Trail of Tears (10 page)

But no longer. He had been reborn with a new
purpose. He must gather his forces, find other nuclear plants and
purge his Lieutenants within their cleansing embrace. He would rule
a new breed of vampire. No longer would they be shackled to their
insatiable hunger and their fear of the light. Finally he could
wipe their filthy stain from the world. And now, nothing could stop
him.

* * *

“No word yet, sir,” the aide announced as
William Carter strode into the room.

“They can’t have fucking disappeared,”
Carter spat and studied the map on the wall. He had been living on
coffee and nervous energy ever since he had returned from the
crashed helicopter. His stomach still had not healed properly and
he lived in constant pain. He couldn’t take solid foods, every time
he tried his stomach knotted in pain, so he only consumed liquids.
Something hadn’t healed properly or his intestines had twisted as
he had stuffed them back into his stomach. Whatever the cause he
had another reason to hate Peter fucking Harris and his band of
merry bastards.

Harris was a weak fool. He had been at the
man’s mercy but, instead of killing him, he had lectured him about
the serum killing his human prisoners. Was it a lie, a way to make
guarding the humans more difficult? If the prisoners were free of
the serum it would certainly make Harris’ job as rescuer easier.
Was that what he was trying to do? But what if he was telling the
truth? He would happily let the serum kill all the humans but he
needed the prisoners to barter with the vampires. Could he take the
chance of letting them die?

His stomach grumbled again and he felt a
sharp pain spasm through him. He looked at the map again. It
covered the total extent of his territory, taking into account the
areas he had recently subsumed. The sheer size of his kingdom was
impressive but it hadn’t come without its problems. The vampires
were his main worry. Von Kruger was mad and unpredictable. He had
been unable to find the bastard’s lair but he still had patrols out
looking. Von Kruger was as likely to attack in broad daylight as he
was to barter for human blood. It was entirely possible that the
explosion at the power plant had killed him but he couldn’t take
the chance. Despite their strained relationship there were still
negotiations going on throughout the territory with the vampires.
They still needed to feed after all and he didn’t want them
attacking his thralls until he was ready for them. No one had seen
Von Kruger since the explosion but that did not mean that he was
dead.

To this end he was prepared to provide food
for the vampires while he concentrated on other, more pressing
problems. His eyes strayed to the east and Nero’s Territory. Nero
was a recluse, true, but there was something wrong there. There
were too many attacks that centred around the border between what
used to be Michigan and Nero’s Ohio territory. He felt the urge to
storm the county after being humiliated by that thrall commander
but that would have to wait until he had less demands on his
resources.

The other surrounding states were getting
restless. They were scared of his recent successes and of his
growing empire. For a few weeks everything had been going his way.
Now that the power plant had blown up though he had lost a major
resource and he had shown weakness. All over his territory power
was reduced to emergency batteries and a few hydro generators. His
opposite numbers smelled weakness and already he had received
reports of thrall forces raiding along his borders. His resources
were stretched to their limit guarding his lines, guarding his
human cattle, and searching for vampire lairs within his
borders.

Flynn to the west in what used to be
Illinois and Warrick to the south in Kentucky were his main rivals
but neither had pressed their advantage as yet. How long would they
remain patient? He surveyed the map, looking at the unfamiliar
lines of the states. When the vampires had carved up America they
had not always followed state lines so each territory was similar
but not exactly the same as the map showed. The flow of the map was
jarred by thick black marker lines which slashed through the
previously meticulously drawn borders and gave the impression of a
child’s drawing rather than a strategic tool.

On top of that he had received reports that
Von Kruger, or at least his forces, had attacked vampire lairs
across his borders and the vampires were beginning to talk among
themselves about joining forces and attacking Von Kruger directly.
No one had heard from the Council in weeks so the vampire lords
were ready to take matters into their own hands. That’s all he
needed, a bloody vampire war in the skies above his territory.

