Vampire Apocalypse: Fallout (Book 3) (23 page)

He looked at
the cloud again before he turned and saw that the dust had spread
across the horizon like ink spreading through water, corrupting and
tainting the pure blue of the sky, and he shivered. If they didn’t
somehow manage to turn this tide back they would all be swept away.
He had to convince the others that it was time to fight for their
survival or risk losing everything.

Emma Logan nodded at Danny
Wilkins as she took over the tail and kept her eyes on the back of
the woman ahead of her. She saw Danny turn off down another
corridor after the man she had been following and disappear among
the people there. It was her task now to follow Patricia Lohan
until she was relieved or until the woman either went to her room
or her office.

There were
too many committee members to follow each one every day so they had
split them up into high, medium and low risk suspects based on
Father Reilly’s evaluations. The high risk would be followed every
day and they would swap over when they could to avoid someone
getting suspicious. The
y had found
walkie-talkies sometime ago but had soon grown tired of them after
the initial excitement. Now, however, they had become invaluable in
timing their swap-overs and keeping in touch. Danny was taking
after his father and had switched the three sets of walkie-talkies
they had to the same frequency, and now they could keep in contact
over short distances. They were hard on batteries but they had some
of the younger kids constantly searching old electronic shops for
batteries. The adults had taken all the larger batteries some time
ago but the smaller sizes that the talkies used were of no use to
them, so they were covered for now.

They had been following their
targets for two days now and nothing had happened out of the
ordinary. Some of the younger ones were already growing bored but
Emma knew the importance of this assignment and took it very
seriously, though she did agree that this assignment was far from
the exciting adventure they had all thought it would be.

Lohan continued on along the
corridor, as she had for the last few days. If she kept to her
routine, then she would reach her office where, if it was the same
as yesterday and the day before, she would stay until lunch. Then
she would go to the only eatery in the community where she would
have a sandwich and water and return to the office. Lohan seemed to
be a creature of habit who seemed to do and eat the same thing
every day, almost to the minute.
How could anyone be so
boring
, she thought as she followed the woman? God, she hadn’t
even met anyone for an illicit kiss, let alone sneak out and
contact the vampires. She would have to see if she could swap
targets with one of the others or she was liable to walk up to this
woman and tell her to get a life.

They came to
the corridor where she would turn right and Emma kept her distance
as Lohan drew level with her turn. But she didn’t turn. She kept
going. Emma felt her heart begin to thump in her chest and
increased her p
ace slightly in case the
woman…suddenly there were more people in the corridor than before
and she lost sight of Lohan in the rush. She tried to push through
the sea of people approaching her as she strained to see past them.
She felt panic grip her and cursed herself for being so lazy. She
should have been closer. God, the one time something happens and
she wasn’t ready for it.

Finally, she
made it through the throng of people and stumbled out into a
relatively clearer space. Her heart hammered in her chest and she
uttered a curse out loud that caused more than one of the people
around her to stare in shock at her. She ignored them as she broke
into a run, snapping her head down side corridors as she searched
frantically for her target.

Shit! Lohan had disappeared.

Kavanagh watched the humans from
across the square. There were nearly seven hundred of them packed
into a huge caged area that stood on the ruins of the homes and
businesses that had once stood here. There were other pens, with
just as many humans, but this was the only one that contained
humans who were still obviously free from the serum’s effects.

He had
watched over the last two days and
had
seen the humans go through shock and then despair. For some of them
that was as far as they got and they still remained huddled in
their own worlds, trapped now far more effectively than the serum
had ever managed. But it was the others who interested him
most.

For some in this pen the despair
had turned to anger and they had spent some time throwing
themselves futilely against their cages. The guards ignored them,
or sometimes stopped their patrols to laugh or spit at their
charges. They had not, however, noticed that a small number of
humans had slowly reigned in those who shouted themselves hoarse.
They did so quietly, taking these demented individuals to the side,
calming them and then using their growing numbers to calm the
others.

In the last
day or so Kavanagh had not seen anyone shout or cry or throw
themselves at their cages. Instead, the humans watched and noted
how their guards patrolled, how long they stood and talked among
themselves, and how cold it had to get for them to disappear into
their barracks.

Kavanagh was
amazed. He would never have noticed this change if he had not
purposely been looking at this cage. The guards had noticed nothing
and continued their patrols oblivious to the scheming eyes that
watched their every move and noted every characteristic. He should
report this, of course. But Kavanagh still did not know why this
cage had been taken off the serum and did not want others to know
of his knowledge. He did, however, know one thing for certain.
Anything that was not part of Von Richelieu’s plan could only
benefit his own strategies. It would suit him far better if he kept
this interesting development to himself for now.

He had
thought long and hard about this cage over the last two days. His
time in prison had taught Kavanagh many things, but patience had
been the hardest lesson of all. He had seen others go mad and
become so violent that they had to be constantly restrained because
they could not handle the hours of solitary confinement. He had
entered prison for a relatively innocuous crime; he had made the
mistake of agreeing to help rob a small local bank. ‘In and out,’
his friend, Carlos, had said. ‘Piece of cake,’ he had said. And it
had been until the stupid guard had decided to become a hero and
Carlos suddenly had a gun in his hand. Kavanagh still didn’t know
where Carlos had gotten it, and then there had been a loud
explosion and the guard and pitched forward and blood had quickly
pooled around him.

