Fat Vampire 6: Survival of the Fattest by Johnny B. Truant Page A
Authors: Johnny B. Truant
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mentally added that vampire evasion would never keep up with those improved human procedures, because vampires didn’t innovate.
But the failure of innovation would lead to dire consequences here and now, too, and Ophelia seemed to be blind to them. Vampire scientists — if there were such things — wouldn’t be able to crack the human biological weapon unless they managed a peek at the humans’ secret recipe, and they certainly wouldn’t be able to formulate a defense. How could they? Reginald had learned early on that nobody even understood the so-called “agent” that made them vampires. Vampires weren’t curious. They didn’t explore or ask questions. Vampires simply became … and then they were .
Humanity had discovered a loophole. They couldn’t physically outmatch vampires, but they hadn’t been able to physically outmatch mammoths or saber-toothed tigers, either. The strongest muscle on planet Earth had always been the one between a human’s soft, fragile ears.
The vampire codex’s prediction of a human victory — and subsequent extermination of the entire vampire population — was beginning to seem inevitable by the time Reginald, Nikki, Brian, and Ophelia reached the ready room in the basement, but Reginald still had to try — starting with being maximally prepared for Timken’s meeting with the human leader. He looked over all of the intel on Lafontaine, the human resistance network (most of what they knew was what the humans had shown them in their now-eighteen incidents of sabotage and insurgence), and the location that Lafontaine had proposed meeting. The soldiers who would supervise the meeting armed themselves — first with armor and the Freddy Kruger claws Reginald had first seen in use by V-Crews, then reluctantly with sidearms and assault rifles. This was a contested point amongst the proud soldiers, but Reginald, who still didn’t know which side he was on, insisted. Humans were vulnerable to bullets, so the vampires should carry bullets. A spray of machine gun fire could still do things that a vampire couldn’t.
Several times during the briefing and preparation, Reginald caught himself second-guessing his own words and actions. There was no way to win. He didn’t want to help Timken (and, by extension, Claude — Maurice’s brother and murderer), and he didn’t want to kill humans. But he also didn’t want to be exterminated, and he didn’t want Nikki, Brian, or any of the world’s innocents to die from a cruel and painful weaponized virus. Even during the height of the war, there had been many vampires who had sat idly by, hiding in their basements and praying for conflict to pass over them. There were many who took no sides, and many who were complicit without actually doing any killing themselves. Today, that number had swelled. Before the war, there had been seventy thousand vampires in the world, and most of them had been hardened by years as hunters and killers, most having self-selected to train and then become creatures of the night. Today’s vampires were powder puffs by comparison. Many had been turned against their will to swell the vampire population, or had turned voluntarily because they preferred it to death or slavery. Modern vampires had tried to adapt their old human surroundings to their new natures instead of learning how to be vampires. They didn’t know how to hunt, how to fight, or even how to feed from anything beyond a blood pouch. As much as Reginald hated vampirekind, he couldn’t bring himself to hate most of the individuals who comprised it. They were simply too sad to loathe.
So they armed and they planned. It was all they could do, unless they wanted to wait to be eradicated by default.
Ophelia gave them bulletins as the time leading up to the meeting drained away: vampire populations in large cities looting stores, vampires rioting for vengeance, hippies clamoring for understanding and the cessation of hostilities, yelling
But the failure of innovation would lead to dire consequences here and now, too, and Ophelia seemed to be blind to them. Vampire scientists — if there were such things — wouldn’t be able to crack the human biological weapon unless they managed a peek at the humans’ secret recipe, and they certainly wouldn’t be able to formulate a defense. How could they? Reginald had learned early on that nobody even understood the so-called “agent” that made them vampires. Vampires weren’t curious. They didn’t explore or ask questions. Vampires simply became … and then they were .
Humanity had discovered a loophole. They couldn’t physically outmatch vampires, but they hadn’t been able to physically outmatch mammoths or saber-toothed tigers, either. The strongest muscle on planet Earth had always been the one between a human’s soft, fragile ears.
The vampire codex’s prediction of a human victory — and subsequent extermination of the entire vampire population — was beginning to seem inevitable by the time Reginald, Nikki, Brian, and Ophelia reached the ready room in the basement, but Reginald still had to try — starting with being maximally prepared for Timken’s meeting with the human leader. He looked over all of the intel on Lafontaine, the human resistance network (most of what they knew was what the humans had shown them in their now-eighteen incidents of sabotage and insurgence), and the location that Lafontaine had proposed meeting. The soldiers who would supervise the meeting armed themselves — first with armor and the Freddy Kruger claws Reginald had first seen in use by V-Crews, then reluctantly with sidearms and assault rifles. This was a contested point amongst the proud soldiers, but Reginald, who still didn’t know which side he was on, insisted. Humans were vulnerable to bullets, so the vampires should carry bullets. A spray of machine gun fire could still do things that a vampire couldn’t.
Several times during the briefing and preparation, Reginald caught himself second-guessing his own words and actions. There was no way to win. He didn’t want to help Timken (and, by extension, Claude — Maurice’s brother and murderer), and he didn’t want to kill humans. But he also didn’t want to be exterminated, and he didn’t want Nikki, Brian, or any of the world’s innocents to die from a cruel and painful weaponized virus. Even during the height of the war, there had been many vampires who had sat idly by, hiding in their basements and praying for conflict to pass over them. There were many who took no sides, and many who were complicit without actually doing any killing themselves. Today, that number had swelled. Before the war, there had been seventy thousand vampires in the world, and most of them had been hardened by years as hunters and killers, most having self-selected to train and then become creatures of the night. Today’s vampires were powder puffs by comparison. Many had been turned against their will to swell the vampire population, or had turned voluntarily because they preferred it to death or slavery. Modern vampires had tried to adapt their old human surroundings to their new natures instead of learning how to be vampires. They didn’t know how to hunt, how to fight, or even how to feed from anything beyond a blood pouch. As much as Reginald hated vampirekind, he couldn’t bring himself to hate most of the individuals who comprised it. They were simply too sad to loathe.
So they armed and they planned. It was all they could do, unless they wanted to wait to be eradicated by default.
Ophelia gave them bulletins as the time leading up to the meeting drained away: vampire populations in large cities looting stores, vampires rioting for vengeance, hippies clamoring for understanding and the cessation of hostilities, yelling
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