Antithesis: The Vampire Alliance Book Three - FIRST DRAFT COMPLETED

Antithesis Chapter 13: Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan May 2013

Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan, May 2013

Gail screams, which is a reaction I would quite like to have. That’s not possible as the second wave of nausea grips my stomach. My vision swims and I grow dizzy as images and feelings assault my consciousness, showing me how the creatures before us came to be. While I sway on the spot, horrified and dazed, I may as well not be in the vault at all. As far as I’m concerned I’m no longer in the vault. My identity fades, the life of Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan waning as another consciousness invades me, occupies me, turns me into someone else.

Chained to one of the cold metal tables in one of the laboratories I find I’m completely unable to fight, unable to move at all, in fact. The burn speeding through my circulatory system is so intense I could scream with it but my lips won’t open, not yet, my vocal chords won’t make a sound and I can’t voice my anguish. Cannulas and tubes pierce my body as the hazy spectres of scientists use their twisted, whirring, version of a dialysis machine to draw out my coagulated blood. Rather than purify it, they contaminate it. As the blood is forced through their invention something else filters into it, something that burns as it contaminates my body further with each pint they force back into me.

I don’t understand where I am. What happened to me? Why can’t I move?

I died. I had died. I remember now. The Enforcers had come in the day, as we slept, to arrest my husband and I as traitors. We’d never said a thing against the Senate, ever, we were too afraid to.  Our innocence didn’t matter to them, no one’s innocence ever mattered to them. They had come, they had arrested us and separated us and taken me to a lonely cell.

Later Scientists had come, injecting me with some substance before the executioner had arrived with his sword. That blasted sword. It had been one of the ceremonial weapons used to execute any who stood against the corruption in our government. It had killed so many before me; from Chiefs to children, no one is safe. It killed me and now I’m here, but where’s here? What’s happening to me?

I’m so thirsty now, from the blood loss caused by my execution and because I haven’t fed in what? Days? Weeks? I need fresh blood. I need to feed. Will they feed me when they’ve done experimenting on me? How am I aware? How am I awake? What are they doing to me?

Beside me a monitor beeps, once, twice, three times, counting my returning heartbeat. It speeds up and I can feel the organ racing in my chest so fast, too fast. Then it comes, the one, long, tone, the unbelievable warning that my heart has failed and I have died again. I’ve died?

Thoughts grow fuzzy.

Who am I?

Where am I?

I want...

Want...

Hungry.

My body jerks and spasms uncontrollably and around me I can hear shouting. “It’s happening again!” They yell, but I can’t comprehend their words. I open my mouth to scream, but only a groan of pain, of hunger and misery escapes my lips.

Hungry.

The sensation claws at my stomach until I have only one need, only one desire. I must eat, I must feed, I must sate this growing agony before it devours me. The scientists run, dodging out of the door as I break free of my restraints. It doesn’t matter though as there is another man here, chained inside a metal box, I can feed on him.

He speaks but the stream of noises mean nothing to me. He pleads as I stumble towards him, my legs stiff from spending so much time immobile, dead. The man screams as I lunge for him, as I tear at him with my teeth, with my nails, with fingers which are curled into claws. His blood wells as my teeth drive through his skin and into muscle, and I am relieved.

It only lasts a moment, the brief half-second when I am free of the agonizing pain of hunger.  Then it returns and I bite again. Tearing chunks from the flesh of the still screaming man I chew each mouthful, determined to find every drop of blood, every last particle of his life. I bite and chew and bite and chew, devouring and devouring until the man falls silent. Blinking once I realise my meal has died, some old instinct tells me to stop now, but I can’t. Pausing is impossible and so I begin over, bite and chew, bite and chew, until there is nothing left of the person, the vaguely familiar person, but bones and hair.

Spinning, I turn towards the door of the metal box, only to find it’s shut behind me and I’m trapped, hungry and alone. Desperately I lick at the blood coating my hands and arms. I suck at the fabric of the hospital gown I’m wearing as I try to feed on the blood and gore that coats me.

