of an eye. They poured out of the hall in a black stream.

  Vesper stopped at the threshold and glanced at Nidor, who still stood over the cardboard box. They exchanged happy glances, and he turned back to run to his room, feeling his thoughts pulsating with hopeful relief.

  ***

  Sun was rising over Chrcynno Airport, leaving trails of fog on the fields. Vesper and Nidor walked slowly along the grassy takeoff strip, glancing around carefully, with their hands on their HK G36 machine gun butts. But so far, nothing had happened. Nothing at all.

  They reached the road at last, and stopped by the hangar. They had worked their butts off through the night, removing motorized hang gliders from it and replacing them with their vans. Luckily, the parachute section’s director was very cooperative. At his request, members of Warsaw’s Aero Club helped them without asking unnecessary questions. Either way, Chrcynno Airport was one of the strategic defense points in the country, so cooperation with Special Forces was written into its existence. The nighters looked up at the sun rising lazily above the nearby forest. Another July day was waking up. Just a little longer, and it would get very... hot.

  Vesper squinted his eyes, trying to find the sniper lookout teams camouflaged in the grass. Despite knowing exactly where his colleagues were, he didn’t notice a single one of them. He nodded with approval, and glanced at Nidor. Perfect time for a conversation, a thought fluttered.

  “They still don’t trust us, what d’you think?” he said in a quiet tone. “Hmm?”

  “Why do you think so?” he asked simply.

  The lieutenant shrugged.

  “We’re watching some third-class airport near Warsaw,” he said irritably. “Not even an airport, but an area accommodated for takeoffs and landings. In my opinion, we’re here as bait, just so the renegades have too many places to watch. To keep them from focusing well on the proper target. So we got a mission we can’t fuck up, even if we wanted to. We’re on the back-burner, and that’s all there is to it.” A sliver of reluctance ran across his face.

  “You’re not necessarily right,” Nidor said calmly. “You don’t know the lord’s plan; you don’t know how he plans to swing all this blood over. And very well, too... the more something is unclear, the less chances the renegades have.”

  Vesper stuck his hands in his pockets, and ran his foot over the gravel. Small rocks burst from under his boot and rolled to the sides. The nighter stared at the ground mindlessly. His stomach growled, loud and painfully.

  “Listen, let’s be honest here,” he growled, more irritated than before. “No larger plane will land here, so we can forget about any serious delivery. I think only three airports are possible: Okęcie—and not the civilian airport, the military one—and Modlin, and maybe Mińsk Mazowiecki, the 23rd Tactical Air Base. We’re here in Chrcynno as a diversion. And you know very well where Alacer went. Where, hmmm?”

  Nidor turned his head away and stared at the parachute barrack hidden among the trees. He struggled with the answer for a moment.

  “Modlin,” he said finally, clearly struggling to stay calm. “And the major is at Okecie.”

  “So do you have any more questions?” Vesper spat on the ground angrily. “And who’s on top now?”

  “Listen, man, don’t wind yourself up,” the captain said quite rapidly. “You know we have to be damn careful this time. Each facility could turn out to be equally important in the final matchup. The renegades don’t have as hard of a mission as it would seem. They know a delivery is expected, and it’s very possible that they know its exact time and date...” Vesper looked at him clearly startled, but he didn’t ask the obvious question struggling to come out of his lips.

  “We have to be legal, damn it!” Nidor gasped angrily. “We have to order that blood from the factory or storage, keeping up with all the procedures, signatures, and stamps. It would be naive to count on the renegades not breaking into the database to find a large order, a rush one, such and such client, this and that date of fulfilment...”

  “So we’re screwed,” Vesper grimly, angry that such an obvious possibility hadn’t come to him. Hunger, nothing else. Hunger was addling his brains. “You’re right though.”

  “So the only thing we can do is to confuse the trail,” the captain continued. “Lord Ultor wouldn’t send the cargo to Okęcie, for sure. Have you seen their security? It’s a joke. Two renegades could stand behind the chain-link, with some surface-to-air missile, let’s say a Striela-2. They’d wait until the plane comes to land, and boom, thank you, the transport’s gone.”

  “What about counter-intelligence?” the younger nighter asked quickly. “We could put the rest of ISA to work, let the guys work for us a little bit. Let them hang around the airport for a little, check if there are any suspicious vans...”

  “And walk into renegades,” his friend interrupted. “And what if there was a massacre, and the operationals reported everything they saw in detail. At least for now, the renegades don’t let humans see them. They hunt discreetly, don’t leave any evidence... they’re very clever, they don’t want too many enemies at a time. But if anything happened, they would fight without a pardon, and we might not be around. We wouldn’t be able to hide the situation, and everything would spill too early. We can’t afford a risk like that.”

  “Right...” Vesper sighed heavily. “Right.”

