Vampire Apocalypse: A World Torn Asunder

Vampire Apocalypse: A World Torn Asunder Page 12

"Peter!"

Harris turned at the sound of this name and saw Sandra Harrington trotting down the corridor. His face softened into a smile when he saw her. "Hello there, stranger," he said.

"Yes, it has been hectic for the last few days, especially with the children being sick." Her smile faded at the thought of the growing sick list and then seemed to shake it off. "Anyway, that shouldn't stop you from visiting me," she teased back as she pocked him in the chest.

"I make it a firm rule never to enter hospitals, even to visit such a pretty nurse."

They both smiled at that and moved to the side of the corridor as people jostled past.

"It sure is busy out here," Sandra said as she nodded towards the throng of people.

"Yeah, we're about ready to go. Hopefully we'll bring back something that'll help the kids."

Sandra's face suddenly grew serious. "Listen," she began and then faltered as if not quite sure how to proceed now she was here. She looked at Harris and was shocked to see such lines around his eyes. He looked pale and his eyes seemed to reflect a deep sadness that she hadn't seen before. There had been a definite spark between them since Harris had been brought into the group but there had never been any opportunity to be alone to explore where it might go. When they had still lived in the city they had been forced to remain in their own residences or risk being discovered and, as they had lived on opposite sides of the city they had only ever seen each other at their weekly meetings. Even there, her father was always around so they had never really had more than stolen glances and the occasional whispered conversation. Even now, with them living in the same location, they had been pulled in different directions as their responsibilities took more and more of their time.

But still, she felt knew him as well as anyone could and there was something not quite right. Something seemed to be weighing on him. She tried to look deeper into his eyes, hoping to see something there and then the moment was gone as they were jostled aside by people trying to get past. "You take care out there," she said quickly as she rested her hand on his arm. Whatever was wrong would have to wait. "This is a major operation. We've never done anything on this scale before and ..."

"We don't have a choice." Harris interrupted softly as he raised his hand to brush her cheek. "Don't worry; we've gone over the plan so often I could do this blind-folded."

"When you come back we'll have to make time for each other." She seemed to blurt the words out as if afraid that if she thought too long about them that they wouldn't come out at all.

"Count on it," he replied and then smiled. For a brief moment his eyes lit up and she saw the spark that had attracted her to him when she had first met him but then, just as quickly, it was gone and his eyes took on a haunted glaze again. She was about to speak when he suddenly folded her in his arms. This wasn't the time, she decided as she hugged him in return. But they would have to talk when he returned. As he hugged her she could feel his obvious love for her but there was also something almost desperate about how he held her that frightened her.

"Harris!" The shout came from the entrance bay to the underground facility where a group of people waited.

"I have to go," he whispered and then hugged her tightly once more before he broke the embrace. His lips softly caressed hers and then he turned and hurried to the waiting group.

Sandra Harrington admonished herself when the tears began running down her face. She had not known Peter Harris for long, but already she couldn't imagine life without him. She watched him make his way down the corridor and follow his team out to the elevator. At the last moment he turned. His jaw was set so rigid she feared his teeth would crack. They stared at each other and she mouthed the words, "I love you." She saw him begin to reply, but then the door closed with a loud clunk and she was left alone.

Harris surveyed the city from an old building outside the walled area. Feels like I've been in this situation before, he thought. The wall that stretched before him ran out of sight in both directions. Floodlights perched every thirty feet or so illuminated the surrounding areas. Thralls patrolled the ramparts and their posture and occasional stretching revealed their obvious boredom. Harris could see eight thralls from where he stood, but was certain that many more were inside the city.

When they left the Cave the group had split into three separate units to reduce the risk of being spotted. Each unit followed a pre-determined and totally separate route to the city. They had left an hour before dawn and it had taken his unit twenty minutes on a forced march to get into position. He had no way to be sure that each group had reached their positions because they had decided against the use of their radios this close to the city.

