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and the almost tangible smell of fear on his battered captive, the scavenger
felt he had good reason to believe the Ylesgaire's words. He advanced closer,
snatching up his petrified prey.
"Don't kill me! I helped! I helped!"
"Yeah. You did, didn't you?" observed the scavenger, grasping the vampire by
the throat. He snapped its neck with a swift, savage wrench and tossed the
corpse aside. Sniffing the air again, the scavenger resumed his hunt.
* * * *
Mother Damnation [The Blessed and the Damned I]
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259
The back of the ambulance was packed: Dane shared it with three other wounded;
all officers like himself. A stocky paramedic, Sergeant Bob 'Mungo' Lofthouse,
watched over the passengers and three more crew occupied the front: two
corpsmen and a driver. Akee insisted on squeezing herself in somehow, and
despite the paramedic's protests about safety, Dane overruled him and insisted
the Nabaren be allowed on board.
The journey to Camp Delta was rushed and uncomfortable.
All the wounded were fixed in place, strapped securely to their stretchers,
and to keep them comfortable or at least quiet the burly paramedic injected
each of his charges with morphine and spent half the journey looking out the
back window of the ambulance and swearing under his breath.
Mungo mumbled each obscenity like a mantra, as if by reciting his way through
every profanity his language had to offer he could somehow achieve a state of
serenity or keep the slurps from pursuing his vehicle. No-one interrupted him:
each officer knew well enough to extend certain privileges to their sergeants
and in many cases a bit of bad language was the very least of their vices.
More to the point, in uttering his incessant stream of fucks, shits,
motherfuckers and cocksuckers, Mungo had managed to capture the essence of the
feelings of all present. He repeated the words so often that they lost their
meaning, and all that was left was a desperate, desolate angry noise. No other
music could have accompanied their retreat and done it justice.
Rain splashed against the windscreen and rattled against the steel roof of the
ambulance in a way that reminded Akee
Mother Damnation [The Blessed and the Damned I]
by Janrae Frank, Phil Smith
260
of the chattering of machine guns. The air was chill and damp. Taking up a
spare blanket, she huddled beneath it like an old woman beneath a shawl, but a
few minutes later she thought better of it and draped the blanket over Dane.
She tried to make conversation; anything to pass the time as the air grew
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darker and colder.
"Major Dane-Saee?"
"Hrm?" Dane had been trying to sleep. Strapped down and with drainage tubes
sticking out of his torso, he had few options as far as pastimes went.
"You think ... you think Captain Sinclair-Saee okay?"
Silence fell over the ambulance as Dane considered his answer carefully.
"Akee, the boys're going to be up to their asses in slurps by now. You know as
well as anyone that no-
one'll last forever, no matter how good they are."
Akee's face fell. Seeing her reaction, the major patted his scout on the knee.
"But if anyone can beat the odds, it'll be Sinclair."
* * * *
Tirtuu was scared. He spent a lot of time scared these days. Any elation he
felt at escaping the cells had soon passed, washed clean away by a fresh
deluge of terror when he realized just how many vampires had broken into the
fort.
He now had two groups of hostiles to worry about; the people that had locked
him up in the first place, and those that sought to drain everyone they found.
He did not expect them to know or care that he was responsible for putting the
Fox in hospital.
Mother Damnation [The Blessed and the Damned I]
by Janrae Frank, Phil Smith
261
Such was his desperation that he tried praying to Zälek to get him out of this
mess, but it was like talking to a brick wall. He could expect no help from
his master; he was still very much on his own. If he wished to survive, he had
to rely on all the experience he had gained from spending years as a
professional opportunistic coward. Experience taught him to avoid unnecessary
engagement; he may have got the drop on an Ylesgaire and succeeded in braining
the creature, but he could not count on being able to do so a second time.
Making his way up to the ground floor, a quick glance out of a window revealed
that the compound was crawling with ticks.
To risk going out into that lot would mean certain death. He had to bide his
time and stay out of the line of sight of the doors and windows, and yet have
a good run at the exit as soon as the firefight let up. Keeping his eyes
peeled for military policemen and Ylesgaires, Tirtuu searched for a broom
cupboard.
* * * *
Lieutenant Stuart was beginning to feel tired, but battled on regardless: he
had an example to set his men. It had been a hard fight and as far as he could
see all the surviving members of his platoon were beginning to show signs of
fatigue; even Sergeant Ramsden, who struck him as being born for this kind of
combat.
"Don't see many more behind that lot, Sir."
"Come again, Private...?"
"Eryngus, Sir. Known as Ringer."
"You sure o' that, are you, Ringer?"
Mother Damnation [The Blessed and the Damned I]
by Janrae Frank, Phil Smith
262
"Gold marksman's wings, Sir. Always had good eyes."
"Thank fuck fer that." Stuart weighed his last grenade in his hand. "Last one, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]