I need more.

More.

Hungry.

Hungry.

That’s all those decomposing creatures are, hunger and pain. Even the Senate’s scientists fear them. We’re in danger, I realise, as my awareness focuses once again on my own existence.

“Evie! Eve! Evie!” Tul and Rob are both yelling my name, shaking me as they try to rouse me from my vision snared stupor. “Eve, honey, come back.”

“Close the door,” I repeat, finally managing to focus on the one command I need Craig to obey.

He’s still dazed though, astounded and horrified. Craig doesn’t move, even as the shuffling dead woman trips again, falling out of the door towards him. He stares at her in mute surprise as she forces herself up onto her hands and knees. Then she lunges forward.

Craig screams as her teeth break his skin, as she gnaws on his leg and her fingers wrap, vice like, around the limb. It takes all of his strength to pull away from her, to stumble back towards us. Other corpses follow the female from the vault, their groans growing more desperate as the scent of blood fills the air.

“Run,” I order, knowing that we have no hope of forcing the creatures back into their prison now.

Finally, the others comply. As one we turn, charging towards the exit and a door we could at least lock closed. Rachel is coming towards us though, fear in her wide eyes even before she sees the things trailing in our wake. “The Palatinus are coming,” she yelps, “and Enforcers, lots of them.”

“It doesn’t matter, just run,” my growled answer is frantic.

“Eve!” Craig’s voice is strangled, panic filled as he limps after me on a leg which isn’t healing. He should be healing. His heart beat speeds up and at first I think it is in fear. Then he collapses, his eyes rolling in his head as his body jerks and spasms, changing, dying, as his heart forces the contamination from his wound around his body.

Tul turns, reaching for his friend but I pull him away. “No,” I hiss a warning, “it’s too late. He’s one of them.”

For a moment I think Tul will fight, that he’ll go back for Craig, but he remembers what happened the last time he had ignored my warnings. He follows me towards our escape without further rebellion.

Unfortunately this isn’t a movie. When the reanimated corpse which had once been Craig stands again he neither shuffles nor shambles nor struggles to make his limbs function. Decay hasn’t set in yet and his body is just as strong and fast as it had been before he died. More so, maybe. The fragrance of living flesh calls to him as compellingly as it does to those decomposing, staggering, things behind him. With hunger twisting his face into a pained and desperate mask, the thing that had been Craig charges after us.

I could easily out run him. So could Rob and Tul. Unfortunately Gail and Rachel don’t have our speed and obligation slows me when they fall behind. Holding back, I want to help them as much as I can, if necessary. I pray it isn’t necessary. When we finally hurl ourselves through the door relief floods me. It’s only a brief reprieve as I come face to face with the ranks of armed Palatinus and Enforcers waiting for us outside the vault. Shit. Out of the frying pan...

“Stop!” The leader yells, his sword already drawn.

“Close the doors!” I scream, desperately reaching for the key pad.

Enforcers leap at me, they’ll never stop me but their sheer numbers certainly slow me down. Craig careers out of the doors before I get anywhere near the controls.
That’s when the chaos really begins.

Gail shrieks, a high pitched, desperate, scream which will haunt me forever as Craig’s mouth locks on her shoulder.  Rob tugs him off her, tearing a chunk from her as Craig refuses to unclamp his jaw. It’s already too late though, within seconds a spasm ripples through Gail’s limbs and then she too is lost.

“Run!” I yell again, so frantic now that I begin to push Enforcers down the corridor too, urging them to flee. Perhaps it’s my desperation to make everyone run that causes our enemies to pause, to consider the curiousness of my behaviour and the situation. 

The Enforcers eyes go wide with fear as the first of the stinking, shuffling, dead, step out behind Craig and Gail. They descend on us, biting and clawing at Enforcers and Paladins as savagely as the first had attacked Craig.

