The Human-Undead War Trilogy (Book 1): Dark Intentions (3 page)

“Think Greg’s ready for us this late in the day?”

“Should be. He practically lives here.” Greg was a trusted employee and a versatile program designer. He was the head of programming operations, a quiet old man who was generally quaint in spite of the oftentimes cruel exercises he oversaw daily. Should there be a live prisoner involved, he was also at the ready to hit the sunroof button and security alarms.  “We’ll give you fifteen minutes. If it gets too tough, signal us.”

“You’ll be awed by a master at work,” Ruby chided. She turned away and entered the training room.

Brian slid his card through the scanner for the control room. Several loud clicks echoed in the observation room, followed by a hiss of pressurized air as locks released.

He placed his folders and Ruby’s notes on the main computer desk. A steaming coffee cup sat next to the monitor, but Greg wasn’t there. Looks like it’s up to me this time. Brian sighed and sat in the chair, filing through multi-colored disks stacked on the desk to find an appropriate theme for the evening. He decided on the jungle scene, then inserted the disk into the drive. He started the program, pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, and waited while automatic diagnostics tests ran. Once everything was set, he flipped the security switches on the control board to his right. 

Brian stood and strolled to the vast window overlooking the training room. He was relaxed in this environment, which looked like a spaceship from a cheap sci-fi movie. There was a vast array of different colored knobs and levers, lights and buttons. Small printed words above each one allowed even novices to find the right one at the right moment. Occasional beeps and whirs broke the silence as machines and monitors hummed to life.

The training room had been rearranged. Rather than the usual meadow-like clearing, the Styrofoam pillars, trees, and stones were now arranged in the design of a labyrinthine maze. The only clear spot was in the center, where a cage rose from the floor on high-powered hydraulics. Ruby had picked her way through the faux scenery and crouched beneath a stand of fake pine. She locked eyes with Brian and waved a finger in a circular motion.

Brian first hit the blue button on the panel next to the window, activating the intercom system. He then punched a large black button next to it. Sirens wailed and flashes of red light lit up the training room. The locks released on the cage in the center.

In the dim light, the hologram’s features were clear: wild, long black hair; alert, yellow eyes darting left and right; square nose and chin; high-school age; an unmistakable smirk of satisfaction etched upon its face. The hologram bellowed a gleeful, high-pitched laugh that drowned out the sounds of the jungle. 

“You’ve outdone yourself this time, Greg,” Brian muttered. The hologram seemed familiar, though Brian was certain Greg had made thousands of unique characters in order to spruce up the program.

The Undead hologram stepped out of confinement, sniffing the air like a dog at hunt. Then there was a blur of movement and Brian lost sight of it behind a group of Styrofoam boulders.

Brian frowned. He’d never seen a vampire move so quickly in reality. Surely no programmer could make one move like this. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong. And the hair—He’d seen that shock of black, wild hair before. But where?

Ruby meandered toward the center, her Ashmore held before her. She was comfortable, tactical, never in plain view yet aware of her destination. She circled around to the group of boulders where the creature had disappeared.

A few more blurs of movement had Ruby sprinting for a pillar. She stumbled over a small bush in her haste and rolled onto her back, the crossbow still clutched to her chest, finger on the trigger. Sweat glistened on her forehead. She crawled backward on her elbows like a crab, head swiveling every which way as the blurs of motion passed her by. 

She got to the pillar and stood. The blurs tightened around her position. Ruby suddenly gripped her leg and dropped her crossbow. When she pulled her hand away, crimson blood dripped from a large gash on her upper thigh.

Brian caught sight of the wild black hair and recognition flooded through him: The supposed jittery intern they’d passed in the hallway, before ascending the stairs. And then he knew they were dealing with a real vampire, not some fancy hologram. 

He darted to the computer and ended the program. The wild cries of jungle animals ceased and the apparitions of trees disappeared, leaving only the Styrofoam obstacles. He flipped the emergency switch but nothing happened. He punched the sunroof button.

