Something of the Night Read online

  An entire platoon of soldiers waited at the centre of the cave, ready to ascend to the surface and offer cover for the fleeing transports. More people filed in behind Rebecca and the mutt, and eventually they were pushed towards the centre of the cavern.

  “Little girl, what are you waiting for?”

  She turned to find a bearded man standing over her. He was dressed in faded army fatigues and had a clipboard in the crook of his arm. “Go to the truck over there,” he ordered, and pointed to a rusty old wagon. The rear of the wagon was already overflowing with people.

  Rebecca scooped Scratch up. Then headed towards the truck. She took three or four steps only when she felt the whole cavern begin to tremble. She screamed and dropped to her knees. Thunder sounded above her head. She looked up and saw a huge chunk of ceiling break free. It split into a large square section before dropping slowly to the floor. Giant pistons hissed with compressed air as the platform sank towards her. Rebecca felt a powerful breeze blow over them, which wiped her hair crazily about her shoulders.

  The enormous slab of rock continued to descend and, as it reached midway, Rebecca saw something dark and deadly perched on top. Wings fluttered above its huge head, and she realised that they were the cause of the thunderous noise. Two black eyes stared down at her. She gasped when a face in each looked back at her. Most of the people inside the cavern had pushed themselves as far away as possible or taken refuge inside the vehicles.

  A platoon of soldiers staggered away. They dropped to their knees, the downwash from the helicopter forcing them back. Major Patterson stepped forward, pulling his pistol from its holster. He aimed it directly at the pilot’s head. He watched as the pilot’s gloved hand reached up, and within seconds the rotor-blades began to slow. The thunder lessened quickly to a steady whir. Regaining their balance, the line of soldiers aimed their weapons at the dark monstrosity before them.

  The loading platform touched down. Hundreds of eyes looked upon the Huey, fear clearly present in all of them. Apart from the whir of rotor-blades, the cavern had become silent. An uneasy moment dragged out.

  Then, with casual ease, somebody stepped out from the rear cabin.

  Scratch broke the silence as he scrabbled out of Rebecca’s arms. He scampered over to the newcomer. YAP! YAP! He barked as he raced towards the figure.

  “Hey, boy!” Rebecca yelled after him.

  The mutt jumped into the figure’s arms. He licked eagerly at a ruddy face, and his tail wagged so fast he was in danger of taking off.

  “Squirrel,” the Major breathed. He took a step closer and the mechanic grinned nervously. Patterson turned back to his soldiers. “Stand down,” he ordered. One by one, weapons dropped away.

  Squirrel endured the dog’s overeager affections for a second longer, then lowered Scratch to the floor. There, the mutt sat on his haunches, his tail working overtime and his tongue panting out an enthusiastic grin.

  “Good boy,” Squirrel said.

  Woof. Woof.

  Someone else stepped out of the Huey, and Patterson recognised Alice Hammond instantly. He waited eagerly, expecting Jacob Cain to appear next.

  He did not.

  Instead, a woman climbed from the helicopter. The rotors above blew her auburn hair about her head like spun threads of gold. She looked around her. She appeared unfazed by the unbelievable sight of the huge cavern and the remnants of the human race assembled there. Her heart-shaped face turned towards the line of soldiers.

  The Major’s legs almost buckled. Squirrel stepped forwards, ready to help, but the old soldier waved him away. In a daze, the Major moved closer. He found himself face to face with something that he could never have prepared for. No matter how much time he was given.

  “Hannah …”

  “Father …”

  They fell into each other’s arms, and for the longest moment the chaos around them ceased to exist.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Jacob Cain crouched low. The timber rolled from his arms. He quickly scanned through the pile and took hold of the largest log. It felt hefty in his hands. He stood and waited. The highway beckoned tantalisingly close, but the majority of the wolf pack had blocked off that direct route, trapping them behind a wall of sharp fangs.