Yet the undead all but ignore me. Yes, they come towards me, but as they inhale my scent they turn away, uninterested. Using whatever advantage has been granted I push through the crowd of turned and turning Senate thugs. Grabbing Rob I pull him from the crowd along with me, pleased to see Tul already beyond the writhing, fighting, screaming and groaning mass of body parts.

“Rachel fell but we’re immune, they don’t want us.” Tul whispers, his eyes trained on the mayhem beside us. “Why?”

“We’re Strix,” I answer simply, “we are what they were meant to be.” Rob and Tul both glance at me, but all I murmur is, “Later. We need to go.”

We charge down the corridor, heading for our escape. When I reach the first set of double doors I lunge for the keypad, unlocking the doors so we can push through them. I make certain to relock the doors behind us, terrified that the creatures might escape. “Gary can’t be allowed to shut everything down; he must not follow the agreed emergency plan.”

Sensing my sudden dread Rob pauses, “Why?”

“In event of an emergency he was going to open all of the doors, all of them. If we can walk out of the front door then so can they!” Pointing back the way we had come I indicate towards the growing mass of dead people behind me. Some are inanimately dead, torn limb from limb and their meat devoured. Many, though, are animate. Many of the corpses behind us are walking, running, hunting. There must be twice as many of them now that the Paladins and Enforcers have been converted too.

“They’ll get into the living quarters of the Paladins, they’ll get to the scientists, they’ll get out into the street to feed on humans, vampires, everyone!”

Without comment, Tul pulls his phone from his pocket, switching it on again and dialling Johan. I can hear the dialling tone and then Johan’s voice, surprised that we’re breaking communication silence. “Contact Gary,” Tul demands urgently, “don’t let him unlock the doors. Get him to lock any doors which are currently unlocked, make him do it for all areas.”

“You’re out?” Johan wants to know.

“No, but we’ll find our own way out. You need to seal this facility off; there are things down here that can’t be allowed to escape.”

The phone line crackles for a moment before Johan asks worriedly, “Why? What can’t be allowed to escape?”

Tul shakes his head and I see the look in his eyes, the look that displays his own disbelief at what he’s about to say, “Zombies, for want of a better word. We’ve opened a box of zombies and everyone in here who isn’t a Strix is dying, or converting. They can’t be allowed to escape.”

“You are joking?” Our leader asks and I have no doubt the question is serious, it’s a ridiculous notion. If I hadn’t just witnessed what I’d seen I wouldn’t believe it either.

Taking the phone from Tul I press it to my ear. “They’re the botched precursor to the Paladins. They are the real mark ones, if you will. Johan, you need to lock this place down. We’re almost back at the labs and we can get out the way we got in, as planned. There’s still ten minutes until the bombs detonate so I can plant the last one in the tunnel we use to escape, hopefully it’ll seal it off too. The doors are a priority though, even over our lives. You must seal them.”

“What happens if I leave you an escape route?” Johan asks.

“Hunger, death, destruction, chaos.” I tell him, praying he’ll listen, “If these things escape it will be catastrophic for everyone. You must get Gary to seal this place shut.”

“Alright,” he answers at last and I finally see the benefit of being a seer, at least when people listen. “Get out quickly,” he adds and I’m grateful for his concern.

He doesn’t need to tell us twice. Being Strix ensures we can run, fast and silent. We flee as though the denizens of Hell are chasing us down. Unhindered, we pass the labs and enter the store room. We pass the capsules filled with bodies but don’t pause. Upon entering the plant room and climbing back into the darkness of the tunnels, I hesitate just long enough to arm the final explosive and I pray it will collapse and seal the tunnel. Then we squirm back through the loathsome maze of concrete, steel, intumescent paint and ductwork.

We’re in the metro tunnels when the timer on my watch beeps to say the detonations will have taken place. I switch off the alarm wordlessly, still in a state of disbelief at just how wrong our mission had gone. A silent prayer repeats over and over in my head, “Please make sure Gary’s sealed them in. Please, please make sure Gary’s locked the doors.”