Red Serpent: The Falsifier (25 page)

Well,” Nikolas said, “We’ve done what we could. Now the rest is up to him.” His chalk-pale face aged considerably and the whites of his eyes had yellowed as a result of fatigue and a sudden loss of energy. He panted as the others reached his state. They sat down to conserve what little energy they had. “I know it will not go in vain.”

“You’re right,” said Dante. For some reason, he seemed older. It was as though they showed their true ages on their faces, appearing graver by the minute.

Efarius said, “I just hope our lives won’t go in vain.”

Dark bags started to appear under their eyes and seemed to pull their faces towards the floor. Nikolas struggled to breathe. “We won’t die. We will have to call Daniel and refresh ourselves with blood.” He wondered whether it would be too late.

*****

Alex saw many events that occurred since his kidnapping. As a result of his meditation, he developed clairvoyance and clairaudience, which allowed him to see and hear things far away in the present and the future. He saw Grandma in a coma, desperately fighting for her life. He saw that Uncle John had now taken over the democratic system and turned it into his own personal dictatorship. John said he did it for the people, but Alex felt it unnecessary. Anger rose in his veins like lava, boiling and rising into the crevices of his mind. He didn’t like this at all. He worried for Grandma and felt confusion and repulse at his uncle’s actions.

What he saw next made him wish he hadn’t. With Angel was a man with long flowing crimson hair, a vampire. He took her in his arms and unsheathed a small serpentine dagger and slit her throat. “No!” Alex yelled as he materialized a sword and slashed at the vampire’s shoulder. It was no use as the vampire revitalized himself and laughed, showing edged and sharpened teeth set crookedly on blackening gums. A foul stench emitted from his mouth accompanied by red, green, and black smoke. The colored smoke condensed into figures with eyes of reddish gold and soon enough, Alex perceived them to be demons. Their dark leathery skin shone in the light and curly ram’s horns protruded from their heads. They wore nothing but ragged loincloths and their hands held massive axes and hammers. Alex backed away as they tried to circle him.

Alex’s body remained rigid. He sweated massive drops; his t-shirt was soaked. His hair, now glossy with sweat, covered his eyes and his arms became uncomfortably hot and wet. He let out deep hard breaths and still felt restless. Claustrophobia took the better of him; the room seemed to squeeze him, the walls converged at him. Then, it stopped. Someone was knocking.

Alex opened his eyes and felt a sudden, cool relief.

A guard came in saying, “Come with me. You’re expected at the President’s office.”

A knock was heard at Nikolas’s suite as well, but no one answered it. The Rebels were now too weak and their flesh sagged to the point that it looked like it would fall off their bones. They had become like zombies, slowly decomposing before their very eyes. A muffled voice sounded through the thick, bulletproof door. When no answer came, a loud thud followed the voice. Still no answer and so this time it turned into a louder rhythmic hammering at the door.

The Rebels, half dead, wheezed with heavy efforts. The door blasted open by the power of an energy beam. “What the hell is going on in here?” Daniel shouted, glancing around the place, now filled with smoke from the blast. He saw the Rebels sitting sluggishly on the plush sofa and chairs, about to fall off them. “What’s going on?” He rushed to his father, who he recognized not by his face but by his attire. Daniel used his telepathy to call Erik. “Listen!” he said to Erik, “I need some help.”

“What?” Erik’s voice sounded irritated.

“The Rebels...they’re dying.”

“What do you mean, dying?”

“Dying. Mortis, death. You know what I mean! Just send some guards in so we can shift them to the recuperation chambers. Make it quick. I don’t think they can stand it any longer. Neither can I.” Daniel covered his mouth, the reek of their rotting skin trying to crawl up his nostrils. The Rebels mumbled in pain. Congealed blood spilled onto the floor like spoiled crimson milk. Daniel hurried out to the balcony to breathe.
Fresh air, at last!

