She looked across at Simon once more. He was on his mobile, pacing behind his desk. Clearly, he was permitted to use his phone. He saw her watching him. She looked away, but not before noticing his expression. Excitement, not far off delight, but tinged with something else. Fear? She turned her back to him.
About to shut down her computer to go home, Emily noticed a message alert flashing at her. She hesitated. Did she really want to know? With a sigh, she opened it. What she read there, made her sink back into her seat.
It was from Bernstein, stating that a complete retraction of the announcement of the vampire ban would be added to the Net edition within the next ten minutes. It further added that, as there had never been any intention from any of the listed clubs to enforce a total ban, the paper would also be posting an apology.
It had all been for nothing. How could Simon have got it so wrong? Unless… She closed her mind to that thought. Bernstein would never have let Simon use the paper to cause trouble …would he?
Enough was enough. She shut the computer down. She wasn’t going to wait for Amanda; she could just read the handover notes. Emily looked around the office.
Amid the preparations for handover, there were places where people had gravitated, by the printers, the shredder. All looked serious, all tense, all expectant somehow. Should she join one, see what they were talking about? No. Whatever it was they were discussing, was probably rumour, office gossip, nothing that she needed to be interested in. Getting out of here was her top priority.
Emily heard shouting as soon as she got to the stairwell. Angry shouting. Jeering. Coming from outside. Her way was blocked by a crowd of people coming back up the stairs.
‘You won’t get out that way,’ someone said as she stood at the top.
‘What’s going on?’ Emily asked, eyes still on those coming back up again.
‘We’re blocked in. Vamps. Hundreds of them outside. Shouting about the ban.’
Then the man was past her and she was the only still island in the tide around her.
There were about a dozen people standing by the doors on the ground floor. Emily managed to move halfway down the stairs. The shouts from behind her told her they were trapped; the only back entrance to the building was now blocked off too. Simon was at the front doors.
He turned and saw her.
‘Emily, get back upstairs now.’
She didn’t move. All she could see was a mass of bodies. No faces. All the same. All in black. All with their faces covered in some way. Masks, hoods, many dressed the way that RAGE had been in that first riot that seemed so long ago now.
‘Emily, go. It’s too dangerous here.’
As if to punctuate Simon’s words, there was a crash. A brick smashed through one of the window panels to the side of the door. She watched it clatter to the floor. Heard the cheers of the outsiders intensify. Took a second to register blood. Blood from a cut on Simon’s forehead. From a slash across the cheek of a man standing with him. There was a flash of a camera. From inside the building. From her side.
‘Enough. Go.’ Simon urged his companions back up the stairs. He grabbed Emily’s arm and dragged her up with them.
Everyone was in the coffee room. It was two floors above the protest. A brave few were pressed against the window. Most were huddled in the middle of the room. All were scared, confused. Emily heard Simon near her, on the phone.
‘No. We need the Security Forces. Now. This is out of hand.’
He prowled off out of the room. Emily crossed to the window. The street was full of people. If there’d been music, they might have been performing a grotesque ballet; all were moving to some hidden rhythm. Simon was right. They did need the Security Forces. She could see none.
‘Right people, there’s nothing to worry about.’ Bernstein’s voice cut across the low chatter of voices in the room. ‘And you, put that phone away. The no usage policy is still in place.’
Emily turned from the window and noticed Bernstein was taking position, not in his usual space, near to where she now stood, but in the corner, by the door.
‘The Security Forces have been alerted. There’s no need to panic. We believe that this protest is in response to our published article about bans on vampires in certain clubs. You can see why we adopted such a strict communications policy today – for your own safety. On finding out that our information was incorrect, we have posted a full apology. That’s all there is to say. There’ll be no questions. You’re free to leave once the Security Forces have cleared the area.’
With that, Bernstein left the room. There was silence, then everyone seemed to be talking at once.
‘Come away from the window.’ Emily looked at Simon blankly for a second. ‘Just in case,’ Simon added.
‘You’re still bleeding,’ she said as he took her arm and led her back towards the middle of the room. Other people took her place at the window.
‘It’s nothing,’ Simon shrugged.
‘You should get it cleaned up.’
‘I will. I’ve got some more calls to make first.’ He began to walk away from her.
‘Simon?’ He halted, turned back to her. ‘Did you know? Did you have a hand in this?’
He was at her side in an instant.
‘No.’ Was his frown genuine? ‘I had nothing to do with this.’
‘What about the original article about the ban?’
‘I wrote it.’
‘But it was crap wasn’t it? All of it?’
‘You insulting my writing style?’ He tried a smile. She didn’t return it.
‘You know what I mean.’ She dropped her voice. ‘It wasn’t based on fact. There was never any truth in it.’
Simon’s shrug was nonchalant, however his voice was as low as hers. ‘I just wrote the information I was given.’
‘And who gave it you?’
Simon gave a quiet laugh. ‘You saw the message this morning. ‘A reliable source’.’