Suddenly a thought struck him. If Harris was
telling the truth then humans would begin dying over the next few
weeks. If that was the case then it would throw the area into
chaos. Thrall commanders in neighbouring states would watch
helplessly as their charges died. Their vampire lords would not
accept excuses. If they could not feed on humans they would turn on
their own thralls and that would relieve the pressure on his
borders. A smile broke out on Carter’s face as he began to
calculate the worth of his human prisoners if he had the only
viable food supply for hundreds of miles.

And if he could discover the secret of
Harris’ special ammunition as well he could be King of the entire
country. He chuckled as he surveyed the map with new eyes.
This
could work out so well.
He had sent twelve patrols of elite
thralls to search for Harris and his camp and only one had not
returned their reports. He looked down at the area that had been
assigned to the missing team and he sneered.
It always comes
back to Nero’s territory, doesn’t it?

“Have all humans rounded up and placed into
large, easily guarded auditoriums, sport fields, anything that
doesn’t take too much guarding. Stop all serum injections.”

“All humans, in which district, sir,” his
aide asked in confusion.

“All of them, you fool.”

“But they will wake up, sir, they…”

“Of course they will; that’s why they are to
be rounded up.” The aide was about to speak again but Carter’s
raised eyebrow was enough to convince the aide to snap his mouth
closed and rush to obey the command.

“Oh, one more thing,” Carter called after
him and the aide slid to a hurried stop. “I want three hundred men
ready to leave with full armour and weapons within the hour.
Organise transport and Tanks. We’re going to visit an old friend.”
The aide disappeared and Carter traced a finger to the city where
the patrol had been assigned to search. He circled the city with a
red marker.

“I know where you are, Harris,” he muttered.
“This time nothing will stop me.”

Tomas Ventredi watched the vampire ahead of
him with growing trepidation. His powerful muscles pushed against
the wind keeping him aloft. There were twelve of them in the air
following Von Kruger. Ventredi had no idea where they were headed,
but that was nothing new with Von Kruger. Their leader had changed
so much. And not just physically. They had thought him slain when
he had not returned from the power plant. They had all seen the
explosion and the resulting cloud on the horizon. At first they had
panicked. Being a vampire in Von Kruger’s cabal had been
comfortable. There was no jostling for power, no in-fighting.
Nobody dared to challenge Von Kruger. It had always been that way.
Ventredi had followed Von Kruger since he had become a vampire
during Napoleon’s invasion of his native Russia. In all that time
Von Kruger had ruled with an iron fist and his followers had grown
used to his ways and their expectations had grown accordingly.

They followed their master without question.
The fact that he could be dead had hit the whole cabal like a blow
and they had huddled in their lair too confused to decide their
existence without their leader. As Ventredi thought back to their
reaction he was shamed. They were masters of the world, fearless
vampires that had followed Von Kruger without question when he had
ordered them to break from the shadows and take their destiny in
their hands. They had followed him across Europe and to this new
world as they spread their empire. They had obeyed when he had
ordered them to take the fight to other vampires. They had been
fearless, vicious, and loyal. But when Von Kruger had returned and
seen them wallowing in their fear of a world without their leader
he had spat his disgust at them.

The vampires had been shamed but so relieved
that their leader had returned. They did not question their leader
as he ranted at them. At times he seemed to be arguing with himself
but it was hard to tell as not all he said made sense. Von Kruger
had bathed in the fire of the salvation he had told them. His body
had been seared. He had been cleansed and emerged something new.
Certainly his hair and clothes had been seared from his body, as
had his eyelids and his nose and ears. His face was more skeletal,
his skin was so thin it was almost translucent and his eyes stared
from dark hollows. Yet they burned with a new intensity.
A
Madness?
he wondered and then chastised himself. Von Kruger’s
body was ribbed with hard muscles as before but the skin was
mottled, blackened, unhealthy looking. Though there was no denying
the power that emanated from him. Their leader had returned and
that was all that mattered.