It didn’t open, either.

Was that how the vampire had gotten through the wall surrounding the URC compound? Some kind of electrical malfunction?

Shit. “Ruby, I’m coming!” he cried, hoping the intercom was still active.

Chapter 4

Brian sprinted into the training room, jumping down the short flight of stairs at the entrance. He landed, lurched forward on his stocky frame, and dusted a paper-light Styrofoam boulder out of his path, his mind screaming. Save Ruby! He’d never been the heroic type, but watching her succumb to an ambush had stirred within him emotions he’d never felt before. 

He entered the clearing where he’d last sighted the stand-off and stopped in his tracks. Ruby’s fallen Ashmore skittered past his feet on the faux-marble floor, an arrow still notched in it, the safety latch disarmed.

The vampire loomed over Ruby fifteen feet away, where she lay next to the pillar she’d sought refuge against. A pool of blood surrounded her unmoving body. Brian’s heart sank and a feeling of dread clutched at his stomach. He hadn’t reacted quickly enough to save her.

But then she lifted her head. Her jaw clenched and her eyebrows knitted together. The strength and resolve etched onto her anguished face buried Brian’s grief. He reached into his lab-coat, withdrew his miniature semi-automatic crossbow, threw the safety latch, and aimed at the back of the assailant’s head. 

His finger lingered on the trigger. This wasn’t how he dealt with erratic situations, but there was a first time for everything. Pushing aside the regrets he knew he’d feel later, he pulled the trigger.

The vampire didn’t move. Brian averted his gaze, waiting for the inevitable squishing and crunching sounds as it pierced the creature’s skull. 

A hollow cackle boomed in the gigantic titanium-alloy-plated room. “You’ve never killed a vampire before, have you, Koltz?” the vampire asked, craning its neck around to scoff at Brian. He reached to the back of his head and pulled out the arrow, dropping it to the floor without uttering a grunt.

He knows my name? Brian remanded himself for his memory lapse regarding his target. He aimed at the chest of the wild-haired vampire and pulled the trigger twice.

The vampire leaned to the left and snapped up his right arm, his back still to Brian. Whirling around, he bared ivory fangs and bowed his head. Yellow eyes regarded Brian. A wide smile split crusty, curled lips as the vampire held forth his hand.

Both wooden arrows lay still in his open palm.

“Tsk, tsk, Koltz. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” the vampire said, cracking the arrows in half. He bounded into the air and bowled Brian over. He settled upon Brian’s chest, digging deep. Brian’s shirt dampened as tissue ripped open. 

“Even now, there are plans in motion you could never guess,” the vampire hissed.

The vampire had him pinned. Brian almost gave into despair again before catching a glimpse of movement over the attacker’s shoulder. 

Ruby screamed and jumped on the vampire’s back. She wrapped her legs around his waist, then slid a forearm under his chin and pulled inward. They tumbled backward. A loud rush of air escaped Ruby. 

Brian climbed to his feet, gasping. Ignoring the searing pain in his chest, he scooped up Ruby’s fallen Ashmore and stepped toward the struggling duo. He pointed the notched arrow at the vampire’s chest, above the heart.

The URC complex was impossible to break into and the vampire was bold indeed to come strolling in. Unless he worked for someone who had access. “How’d you get in here?”

The vampire stopped prying himself from Ruby’s grasp. “That’s a question that will remain unanswered. For now.”

“Who’re you working for?”

“Someone you’ll learn to bow and cater to like the dog you are, Homo sapiens.”

Before Brian could react, the vampire moved in a blur. Something sharp jabbed Brian’s lower back, and he then stared in awe at his empty hands. Ruby was in front of him, alone.

A harsh whisper came from behind. “It’s time to see what you’re truly made of, Brian Koltz.”

