Something of the Night (5 page)

Chapter Eight

Ezekiel laid the child gently down. With a sleepy
murmur the infant boy nestled into the thick woollen blanket. The vampire
pulled the blanket high, covering the child and forcing the night chill to seek
out another soul to torment. A dark hand brushed a lock of brown hair away from
the boy’s smooth brow. Such a handsome child, Ezekiel thought, as he watched
the boy sleep.

He turned away and withdrew
from the tight sleeping quarters. A long time ago the room had caged a ruthless
serial killer. As Ezekiel strode past the rows of iron bars, he could smell the
rank odour of his brethren, sleeping in an attempt to slow the onslaught of
hunger. Once again, these prison cells were home to men of sin and immorality.

Damn this wretched world,
Ezekiel thought, as he made his way outside. He remembered the start, when his
race had first emerged from the shadows. The bounty had been plentiful to begin
with. What had survived had been confused and disorientated, and easy prey. Not
now. The surviving humans had become smart, hiding in their dark underground
sanctuaries.

Ezekiel found himself in an
open courtyard. To the left of the exercise yard was another set of gates like
the ones through which he’d just passed, and beyond them were the chambers that
contained the breeding cells.

Never, not once, had he
ventured into these terrible holding pens. He had heard a lot about them;
indeed, it had been
his
idea to attempt to breed humans with his own
kind. Desperation and the insistent whisperings of his ‘trusted’ lieutenant,
Isaac, had clouded his judgment. Conversely, rather than producing the
provisions needed, they had instead conceived a brood of the undead.

Ezekiel sighed.

His people needed food, and
soon.

The unexpected scrape of a
boot sounded from the left. Squinting, Ezekiel saw the outline of four shapes.
He took a step to his right, and the flickering light from beyond the prison
walls revealed a glint of gunmetal.

The vampire leader took a
step closer. “What is this?” he commanded.

A voice that Ezekiel
recognised said, “Time for a bit of fun.”

It was a voice he’d once
trusted.

The speaker cleared the
shadows, and Ezekiel looked upon a hideous female face.

“Bara, what is this?” he
asked.

A face of bloated flesh
spoke. “We’re taking this …
whore
for breeding.”

Two well-muscled soldiers
stood behind the overweight vampire, holding between them the slight figure of
a young woman. The flicker of light revealed a skinny teenager, clamped tightly
between the soldiers. The teenager looked directly at the vampire leader, and
Ezekiel saw fear clear in her eyes. He looked from one soldier to the next, and
found only lust in theirs. Time for fun indeed, he thought.

“Who gave those orders?” he
asked.

The jailer grinned slyly.
“Brother Isaac.”

Damn that fool, Ezekiel
thought. “My orders were to suspend any attempts to mate with these humans.”

“But there is no food,” Bara
retorted. Her words had not been an observation but rather criticism, which was
aimed at the man standing before her.

Ezekiel gritted his teeth. “I
am aware of the … situation, but still, there have been too many failures with
the cross-breeding.”

“Then we’ll mate her with one
of her own kind,” Bara said.

Ezekiel looked at the mask of
desire that the two soldiers wore. No, this young woman’s fate had already been
decided.

“Take her back,” he ordered.

“No …” Bara responded, in
defiance.

Ezekiel stepped closer. The
two soldiers twitched nervously; unsure as to whom their loyalties lay towards.

“Bara, you
will
do as
I say. There will be no fun tonight,” Ezekiel said wearily.

The jailer’s face twisted
itself into a hideous contortion of anger. A long time ago, the face had been
different - almost pretty. At the beginning of the vampiric uprising she had
stood alongside the dark man before her, and had even shared his bed for a
short while. But years of gorging herself in the spill of blood had turned her
into a fat, bloated ogre.

“Return her to her cell,”
Ezekiel instructed.