Von Kruger claimed he could walk in daylight
and that the thirst no longer ruled him. It hadn’t stopped him from
gorging on a human when he returned, but he said that had been only
because he still enjoyed the blood, not that he was a slave to it.
He chose twelve of his cabal, the significance of the number was
not lost on any of his followers. Von Kruger had always harboured
illusions of godhood, and who could deny him? Had he not walked
into nuclear fire and emerged to lead them?

Ventredi was nervous though. Von Kruger was
leading his chosen twelve to the nuclear fires so they could join
him in his rebirth. The twelve of them would walk into the inferno
and join their leader in sweeping all others from their path. They
would rule the world he had told them. But at what cost? Ventredi
was concerned. He had followed Von Kruger so long now that he knew
his master’s moods. He had always been quick to anger, to act
rather than plan, and not to suffer fools. He had always been one
to lose himself in the bloodlust, to see no further than the
gratification of his desires—and yet he had survived centuries and
led his cabal from strength to strength. Who was he to question
such a leader? Ventredi had been a vampire far longer than he had
ever been human. But could they truly conquer the thirst? Was there
a hidden cost to this new existence—one that was yet to be
revealed?

Von Kruger had pulled further ahead and
Ventredi struggled to catch up. He looked across at the others and
saw that they were struggling as well. Von Kruger was stronger than
them. They would follow him to Hell, he knew. He only hoped that it
wouldn’t come to that.

Ahead he could see a swirling of snow and
fire. The cloud still hung over the site of the explosion and the
wind pulled at him as they approached. The air smelled wrong, stale
somehow, noxious. Goosebumps rose across his arms as snow mixed
with ash and caressed him as if welcoming him. His senses began to
cloud, his eyes could not penetrate the gloom, and his ears were
battered by the howl of the winds. Below him he could see a glowing
of the fires that still raged. They pulsed, like the heartbeat of
some huge beast. Suddenly Von Kruger was in front of him, his face
broken into a grin that looked terrifying with its sharp angles and
protrusions of bone. He motioned for them to follow him and he
swooped into the fires below. Ventredi paused only for a moment and
then dropped his shoulder and followed his master.

* * *

Von Kruger felt the heat across his body.
His skin prickled with the heat, tightening against the bone. His
eyes stung and his lungs burned but he welcomed the pain. He had
begun to feel lethargic in the last few hours. He had expended so
much energy during his rebirth and then had flown across his
territory, angling high towards the sun, and laughing at its beams.
He had flown far and hard before returning to his lair. The gorging
on the human still felt good to him, the warm blood filling his
stomach but he no longer had a thirst to quench. But he had begun
to grow tired.

Did he now need to sleep? After all these
years lying awake in some hovel as he hid from the Sun’s deadly
rays. Hours trapped in a sealed coffin, alone with just his
thoughts—his mind racing, plotting, and reliving past glories and
defeats. And all the time growing more and more impatient to get
back into the air, to tear flesh, to gorge on blood. It was enough
to drive anyone to the brink of madness. Were there any sane
ancient vampires he wondered? Did he now need sleep once again? Was
this the price he must pay for his rebirth? It would be glorious to
not to have to think all the time.

He could still easily outpace his minions,
but he felt as he had when the thirst demanded its due. This was
different though in that he did not feel hunger, only a heaviness
of the limbs. The fires replenished him though and returned to him
the awesome strength he had experienced since his rebirth. Maybe
this was what he needed, to return to the fires of his birth and
bathe in their pure embrace. He watched the chosen of his cabal
follow him into the flames. Their clothes disintegrated, their hair
burned away. They screamed and he revelled in the pain of their
rebirth. Every birth demanded a price of pain and blood.

They would become like him. The chosen. Gods
to rule the earth as he had been destined to do. He had no concerns
in making them like him. Their loyalty was assured. He laughed
again as he remembered their pathetic cowering when they thought
him slain. His twelve chosen were lions when ordered to fight. They
had terrorised humans across the known world and had followed him
in his new war with the Council and other vampires. But they were
sheep without him to command them. They would be the perfect elite
soldiers.