  “So the plane will probably change course at the last minute,” Nidor continued seriously. “Which doesn’t take care of the situation completely either. It would be child’s play to listen to Okęcie’s control tower, and the renegades would know right away where it would land.”

  “But they can’t watch all the airports,” the nighter protested. “I don’t think they have enough... personnel.” He had nearly said “people”, but changed the word at the last second.

  The captain nodded.

>   “And they also have to take into account that the lord will change the place for a smaller one, just before the takeoff, one that could land in Chrcynno,” he said. “Or at several smaller airports at the same time.”

  A smile brightened Vesper’s face.

  “Yeah, definitely,” he said, much more cheerfully. “So maybe even we’ll get some of it.”

  “It’s not that easy to get a rocket launcher,” Nidor added. “It would be more likely that they would hide away by the road with grenade launcher...”

  “Right, the major said so in the briefing. That’s why we have to floor it if anything happens,” the young nighter recalled. “A fast-moving vehicle is not an easy target, even if they waited for us somewhere.”

  “And they can’t watch all the roads,” the captain added. “It’s just a matter of luck.”

  “Let’s just hope it’s on our side this time,” Vesper stated. “We could definitely use a little success.”

  “Don’t say anything,” Nidor pointed to the hangar’s entrance with a wave. “You might jinx it. Come, we’ll switch with the guys, let them straighten their bones out. Especially the recruit, because he’s getting moody again. I wish the lord decided already whether we’re taking him or not... but no matter. Come on.”

  “Yes, sir!” the young nighter saluted and followed his superior immediately.

  ***

  The AN-28 descended, approaching landing. Vesper stood in the hangar’s door and stared at the machine tensely, his fingers tight on his G36. Acies and Fulgur, standing right next to him, also swept the airport’s two hundred fifty acres carefully. The rest of the nighters spilled around, securing the area.

  “Baro One, Baro Two. To the vehicles!” Nidor ordered decisively, walking out to meet the plane. “Move!”

  The teams moved to the vans. Vesper jumped into the first one, and glanced at Acies in the driver’s seat. He nodded at the preatorian, and gave him a thumbs up. The other responded with the same gesture, then lowered his hand and started the engine. The other van buzzed with a deep growl behind them; it was Fulgur, who had started the engine as well. They waited for a moment, listening for further instructions.

  “Baro One, Baro Two. Move!” Nidor’s voice filled the earpieces.

  They confirmed the order and rolled out of the hangar carefully, glancing around. The plane was nearly on the ground, so they sped up and rushed to meet it. They had just reached it when it came to a full stop, and the blades revolved in slow, lazy motions. The pilots didn’t turn the engine off, just opened the back hatch. Men wearing nighter field uniforms spilled out from the plane. The silver moon on their shoulders was paired with a black, red, and yellow flag.

  “Transport from Berlin,” Vesper understood immediately. “And those are our colleagues from Bundesamt fur Verfassungsschutz...” he watched the German nighters with curiosity, then he remembered himself and swept the row of alders separating the airport from Nasielsk Road. All clear, no renegades.

  Nidor climbed aboard the plane, probably to talk with the pilots. In the meantime, Polish and German nighters mixed together, transferring the load from the plane to the vans. So far, the mission had gone swiftly and efficiently.

  The captain reappeared after a moment, and jumped down from the ramp. He nodded with approval, seeing the shipment had already disappeared inside the vehicles, and the nighters were closing and sealing the doors. He waited for them to finish and disperse: Germans to the planes, Poles toward the barrack. Then he ran to the second van, driven by Fulgur. He jumped into the passenger seat.

  “Baro One, Baro Two. Move out!” he ordered clearly.

  “Baro Two, moving,” Acies confirmed instantly, flooring the gas pedal.

  The vehicle’s engine roared, and it lunged forward, its tires ripping bits of grass out. It made a small circle, and moved toward the sandy path connecting the hangar with the road. He drove onto it, and then the black BMWs parked at the barracks joined it. The sirens sounded, and the lights installed on the roof flashed. The first convoy drove out on the Nasielsk Road, turned left, and the other one appeared just behind it.

  They separated at the turn. Nidor and his unit drove straight toward Pultusk. Acies, and Vesper with him, took a slight turn to the right, driving toward the Debno Dam. Behind them, the AN-28 took off.

  ***

  Acies was an excellent driver.

  Vesper had got used to Nidor’s insane driving habits by now. Passing other cars at a millimeter distance, assisted by telekinesis, didn’t impress him much anymore. But what the praetorian showed on Road 621 woke the most honest admiration in the young nighter.

  The narrow road, full of potholes, and full of bikers and tractors despite the early hour, was nearly a racetrack for Acies. He had no problem going 140 miles per hour, while their colleagues in beemers barely had time to maneuver in order to stay at an appropriate distance.