The vampire jailer’s mouth
opened. She snarled in annoyance, four rotten fangs. With a wave of her chubby
hand, she said, “Take the bitch back to her putrid cell. I grow tired of this
fool.”

Ezekiel looked at each
soldier individually, burning their faces onto the film of his memory. “Do as
she says,” he ordered, “but make sure she is returned unharmed, or you’ll both
be the toast of tonight’s feast.”

Understanding exactly what
the vampire leader was telling them and, in no rush to be served on a platter,
both soldiers bowed quickly, then escorted the young woman back to the confines
of her cell.

“What has become of you?”
Ezekiel asked Bara, once alone.

Bara saw his look of pity. She
spat a baleful hiss in his direction. “You – Ezekiel, that’s what’s happened to
me. You’ve reduced me to a keeper of animals. What a miserable existence! I
need to feel the thrill of the hunt. When will you lead us to the humans’
lair?”

“We will both feel the thrill
of the hunt soon,” he said.

“How soon?”

“Very …”

Chapter Nine

Alice Hammond gripped the steering wheel as she
struggled to keep the old truck under control. Dropping in and out of miniature
craters and broken asphalt, the truck bounced and skidded, throwing the three
occupants inside around in their seats. Twin headlights cut through the night,
burning back dust and darkness in equal measure, laying out a path of blazing
light ahead.

“Just a little faster,
please,” Squirrel begged.

Yap
!
Yap
!
Scratch
barked excitedly. The little mutt jumped from the back to join Squirrel on the
passenger seat.

“Look, even Scratch wants to
go faster,” Squirrel said.

The dog stuck his head
through the side window.
Woof!

Alice
eased off the gas pedal, reduced speed and brought
the truck back under control.

Squirrel felt the vehicle
slow. “What’s the matter?”

“Look,”
Alice
said.
She swapped the gas for the brake. In a squeal of brake-pads, the truck slowed.
The single taillight blinked on, which threw a blood-red mist around the back
of the wagon.

“Look,”
Alice
repeated, this time pointing over the hood.

Squirrel squinted through the
cracked windshield. He peered into the darkness ahead and found the shells of
burnt-out cars, trucks and other unrecognisable husks. Beyond the wreckage, the
road climbed before disappearing over a distant hump.

“Oh – right,” Squirrel
commented, after he’d seen the obstructions.

“I think it’s time we made
our way back,”
Alice
said. “Betsy’s running just fine. You did a good job
on her repairs.”

“Just a little while longer,”
Squirrel pleaded. “Just to be sure.”

Alice
scanned the deserted highway. “Okay, five more
minutes. And that’s it.”

“Thanks,” Squirrel said,
beaming like a child.

Yap
!

She popped the shift-stick
into first. With a slight grind of gears the truck moved towards the makeshift
blockade. She brought the vehicle up to the obstruction. Carefully, she steered
left and right, threading the truck through the twist of metal. At one point
the truck got caught between a bent fender and a collapsed tailgate.
Alice
jammed
her foot onto the gas and, with a squeal of metal, the truck punched its way
through. With relative ease, she brought the truck out onto the other side. She
shifted into second and then pulled away from the wreckage. They weaved past
the occasional abandoned vehicle and reached the top of the crest relatively
unhindered. Below them, in the distance, little more than a dark suggestion,
they saw the outline of a deserted town.

“We’ll go as far as the
border, and that’s it,”
Alice
said.

“Okay, that’s fine by me,”
Squirrel agreed, not wanting to actually enter the lifeless streets of the town
below.

The truck dropped away from
the summit. As it headed towards the town, Squirrel leaned out of the window.
He felt the wind blow hard against his face. Exhilarated, he whooped with joy
as the airflow blew his long hair about his ruddy cheeks.

Amused by his childlike
behaviour,
Alice
stepped harder on the gas. The truck launched itself
forwards, pulling Squirrel’s ample cheeks back and giving him a bizarre,
comical look.

