Vampire Redemption Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Vampire Revolution

  Copyright

  VAMPIRE REDEMPTION

  by Phil Tucker

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks to William Pomerantz and Mara Green for wielding their red pens like machetes as they cut through the jungles of the first draft, and to my editor Shontrell Wade for her sterling work.

  I'd also like to give a huge shout out to Marissa Farrar, self-published author extraordinaire, who has been incredibly generous with both her advice and support. Thanks, Marissa!

  Chapter 1

  Selah stared out the shattered window and watched the slums below the hospital convulse. The sun had barely cleared the San Gabriel Mountains to the east, but its wash of thin, honey-colored light across the shacks and tents and pre-War buildings had galvanized the residents into flight, promising them thirteen hours of safety until the vampires arose once more. From where she stood, Selah watched families stumble out of their homes into the alleys and narrow streets, their pitiful belongings stuffed into pillowcases and trash bags. Fights were breaking out, and the sound of yells and children crying reached her distantly up on the sixth floor. She watched panic stalk bloody-handed through the crowds, and though her face showed no emotion, her right hand was white-knuckled where it gripped the window frame.

  She lifted her gaze and scanned the skies. Would they come? The clouds had been sooty crimson when she had alerted the military as to her location, and now, an hour later, they had lightened to tarnished yellows and creams. The sun had burned away the dawn fog and left behind a vast pall of smoke, and it was through this that she expected to see the helicopters approach. Would they come? Up until last night, until the vampires had broken the Peace Treaty, she had been the military's primary concern. Did they care about her now?

  Gunfire dragged her eyes back down to the streets. The throng below ducked down, dropping belongings and hugging babies and small children to their chests. A moment later, they were back up, pushing and shoving toward the interstate only a half mile away. And then where? Where did they hope to go? It had to be like this all around the Core. The San Bernardino and Fernando Valleys, through all of Anaheim and down to Huntington Beach. Millions of people panicking, fighting to get out. Flooding the highways, moving into the hills, the mountains, north toward San Francisco, south toward San Diego. Selah shook her head. How many would die?

  Turning from the window, she rubbed her face. She was exhausted, worn out. It was too much. The events of the night before--the week before--had only just come to a close. She was human once more, she was free to live her life, but at what cost? Theo had become an inhuman monster. Cloud was gone. And the Peace Treaty... The War had begun anew. The vampires had broken free of the Core. She took a shuddering breath and then froze.

  A distant scudding sound came from behind her, faint at first, but rapidly growing louder. She turned and darted back to the window, scanned the horizon. There. Two helicopters, coming fast and low toward her. They gleamed black in the morning light, their surfaces shiny like beetle shells. The military. They'd come. Selah took a step back, away from the window. She reached up and touched her shaved head tentatively, the planes and angles of her skull alien under her touch. She rubbed at the fuzz that was left and then looked up. The roof. That's where they would land. No sense in making them hunt for her through the building. She might as well go up and greet them.

  Selah strode over to the door and then looked back. The shadows were growing thin, and the only evidence to the violence that had taken place here was the broken desk, the shattered window, and the thick pool of coagulated blood on the carpet. She shivered. It took little effort to recall Padrino Machado's face as she had hurled him through the glass. She thought of Theo, looked at the pool of blood, and then turned and hurried out the door.

  The emergency stairwell was pitch dark. She tried to peer up and down the stairs, and then rushed in and up, footsteps echoing loud in the concrete throat of the stairwell, sprinting to the top and shoving open the heavy fire door with an immediate pang of relief. She turned and pushed it closed, and then backed away, half expecting it to open. To disgorge Theo, his face inhumanly cruel, his chest bloodied where he had torn out his heart, his clawed hands reaching for her throat. No. It was past dawn, he was gone, and she had to get a hold of herself.

  The sound of the approaching helicopters grew ever more deafening, and then they swooped into view, beautiful and deadly, their shape almost organic with their smooth curves and tinted windows. They swung around the hospital's flat roof, their rotor blades sending violent gusts of wind whipping past Selah, who raised her hands and squinted up at them as side panels slid open to reveal heavy machine guns pointed down at her.

  "Lie face down and lace your hands behind your head!" The voice was sharp over the loudspeaker, a snarl that caused Selah's stomach to knot. She immediately dropped to her knees and did so. The smooth cement floor was granular against her cheek. She closed her eyes against the dust as one of the helicopters lowered onto the helipad. Soldiers jumped out, their boots loud, and immediately her hands were yanked from behind her head to the small of her back, where they were bound together with flexcuffs. Hands patted her down even as a black nylon hood was yanked down over her head and tied off around her neck. She was grabbed under the arms and hauled to her feet.

  It happened so fast. Selah tried to stay calm, to not panic, but it was hard to breathe in the hood with it sucking into her mouth every time she inhaled. They hauled her along roughly, dragging her when she tripped, and then without warning, three people grabbed her by the legs, waist, and shoulders and threw her up and into the helicopter. She landed with bone-jarring force, her temple cracking against metal, her left shoulder spasming in pain as her arm wrenched beneath her. She struggled to turn over onto her back, but hands grabbed her by the ankles and cinched them cruelly tight with another flexcuff.