By the time
the guard had stopped twitching the sirens had begun blaring and
they had run. He hadn’t considered himself a criminal before that
day, sure he stood on the corners acting as muscle for the guys who
sold drugs, but he had never used them himself. His size made him
popular and the money was good. He had only agreed to the robbery
because he needed extra money because his brother had borrowed
money from someone he shouldn’t have. For the first time in his
life his size had worked against him and he had been easily
identified and arrested. He had kept quiet as to the identity of
his friends and the judge had sent him away for ten
years.

The early
years had been hard; he had to constantly prove that he was as
tough as he looked. He had survived being stabbed four times. It
was so easy to be a target in prison, far too easy for anyone to
walk past and stab a sharpened fork or tool into your guts before
you knew what was happening.

Kavanagh had
never killed anyone before he had gone to prison, but that had soon
changed. There had been a number of different factions inside the
prison and he had tried to ignore them all. That hadn’t worked
though and he had found that, to survive, he would need to throw in
with someone. After the third stabbing, he had finally realised
that he would also have to make a statement that there would be
consequences if he was attacked again or risk the next stabbing
being fatal.

After he had
recovered he had found the man who had stabbed him and broke both
of his arms in plain view of everyone. Just to be sure his message
was received; he had broken the man’s right arm at the elbow by
smashing it over his knee and breaking the joint. The man would
never use that arm again. Then he had calmly let the guards lead
him to solitary.

When he had
come out he had been stabbed again as soon as he had re-entered the
main populace. He had felt the knife drive deep into his side and
the pain fuelled his anger. He had lost control. He had not wanted
to rob the bank, had not wanted to work for the gangs in prison,
but his life had gone to shit a long time ago and it was time to
put a stop to others taking advantage. All of his frustrations had
exploded in that moment and he had reached over and wrenched the
man’s neck all the way around so that he was looking behind
him.

His rage had
still been burning through him, though, and his fingers tingled
with the urge to inflict pain. Someone should pay for all the pain
he had endured. He saw another man look down at the dead assassin
and his face went sheet white. The man looked at Kavanagh and
Kavanagh saw the sharpened metal tool in his hand. They had sent
two this time. The man began to run but Kavanagh had reached out
with such speed that he caught the man before he had gone two
steps. The man screamed in a high pitched yowl. Kavanagh could see
the guards struggling through the throngs of prisoners toward him.
The noise of the inmates rose as they packed around him, keeping
the guards back. He didn’t have much time. He had to do something
that would drive his message across.

He had tried
to remain aloof.
He had tried to serve
his time quietly, but it wasn’t working. He had to make a statement
and gain respect. He grabbed the struggling man and pulled him
closer. Just as the first of the guards finally managed to push his
way through the wall of prisoners, Kavanagh had taken the knife,
still imbedded in his side, and wrenched it free. He shouted in
pain and triumph and then ripped the sharp edge so viciously across
the man’s neck that he had nearly severed the man’s head from his
body.

The guards
had quickly surrounded him. He could see the fear in their eyes and
he had smiled. He dropped the dead assassin and the knife and he
had calmly made his way back to solitary. He had received another
fifteen years on his sentence but, when he had come out of
solitary, he had never been attacked again. Since then, he had
killed twelve more men who thought they could control him. Since
that fateful day, though, none of the deaths had been laid at his
door. By the time the vampires had come and offered the inmates the
opportunity to join them he had already risen high in the ranks
within the prison. When the vampires had made their pitch it was to
him that the others looked before they answered.

Now, he was
in a similar situation with Von Richelieu. The master vampire did
not want him here. If he had been just muscle then he would have
been welcomed, as indeed he had been initially. But Von Richelieu
had soon discovered that he also had a brain and ambition, and that
was something that threatened the master vampire. Kavanagh was no
longer happy to bow to others. He had worked his way to the top in
prison and intended to do the same here.

Von Richelieu
was planning something with these humans that involved the serum.
Kavanagh had noted that the humans who were taken from this cage
for bloodletting were brought now to a different building than the
others. Usually, he would have paid no mind to the process; he
really didn’t care how his blood arrived. But after his last
meeting with Von Richelieu, where he had lost his temper, he had
begun to pay much closer attention to anything that might impact on
him. He never lost his temper. It was his rule. Ever since that
time in prison. He knew that there was no profit in losing control.
It was always better to react after careful consideration, when
your tracks could be covered.

He had waited
and watched and he had seen that these humans were used to supply
Von Richelieu and a few of his aides with blood, but everyone else
was fed from the other cages. While this might not have been overly
significant on its own, Kavanagh had become convinced that this
explained why many of the vampires were becoming more and more
aggressive. There had to be something in the serum.

Kavanagh had
stopped drinking blood two days ago. He was starving, his stomach
felt like someone had driven a knife deep into him, and his hands
shook slightly. He felt very like he had when his body had first
made the change to become a vampire, as if he was changing again.
He had no idea what was going on but he did know that he could not
drink the serum-tainted blood. But he did have to eat soon or he
would die.

Von Richelieu
was playing a game, but one which was deadly serious. However, he
might just have underestimated the resilience of the humans, and
Kavanagh would have to keep an eye on them and ensure that they had
every opportunity to turn the tables on the master vampire. With a
little encouragement he might just be able to make these humans
work for him. He now had to convince his own followers to stop
using the tainted blood He would also have to secure his own supply
of clean blood.