30 Days of Night: Light of Day (27 page)

“I’m not a policeman,” Tenko said. “I don’t set police procedure, I simply try to ensure that the men and women of law enforcement have the resources they need and the leeway to take the measures that need to be taken.”

“If you don’t let us handle this our way,” Marina insisted, “then you’ll be sentencing a bunch of your officers to their deaths. How will you feel about that?”

Tenko wiped his face again, blinked at her. “I suggest you call your boss.”

“I’m going to do just that,” she said. “While I do, I don’t want you to move an inch.” She turned to Monte. “If this guy tries to go anywhere, break his knees. But quietly.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Monte said. He was smiling again. Marina was glad that particular smile wasn’t directed her way, but she was glad to see that Tenko looked uncomfortable about it. She went into the van to call Kleefeld—to beg, if necessary. She needed to get this settled, and it had to be done now.

W
ATCHING
R
OCCO AND
S
HILOH
outdoors had encouraged the other
nosferatu,
so they mobbed around Larry and Walker to get their shots. Rocco brought order, not by raising his voice but by lowering it to a near whisper. The vampires hushed to hear what he had to say, and they lined up where he told them to. Once that was settled, filling the syringes and getting everybody injected took no time at all.

Then it was Walker’s turn. “After he does this,” Rocco said, “we can all go outside. But this guy helped us, and apparently he’s been trying to join us for a long time. Let’s give him the respect and attention he deserves.”

Rocco’s den mates gathered in a circle around them. Larry felt a surprising pressure, as if he was on stage and couldn’t risk getting a line wrong or missing a cue. He approached Walker, who once again tilted his head back, exposing his pale, thick neck. It was impossible to say which was more nervous, the one who had never turned another human being, or the one so desperate to forsake his humanity.

The flesh of Walker’s neck reminded Larry of pork rinds, a treat he hadn’t even thought about once since
waking up dead. But Walker had that same greasy, salty sweetness. He trembled in Larry’s grasp, flinching away from his long, probing tongue. A blue vein throbbed in Walker’s temple, and Larry was tempted to pluck it out and pop it in his mouth.

But he had a purpose, and killing Walker outright wouldn’t further it.

Although he had never turned anyone, he thought he knew how to do it. Bite him, but don’t drain him. Make sure plenty of his own bodily fluids mixed with Walker’s. That was the key; he had to transfer the Immortal Cell into Walker’s body. Walker would die, but not for long. The cell’s properties would bring the body back to life—only better. A new, improved Walker would be the result.

“You’re sure about this?” Larry asked. Even as the words escaped his lips, in a kind of hiss, he knew it was too late. He couldn’t resist any longer. He opened his mouth, held tightly to Walker’s shoulder and arm, and let his teeth close on Walker’s neck.

That pork rind flavor sprang into his mouth as though he had put one on his tongue. Then he tore into meatier flesh and muscle, and blood rushed in, sweet and sticky. He let it flow for a minute, swallowing quickly, but even so some escaped his mouth and ran down his chin, hot and wet.

Walker shuddered and moaned and tried to yank away, but Larry’s grip on him was too firm. Walker thrashed and kicked. After a short while he settled
down, then went limp. Larry lowered him gently to the ground.

The vampires from New York crowded around, and Rocco bent over to watch.

“How long should it take?” Larry asked him.

“It takes a while,” Rocco said. “The fluids have to inter—”

Walker interrupted him by spasming furiously, spinning across the floor. Larry and Rocco jumped away; other
nosferatu
cried out in alarm.

“Is he supposed to do that?” Larry asked.

“No way!” Angel said. “That’s messed up!”

Larry felt panic setting in. “What do I do?”

“I don’t know!” Shiloh cried. “That’s totally jacked up!”

Larry crouched beside the thrashing Walker, put a hand out to try to calm the young man. He snatched it back abruptly. “He’s burning!”

“Our kind don’t get fevers,” someone said.

“Not a fever—it’s like he’s on fire!”

“This is bad,” Goldie remarked. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s bad.”

“None of you have ever seen this?” Larry asked desperately.