  Panting, sweat prickling her scalp, Selah drew her knees up and lifted her head, trying to see through the fabric mesh of the hood. Nothing. The floor suddenly swayed alarmingly out from under her and they were up, arching through the sky in one long curve that caused her gorge to rise as she slid a half inch along the floor before a foot pressed down on her side and held her in place. Then the front of the copter dipped, they smoothed out of the curve, and flew out over the city.

  Stay calm. They haven't hurt you. They're just taking you in. She had been met with disbelief when she had called the Forward Operating Base just north of LA and told them that she was surrendering. The two men had stared at her with incredulity and impatience while she had sworn that she wasn't a vampire, wasn't the gang leader, Arachne, but just Selah Brown, a regular human. They had seen the whites of her eyes, but that had only confused them further. She'd been on the military's most wanted list for the past forty-eight hours for murdering a Colonel and butchering the convoy that had been escorting her out of the Core, but that had been as a vampire. The fact that she was up during the day must have registered with them. It was probably why they hadn't filled her with bullets when they had flown over the hospital roof
.

  She lay still and tried to listen, to overhear their conversation, but it was impossible without earphones. She was carried across the skies of LA as if in the heart of a hurricane, blind and in a state of constant near-suffocation. When they finally touched down, she was on the verge of lashing out just to be free of the hood.

  Hands gripped her again and carried her out of the chopper. Her feet touched the ground and she staggered and tripped along as they dragged her. Her hands were numb and swollen, and her shoulders felt as if slivers of glass had been slipped into each joint. Her breath was loud, magnified within the hood, which was now slick and damp against her skin.

  They entered a building. The acoustics around her changed, the air temperature dropped, and they went from walking on grit to some smooth, hard surface. Down a hall, across another, then finally they stopped and she was dumped down hard into a chair, nearly falling right out before a hand grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back up.

  "Here she is, Sarn't."

  "Any trouble?" A woman's voice, hard and impatient.

  "No, ma'am."

  "Any signs of vampirism?"

  "No, ma'am. Eyes normal, pulse, and she's breathing. As far as we can tell, she's human."

  A chair scraped back as somebody stood up and then Selah heard footsteps approach. Impersonal fingers pushed into the side of her neck. "Pulse. Interesting."

  "I'm human. My name's Selah Brown. Listen--"

  But the Sergeant wasn't interested. She moved away and spoke over her. "Take off her hood."

  Hands pinned her once more, and the tie around her neck was loosened. The hood was yanked off, catching roughly on her lip and nose. Selah blinked as her eyes teared up, the white electric illumination harsh, the people around her blurred.

  A hand caught her by the chin and twisted her face up to the light. Selah blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears away. Two soldiers stood with rifles ready, a third by her side and holding her by the chin. A woman stood before her, staring down into her face. She was tanned, her blonde hair tucked away under a green military cap, the words US ARMY written over her heart with MCKNIGHT on the other side of her chest. She had hard green eyes, the color of river stones, and the tip of her nose and ears were peeling from sunburn.

  "Normal eyes," said McKnight. Selah tried to shake her head free of their hands, but they only held her tighter. "Obviously, no reaction to daylight." The woman was musing out loud to herself. "You are Arachne?"

  "No." Selah did her best to not spit out the word.

  "You look just like her."

  "I know. Bad luck?"

  "No such thing as luck. You Arachne?" The woman's voice was inflexible.

  "No, I told you!"

  McKnight looked at one of the men. "We don't have time for this. Take her to a holding cell. Run her biometrics. If they start being able to walk around in sunlight, we're screwed."

  "I'm telling you, I'm not her!" yelled Selah, struggling furiously to break free of the hands. "My name's Selah Brown. I'm human! Look at my eyes!"

  McKnight looked coldly at Selah. "So you say. That means nothing until we decide it does."

  "What?" A cold shaft of fear pierced her belly as she stared up at McKnight's green eyes. "But... I'm human."

  "We're at war. We've got full scale rioting across the entire city and only ten or so hours before the vampires wake up. Do you think we really care whether you're some kind of new vampire or just a murderer who pretended to be one?"

  Selah shook her head and looked from the Sergeant to the other soldiers. "That's crazy. You can't do that."

  "I'll be the judge of that. Take her to her cell."

  McKnight strode out of the small room, and before Selah could protest, the hood was yanked back down over her head and she was plunged once more into darkness.

  Chapter 2

  They threw Selah into a cell and slammed the door shut. She lay panting on her side, the hood making it hard to breathe, hands still tied behind her back. Grunting, she forced herself to sit up. For the first time, she felt a longing for Sawiskera's power, that dark vampiric might that would have allowed her to snap the flexcuffs, claw off the hood, bend the bars, and escape this cell. She took a deep breath. Closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to still. She waited for calm, fought for balance, and when she found it, she lowered her chin and rose to her knees, then her feet.

