Bloody Vampires by Bobby Nayyar

Author:Bobby Nayyar [Charlotte Judet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781907536670
Publisher: Limehouse Books Limited
Published: 2011-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Une aube affaiblie

Verse par les champs

La mélancolie

Des soleils couchants.

A restrained embrace followed. I didn’t have the strength to tell her the truth. A year later we married.

<>

I walked towards the city. Across straight, wide roads, the occasional car stopping before me. I paused before an electrical goods store. Behind a metal grille I could see a wide assortment of televisions, far more advanced than the ones we had in the compound. Each television was set to the same news channel. There was a story of an election, a flood in Land Mass 3, and then I saw the familiar uniforms of what was known as a peacekeeping force (I forget their actual name). I saw aerial footage of the Remote Strike that had struck our compound. That had shattered our citadel.

It was a peculiar sight to see my world destroyed from afar. Almost like a bird in flight: proud, majestic, soaring in the sky above rubble, dust and broken bodies. I couldn’t keep up with the reporter, but I could tell that the Strike was a success. A number flashed on the screen of the estimated White Cells nullified. There were shots of young soldiers cheering and then the reporter turned and smiled at the camera with bright white teeth.

One half of the world was dying. The other half was watching them die on TV.

I turned and began to pace, the road becoming an arrow. I passed bars emptying their numbers, couples holding hands, staggering to taxis, groups of young women and groups of young men talking to each other, playing games. I walked in the road to avoid them, occasionally stepping back onto the pavement to avoid cars. One large vehicle sped up towards me. I jumped, my body slamming into the back of a tall man. I had knocked the wind from his lungs. He bent over while his three friends rounded on me.

I raised my hands in apology. I didn’t want to speak. The lights were too bright. There was too much risk that they would see my teeth. I expected that they were still stained red. My back was soon against the window of a bar. I watched as a white fist swung towards my face. The man was drunk. I leaned to the right as his punch cracked the glass, which shattered onto my left cheek, making the tiniest incisions across my face.

I had to move.

White Cell blood is much darker than Red Cell blood. It is a fact widely distributed. I have seen websites that list the seven signs of the White Cells, others that show my kind being executed, some beheaded, others by exposure to the sun.

The group of men tightened around me. The only way out was to fight. You should have realized by now that I am no fighter. I am a man of letters. I tried to remember my few boxing sessions at university. I did it to impress Aisha, to compete with her suitors, but it didn’t last. A man with intelligence finds it hard to have his head pounded.

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