Scott G. Mariani - Uprising

‘Destroy them. Already dead, remember.’

Greg made a face. ‘Right.’

‘Only if we absolutely have to, the ones that won’t listen to sense. Mostly they end up cooling their heels in the Federation Detention Centre for a while. But if they’ve done something really bad, or really stupid, sometimes the Ruling Council will vote for a termination. There was one last year. Rock star. Found out that this guy was a vampire, offered him five million quid to make him into one too. The vampire went for it. Two days later the rock star rose up as one of the Undead and the vampire walked off with the five mill.’

‘Oh, boy.’

‘Everyone’s happy, until the day after that, the rock star forgets what he’s become, walks out onto his balcony at sunrise and – whoosh. He went off like a magnesium flare. Some journo got the shot of him burning up. There was a whole thing in the press about human spontaneous combustion.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I remember that. That was Bobby Dazzler, the lead guitarist of Wild Boys.’

‘He certainly dazzled everyone that day. Of course, Bobby’s name wasn’t on the Federation register and we soon tracked down the guy who had turned him, who was now suddenly spending like a sailor and renting a yacht down in St Tropez. The Council didn’t waste time on him. He got zapped. Lethal injection of Nosferol. That’s one of the special drugs that the Federation produces. We have our own fabrication plant in Italy.’

‘I know about the drugs,’ Greg said. ‘Got the whole lecture already. Like this stuff here, for instance.’ He dug a plastic bottle out of his pocket and gave it a shake. The thick green liquid inside clung to the glass.

Alex glanced at it. ‘That’s that shitty blood substitute they give out to newbies like you who aren’t able to juice for themselves yet.’

‘Tastes pretty bad, but it seems to keep me going. What is it, anyway?’

‘Synthetic crap, kind of vampire baby food. But you can’t stay on it forever. You’re going to have to learn to feed naturally.’

He pulled a face. ‘I’m not looking forward to that part.’

‘Don’t worry, it’s easy. When you get hungry enough, it’ll come naturally. What about your Solazal? You got your supply of that too? I don’t need to be worrying about you?’

He looked blank. ‘My what? Oh, right. Those little white pills.’

‘Shit. When was the last time you took one?’

‘Uh, sometime yesterday, I think.’

Alex slammed her foot on the brake and the Jag skidded to a halt in the traffic to an angry chorus of horns.

‘You think? Have you any idea what’s going to happen when the effect wears off and you’re still out in daylight? Fizz, it’s over, just like Bobby Dazzler. And on my champagne leather seats?’ She reached into the glove box and handed him a packet of pills. ‘Get one down you right now.’

She took off again as he sucked on the pill. ‘Get this in your head. Solazal is a photosensitivity neutraliser, and it’s the centre of your life from now on. You take one every twelve hours without fail, or you’ll fry.’

‘Kind of a departure from tradition, isn’t it?’ he said sheepishly.

‘Modern age, babe. Got to keep up with the times.’

Kate Hawthorne was awoken by the sound of her mother coming into her room.

‘Come on, young lady. Can’t lie there all day. It’s nearly ten past eight and you’re going to be late for school.’

Kate groaned and crawled in deeper under the duvet. ‘Leave me alone.’

‘That’s what you get for all this late night cavorting about,’ her mother snapped. She ripped open the curtains and then marched over to the bed to yank back the edge of the duvet. Kate flinched as the pale autumn sunlight hit her in the face. It was hardly bearable. She tried to grab the duvet back from her mother but fell back, half blinded and gasping.

‘Look at you. What on earth’s the matter with you?’

‘Please, Mum. I’ve got a terrible headache.’

‘You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?’

‘I haven’t been drinking.’ But the truth was, Kate realised, she could hardly remember a thing about the night before. She vaguely recalled being with Dec, then the argument. Storming off down the road; the big posh Rolls stopping for her.

And that was it. The rest was a big, yawning blank. How had she got home? Had the man brought her back? Who was he? And where had she seen his face before?

Kate squinted up at her mother. The expression of tight-lipped disapproval made it perfectly clear that her daughter had not been driven home to 16 Lavender Close in a Rolls-Royce. That would have been cause for celebration for Mrs Gillian Hawthorne.

‘You don’t have to look so sour.’ You old cow, she wanted to add. She kept it back, but it must have shown in her eyes, because the disapproving look on her mother’s face deepened a couple of tints.

‘The police called here earlier about your boyfriend.’

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ Kate protested.

‘That’ll be why your neck is covered in lovebites. Little tart.’

Kate put her fingers to her neck and winced. Did Dec do that? ‘What about the police?’ she murmured.

‘He crashed his car last night. Drunk, no doubt.’

Kate tried to sit up in bed, and the ache thudded through her head. ‘What? Is he all right?’

‘He’ll survive. That’s what cockroaches do, isn’t it? Why couldn’t you go out with Giles Huntley?’

‘I hate Giles Huntley. He’s a creep and he has bad breath.’

‘At least he has a good education and a future ahead of him when he goes to Cambridge. He’s not going to spend his life poking around in filthy grease under a car bonnet. Have you seen the state of Declan Maddon’s fingernails?’

Please make her shut up, Kate thought. The pain felt like a blunt chisel blade being hammered into her skull and then twisted from side to side. Her vision was exploding with it.

And still her mother went on. ‘You know what’s going to happen if you keep this up, my girl, don’t you? Pregnant. That’s what happened to Chardonnay Watson, isn’t it? Going around with lowlifes. Next thing, a bun in the oven. What a disaster. Mind you, with a name like Chardonnay it was to be expected and it’s probably all she was good for anyway…’

Kate watched her mother ranting on. The words faded out in her ears. For a brief instant she felt a rush of emotions surging up inside her, momentarily blanking out the pain in her head. Feelings she’d never had before, and a sense of power that was almost overwhelming.

Before she knew what was happening, she had her mother by the throat. Shaking her like a terrier with a rat. Screaming, ‘Shut your fucking mouth!’ Her mother’s tongue hanging out, her face turning blue as she throttled the life out of her.

But then she was back on her bed and her mother was still standing there, going on at her.

What was happening? Was she going crazy?

‘—should have done a long time ago. St Hildegard’s will be a far better environment for a young lady. You’ll make proper friends, with the right type of people.’

‘Boarding school?’ Kate burst out.

‘Didn’t you hear a word I said? Starting after the Christmas holidays. And in the meantime, you won’t be going anywhere near that family of pikeys next door, I can tell you.’

Kate buried her face in the pillow as her mother went on and on. The migraine was making her want to cry, and she felt sick to her stomach. And weak, so terribly weak, as though the energy had just been sucked out of her.

But somehow, deep inside, she knew something was different about her. Something had happened. Everything felt somehow sharper. More defined. Smells, colours, the floral pattern on the wallpaper her mother had insisted on for the bedroom.