  “DOWN!” Jacob yelled, as the first attack came. They hit the deck and the wolf flew over. Its skull cracked as it slammed against a tree. It fell to the bush and twisted and thrashed, then lay still. More shapes swelled between the trees, which blocked any chance of escape. They climbed to their feet before heading back in the other direction. Jacob tried to lead them closer to the highway, but the dark menace forced them further into the woods. We’re being herded deeper and deeper, Jacob thought suddenly. He pulled Pet to a halt, reluctant to go any further.

  The pack closed in. All escape routes blocked off. Their rank scent forced Jacob’s mind to draw up pictures of death and decay. Sores festering with maggots were plain to see, and some of the wolves looked as if their hindquarters had been gnawed at or chewed on by something that had been driven beyond starvation.

  The tracker held the log out before him. He swung it in a tight arc in the hope of keeping the wolves at bay. It worked for a second. Most of the horde stopped, unwilling to bear the brunt of hard timber. A broken leg now would almost certainly mean the difference between life and death. Nevertheless, hunger pushed them on and it wasn’t long before the next attack came.

  In an uncanny example of coordination, two beasts lunged in, both sets of jaws aimed at the tracker’s legs. Jacob managed to halt one as the timber shattered against the wolf’s skull. The one at his rear found its mark. He felt material tear at his thigh. With a violent tug, the wolf pulled Jacob off his feet. His club fell uselessly into the mud. Jacob rolled onto his back and found jaws above him, dripping with saliva.

  This is it, the end of the road, he thought, as the beast readied for its attack. He threw one hand over his face, in an attempt to protect himself. Out of the darkness, another shape filled in his field of vision. It was huge and grey, and in the next instant the wolf on his chest was gone. The tracker heard an agonising cry.

  Jacob sat up and found the huge grey wolf before him. Its jaws burst with hot blood as it tore the other beast’s throat away. More shadows appeared all around him. A second pack of wolves entered the fray. They bounded forwards, jaws open wide and at the ready. Jacob watched in amazement as three bolted past Pet, ignoring him completely, and then struck at the weaker horde.

  Jacob tore across open ground to grab Pet’s arm – roughly – and pulled him quickly away from the carnage around them.

  “Wait,” Pet mumbled, drawing them to an abrupt halt. “There,” he said, and pointed to the undergrowth.

  A pile of dropped timber lay half scattered in the scrub. Quickly, they retrieved as much as they could. Then, with arms laden, they raced down the hill and broke through the trees. They stopped, the tracker drawing in deep breaths. Jacob turned back to the dark, foreboding trees. How the hell did they find us? He remembered the shadows that had followed from Fort Collins to Glen Eagle, and realised that a force he could neither explain nor comprehend was driving the horde. A deeper mystery than anything he had encountered before. He heard a long howl and understood at once what it meant. Triumph. The grey wolf and its brethren had defeated the other pack. Jacob had a second to remain both confused and grateful before a different sort of bark commanded his attention.

  “You two,” Balack growled. “Where have you been?”

  Jacob opened his mouth, ready to tell him to go to hell, but the look of anger on the other’s face silenced any remark.

  “What are you waiting for? Let’s go,” Balack ordered.

  The vampire captain headed back towards the Airstreamer. Balack ordered Jacob and Pet to drop the wood into two piles. After a couple of minutes, two bright bonfires burned, one either side of the sealed doorway.

  Now exhausted, Jacob leaned against the chrome of the trailer. Heat beat at his face as th
e fires began to crackle and spit. With a creak of suspension, the trailer groaned as something heavy moved about inside. The door at Jacob’s side opened outwards and a dark shadow filled the gap. Huge boots stepped down from the trailer and onto the side of the highway.

  Thalamus climbed down from the Airstreamer. He stretched. Then rolled his head around in an attempt to work the stiffness out of his broad shoulders. As he did, his long dreadlocks jangled with the sound of bones rubbing against each other. He stepped further away from the trailer to draw alongside Captain Balack. Even the captain looked tiny in comparison. The giant vampire looked from one fire to the next. He nodded as if in appreciation, although his flesh would not have felt the warmth generated, nor his spirit solace from the light. He stood motionless for a second until something from behind demanded his attention. “You,” he said. “Who are you?”

  Jacob pulled away from the smooth chrome. “I’m one of the new techs,” he replied.