The sunroof slid open above, metal grating on metal. Brian peered through the large window and into the observation room. No one was inside. A remote control? A delayed timer, perhaps? But only Greg would’ve had the clearance to do such a modification. 

Greg! Brian felt numb. Had Greg betrayed them? 

There was a loud crack, then a sharp pain at the base of his neck. A quick, hushed whimper escaped Ruby. 

Brian fell to his back beneath the skylight. The rising moon twinkled as the world slipped into darkness.

***

Keith drummed his fingers on his oak desk. Each thump coincided with the passing seconds as he waited for President Strajowskie to appear on his blank computer screen. He’d been on hold for an hour. Was the president blowing him off? It was uncharacteristic yet not unexpected. Strajowskie would be wary about speaking to him after what had transpired at the meeting earlier.

But Keith had no choice. He had to persuade the president to sanction Brian’s experiment. He would stay on hold until the following morning if need be. I owe it to Brian. 

His major in Cartography would never have landed him a decent job. Prior to 2041, all known land masses had been mapped out and documented. Previously undiscovered islands had become tourist attractions. Jungles were meticulously plotted and labeled into sectors. The frozen frontiers at either pole had been fleshed out once and for all. 

His degree had meant nothing to a world that knew everything about itself. Until vampires were discovered and the Undead Relations Committee was established, that is. 

Strajowskie had appointed Brian to head up the newly founded organization and diverted billions of dollars into the facility before the economy collapsed. Then he’d allowed Brian free rein to choose his fellow employees. As the world changed, Brian requested Keith’s assistance in mapping out the altered lands. 

Keith hadn’t hesitated. His luxurious three-story condo was just blocks away from the URC. He had every technology a man could get his hands on. His vintage 2007 Jaguar XKR had been bought and paid for by the URC. Free dental, access to top-notch physicians, and almost anything he desired was all part of the package.

Yes, he owed it to Brian. And Strajowskie owed him a favor or two as well.

The computer screen flickered and the president’s face appeared, lined with annoyance. “This had better be good, Manera. I don’t know why you didn’t just stop me in the halls earlier.”

Keith wanted to quip about Strajowskie’s legion of security guards that made it nigh impossible to get within twenty feet of him, but thought better of it. It had always fascinated him that the president would have so many bodyguards wherever he went, even when he was at the URC.

“Pardon me if this is a bad time, Mr. President.”

“We haven’t even crossed the Arizona border yet. Talk.”

“Today’s meeting was…atrocious. You must consider giving Brian’s idea a chance.” He held his breath for a rebuttal but there wasn’t one. Keith jumped right back in. “He knows what he’s doing, Mr. President. His scientific work speaks for itself. The platelet mushroom will work.”

“No means no. How many times must I tell you, Manera?”

Keith stood, grabbed the microphone off his desk, and turned his back to the president. “I owe it to him to see his creation come to life.”

“And what? You feel that I owe you too?” Strajowskie sighed. “I can’t dispute that your idea to move inland turned the tide of the war, but you’re overstepping your boundaries and treading on dangerous territory by presuming to tell me what I should allow.”

Keith was glad Strajowskie at least acknowledged that his suggestion had been worthwhile. The Undead had swept through the eastern states unchallenged and sent the remaining untransformed citizens of the United States packing west, leaving behind a polluted, barren, stench-ridden land void of life, including foliage and animals. After the White House had been relocated to California, Keith had studied the lands for months to find a perfect battlefield for the Army. The rolling hills of Kansas formed an ideal strategic point for them. It was in the center of the country, with few mountains, abundant water sources, and down-to-earth farmers who weren’t afraid to defend their lands. He’d presented his findings to Strajowskie, and the president had wasted no time reassembling the masses. Within a day of the suggestion, the Army had formed an impenetrable line from Minnesota to Louisiana, then stretched those lines across the borders to the north and south. 

The war had been at a stand-still in the United States for over a year thanks to that simple assessment of the lands.