This was by far the biggest undertaking they had ever embarked upon. Thirty-five people were positioned around the city and another twenty people would leave the Cave soon with transport for the return journey. They had had a few scares on the way when they spotted patrols, but, luckily, the thralls were merely going through the motions and the vampires were more interested in returning to their lairs this close to dawn.

The committee had decided on three separate objectives for this attack. Group Alpha would make their way to the Hospital and scavenge anything useful there. This was considered a soft target because it had been abandoned since the vampires had taken over and that group consisted of only five people. Their main problem would be the mile long journey they had to make deep into thrall territory.

The Anderson brothers, Bill and Scott, led this group. John Pritchard would also accompany them. Harris hated taking three of his best men away from the assault; especially since they all had actual experience fighting the vampires. But they really needed medical supplies and the distance involved warranted the high calibre of men. Jenny White, one of their nurses and another very scarce resource, was with the group to ensure that only usable medicines and equipment were brought back. John Hackett completed the group. Harris didn't really know anything about the man other than he had been a farmer, but at six-foot-three and built like a linebacker, he reckoned that he'd be good for carrying if nothing else.

Group Bravo consisted of twenty people and they had the most critical mission of the three, namely food and general supplies. Unfortunately for the group, the thralls controlled the only consumable supplies left in the city and these were kept in their many barracks dotted throughout the city. Tonight's target was chosen due to its proximity to the city walls, but as luck would have it, this was also one of the largest occupied facilities in the city. Dan Reiss was leading the group in, and, in Harris" opinion, a better choice couldn't be found. As an original core group member, Reiss had the most experience of any of them. His group was made up of volunteers who had distinguished themselves during the many practice sessions they had run.

I hope to God this doesn't backfire on us, Harris thought, the Cave will be virtually defenceless if we fail here tonight.

Harris led the third group, Group Nero. He smiled at the name that defied the naming convention of the other groups. Harris" target was Nero himself. This was a big risk, but if they could destroy the city's head vampire, the ensuing confusion would give the group more time to establish themselves while the other vampires fought over the vacant leadership. They had identified the building Nero used as a base some time ago, but had never dared to attempt an assault before.

The three attacks were spaced out over a distance of over a thousand yards along the wall. They hoped that using multiple entry points would create more confusion and force the thralls to spread their forces over a larger area. Although Harris had successfully planned a number of raids so far, he still based his strategies more on his knowledge of historical battles and a lifetime of playing and designing war games than on any actual experience. In fact, before the vampires had taken over, the closest he ever gotten to real action were a few games of paintball with friends in the woods.

Designing war games had instilled in him a love of history though and his research into the causes, deployment and aftermath of many of the wars in human history did give him a good theoretical base to plan strategy. What he did not have, however, was any real experience in the human element that so often in history turned most of the battles he had studied.

He hated planning other people's lives. It petrified him to think that people lived or died on the strength of his decisions. These weren't computer-generated pixels that could be renewed from a saved game if he made a mistake. These were real people. If he messed up, people he knew would die. That was a hell of a responsibility and he had spent an hour with Father Reilly before they had set out. He explained his doubts and confessed his fears of the task that had been set for him.

Reilly had listened and asked him a question every now and then but remained largely silent. Harris had spoken at length of what had happened to him in Boston, his nightmares since then and his fears for the same thing happening all over again. Reilly had seemed shocked that he had managed to keep such pain and fear to himself for so long.

"You have had a lot of responsibility thrust upon you, Peter," he had begun when Harris had finally finished. Strangely he had felt almost light-headed after finally telling somebody of the guilt that drove him and the fear that twisted his stomach before every mission. He had never been one that could easily open up to anyone but he had felt like someone had lifted a great weight from him or if not actually lifted, at least the load had been shared. Reilly had spoken calmly about how many people in history had been thrown into situations of responsibility they had not asked for but who had risen to the challenge anyway. Finally, he had taken Harris's hands in his and looked him straight in the eyes, "If not you, Peter, then who else? Is there anyone else in the community who could do a better job?"