  Thalamus turned to Balack. “Your leadership is lacking. Ezekiel will not be pleased to find mere drones lying around with nothing to do.”

  “They brought wood,” Balack responded quickly. “For the fires, as my master ordered. So the wolves stay away from the command centre.” Balack remembered the fate of the last group of techs; the ones who had allowed a lone wolf get within striking distance of Ezekiel’s young boy. He shuddered. He hoped not to share the same fate as them.

  Thalamus’s dark face turned to Jacob and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “If your work is done, then why do you linger?”

  Jacob drew in a deep breath. “Just catching a breath,” he said, then wiped at his brow.

  The dark giant looked back silently. Thalamus frowned. Something the tech had just said and done set alarm bells ringing. The tech grinned back at him, nervously, and its canines reflected two slivers of firelight. What was it? Thalamus thought. He stepped closer, and his shadow engulfed the smaller soldier. With a lack of formality the tech leaned back against the trailer and slipped both his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The act of insubordination ignited Thalamus’s anger. “Stand to attention,” he ordered.

  Jacob did just that. But his hands clenched around two grenades. Hidden from view, his fingers turned both timers down to their lowest limit. Then, carefully, he threaded his fingers through the detonation-pins and waited. The giant vampire drew near. One of its dark hands reached out. Jacob reared back, but the sheer length of the vampire’s arm caught him easily. Two fingers ran across the tracker’s cheek. They came away damp.

  Thalamus looked at his fingertips and his broad brow creased with confusion.

  Jacob was confused by the vampire’s strange behaviour for a second. Then, with a sickening dread, he understood what had interested the vampire.

  Sweat.

  A fine film of sweat had covered his face in a damp sheen. Jacob looked quickly from Thalamus to Balack and then to Pet. For, although they were closer to the flames than he, none of them showed any signs of perspiration, or the effects of an increase in temperature. The giant vampire’s face was a smooth, dry mask of ebony, while both Pet and Balack had faces that were almost as white as the bones that hung from the giant’s dreadlocks. Vampires were incapable of feeling the differences in temperature, thus unable to sweat!

  In the next instant, Thalamus understood the significance of his find. His eyes widened and his mouth opened.

  Time ground to a halt.

  Jacob seemed to have an eternity to pull both pins free. He watched as the giant reached out with a massive hand, ready to crush the life out of him. The tracker ducked and rolled underneath the attack. Two grenades appeared in his hands. And then, incredibly, the leader of the vampires appeared at the opening to the command centre.

  Ezekiel.

  His broad shoulders seemed to fill the doorway, but his head missed the top by almost a foot. He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. He looked no more menacing than a middle-aged scholar. His other hand seemed to trail behind him as if he were using it to usher someone or something out of the trailer. Behind the lenses, his brown, intelligent eyes seemed to widen as the unexpected scene played out before him.

  Automatically, Jacob’s arms reared back, ready to launch both grenades at the bastard before him. He felt his shoulders tense as he prepared to let fly.

  Suddenly, Ezekiel’s cohort appeared.

  Ezekiel’s human shield, a boy.

  The unexpected sight stunned Jacob’s mind into immobility. It was the appearance of the boy that rocked his senses - a recognisable profile. It was a face Jacob knew well. His own. The boy had dark brown hair streaked with a fiery auburn – just like Hannah’s. Two big eyes blinked, and they were the colour of flint grey threaded with slivers of green. A fusion of Jacob’s and Hannah’s eyes. It took only a millisecond for the tracker to understand that the boy before him was, unbelievably, his child.

  The world spun and time regained momentum, then raced by with an alarming acceleration. Jacob’s mind froze instantly. Its last command filtered into his nerves and sinews. And, with horror, he watched as the two grenades slipped from his hands. They spun towards the vampire and his boy, and all Jacob could do was watch in horrified astonishment. He heard someone cry out to his right, a voice he recognised, and in the next second he felt himself thrown to the ground.

  “Jacob, NO!” someone cried.

  Too late.

  The grenades had already been released. They spun towards the command centre with deadly intent.

  Ezekiel reacted on impulse. He pushed the boy backwards, into the trailer and to safety, and then he almost ripped the door off its hinges as he slammed it shut behind them.