No one answered in the affirmative. Walker’s uncontrolled heaving and rolling around was slowing, but his skin was turning red, his eyes bulging from their sockets. Pink-tinged drool flowed from his mouth and bloody mucus from his nostrils. He whimpered with
pain, and his limbs shook like thin branches in heavy wind.

Larry had to do something. He was a scientist, not a medical doctor, and he didn’t know if there was a doctor in the world who could do something to save a life in this situation. He didn’t know if there was still any life to be saved. But all the vampires were looking on. Judging him. If he was to take his place at the forefront of a new vampiric society, he had to look competent.

Ignoring the heat radiating off Walker’s body, he placed both hands on the man, trying to hold him still. Walker’s back arched twice in quick succession, then a third time, and his head snapped to one side, tendons standing out like steel bars even through the fat of his neck.

Then Larry felt something bubbling, through Walker’s clothing, through his flesh. He yanked his hands away again. “He’s … I don’t know …”

Walker’s head whipped back and forth a couple of times, and then stopped with his mouth hanging open.

Smoke issued from his mouth. Larry passed a hand through it. Not smoke,
steam
. The whites of Walker’s eyes were bubbling now, boiling, Larry realized. They burst and bubbled like steam pots in a geothermal region. Underneath his skin, his blood was boiling, too. Larry could smell it, could see the undulations in Walker’s veins.

“Oh God,” Larry said. “Oh God, he’s … he’s
boiling
!”

“What do you mean?” Rocco asked.

“I don’t … I don’t know!” Blood seeped through Walker’s pores now, the body still twitching but probably from the activity taking place inside it, not from any vestiges of life. As it reached open air, it sizzled and smoked. “I don’t know,” Larry said again. “Maybe something about the vitamin D entering his system so suddenly, inside my blood … it seems to be cooking him from the inside out.”

“So what you’re suggesting,” Rocco said, “is that now that you’ve given us that crap, none of us can ever turn anyone again?!”

“I … I’d have to do more studies. Research.”

“I’m not asking for scientific certainty, Larry. Your best guess.”

Larry looked at Walker. Boiling blood bubbled up from his ruined eye sockets, out his nose and mouth, pattered onto the floor from his ears. “I’d have to say yes, that’s right. I don’t know why it would be any different for you than for me. Or why Walker would have reacted differently than any other human.”

“So we can go in the sun, but we can never reproduce?” Shiloh asked.

“If I’m right, that’s correct.”

“And you spread this formula all over the internet?” Rocco asked. “Where anyone can see it?”

Larry had almost forgotten about that. “Yeah …”

“And you thought, what, that you were helping us?”

“That was the idea.”

“Only now you understand your mistake.”

“I guess so …”

“Spreading this around before it was completely tested. Getting so carried away that instead of helping us—your own kind—you’ve doomed us.”

“Yeah …”

“Not just us in this room, who you injected, but anyone else who has tried your formula. Even if we can let our kind know the risks, there will be some for whom it’s too late, others who will take the risk because they want to walk in the sun. To see—how did you put it?”

“The Light of Day.”

“Yes. The Light of Day. That’s right.”

“I know,” Larry said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, you guys. I didn’t … I just didn’t know.”

“But you understand something has to be done.”

“I’ll keep working. I’ll make it better. I—”

“No, you won’t,” Rocco said. He didn’t sound like he was negotiating.

Larry noticed that the vampire ring had tightened. He couldn’t see any of the walls through the legs and bodies surrounding him. Walker had stopped moving, only a little sizzling blood issuing from him. Larry rose, tried to straighten his spine and square his shoulders, but in this crowd he was still out of shape, heavy, old.

He didn’t stand a chance, and he knew it.

His knees were trembling so much he could barely stand.

Brick came first, lashing out with sharp claws that sliced through Larry’s shirt and chest. Then Nightmare, then Chip. Larry flopped from one to the other as the flesh was peeled from his body, the limbs torn off.

He had never thought of his newfound strength as a disadvantage before, but it took them a very long time to finally destroy him … time, and a great deal of pain.

“I
HOPE TO GOD
this is some sort of joke, Marina,” Kleefeld said.

“Do I sound like I’m laughing?”