“Don’t do anything yet,” John said through his communicator. “When I reach the Earth, wait for five minutes. Then, attack these fighters but don’t approach the atmosphere. Once they spot you, make sure you destroy them quickly. We cannot, I repeat we cannot have them contact the Regime. Not yet. Is that clear?”

“Copy that,” was the response in unison.

“Good.” He looked at Richard, unsure of how things would be in the next fifteen minutes. Richard gave him a consoling look as if to say,
don’t worry. We’ll do fine!
The ship picked up speed as it was pulled in by the Earth’s gravity.

“What is that?” asked Richard, surveying the massive base covering the Atlantic.

“So this is what they’ve been up to,” John said, mesmerized. “I saw many of them when we were higher up, but I thought they might have been something natural. This is just amazing.”

Richard said, “What do we do now?”

John shook his head, “Stay calm. Captain,” he said, pushing the intercom, “Report back to General Hopkinson that there might be a change of plan.”

“A change?” Richard asked.

“Yeah,” John looked to his left at the huge CCC. “He may have to go to the other side.”

“You mean, this thing, this base or whatever it is,” Richard said, terrified, “Stretches that far?”

“It’s a possibility. We couldn’t really get a good look, right? I mean there must be more, judging by what we saw earlier.”

A robotic voice could be heard coming from the main speaker of the ship, “You are unidentified and are on our borders. Please state your name and purpose before we launch an attack.”

“Looks like somebody rolled off the wrong side of the bed,” the copilot said, before they gave their details. “This is the official transport of Supreme Leader John Howe. We have come as requested by President Daniel Gareng. Do we have permission to land?”

The voice said, “Alright. We’re sending you co-ordinates of your landing zone. It’s helipad six. President Daniel Gareng will be there waiting for you.”

By the time the Rebels were taken to the recuperation chambers, they seemed dead. They breathed faintly, and some of them were reduced to skinned skeletons. Tubes were inserted into their chests and very slowly they started to come back to life. “How the hell did this happen?” Erik asked.

“I have no idea,” Daniel said. “Did you hear? They’ve come.”

“Yeah I know. I just received the message.” Erik lit a cigarette, offering one to Daniel. The President shook his head. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, if you are,” Daniel said.

Erik blew out a large puff of smoke and sighed.

“You there,” Daniel said to a guard, “Have they brought Alex?”

The guard nodded, “Sir, he will be in here shortly.” Just then two guards brought Alex inside.

“Ah, cousin,” Daniel said, “We were expecting you.” The boy’s demeanor had changed. Alex’s body glowed faintly from under his clothes. Daniel, knowing there was a connection between his father’s state and Alex’s, noticed the difference in Alex’s appearance.

Alex kept his eyes closed the whole time. His lips murmured, perhaps chanting or praying. But they couldn’t be read because they moved so rapidly. He suddenly stopped the silent murmuring, held his head up and opened his eyes slowly. His eyes changed to the color of pure gold. Beautiful. Even Daniel thought the gold iris contrasted with the crimson-black of his pupil splendidly. Alex seemed more muscular, but lean and his facial features had sharpened. Was this his imagination or was it real? Daniel asked himself.

“I know.” Alex’s soft voice radiated around the room.

Erik said hastily, “We haven’t much time. Let me take you to the boardroom.”

“Right,” Daniel said, his scrutinizing eyes still on his cousin, “I will welcome John and bring him there.”

The Regime sent fighters into space, just in case. They floated around, making sure no ships other than John’s entered the atmosphere. But little did they notice what went on above the Regnum, hidden by the station’s curvature.

Bill Haven, one of the nine squadron leaders, gave the command, “Now!” The response was immediate. He himself didn’t realize that he had spoken the words until he saw the other leaders along with their squadrons, rushing towards the vampire ships.