  The world turned instantly bright. Jacob felt his hair singe and a wave of immeasurable heat sucked the breath from out of his lungs. The thing on top of him was blown clear, and from the corner of his eye he saw it spin violently away, landing where Captain Balack had been standing a moment earlier. Now, however, the captain was little more than a frightful memory. Two black boots remained fixed to the floor, their soles welded solid to the highway. The rest of him was scattered across the woodlands in a cold drizzle of red rain.

  Pet had been blown right across the highway, and he found himself dazed and surrounded by a mob of curious looking vampires.

  Jacob gasped, his lungs hitching for air. He watched as a fireball climbed into the dark sky, turning the clouds above into a boiling orange miasma. Then air rushed in to fill the void around him. He managed to heave in a lungful of clean air. His senses returned. Looking over at the hooded figure, he found his nephew lying unconscious. A dry scab of blood had pooled around him. “Elliot… ” he rasped, his throat scorched dry.

  Elliot’s eyes opened. They were bloodshot and crimson teardrops leaked from both corners. He tried to pull himself up, away from the highway, but the red gore had stuck him to the asphalt. However, trying harder, he managed to prize himself free. He came away from the highway like an opposing strip of Velcro.

  Jacob turned his attention to the trailer. It had lurched to one side, and the chrome panelling had taken a direct hit. The side nearest to him was a crumpled mess. The door had buckled inwards and flames had turned the polished surface into a black smear. He looked around the highway but found neither his son nor the vampire leader. He prayed the vampire had had the sense to save his son. He stood on unsteady legs and then turned to Elliot. The young man offered him a slight wave. Go, it said, help the boy. Jacob staggered over to the trailer. He pushed his hands through a crack in the doorframe. Something heavy slammed against him. He felt heat and strength grip him around the neck, pinning him against the trailer.

  “Move an inch, and I’ll crush you like a bug,” a voice said. The speaker’s breath carried a hint of cooked meat with it. Jacob was spun roughly around and he found himself eye to eye with a giant black Frankenstein.

  The vampire’s dreadlocks had melted into his scalp, and a black crest of tar had taken their plac
e. Charred scales poked from out of a shiny black shell. He peered out from one bleached eye. The brown of his iris had burnt away. It had now turned almost white. His other eye was sealed shut by a swollen mass of flesh, which had melted over the orb in a flap of molten tissue.

  “I hope for your sake, human, that my master lives,” the dark monster warned.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  The Airstreamer bucked and swayed. It had been over an hour now since they had moved over smooth ground. Inside, the occupants were continually jostled about as the trailer rolled over rough earth. Ezekiel’s army had almost reached its destination.

  Jacob’s eyes locked to those of the vampire. Ezekiel’s normally cool demeanour was replaced by doubt and suspicion, while Jacob’s eyes contained nothing but hatred. He held the vampire’s gaze.

  “If you value them, I suggest you stop staring,” Ezekiel advised.

  “Value what?” Jacob snarled.

  “Your eyes.”

  Brother Trask bent over the tracker and his fingers flexed. “I’ll pull them both right out of your head,” he warned.

  Jacob didn’t even blink.

  Ezekiel broke the tension with a genuine, hearty laugh. “What is it about you, human? Why do you not fear me?”

  “What have I to fear?” Jacob asked.

  Ezekiel went quiet. A good question, he thought. What did the human have to fear? It had become apparent the tracker was not going to be killed or inducted into the ranks of the undead. Not yet anyway.

  Both Jacob and Elliot were tied at the back of the Airstreamer. Hands bound above their heads and fixed to the walls. Rope pulled their wrists together, looped tightly around two hooks, which were fixed high enough so that both Jacob and Elliot had been left to half dangle and half sit. The young tracker was slouched unconscious by Jacob’s side. He had taken a swipe at the black Frankenstein and come off second best. A purple bruise darkened his chin. Jacob was surprised that that was all Elliot had suffered. The huge vampire’s strength was unmatchable. Earlier, he had peeled open the buckled door of the trailer with ease to free those inside.