Keith wheeled around, glaring at Strajowskie’s face on the screen. “Do you really believe they’ll continue to feed on us when there’s an alternate source? We all know human blood is their caveat and animal blood weakens them over time. If they seek life-long survival, eradicating humankind would be ludicrous. They need us. They can’t survive without us. And if we give them something else to feed off of, then we’ll survive too.”

“I wish not to play games with such abhorrent creatures. So what if we create an alternate source? Then we stave off the war for what, a century or two? What happens when another lunatic like Barnaby takes over and decides to kill us once and for all? Without us, and with this mushroom, they’ll survive, no matter what. Odds are, once they don’t need us anymore, they’ll destroy us. I’m not taking that chance with my people.”

“Brian’s a brilliant scientist. Do you doubt his intentions? Do you think that he hasn’t pondered these possibilities and figured out the only solution that’s beneficial to all?”

Strajowskie sighed through his nose. “Brian is a genius, and without him we’d probably already be extinct. Though his intentions are good, I believe he’s underestimating the futility in seeking peace with such mongrels.”

Keith set the microphone back on the desk and sat down. “Do you fear the volunteer aspect of the experiment?”

Strajowskie grunted. “Offering a willing human to become the first engine for this creation is ridiculous, especially when I’m certain the Undead will just continue to kill us anyway. Voluntary death is not something I will condone.”

Why did morality play such an important role in modern society, where beliefs and survival had become contorted by a reality thought never to exist? The president allowed perverted experiments to be conducted on Undead but still wanted to retain compassion for human rights. How hypocritical. Keith shrugged. “The public doesn’t need to know if it was against someone’s will.”

“Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind. But to allow some prison scum or vigilante to become a hero should the experiment prove successful? People would go ape-shit.”

Keith furrowed his brow. Sweat glistened on Strajowskie’s forehead. Something wasn’t right. Strajowskie had been preoccupied from the onset of their conversation. Keith recalled that the jet hadn’t crossed the Arizona border. Something had kept Strajowskie forty minutes behind schedule. He acted on a whim. “Everything all right?”

Strajowskie bit his lip but didn’t respond.

Keith’s stomach churned. Was the president under siege? Had some Undead been cunning enough to commandeer the jet? “Mr. President, is there something I should know that you can’t tell me right now?”

Strajowskie closed his eyes and turned away. “We’ve known each other a mere seven years, and you can read me better than my wife can.”

Keith forced a smile. 

“I’m just a bit preoccupied.” Strajowskie frowned, clasping his hands. He drew in a breath. “I received some intelligence reports that could turn the tide of the war in their favor.”

Keith held his tongue. People the world over knew U.S. Intelligence gathering was notorious for being faulty. Given the past, why would Strajowskie believe any such reports? “Care to share?”

“Can’t. It’s Top-Secret Classified information, Manera.”

“Must be important.”

“More important than anything else right now.”

“More important than the fate of the world?”

“That’s it, Manera!” Strajowskie slammed his fist down. The sound reverberated in Keith’s room. “All these talks of peace are whims of a fantasy world. I live in the real world, where war reigns supreme, and I don’t have time to sit here and listen to your pathetic ramblings about a goddamned mushroom that was created by accident. This is the last time I want to hear anything about it. Understand?”

Keith clenched his jaw. “Yes, sir.”

The computer screen went blank, then flashed the message CONNECTION TERMINATED. 

“Asshole.” Keith shut the laptop, stood, and paced back and forth in his room. Strajowskie was such an ignorant, arrogant prick. War begat war—Didn’t he realize that? Sometimes it was pointless dealing with a politician whose only concern was to save face with the human race. Keith didn’t know why he still attempted to talk sense into him. 

Fighting back tears of frustration, he exited the office, slamming the door so hard that his ears rang for several seconds. He passed through the hallways and trudged upstairs to the training room.

He didn’t want to look Brian in the eyes and tell him that he’d failed again.

But someone had to be the harbinger of bad news.