Vampire Apocalypse: A World Torn Asunder

Scott Anderson and Ken Rodgers slipped quietly over the rubble and melted into the shadows of the city. They had been surprised that the hole left from their previous excursion had not been repaired. A board nailed to each jagged end of the wall was the only deterrent. Of course, the thralls were in a much higher state of awareness than ever before, but the three guards had been dispatched easily enough in the end.



The city was quiet; the cold evening air caused fog to rise from the water at the docks and gave a surreal look to the whole area.



"Looks like something out of an old horror movie." Rodgers grinned and Anderson threw his eyes up to heaven.



"I knew it was a mistake to bring you. Can't you take anything seriously?"



"Beer and women, after that I pretty much lose interest." Both men grinned this time.



Darkness had just fallen but the horizon still glowed weakly as the sun sank beyond the cityscape. The committee had decided that the thralls would probably expect them to attack at dawn when they had usually attacked in the past. It made far more sense to attack when the vampires were tucked up for the day, however, the thralls would now be at a far higher alert setting. For that reason, they decided on an evening raid. While it was absolutely more dangerous to try and operate when the vampires were awake, they hoped that the vampires would consider it madness to try anything at night and that the thralls would assume that the vampires were in control at night. With any luck the resulting confusion would make the chances of success better. Of course, it was a huge gamble.



The two figures crept through the city and kept their eyes as much on the sky as on the streets. They moved slowly, their packs heavy with explosives, and had to change direction twice to avoid thrall patrols. Five minutes from the hospital they heard a faint rustling in the air above them. Both men dived for cover when a vampire passed overhead. Sweat poured from the men as the creature passed mere feet above them and continued on, oblivious to their presence.



"I thought they had a great sense of smell, night vision and shit like that," Rodgers said. His relief was evident on his face.



"They do," Scott answered, "but luckily their arrogance gets the better of them. Most never really achieve their full potential. Come on, let's do this and get out of here."



Philip Warkowski was in hell. At least that was what it felt like. It was easier to identify those parts of his body that didn't hurt than those that did. He had awakened some five minutes ago and had been unable to move since. Each movement brought a fresh wave of nausea and pain, so he just lay there and tried to get his bearings. The room was dark and the only sign of life was the incessant pinging of the monitor by his bedside.



He tried to move his head. He knew he was in a hospital, but whose? Were thralls caring for him, so he could go on feeding their masters, or had someone brought him back to the Cave? Did Sarah and Jill make it out safely? Questions flooded his still muddled brain but there were no answers. The last thing he remembered was the explosion, and then half the city had fallen on him.



He gritted his teeth and slowly turned to his right, and an immediate rush of relief flooded through him. Sarah sat in the chair beside him, slumped in a half doze. There was no way that the thralls would let her stay with him. They both must be safe.



"Thank God," he muttered. His voice was low, but was so out of place in an otherwise quiet room that Sarah stirred and opened her eyes.



"Oh my God, you're awake," she exclaimed and rushed forward. She held his face and kissed him repeatedly.



"Aaagghhh!" He couldn't help but cry out as his body screamed in pain.



"Oh God, I'm sorry. That bloody serum wore off only this morning. I'm still a bit clumsy." She smiled delightedly, despite her obvious sincerity. Warkowski understood. He had walked around for a whole week with a permanent grin on his face when he first overcame the serum's effects.



"It's so good to see you, Sarah."



"God, but I've missed you, Phil," she answered. "They told me we were held for two years. We've missed our baby growing up." Tears sprang to her eyes and gently rolled down her cheeks.



"I know." Despite the pain, Warkowski reached his hand to her cheek. "But we're here now. We have the rest of our lives to make up for the past and look to the future. Speaking of Jill, how has she been affected by all this? Has she recovered?"



"Daddy, you're awake!"



The shrill scream came from the doorway. The child sprinted across the room and launched herself at the bed. Before either adult could stop her, she jumped up on the bed and wrapped her short, stubby arms around Warkowski and hugged with all her might. Tears flooded her eyes, too.



"I missed you," she said simply and buried her face in his chest.



Pains shot through every part of his body and consciousness began to slip away. He fought against the blackness to force his arms up and completely envelope his daughter's tiny body in his massive embrace. The pain still came in waves, but Warkowski hadn't been as happy as this in years. All the pain, the sacrifice and the work which had gotten him here melted away in that moment. He knew they would return, but it was enough for now.



"I missed you too, honey."



The two men slipped into the hospital through the same window that Scott had used before. At least this had been repaired. He briefly felt sorry for the poor maintenance guy before smashing the window again and entering the dark building.



"Okay, we'll be quicker if we split up. Set the charges every twenty feet or so on the far side of the building. We'll meet up back here in..." Anderson paused to look at his watch, "...say, twenty-five minutes."



Rodgers nodded and trotted off down the corridor, his pack bouncing from side to side as he went. He stopped at the end of the corridor to set the timer on an explosive, and then he rose and moved on to the next target area around the corner.



Scott had already laid most of his charges when a thrall came through a fire door right in front of him. He froze. His heart beat furiously in his chest, a cold sweat broke out down his back, and his muscles tensed. The thrall was distracted, reading a paper on a clipboard, and never saw the figure launch itself at him. The knife slid easily through the flesh under his chin, and the thrall collapsed into his arms, already dead.



Scott let the body fall to the ground. With only seven minutes left on the timer it was irrelevant whether the body was found or not. Three minutes later he met up with Rodgers again. They exited through the same window and hurried back the way they had come. When they were just outside the hospital grounds the explosions started. Both men grinned when the night lit up.



"Let's get out of here," Scott shouted above the roar of the explosions. "We can use the confusion to cover our tracks."



It took them an hour and a half to sneak back to the Cave. Both men looked exhausted from the trip and the stress of the night raid. The constant threat of discovery by thralls--or even worse, by vampires--had taken its toll and they almost fell through the door when they dialled in the code.



A hundred yards out from the house a figure watched from the crook of a tree. The night goggles he used gave him a clear picture of the entryway and the two men. He leaned back and smiled, his grey eyes twinkling in the pale light from the moon.



"Gotcha!"