King Carrion by Rich Hawkins Page B

the window at the dusk falling over the town.
         “We won’t get back to the church before dark,” he said.
         Pete looked outside then checked his pistol. He wiped his mouth. “Looks like we’re having a sleepover.”
     
    *
     
    With the light bleeding from the sky they barricaded the doors and closed the curtains. They holed up in the living room, where there wasn’t as much blood as in the other downstairs rooms. Pete pushed a mattress flat against the living room window; it was a paltry defence against a vampire attack, but it was better than nothing.
         Mason glanced at the framed photos of the family who had, until last night, lived here in relative comfort. The bloodstains in the kitchen and the hallway told an awful end to that story.
         The soldier lay across the sofa, his injured ankle raised on two cushions stacked upon each other. He sipped from a bottle of water and avoided eye contact with Mason and Pete, who sat on the floor and against the opposite wall, facing him. They had questions for him that would have to be answered eventually.
         Mason had found a candle, and lit it against the darkness. A long night awaited them, and they would wait in the shabby little room until sunrise.
    *
    “I think you owe us an explanation,” Mason said to the soldier. “Who are you?”
         The soldier looked at the floor and swallowed. He let out a slow breath. “Corporal Tom Bluth.”
         “Pleased to meet you, Corporal. Now please enlighten us as to what the fuck is happening. The quarantine was put in place very, very quickly. As if the army knew what was happening before the public had even the slightest clue.”
         Bluth didn’t look at Mason. He was wringing his hands.
         “It would be polite to answer, Corporal,” said Pete. “We did save your life today, if you remember.”
         “I remember.”
         “Good,” said Pete.
         “Did you get left behind?” Mason asked.
         Bluth looked up at them. “No.”
         “Elaborate, Corporal.”
         “I led a squad into the town on the first night. Strictly recon, with orders not to engage the creatures or interact with civilians, and then report back. There were four of us. Gibbs and Webster were taken by the creatures. Foster and myself were caught by that lynch mob. I managed to escape, but he didn’t, as you saw.”
         Pete placed his hand near the pocket holding his pistol. “Does the army know how this all started? I saw a few army vehicles passing through town the day before the quarantine.”
         Bluth stared at the floor. “I’m just a grunt.”
         “If you know something, tell us,” said Mason.
         “I’ve only heard rumours.”
         “What rumours?”
         “I can’t say.”
         “You can, Corporal. Help us out here. We saved your life. You owe us something, at least, even if it is just rumours.”
         Bluth looked away from him and sighed, then ran his hands over his face. “King Carrion.”
         Mason felt his heart falter. “What?”
         “Like I said, it’s a rumour.” Bluth leaned forward. “I heard that the military found something buried deep in the ground. In some sort of tomb. A hibernating creature. A vampire.” He paused, looked at Mason.
         “Go on,” Mason said.
         “Apparently they brought it to a military base a few miles away from here. It’d been there for several months until it woke up, and then escaped…”
         “And came here,” Pete said.
         Bluth nodded. “That’s what I heard.”
         Mason remembered the thing of shadows and rags he’d encountered on the night Calvin and Zeke died. The creature that danced with Ellie in his dreams.
         King Carrion. The vampire King…
         “So what do the military plan to do now they’ve quarantined the town?” asked Mason. “More firebombing? Scorched earth? Wipe