  All right. Think. What is the best thing I can do right now? Nothing came to mind. She wanted to laugh. Here she was, hooded and flexcuffed, and she was still trying to figure out the best course of action. More out of stubbornness than any real plan, she walked tentatively forward until she bumped into the wall. No, not a wall. Bars. She gently rubbed her cheek against them, trying to get a sense of what she was being held by. Bars about an inch thick, with three inches between them. She turned and walked along the inner perimeter of her cell, brushing her shoulder against the bars as she went. She bumped hard into the first right angle turn, but was prepared for the second. A square cage, bars all the way around.

  She stopped by what felt like the door. Silence. She had to be in a larger room if she was surrounded on all sides by bars. "Hello?" Her voice was muffled by the hood, but she strained to hear an echo, gain some sense of the room's dimensions. Nothing. Louder this time, "Hello?"

  "Quiet," came a voice. Male, nasal, young. Selah turned toward the speaker. He had sounded nervous, annoyed.

  "Hello? My name's Selah. Who are you?"

  She heard whoever it was shift in what sounded like a cheap metal chair. "I said quiet."

  "Is there any way you can take this hood off? I'm having trouble breathing." That and the inside was once again slick with her breath's condensation.

  "Are you kidding me? You think I'd just open your door and take off your hood because you asked me to?"

  "Maybe you've got a heart," said Selah, hope sinking. "I'm a seventeen-year-old girl. What do you guys think I can do in here?"

  "A seventeen-year-old girl, sure." He was trying for a tough, cynical tone, and not quite succeeding. "That's why you're in a max security cell, 'cause you're just a girl."

  "I am. Jesus, what did they tell you I was?"

  "Look, I said be quiet. Can you do that for me? You keep talking, I'm going to have to do something to shut you up."

  "Sure. I'll be quiet. Just tell me what they told you."

  Silence. She strained to listen. No light came through the hood's fabric, none at all. Was he going to ignore her? She opened her mouth to ask again when he spoke. "They said you're a vampire, the one that killed Colonel Caldwell." He sounded almost sullen.

  "Well, it's daytime. So I can't be a vampire. Right?"

  "I don't know. They said maybe you're a new kind." He sounded even more sullen.

  "A new kind of vampire? That can walk around in the daylight?"

  "Whatever. Not my problem. Just shut it. For real now."

  "Fine. Fine." Selah moved away from the door and took a few faltering steps into what she thought was the center of the cell. She sat down awkwardly. Waited a minute, and then asked softly, "How's it going outside?"

  "Jeez already, you don't know when to give up, do you?" She stayed quiet. Waited. The silence dragged out, and then she heard the chair squeak again. "It's not good, I'll say that much. People are going crazy. Not that I blame them. We're trying to convince people to turn back, but fat chance there. One World NGO and FEMA are setting up emergency camps outside the city, but hell. What a clusterfuck."

  Selah pursed her lips and tried to imagine it. The slums were like a huge wet sponge, and the news of the vampire outbreak would act like a giant fist, squeezing it dry. She closed her eyes and focused on her breath. Inhaled slowly through her nose and then exhaled through her mouth, the sound loud in her ears. When she had judged enough time had passed for her to speak once more, she opened her eyes once more.

  "You know if President Lynnfield has said anything? Taken an official position?"

  "Yeah. H
e sure has. Had a big speech a couple of hours ago. Martial law is back in full effect. Congress and the Senate aren't going to be convened after all. It was a pretty good speech. He said we've learned a lot these past five years, and this time we're gonna kick their ass."

  "So we're officially at war again?"

  "Yeah." His voice grew soft. "Guess so."

  "And Miami? We're at war with them too?"

  She thought she heard him take a deep breath, but couldn't be sure. "No. It doesn't look like it. Their leader, Plessy? He's come out on our side. Has promised to help the US against the LA vampires. It's... it's pretty weird."

  Selah frowned. Pictured Plessy, his pale, soft face, his small lips, his glittering eyes like shards of mica. He had to be so pissed by what had happened. All his work to make vampires acceptable, to create a 'new generation' narrative people would fall for. All thrown under the bus by Louis and his LA vampires. She wanted to laugh. Poor Plessy! All that work.

  "People okay with that? Vampires on our side?"

  "Fuck, I don't know. I know I'm not, but Lynnfield said we're going to-- Dammit! I told you to shut up. I can't be talking to you like this. Enough, all right? Enough."

  She heard him stand up and begin to pace back and forth. She closed her mouth. She'd pushed him as far as she could.

  Her thoughts strayed. Enclosed within her tiny hood, her world dark, her breath as loud as the ocean, she waited. Hours passed. She thought of the events that had just recently gone down in LA. Her mind shied from certain memories, obsessed over others. She thought of how Louis had looked the last time she had seen him, how she had battered him to the ground and then thrown him out the window. Was he out there, sleeping, waiting to rise tonight and cause further chaos? Definitely. Chico and Cloud. Where were they? She hoped fervently that they were safe, that they had taken the reporter, Fernanda, and found Ramonito and left town already.

  Theo. Out there like Louis, asleep while the sun scrawled its fiery path across the sky. Heartless now, his soul torn apart. She remembered his furious gaze, his raw hunger, the burning hatred that had compelled him to try to kill her at the very last. Selah shuddered. If Plessy was on the side of the US, then Miami was probably still an orderly place. Which meant Mama B and General Adams--