Harris had studied all the new recruits over the last few weeks in the hopes that someone would be more suited to take on the responsibility. He thought that Crockett would be perfect, but Harrington had been firm that they needed both of them in separate roles if they were to survive; one for offence and the other for defence. Harris had examined many others but, even though he desperately wanted to pass on his burden, he knew he could not do so unless the person would be able to do the job better than he could, he owed everyone that much. Of all the others Harris had examined, no one had come anywhere near what was needed. "No," he had replied with a heavy sigh.

"Then the responsibility is yours for now. Accept it and it will be easier to bear. People may die, of course, but this is a war of survival not just some disagreement about religion. Your responsibility is to do the best you can, you have saved far more up to now than you have lost and you must take comfort in that."

Harris shook himself from his reverie and looked at his watch. He counted down the last few seconds and then left his position on the roof to join his group. Timing was critical. They had to be gone before full light in order for the remaining darkness to cover their retreat. They were counting on the early hour and the suddenness of the attack to leave the thralls disoriented long enough to get the groups close enough to their base so they could abandon their vehicles.

The final seconds passed and then three large explosions rocked the night and everything went to hell.

Dan Reiss crouched near the wall and watched three members of his team plant the explosives. He kept a nervous eye on the thrall who paced along the rampart some ten feet above them and breathed a sigh of relief when the three men finished and retreated a safe distance.

"Two minutes to go," Reiss whispered to the men around him.

His heart hammered in his chest and his hands itched with sweat. This was the fourth raid he had been involved in, but this one was different. Up till now they had always had the element of surprise on their side. After the last attack, though, the thralls had doubled the number of guards on all of their installations. The people around him, many of whom he didn't even know, remained hidden from the thralls behind whatever cover they could find and he shifted position nervously. One good thing about the way the city and its environs had been left to deteriorate was the number of abandoned cars they could use as cover off the main travelled routes out of the city.

Reiss was a mechanic by trade, but had been a sergeant in the local reserve on weekends for the last ten years. His steel grey hair was cut short and his body was well muscled from years of physical training. This "experience" had earned him a command and he was terrified, not only at his own lack of real experience, but also because the men he led were a mixture of office workers, shop owners and factory employees.

Christ! He thought we even have a male stripper. What's he going to do, throw his thong at the vampires?

Despite the tense situation he smiled and looked down at his watch once more. "Okay people," he whispered. "Get ready."

Philip Warkowski wiped his brow and brought the rifle's telescopic lens back to eye level. He sighted on a patrolling thrall and followed him to the end of his allotted area. Warkowski had chosen his position well and from this rooftop he could see all of his targets without the need to change building. After he had dispatched his targets, his orders were to stay put and cover the retreat. Warkowski, however, had other plans.

He had been among the group that had been saved at the compound. He was deeply indebted to this group of rebels and had the highest respect for them, but when the thralls had taken him for their planned massacre, they had left behind his wife and nine-year-old daughter. The thought of them still in the city and at the mercy of the thralls consumed him.

He had pleaded that he be allowed to find his family and bring them out during the attack, but had been refused. If he was honest with himself he couldn't blame Harris for saying no. There was no way they could accommodate everyone in rescuing their loved ones, he understood that. But that wouldn't stop him either. Their house wasn't far from here. It was just too close not to try. He should be able to sneak by the main hotspots, find his family and return to his position with no one the wiser. His stomach knotted with worry, both for his family and because he felt guilty for leaving his post, but he reasoned that he really didn't have a choice. He glanced at his watch one more time and settled himself to the task in hand.

Scott Anderson and his team were the furthest along the wall in the least populated sector of the three designated target areas. He glanced at his people and marvelled at their calm. His small group was comprised of a nurse, a farmer, a solicitor and two tech heads.

Hardly what you'd call an elite strike force, he thought, but the looks of determination on each of their faces gave him strength.

"Thirty seconds!" he whispered.