Writing Prompt II

Second in a series of responses to r/writingprompts.

The Distant Future. The vampires have risen and taken most of the world. Humanity's last refuge is Africa: where the rain itself is holy water, having been blessed long ago by the vampire hunters of Toto.

We can't compete, really. They're stronger and faster, in just about every way. The only advantage we have is what just - doesn't - happen for six months of the year!

So that's why I'm sitting in my observation post on Northcliff Ridge in Johannesburg, scanning with my handheld radar for a flight of anything bigger than Egyptian geese. The view is spectacular, for the few minutes it takes the sun to set. It's 17:30.

Even though it's August, and the first rain isn't due until next month, we really, really need that rain now. The Bloodsuckers have made some awful advances from their strongholds in Namibia, where it hardly rains, ever. It's taken them five months to sweep across the Kalahari, put up their bloody shelters all over the Highveld, and now they're within striking distance of the Johannesburg connurbation. We can keep rainwater from summertime, but it loses its benediction in 72 hours if it's not kept in clear crystal containers. And of course, some crooked politician has been stealing some of it to sell on the black market. We're down to the last few hoppers, made as magazines for modified paintball guns.

Some good has come of it all, I suppose. The bloodsuckers don't distinguish between different races, we're all toast if we fall, so everyone's cool with each other, for a change. They've declared a National Day of Prayer for Rain, first time since the 80s. There's a monster prayer service for rain in Ellis Park tonight, we'll see if the Almighty is listening.

Shit. That's a blip. I flick on the radio. Another scan confirms my worst. My skin crawls.

'Main base, this is Northcliff.' I can't keep the fear from my voice.

'Northcliff, send.'

'Bogies at bearing 2, 8, 5, heading east towards Centurion.'

'Northcliff, repeat?'

I repeat it. They're not even trying to stay hidden! They either think we're already beaten, or it's a diversion.

'How many, Northcliff?'

I try to scan the edge of the group. No way. 'Main base, it's huge! There must be thousands!'

'Shit.' Francois loses his professionalism, briefly.

We're finished. They must be getting desperate with the end of winter, they're hoping to wipe out our forces so they can keep us all as livestock, like they do everywhere else in the world. I keep watching, despair looming large in the freezing Highveld night.

This could very well be The End. I wasn't even issued ammo, there was so little of it. I could stay here, but eventually one of them would find me. Heck, they could be on to me already, some of them can feel radar!

With a whoosh, a bloodsucker appears in front of me. She's gorgeous, with a smile that hints of all sorts of hunger. I wet myself, just a little. She stands there, gloating.

I frantically fumble for my crucifix. Before I can get it, she grabs my hand with a grip of iron, not smiling anymore. Her teeth extend, and horror overtakes my mind. I feel wet on my neck. But wait, she's not biting yet!

With a shriek, she jerks back. A single raindrop tears a hideous furrow across her face. She's not so pretty anymore! I pull out my crucifix with one hand, and the squirt-bottle of holy water with the other. 'Eat pain, Bitch!' I bellow, squirting and squirting without mercy. I watch her smoke until she shuts the hell up screaming. The dust she leaves behind smells good. The icy winter rain, so seldom seen up here, gently washes it off the rocks.

My blood's up, now. Maybe I can even the odds a little!