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Nightfall 1X02
By VampireHunter_D
NIGHTFALL
"Survivors"
Thin red tendrils of light stretched from the horizon, mixing with the invading darkness to cast the sky in shades of dark purple. From his vantage point atop the small building, Bill could see that he did not have much time left. He had spent most of the evening up there, writing down scattered memories of the past year, mostly a suicide note to any that might eventually find his body.
He decided he had put it off long enough, they would soon be venturing up the stairwells of the building to seek him out. He did not want to end up as one of them; as nearly everyone else had; as a vampire. He had spent the afternoon breaking into the police armory, claiming only a shotgun and a handful of shells. That was all that he needed to end it; he had no delusions about escaping the city.
He thought of his parents, long gone when the attacks first began, and of friends that vanished one after another as the wave of vampirism swept the globe. He thought of his last friend, Ben, who had kept them alive this long and was now undoubtedly a vampire himself.
Tears began streaming down his cheeks, burning his eyes as he let them flow freely, the emptiness building worse than ever. It had to be now, while he was accepting the realization that there was no future; no way to escape what had happened to the entire human race.
He placed the double barrels of the shotgun under his chin, closing his eyes as he wrapped his finger around the trigger. He concentrated to slow his breathing, suddenly realizing that it had been coming in fast, short gasps. In his mind he began to countdown from three, building his nerve to pull the trigger and end it.
Three.
Deep, slow breath.
Two.
Deep, slow breath.
"I don’t think you want to do that," came a man’s voice that nearly startled Bill enough that he almost pulled the trigger any way.
Bill opened one eye, barely making out three shapes in the near darkness of nightfall. Enough of them could be seen to make out that they were human, still, and not the dreaded Nosferatu searching for their newest meal. A short laugh escaped from his lips, expelled more as a gasp of surprise than anything.
"You’re not alone," spoke the same voice, coming from the center of the trio of shadowy forms. The man stepped forward, his features becoming discernable, and Bill could not believe who he was seeing.
The man was a priest. That was a double shock; the members of the church had been the preferred targets of the vampires when they had first spread. With those strong in faith quickly out of the way, the vampires had an even easier time spreading. The man’s white smile was a bright contrast to his dark skin, his African heritage having given him a very dark complexion.
"I don’t believe it," stuttered Bill, rising from his seated position. "I…I didn’t think anyone else was still alive!"
"We won’t be for long if we don’t get out of here!" warned one of the others.
Guessing her to be in her mid-twenties, Bill smiled at meeting the woman that stepped up beside the priest. Stout in figure, she looked both bored and anxious at the same time, with dirty blonde hair that took away from the shine within her eyes. She had been a friendly person at one time, but then surviving the last year in world overrun with vampires will do wonders to your looks.
The third person was another man, carrying two large containers marked fuel. Though short in stature, with black hair that hung down about his shoulders, the man had a hard edge to his face that conveyed his capability for violence. Bill had seen that look before, years ago on the face of a man that had robbed a fast food restaurant that he had been dinning in at the time.
"I’m Father Cameron," introduced the priest. "Father Roy Cameron. This is Diane Price," he continued, tipping his hand towards the woman. "And Ron McCrae."
"Bill. Bill Hopkins." He shook hands with the priest, still amazed that others were here with him when moments ago he was ready to end it all because he had thought himself the last human on earth.
"As Ron said, we haven’t much time," continued Cameron.
"This is insane," argued Bill. "Why did you wait until night to come up here? Why are you up here?"
"For the helicopter, idiot," spat Ron, stepping around the two men to start dumping the fuel into the setting machine.
"Diane, would you see what’s keeping Jim?" asked Father Cameron before turning to explain things to Bill. "We spotted it this afternoon. After checking it out and finding it only to be out of fuel, we went to retrieve some."
"That must have been while I was breaking into the armory."
"I can fly us out of here, but we haven’t much time. It took us longer to find the proper fuel than we thought it would."
"You can fly the copter?"
"I’ve learned a thing or two during my missionary days."
Guns shots echoed up to them through the open roof door, followed by cries for help from Diane. Bill and Roy ran to the doorway, nearly colliding with Diane as she backed out onto the roof, firing down into the darkness.
"We’ve got company," cried Diane, squeezing off the last two rounds of her rifle.
The group ran for the helicopter as Ron finished pouring the last of the fuel into it. Roy clamored into the pilot’s seat and began flicking switches while Diane reloaded her rifle. Bill covered the door, holding the shotgun that he had been planning on using on himself, ready to fire on anyone that came through the door.
"Where’s the rest of the cans?" asked Ron.
"I couldn’t get to them," replied Diane. "Jim’s dead. That bloodsucker got him."
"Damn it!" cursed Ron, slamming his fist into the side of the copter.
"Jim was his brother," informed Diane, catching Bill’s questioning glance.
A black shape was suddenly at the door, it’s awkward movements conveying that it was one of the newer vampires, not yet graceful and fluid-like in it’s motions. Dressed in ragged clothes that told how violently it had died at the hands of the vampires, something clicked in Bill’s head. The clothes seemed familiar, and when the creature turned to stare at them, he knew why.
"Oh, God," he nearly whispered. "Ben."
"Billllll," it hissed, smiling at the man. "I though I would find you here."
The copter whirred to life, the blades beginning to slowly spin as they built up momentum. The noise that the craft made seemed like a roar in the silence of the dead world, no other sounds existing to challenge it. Every one of them hoped it wouldn’t take long for the craft to be ready; the others undoubtedly were already on their way.
"Damn it, Ben. Why weren’t you more careful?"
"It’s not as bad as we thought, Bill," spoke Ben, his voice smooth and relaxing. "We’re friends, Bill. Join me."
The shot gun boomed, Bill emptying both barrels into the vampire. One massive black hole appeared in Ben’s chest, nearly knocking the vampire back, but failed to kill the creature as Bill had intended. The vampire looked up from the rapidly healing hole in it’s chest to stare Bill in the eyes.
"Is that your final answer?" asked Ben.
Twip!
A small, wooden shaft suddenly appeared in Ben’s chest, directly where his heart should be, and a look of shock came over the vamp’s face. The wet gurgling sound he was making ended as he fell to the ground, death finally coming to him.
Bill glanced over to see Ron holding a pistol sized cross-bow.
"Let’s go, people," shouted Roy out to them. "We don’t have enough fuel to be wasting it on waiting for the others to show up!"
The group climbed into the copter, Roy pulling back on the stick to lift the machine up into the darkening sky. Dozens of forms flowed out onto the roof, some of the creatures leaping franticly in a vain attempt to latch onto the copter’s landing struts.
"Here’s why you couldn’t get anyone on the radio," spoke Roy, showing Bill a burnt fuse he had removed from under the console. "We’re going to have to set down and try to fuel up at the airport…quickly. Should be able to find some fuses there, if we’re not overrun."
"Then there’s more people out there?" asked Bill, a feeling of hope building in him. He had thought he would never feel that way again.
"Yeah. Not many of us, but enough."
"For what?"
"To reclaim our world!" shouted Ron from the back of the copter.
9/15/2002 2:48:23 PM
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