Blood Rebel [COMPLETED]

Chapter Twenty Three - Sewers

But Hector’s voice came closer and closer. Selene felt torn, her heart banging against her ribs like a wild  beast trying to escape its cage. Could she just leave him, without a word?

The prisoners began to topple down into the sewers, one after the other, like skittles in a bowling alley.

“I have to speak to him,” said Selene, turning and attempting to push her way through the rippling muscle of the men behind her, but the attempt was in vain. She couldn’t move them an inch.

“Selene, stop,” said Jackie, putting a hand on her arm and gripping it tight. “He’s not good; he’s not human. He’s a Vampire.”

Richard Mason slipped down in the stairs last, and urged them on.

“Close the hole!” Shouted one of the prisoners.

“I don’t know how!” He replied.

There was a moment of exchanged panicked glances as they realised they had to leave their escape route exposed, but there wasn’t time to worry about it. The prisoners began to splash forward, where the tunnel sloped downwards, descending deeper into the earth beneath their feet.

“Hector tried to have me killed. He’s the reason I was in the line-up for the Bleeding tonight,” said one of the prisoners.

Selene felt every part of her body being manhandled and pushed as they hurried her away. She raised her head to look back where they had come from one last time and was shocked when Hector’s face appeared.

“Selene!”

His voice trembled with desperation. Jackie, with a movement as fast as a predator, put her hand over Selene’s mouth, and pulled her against the side of the tunnel, out of sight. The others froze and Richard Mason once more held his finger to his lips. 

Quiet.

As Selene looked up, the light of flames began to leap at the edges of the hole. She could feel the heat as it hit her face. And then Hector began to scream and his pain could be heard in every sound he made, like an animal. The smell of burning flesh, although not human flesh, penetrated her nostrils, mixed with the choking scent of smoke. The crashing of burning timbers above them drowned out all other sound, and Hector’s voice fell silent. 

“Let’s get out of here!” Shouted Jackie, releasing Selene and pushing her forward into the dark depths of the tunnel, which descended into the earth at a steep angle. They were now wading through sewage that came as high as their knees. 

Selene had no choice but to keep moving; she didn’t want to burn to death. She wanted to live, and right now that required trusting in a man she didn’t know, and a girl she didn’t like, and a lot of prisoners in-between. Questions and emotions raced through her mind at high speed: why is Jackie here?  How does she know these men? Why have they taken me with them, of all the other humans in that room? She was fairly sure none of the other dancers would have escaped; they would either have burned to death, or have been bled by the starving Bleeders who had patiently waited until their moment to feast, which had been stolen from them. 

For at least a mile they trudged in silence, with nothing to light their way. They crept forwards, their sewage-covered hands grasping the walls as they moved.

“Are you alright?” Asked one of the prisoners, leaning towards her. It was the first anyone had spoken since they had left Hector burning in the hallway above them. Selene couldn’t bring herself to respond; she didn’t know if she was alright. She was confused and she wanted to blame them for leading Hector to what was almost certainly his death, but then again, perhaps she was to blame. She had run and he had followed.

But they forced me to go with them. This is not my fault.

If she hadn’t left, Hector wouldn’t have followed her scent. And this prisoner could have been one of those that stabbed Hector with the silver blades. They wanted to harm him. And then it occurred to her that she had run away with an army of men (and Jackie) who would not hesitate to kill Hector. She shook her head and asked:

“Would the fire have killed him?”

“I don’t think so,” said one prisoner.

“Maybe,” said another.

“Vampires don’t like fire, because it reminds them of the hell they came from. Because they aren’t alive in the traditional sense, they aren’t real flesh and blood the way we are. When they die they turn to ash and blood and disintegrate into nothingness.”

“But there’s fire at all the theatrical performances,” said Jackie.

“They love the thrill of it. It excites them, perversely, because it’s one thing that could actually harm them, other than a stake to the heart. And silver of course.” The prisoner touched the remains of his silver neck brace as he spoke.

“Unless a Vampire is actually tied to a stake with silver chains so they cannot move, and burnt whole, fire is unlikely to kill them. But it takes much longer for them to recover from burn wounds than it does from other injuries.”

“Because of the ash?” Asked Selene, realising as she spoke that she had grown used to the smell of the sewage she waded through, and now no longer really noticed it.

“We think so. The human form wants to turn to dust and ashes, as it should have done when they died in the first place, so it clings to those injuries with more strength.”

Their voices were little more than whispers, and although they hadn’t heard anyone other than the members of their own group, they were cautious, not wanting to make too much noise.

“How do we know there aren’t any Vampires down here? I mean, its pitch black, I can’t see where I’m putting my feet, and we all know Vampires see perfectly in the dark. If you ask me, we’re like sitting ducks right now.” Selene pulled at her dress, which was now heavy and soaked with sewage, hindering her movements.

“Vagrants tend to stick to the ancient tunnels of the London Underground. It is possible that they might find their way into the sewers, but they tend to steer clear of the unfiltered smell of their own excrement.”

They walked along, one behind the other, each with a hand on the shoulder of the person in front.  Richard led the way, and Selene got the impression he knew exactly where he was going. He took a left turn, then a right turn, then led them up a slope and down another, all without being able to see anything at all.  

“We’re here.”

“Where?”

“Home.”