‘One of your mates at RAGE?’
Simon gave no reaction.
‘Bernstein?’ Again, he was giving nothing away.
‘Emily, I can’t tell you. I’ve got to go back to the office. I need to make these calls.’
Emily watched his departure, phone already clasped to his ear. No one around really knew what to do. Some were still at the window. They recoiled a little as there was another smash of glass from the ground floor. Would they be safe? How long would the doors hold? The building was old, the window panes small. Someone spoke up that the doors had been reinforced years ago. That was something, at least.
Twenty minutes later there was still no visible Security Forces presence.
‘Those rioters will be inside the building if no one stops them,’ muttered a colleague from layout after greeting Emily.
‘I hope not,’ she replied.
‘I wonder what’s holding them back?’
‘It’s about time the Security Forces got here,’ Emily said. ‘I want to go home.’
‘Me too, and use my phone,’ he agreed.
A couple of people had tried to make calls, others had sent messages. That had bought Bernstein back into the coffee room. No one had tried again. Emily had surreptitiously checked her mobile. She had seven missed calls from Lucas now. Was he out there, trying to get to her?
There was a swell in the noise from outside.
‘The Security Forces at last,’ said the layout man. ‘About time too.’
Someone turned from the window and said,
‘It’s not the Security Forces.’
Emily pressed forward to steal a place at the window. It certainly wasn’t the Security Forces. It was another group. Fifty or sixty strong. Emily watched, as, almost as one, they raised missiles – stones, bricks, bottles, and with a battle yell, hurled them towards the vampires. Those that were hit recoiled, halted.
‘Who are they?’ Emily couldn’t see who spoke, but could detect the fear there. This was only going to make it worse.
The
new group stood their ground as more and more vampires turned to face them. To face the chant that gave away the identity of the new arrivals.
‘Hate vampires. Vampire cull. Hate. Hate. Hate.’
‘It’s RAGE,’ someone said. And then she knew: Simon. He’d said he’d got calls to make.
Emily turned away from the window and was quickly replaced. She wandered to a spare chair at the edge of the room and sank into it. She held her head in her hands. She just wanted to get home.
‘That should help.’ Simon sat down next to her.
‘What?’
‘The troops outside.’
‘The Security Forces are here?’ she asked, raising her head.
‘No. Not yet.’
Emily shook her head. ‘How can RAGE do anything but make it worse?’
‘Freedom of speech is never a bad thing. And besides, it’ll create a diversion.’
‘You are joking?’
‘No. It’ll take those suckers away from us. Divert their attention.’
‘But people are going to get hurt.’
‘A few vamps maybe.’
There was silence for a few seconds, then Emily said,
‘I’m surprised you’re still here. Don’t you want to be in all the excitement outside?’
‘Not particularly.’ Simon hesitated, ‘I want to make sure that you’re still safe.’
‘As you can see, I’m fine. Quite clearly not going anywhere.’
‘I’m just trying to look out for you.’
‘But you’re responsible for making it all worse, don’t you see that?’
‘This isn’t all my doing, Emily. RAGE is way bigger than me. They’d have come anyway. Big gathering like this – vamps trying to call the shots against humans. That’s not right.’
Emily turned away from him.
‘I’m not getting into this with you, Simon.’
Suddenly a cheer rippled through the room, announcing that the Security Forces had arrived.
‘Let me know when we’ve got the all clear,’ Simon said as his phone began to ring and he left the room once more.
The Security Forces tactics were swift – in first moving both groups away from the Entertainment Times building and then in splitting them into smaller and smaller factions. Diluting the pack identity, the anonymity of the mob disappearing as groups split off down side streets and others were arrested. A few on both sides tried to unite the fight into one against the authorities, but it was only a half-hearted effort.
Emily was on the stairs ready to go, when Simon caught up with her. He dropped a hand onto her shoulder.
‘Emily, I thought you were going to let me know when we could leave?’
‘I didn’t say I would, you just asked me to.’
‘Hang on a minute – I’ll get my coat. I’ll see you home.’
‘No thanks.’
‘Emily – please.’
‘The Security Forces are offering escorts. There’s no need.’
‘Will you at least give me a call when you get back home?’
Emily’s only reply was raised eyebrows.
‘I guess not then,’ Simon continued. ‘A message then, I just want to know that you’re all right.’ He hesitated. ‘I… I still care about you Emily. I know you’ve moved on, and whatever I think about that, I still want to make sure you get home safely.’
‘I will.’
‘Just send me a message. Please.’
She appraised him. Again, he seemed sincere. ‘Okay. I’ll send you a message.’
‘Thanks. I think I might be here for a while yet.’
Outside was strange. Despite the Security Forces officers flanking the group that Emily was part of, despite the fact that there was no one on the streets, the air still felt charged. Knife edged. Even further away from their building, there were few on the streets.
The damage to their building had mostly been superficial. Mainly smashed windows on the ground floor. The front doors had taken a battering, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. Emily couldn’t help thinking it served Bernstein right; they’d only got what they deserved for printing lies.
