Nero grew angry watching the mayhem. Already six vampires lay dead; their bodies still smouldering from the holy water. Five more lay on the ground holding stumps of arms or legs. They screamed piteously. In all his years as a vampire he had never seen another of his kind scream like that. There was little blood because the water had cauterised the wounds on contact, but it still ate into the flesh that remained like acid. The remaining vampires began to land before him and transform. Flesh rippling over bone as their bat-like features moulded back to human.

"What are you doing back here?" he screamed at them. "You are Vampires, Lords of this earth. Get back up there or I'll destroy you myself!"

The Vampires hesitated, looked from Nero to the house and back again, as if weighing up which they feared most. It wasn't until they noticed that the thunderous sound of the water cannon had stopped that they seemed to be able to choose.

"They've run out." Nero smiled evilly. "Come, follow me. I'll show you what it is to be a Vampire."

With that Nero transformed and launched himself into the air and the remaining swarm followed.

The corridor between the living quarters and the main entrance was a hive of activity. People formed a line and carried tables, chairs, desks and anything else they could find to build a barricade between themselves and the door. The barrier reached almost to the ceiling and stretched at least ten feet in width across the full length of the corridor.

"Come on, people, let's move it; they'll be here soon!" Harris shouted from halfway up the rampart. His voice echoed loudly in the confined space.

"Do you think we can hold them?"

Harris looked down at Sandra Harrington's upturned face. Her eyes, the clearest blue he had ever seen, shone brightly against the background of her dust-encrusted face.

"I really don't know," he sighed. "It depends on how many there are."

Just then Dan Harrington and Father Reilly arrived, both red-faced from the exertion.

"How did it go?" Harris asked.

"We stopped the first wave, but they've already regrouped." Harrington panted between breaths. "Worked like a charm while it lasted, but I never thought all that water would disappear so quickly. How are we fixed here?"

"We're about as ready as we can be. I've set up as many men as I could get behind the barricade with Pat's special ammunition. We still don't know if it'll work but it's all we've got. Father Reilly," Harris addressed the priest, "we've got to get the women and children back to--"

"Sorry, Harris," Reilly interrupted, "you'll have to get someone else. These bastards are about to get their first taste of the wrath of God. I'm staying here." The last words were spoken as the priest lifted a machine gun in his hands and slammed the magazine home. He pulled on the breech, loaded the first round and looked at the others as if daring them to deny him.

Harris gaped at the priest, unsure if he was more surprised at his language or the fact that he looked very comfortable with that weapon. Harris relented with a sigh and looked hopefully at Sandra Harrington.

"Don't even think about it, Peter Harris," she warned. "I'm not being left behind again. This time I'm not leaving your side."

Harris grinned at the look of determination in her face and knew that facing the vampires would be easier than arguing with her.

"All right, but we--"

A heavy boom came from the door. The noise reverberated around the enclosed area and everyone stopped to stare at the door. The door itself was metal, a full seven inches thick and capable of surviving all but a direct hit from a nuclear warhead. Unfortunately, no one had included vampires in the original specifications and the metal was already buckling after the first blow.

"All right, everybody get ready!" Harris shouted and people ran to their positions. "McNamara," the man jumped at the sound of his name. "Get back to the others and help them get out safely!" His face grew serious. "You do realise how important this is, don't you?"

McNamara nodded and sprinted off down the corridor. The air filled with the sound of magazines clicking home and breeches being pulled. Then silence reigned. Except for the pounding.

"Hurry up!" Nero screamed at the vampires.

There was room for only three vampires at once at the metal door. Those three had morphed to the fullest, most powerful form they could manage. Only the eldest of the vampires could manage this kind of control, those that had lived at least two hundred years, and Nero had ordered his most trusted lieutenants to the chore.

He smiled and looked upon the three creatures. They each had assumed forms that borrowed heavily from ancient mythology, with an emphasis on power. The first creature, Pollock, had taken the form of a Minotaur and grown to a height of some ten feet. His massive back rippled with muscles as he raised his fists and brought them crashing down against the metal. The second vampire, Narcissus, had sprouted two extra arms and extended its body outward to increase it's mass and so maximise its centre of balance. The result allowed the creature to strike the doors with all four appendages and hammer in a constant windmill motion.

The third lieutenant, Thiebes, took a hellish form like nothing even Nero had ever seen. Sticky ochre, the colour of congealed blood, covered its body. Its face was stretched impossibly over a cavern of wickedly sharp teeth. Its red eyes were set deep into its angular head. The creature pivoted back on its short arms and brought its massive legs crashing into the door in a seesaw motion.

The concentration and energy needed to assume and retain these forms was phenomenal. All three would need to feed immediately after they broke through. Indeed, they would need to gorge on the humans to recover from such exertions.

Still, thought Nero, there's plenty to go around.

The noise was unbearable. The constant hammering made everyone flinch with each impact. Harris looked over at Rodgers and Reiss, both men injured with their legs in bandages, but adamant that they would not slow down the escape party. Rodgers caught Harris'ss eye and winked, a stupid, wide grin transforming his features for a few seconds before grim determination took its place. Harris smiled in acknowledgement and shook his head.

Things just wouldn't be the same without him, Harris thought.

Reiss lay propped against the far wall, his leg heavily bandaged. Four machine guns lay against the wall beside him, and a pile of magazines sprawled on the floor in easy reach.

Dan Harrington and Father Reilly crouched together to his left, and just past them Harris could see Pat Smith, the portly, bald-headed chemist upon whose "magic" bullets all their lives depended. Smith must have sensed Harris" gaze as he glanced over and nodded towards him, attempting a smile but his nervousness got the better of him and the smile fell from his lips.

He felt a hand touch his own and broke the gaze to look at Sandra Harrington and smile. She smiled back, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked tired and frightened. He took her hand in both of his and squeezed gently, and then looked along the line at the forty or so men and women. A deep pride swelled in him. No one here had chosen this path, but each and every one of these people was prepared to die to try and give the others the time to escape through the water tower.

While the vampires" attention was centred on the main entrance of the Cave, the rest of the community would make their way through the water tower and out into the forest beyond. They didn't worry about the vampires trying to use that entrance as they had left just enough water in the bottom of the tanks to make any assault impossible for the creatures, even if they found it.

Harris looked at his watch.

Another ten minutes and they'll be clear, he thought.

Only Father Reilly and himself knew about their final, desperate gambit now that Crockett was dead. The knowledge weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had sought and received absolution from Father Reilly earlier, and now kept checking his waist for the small metal box secreted on his belt.

All along the line men and women dried their sweating hands against trousers and occasionally shifted position when muscles cramped. Each person's attention was riveted on the metal door.

The pounding continued.

The metal finally split with an ear shattering crash. A tear appeared almost perfectly down the centre. The remains of the door flew to either side and the entire corridor shook when the heavy doors crashed against the walls. People swallowed on dry throats; knuckles went white as they gripped their weapons tighter. From the faint mist of dust and destruction emerged three visions from hell that pushed through the smoke and approached the humans. The barricade had looked strong and unassailable just minutes before, but when Harris looked up at these creatures it now seemed woefully inadequate.

"Steady!" he heard himself croak and he gripped Sandra Harrington's hand tighter. His legs felt less than steady as the creatures thundered closer.

"Steady!" he called again and then, just as the creatures came in line with a mark on the wall, his arm flashed down.

"Now!" he shouted.