  If it all continued this way, we’ll be at Crumbly’s in forty minutes, Vesper thought with relief, still observing the area carefully. And there... they could start eating, even if it had to be discreet. According to plan, part of the delivery—transported by Nidor’s team—was supposed to get to base in Emów. Acies, however, was supposed to deliver his load to ATOM, where the police had agreed to store it for some time, per an inter-institution agreement. Vesper recalled Crumbly’s fully-disapproving expression when he’d found out about it. Undoubtedly he was the only one in his unit who had any idea what the load’s content was and its purpose.

  But he kept the word he’d given the lords. Despite clearly mixed feelings tumbling within him, he tried to be as helpful as possible. But he was definitely not happy about it, and he had no scruples showing it off to the nighters.

  He’ll get used to it, Vesper thought. Sooner or later he’d understand our and his situation. He’ll get used to it.

  He nodded, then focused on the road again, holding his G36 tightly in his arms, and glancing around attentively. The trees fell behind, as if scared of the van engine’s roar. Acies rushed on swiftly, efficiently, and relentlessly. So far, nobody had tried to interrupt them. Maybe the renegades were more set on Modlin or Okęcie.

  The nighters drove over the Dębno Dam, squinting their eyes to protect them from the sun glaring off Zegrzynski Lagoon. But they didn’t slow down one bit. The cars drove on, down the road gently twisting among trees.

  Suddenly, a giant semi appeared from beyond the bend, driving straight at them through the center of the road. The time sped up.

  The driver of the first BMW strayed to the right, and Vesper could nearly feel the nighters inside concentrate on mentally pushing the vehicle away. At the same moment, Acies turned left onto the shoulder. The truck hit the BMW with a full impact, swallowing it nearly whole. The machines joined in one, forward flying, a shiny heap of scrap turning sideways on the road, blocking its whole width.

  Acies managed to get off the road, and the van rolled along the narrow shoulder, slowing down and slipping in the sand. Vesper stared tensely at the narrow pass they had left between the semi’s back and the first pines of the forest stretching along the road. They had a chance... if Acies could keep the control on that surface, they had a chance.

  The semi’s back missed them by inches.

  Vesper took a relieved breath, and glanced at his colleague with admiration. Great job, Acies, just great.

  And then a sudden jerk swung the van as if it were a child’s plastic car. The air was ripped by a loud explosion, then another... and the vehicle fell on its right side and began to slide on the ground with a terrible screech. Vesper and Acies hung limply, locked in their seats, staring astonished at how the pines get closer to them in a split second. They tried to push them away with a mute, throaty scream. But the trees ripped into them with the sound of crunched metal. Another jerk threw the passengers against the seats... and then a sudden darkness fell, where there was nothing more.

  ***

  Vesper blinked, the world blurred away and came back
into focus extremely slowly. The cabin was filled with thickening black smoke. He started coughing, choking on the blood filling his mouth. He pulled his G36, but it didn’t help, it was stuck somewhere in the twisted door under the airbag. He straightened his fingers with difficulty, letting go of the weapon. He ran his right hand over his body, searching for a knife.

  His moves became unbelievably slow, like in some kind of nightmare. He pulled his hand up, and it seemed to him that years passed before he was able to move it a few inches up. The smoke filled the cabin tighter and the heat grew, flames hissed somewhere in the back.

  And he suddenly trembled in an overwhelming panic. He would burn here; he would burn alive. Even as a vampire, he wasn’t resistant to that.

  He let out a loud scream, and swung his legs, still laying on his side. It was the stupidest thing he could have done, as the seatbelt pinned him even tighter. He looked up in a panic. He spied Acies’ white, motionless face through the smoke. The praetorian was still buckled in. That was the only reason he hadn’t fallen on Vesper yet. Luckily.

  Calm, calm down, man, he thought with effort. Slowly.

  He finally found the knife and pulled it out. He felt the seatbelt with his hands and cut through it, then fell on his side limply.

  And he nearly stuck himself with his own blade at that.

  He rolled onto his back. Then he studied the windshield, still in one piece despite a web of cracks. Right, bulletproof, he remembered with fear. So he couldn’t get out that way, not a chance.

  The flames reached the cabin, and began to lick the headrests. Vesper tried to turn so he could push himself off with his legs, but he wasn’t able to manage it. So he grabbed the driver’s side burning headrest and pulled himself up determinedly, using it as leverage. Suddenly, the world around sped up, like in an old, pre-war-era movie. All points of support were good enough as long as he climbed up, just up. The flames raged around, greedily engulfing the praetorian’s head, slithering onto the nighter’s clothes. Vesper finally found support for his feet, and squeezed beside Acies, praying in his soul for the driver’s door not to be blocked...