“You don’t.”

“See, generally, jokes are meant to be funny. This isn’t funny in the least.”

“I’ve got that.” Kleefeld went silent. Marina had just told him what she had witnessed, and what she believed it indicated about the success of Larry Greenbarger’s “Light of Day” formula, and about the city of Chicago’s objections to a full-on assault. She figured it would take him a few minutes to process, so she didn’t rush him. Outside the van, Tenko paced, keeping a wary eye on Monte the whole time.

“You’re sure about what you saw,” Kleefeld said after a moment.

“Sure that three vampires walked around in the sun? And two of them were scary strong? Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Move in.”

“Really?”

“I don’t care about Chicago’s serial killer. If he’s
been draining bodies, he’s a vampire. If he’s a vampire, he’s our business anyway, not theirs.”

“Will you call someone who can drag this paper pusher off my ass so we don’t have to worry about him getting in the way?”

“I’ll call, but don’t wait for that. You have a green light to go.”

“Thanks, boss.” Marina ended the call. “Let’s hit it,” she announced.

“Really?” Kat asked.

“Really. Lock and load.” She grabbed her weapon and pushed the door open. “Come on, Monte. All hands. Sorry, Mr. Tenko, but we’ve got to cut our conversation short.”

“What? But … you can’t—”

“Can and are,” she said. “No time to chat, see you.”

He sputtered some more, sweat popping out all over his florid face, but Marina ignored him.

At least they didn’t have to worry about night vision goggles. Fighting vampires in broad daylight would be a new experience, but it would also make things easier for the humans in the long run. They raced across the street and into the motel’s parking lot. At one end of the block the SWAT team watched, waiting for instructions. At the other, the Chicago cop, Ziccaria, was running forward, awkwardly drawing a service automatic. Behind him, the other two detectives hurried to catch up.

Then she snapped her attention forward. That motel
room was the target and she couldn’t let anything distract her. Twenty yards from it, she stopped. Her team, disciplined and trained, stopped when she did. Every weapon was trained toward the room’s door and boarded-over window. The little buildings were angled in such a way that if there were a back door or window, anyone emerging from those would still be visible from here.

“Let’s give ’em a taste!” Marina shouted. The concrete walls would block much of their fire, but the door and the boards over the window wouldn’t stop any of it. She figured the walls would trap the bloodsuckers inside, and once her people started laying down fire, ricochets off the inner walls would do some of their work for them. She pointed at the window and opened fire.

Phosphorous rounds streaked into the board, shredding it like paper. The door offered no greater resistance. The interior lit up, revealing a room full of screeching, hissing bloodsuckers.

But they didn’t stay in the room.

They emerged, growling and slavering, straight into the full-throated assault of weapons
and
sunlight.

And they didn’t stop.

Alex was halfway across the street when the government agents halted, just past the edge of the parking lot. The agent in charge of the op, Marina something, shouted a command and opened fire on the building,
and the other agents followed suit. He could hear Larissa screaming at him to wait up. But he wanted Walker, and if there was a chance to get him out alive then he had to take it. Walker was his case, his killer, and he wanted the guy in Chicago custody.

It didn’t look like the Feds wanted
anyone
in custody. They laid down fire on the building as if they were in a war zone and the occupants were known hostiles. No warning, no announcement, just the roar of sudden gunfire splitting the morning peace.

Alex’s mouth went dry. His weapon sat in his hand, useless. The agents were riddling the room with some kind of tracer rounds. Fires were already breaking out inside.

The room’s occupants charged out, directly into the barrage. Alex saw one of those tracer rounds streak into a man’s neck and out the other side, spraying gore, but the guy was hardly slowed. He staggered a moment, shook his head angrily, then resumed his advance.

Which was when Alex realized that he wasn’t looking at human beings after all.

Humans didn’t have teeth like that, or claws, or long, distended jawlines. He didn’t know what these … these creatures were, but they resembled no humans he had ever seen.

Something touched his shoulder and he jumped, letting out a startled bark.

“What the hell are those things?” Larissa asked.

“I have no idea,” Alex said, trying to make his heart stop bouncing around in his chest. “But they’re not natural.”