“Faster!” Squirrel shouted,
through peeled-back lips.

The needle of the speedometer
inched its way higher. The asphalt began to level out and eventually it brought
them to the outskirts of town.

From nowhere, a silhouette
appeared in front of them. A pair of crystalline eyes stared back at the three
joy-riders and held them in their steely gaze.

Jumping on the brakes with
both feet,
Alice
felt the vehicle swerve to one side. The truck slid
sideways as it fishtailed out of control. She threw the steering wheel around
and twisted Betsy’s two front wheels into the slide. The wheels found purchase.
The vehicle jolted back into the centre of the road.
Alice
had a
second to remain pinned by the shadow’s eyes. Then, with a sickening bump, she
ran over it.

“CHRIST, WHAT WAS THAT?”
Squirrel exclaimed.

“I’m not sure,”
Alice
replied.

The brakes released a sharp
screech and the truck came to an abrupt halt. They twisted in their seats. Peered
through the rear window. A dark, misshapen body lay twenty or so feet behind
them.

“Shit, I think you hit a
stray dog or something,” Squirrel remarked.

“It’s too big for a dog,”
Alice
responded.

“Maybe it’s a sheep or goat?”
the mechanic suggested.

Alice
released a short, nervous laugh. “A sheep?”

“Okay, a goat.”

“A goat?”
Alice
laughed
again. “There hasn’t been any livestock in years. How the hell would a goat or
sheep have gotten here?”

“Dunno,” Squirrel mumbled.

“I’m gonna back up, see what
it is,”
Alice
declared, and shifted into reverse.

“No – wait,” Squirrel said.
The outside world had instantly become dangerous rather than appealing. “Let’s
just get out of here.”

“It’ll only take a minute,”
Alice
insisted. She reversed and drew alongside the fallen shape. She pulled on the
handbrake but left the motor running.

Squirrel heard
Alice
’s door
pop open. “What are you doing?”

“Quiet …”
Alice
warned.

She stepped out of the
vehicle and paused at her open door for a moment until she’d checked out the
surrounding darkness. The landscape was a solid slab of black space. She
stepped closer to the downed figure.

Squirrel reached into the
rear of the truck and retrieved a shotgun. With exaggerated caution, he pushed
open his door, and then slid across the seat. As he stepped onto the black
asphalt, he raised the weapon and let it rest in the crook of his free arm. He
turned, expecting Scratch to hop down from the back seat.

The little terrier stayed
fixed to the threadbare cover. He offered Squirrel a low, guttural growl before
dropping onto his front paws. With an additional
Woof
, he plopped his
head down and then looked up at the mechanic through a pair of furry brows.

“Coward,” Squirrel cussed. He
shook his head in disgust before circling around the truck to join
Alice
.

“Is it dead?” he asked in a
whisper.

“Not sure,” she told him.

The shape lay on its side,
motionless.
Alice
took a deep breath and stepped closer. She found a
large dog-shaped body with a dark jacket of matted fur. She grimaced. One of
its back legs was twisted and broken. White bone gleamed as it protruded
through torn flesh. Moving towards the head, she found an open maw. A long
tongue hung loosely between sharp canines: A wolf. She squatted down over the
beast’s head and then reached out with one hand.

“Careful. It might still be
ali-”

She silenced him with a quick
scowl.

Squirrel held his breath.

Alice
reached over and placed her hand against the wolf’s
flanks. Although the pelt was a thick and tangled mess, she felt the hard
protrusions of bones directly underneath. She ran her fingers over the hard
husk, finally stopping over the beast’s heart. Without warning, the head
twisted and, with a mighty
crack,
its jaws snapped together. Razor-sharp
teeth missed her hand by less than an inch. Surprised by the attack, she fell
back and landed heavily on her behind. With lightning speed the beast jumped
onto all fours and then lunged towards her exposed throat. Mercifully, its
broken leg buckled and the attack fell short.

“SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT!”
Alice
yelled.

It took a second for Squirrel
to move. When he did, he stepped forwards and pulled on the trigger.

Clank!

The firing-pin fired on an
empty chamber. “Christ!” Squirrel moaned. The beast descended upon her. Its
jaws opened wide and foul drool dripped from cruel fangs. “
Alice
, get out
of the way!” He chambered a shell into the shotgun. It was too late, a guttural
rumble escaped from its throat. It fixed
Alice
with two burning eyes, and then sprang forwards.

YAP
!
YAP
!

A small blur shot in front of
her. And unexpectedly, Scratch was before her, his fur high along the length of
his back.

YAP
!
YAP
!

The wolf froze, temporarily
bewildered by the small furry object standing before it. It blinked, shook its
head and then released a deafening howl. Unperturbed, Scratch stood there
defiant, his short tail up high. The beast’s lips peeled back as if grinning at
this foolish object.

Squirrel shook his head and
the grin became a snarl; all fangs and saliva.

Alice
seized her moment. She crawled away from the wolf,
dragging herself to Squirrel’s feet. “Shoot it!”

The mechanic dropped to one
knee. “Scratch – DOWN!”

As he had minutes earlier,
the little mutt dropped onto his front paws. The wolf misread this as an act of
submission and lunged forwards, intent on swallowing up the small appetizer in
one.

BOOM
!

In the blink of an eye the
wolf disappeared. One moment it was there, all fangs and menace, and in the
next, it was gone. A fine cloud of red mist hung in the air for a while, but
eventually it too was blown apart as the raging wind scattered the red
molecules in all directions.

“Here, help me,”
Alice
gasped,
and held out her arm. Squirrel slipped the shotgun over his shoulder. He pulled
her to her feet. “Thanks,” she said. “My hero.”

“Don’t mention it,” Squirrel
replied. His face burnt with a fierce red. And even the harsh wind could not
shift the glow from his beaming cheeks.

“Oh dear,”
Alice
moaned,
as she turned her attention to the little terrier.

Scratch stood by their feet,
the fur along the length of his back now a Mohawk. As well as his raised
hackles, a streak of bright crimson had splashed itself along his back, turning
him into a red skunk.

“Oh dear,”
Alice
repeated.

Woof
, the mutt snorted, unimpressed. Both
Alice
and
Squirrel began to laugh at the bizarre sight. Feeling as if his acts of bravery
hadn’t been acknowledged with the correct amount of respectfulness, Scratch
padded away, his furry chin held high in smug self-righteousness.

“Hey, Scratch, come back!
Don’t be like that,” Squirrel chuckled.

Alice
said, “I mean it, Squirrel. You’re my hero.” She bent
forwards and placed at kiss on his ruddy cheek.

“Gee ...” was all Squirrel
could utter.

“We’d better get out of
here,”
Alice
said. “There may be more of them.”

“You’re right.”

They pulled themselves into
the truck, where they found Scratch curled up inside, feigning sleep.

“He saved my life. You both
did,”
Alice
said, then tickled the mutt under his chin.

Scratch continued to fake
sleep, but once
Alice
had withdrawn her hand, he opened one eye, wagged his
tail once, and then returned to his bogus slumber.

“We should be getting back.
I’ve had enough excitement for one day,”
Alice
said.

“Me too,” Squirrel agreed.

Alice
shifted into first gear and pulled away. She turned
the truck in a tight arc, then popped the gears into second and began to climb
the steep hill. She’d made it halfway towards the crest of the hill before one
of the front tyres suffered a blow-out. The torn rubber released a sudden wheeze
of pressurised air.

“Shit!”
Alice
exclaimed. The truck began to sag on the passenger’s side, which slowed them
down. “
Tyre
’s blown out.”

“Oh God …” Squirrel moaned.

“Don’t worry, there’s a spare
in the back,”
Alice
told him.