The seventy two jets swirled through space, rushing as fast as they could so as to take the enemy by surprise. When they were seven hundred meters from the enemy, they started shooting, taking out two thirds of their targets. The remaining one-third went head-on towards the Regnum fighters, who dodged, swerved and counterattacked. Bill, himself a new squadron leader, had trouble keeping up with the older ones but he had some moves of his own. An enemy fighter began to tail him. This was exactly what the young pilot wanted. He veered off through all the laser beams and flying debris, towards those ships which were still intact. In one sharp turn upward, he led the ship on his tail into a collision course with another enemy fighter. This was where the fun was; the excitement of not knowing what would happen next and staying in the moment. If one faltered in this technique, they would fall to their doom. “Watch out!” his wing-man, James Lyndon said. He shot at the ship that was about to ram into Bill. “These guys have turned into kamikazes!”

“Well, we can’t have that, not on my watch!” Bill steered and shot. He fled to the right, then to the left, confusing his enemies. He hit about thirteen of them. “Make a circle around them,” he commanded to all the leaders and wingmen and fighters, “Now!” He knew for sure that they were winning and would defeat them. They maneuvered themselves and created a surrounding circular formation around the few enemy fighters that remained.

The enemy kept shooting and ramming into some of the Regnum fighters.

“Evade the bloody kamikazes. I want all those in the attack modes, defended by three ships from behind. We can’t afford to lose any more!” As he said this, an enemy fighter clipped his right wing, tearing it apart.

“Watch—”

But it was too late. The attack had been followed through. Bill was able to tilt his fighter to the left, just in the nick of time, a hairbreadth away from his enemy, who was going to smash into him from the front. But fire sputtered out from his right wing, and he started spinning out of control—

Everything froze.

Daniel squinted at the ship that had just landed. He wore a wind-cheater as the weather became even colder and extremely rainy. He commanded the watchtower soldiers to activate the glass bubble. In an instant, glass rose from the sides of the ground and joined together in the center, protecting Daniel and the ship from the annoying rain. The main door of the ship opened and John, along with two soldiers, came out. He was wearing some light clothes, flowing and loose. As the human walked towards him with his two guards, Daniel concluded that one way or another, this man was going to die. John smiled warmly and, ever the diplomat, embraced Daniel.

“President Gareng!”

“Councilman Howe!” Daniel smiled. He returned the embrace and said, “It’s been a long time.”

John nodded, his face gradually turning serious, “So shall we get to business?”

“Of course. Take these men and offer them some refreshments,” he commanded two escorts who arrived from the interior of the base.

“No, no, no,” John said innocently, “They must remain with me. I trust in your...” he stretched the word, “hospitality, most definitely.” He gave a smirk and continued, “These men will remain with me...as they have for the last twenty one years.”

“Come with me,” said Daniel, gesturing for John to follow him. The Supreme Leader and his guards followed the Regime President’s lead.

They walked in silence all the way to the boardroom. John looked around the place, amazed by what he saw. As they entered an elevator John checked to see what floor they would arrive at. It stopped its descent to the tenth floor and opened on to a medium sized hallway. He couldn’t help wondering how the vamps had done it. The planet had suffered so much destruction and all the great cities had been destroyed. How and where had they gotten the resources? How did they build such a huge structure? He shook his head in disbelief. “Is there something wrong?” Daniel asked, although he already knew what John was thinking. He laughed, “We have been quite busy, as you can see.”

“Yeah,” John said, dumbfounded.

They reached the hall. It was painted in a majestic red and on both sides of the hallway there were portraits of great kings, emissaries, feudal lords, and nobles. Just before they were about to open the massive rosewood door one painting in particular caught John’s eye. It was a very rare painting of Argos I, framed in intricately embroidered solid gold.

Argos was a stout man. In his hand he held a massive sword, the one he had used to kill Markos. His chestnut brown hair flowed down to the nape of his neck and he donned a thick pointed goatee. His amber eyes twinkled and a warm smile lay on his soft face. Underneath the painting was a gold plaque with Argos’s name in modern Migritic.