As soon as she was on the tram, she called Lucas. He answered before it had even rung once.
‘Emily – are you okay? I tried to warn you. Are you still at work? Are you hurt? What happened?’
Tears pricked at her eyes and thickened her voice.
‘I’m fine. I am now anyway.’ She gathered herself, swallowed hard. Speaking to Lucas anchored her again. It wasn’t the entire world that was upside down. Lucas made it okay. ‘I’m on the tram.’
‘You’re safe?’ Lucas asked.
‘Yes. I was about to leave when it all kicked off. I’m glad I was still inside though.’
It was only as she uttered those words that the shock hit her. Imagine if she had been caught up in that… She fought to control the tremble in her hands.
‘Why didn’t you answer your phone? I’ve been trying to get hold of you all afternoon. There were messages flying round the community since about four this afternoon.’
‘Phone ban at work, courtesy of Bernstein.’
‘He can do that?’
‘Clearly. All I wanted to do was to call you.’ Her voice cracked again.
‘Emily, are you sure you’re all right?’
‘Yes. Just a bit emotional.’
‘Do you want me to come over?’ Lucas asked.
Of course she did. ‘No. You’re at work.’
‘I don’t mind. There’s a couple of things I can’t get out of, but I can come after that.’
‘Honestly. It’s not worth the risk. ‘
‘It is to me.’
Emily shut her eyes, trapped his words inside. Forced light into her voice.
‘Lucas, I’m fine. I feel much better for talking to you.’
‘I’m not convinced …’
Emily managed a laugh. ‘Why don’t you give me a call later?’
‘I will. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll be calling you in about an hour.’
‘I’ll speak to you in a bit.’
Emily settled back into her seat. The enclosed world of the tram seemed a million miles from what she’d seen tonight. Only the extra Security Forces officers betrayed the latest twist in society.
She got home, locked the door, changed out of her work clothes. She contemplated not sending Simon a message, then realised he’d probably call if she didn’t. And that was a conversation she could do without. He was, after all, just looking out for her, she supposed.
Message sent, she sat back to view the reporting of events on the NetNews. Events that she’d actually been part of. She found she couldn’t look away.
Fifty Eight
What a glorious week. Mayhem. And not totally caused by me. Was it luck or simply fate that the Entertainment Times chose to run their false news story about the club segregation? Look at the results. Violence. Arrests. Blame.
Perfect.
I think the pieces are finally clicking tight together. My work has been recognised – in its entirety. Clever little Simon Jones to thank for that. Not that I could have made it any more obvious. A neon sign might have done the trick, but… why not be generous? Allow him some limelight. After all, it’s not been a great time for him. Someone has stolen what he thought was his. Now he’s sad, heartbroken possibly, so I can afford him a share in the brilliance of the situation.
But wait… maybe you thought he was me? That he was capable of doing all I’ve done.
No. No.
I admit our views are similar in some ways. He wants the world to be different. Let’s not forget, I’ve used his words. Left them at the scene of my crime. He doesn’t discriminate between my kind though. He hates us all.
I’m far more discerning. I hate all the passive, all the humbled, all the unquestioning, all the pathetically grateful of my kind. That is not for us.
What we should be is Killers. Hunters. Victors.
And to that end, I
too have played my part. A role you have seen me in since pretty much the start of our time together.
Do you wonder at what I was like before? When I was still human? Is this method acting or simply showmanship? Back then, I was young, rich, handsome. Had it all in a way. Wanted it to stay that way. Thought I had skills to offer to eternity. Turns out what I had was cash. Or so I’ve been told.
I became a vampire first. Then, I became a killer.
I met an old, old vampire. I was newly changed. He was centuries old. Not long for the world, as it turned out. When it was discovered what he was doing, what he was saying, the Committee ended him. Lights out. But not before he’d spoken to me. Told me of the way it was before. Before HaemX. When the two kinds were not mutually dependent. Before symbiosis had been forced on the world.
He told me of hunting. Of the smell of fear. The power. The true taste of blood.
And I wanted it. He told me it wasn’t possible. And he was correct. Even then, decades after the blood plague was over, the time wasn’t right. The world wasn’t right.
I waited. I was patient. I played the role of impulsive, shallow vampire. The role of happy-go-lucky. The role of hedonist. The role of loving life the way it is. Not accepting it – far, far more than that. Of embracing it. Of taking all it can give.
Time moved. And with it, slowly, slowly, deep down, the distrust that had never been silenced began to coalesce into groups like RAGE, into graffiti, into something tangible. Something I could use.
I waited. I was patient. I played my role. Had fun even with my outward persona. Why not? I had the time, but never once did I forget.
I was confident I would know when to start. And you? You’ve been privileged enough to be part of it. To see the reveal of my plan, bit by bit. Murder by murder.
Symbiosis: A Vampire Psycho-Thriller Page 32