Shards by Shane Jiraiya Cummings

137th
get?"
    "They made it to the Bankstown
complex, where they were pinned down. Without their support, our
main mechanised infantry column didn't last long when the vamps
sprung their trap."
    The President reclined in his
chair, lost in thought as he steepled his fingers together.
Whatever those thoughts were, they didn't touch his eyes. Nothing
did.
    "Mr President?" Darren
prompted.
    "What's the status of their
feeding camps?"
    "The army didn't make it to
Homebush." Darren shook his head. "Reconnaissance flights confirm
the camps at the SCG, North Sydney, Chatswood, Newtown, and
Cronulla are still in operation. We suspect they're holding
thousands more in the CBD, concentrated around Martin Place."
    "And the fighter sweep?"
    "We cleansed twelve city blocks
and most of Redfern in the strafing run."
    "Losses?"
    "We gave them everything, but
when the vamps' magnetic arrays and missile defences kicked in,
they took out the entire wing. By all reports, it was a swift and
brutal fire-fight."
    "Yes, fire ... that's the key
..." President Smythe trailed off and stared at the concrete
ceiling. The Australian flag hung limp behind him, its spirit as
defeated as Darren's.
    "What do we do now?" Darren
gripped the edge of the desk in an uncharacteristic display of
emotion. They'd rolled the dice and lost. The defeat and the
emotional vacuum surrounding the President had all but sucked him
dry.
    President Smythe tapped out
rapid-fire commands on the keyboard embedded in his desk. The
low-slung monitor flashed the instructions up too fast for Darren
to read. Lines of light cast the President in a ghostly data
mask.
    "Sir?"
    "Today will be great day in the
history of the Australasian republic." President Smythe wove his
fingers together and resumed his meditative pose.
    "How do you mean?"
    "A new dawn will break over
Sydney at midnight tonight. Our last remaining strike bomber will
drop its nuclear payload on the city."
    "You can't! There's more than a
million people still trapped there! My sister ..."
    President Smyth eased his
collar open to reveal twin red moons on his neck surrounded by a
web of puckered veins. "They're already dead. She's already dead.
All cattle now, like I was."
    "But you escaped! Maybe we can
free the rest?" Darren tightened his grip on the desk.
    "Did I?"
    Darren edged away. The flag,
the phoney bookcase, and all the trappings of presidential power
stood mute to his turmoil. "What are you saying?"
    The President stared at his
aide with those unreadable black beads. He tapped at a single key
in compulsive repetitions. Within seconds, the metal door slid
open, admitting two Kevlar-suited soldiers. Both brandished compact
sub-machineguns. Vials of holy water were slung around their
necks.
    "Remove him." Smythe waved a
hand at Darren.
    The soldiers complied,
clutching Darren by the arms before he could react. He thrashed as
they dragged him through the door. The scuffle resounded to the
echo of stomping boots.
    "Don't do this!" Darren's cry
reverberated through the bunker. "Don't ... Valerie ..."
    His final glimpse as he was
dragged away was of President Smythe's dead eyes staring back at
him and the Australian flag standing wilted in the glow of Smythe's
computer screen.
    In that moment, the inevitable
became clear to Darren: monsters beget monsters. The vampires that
terrorised Sydney would be vaporised, but in the instant Smythe
burned a hole in the sky, all hope for rebuilding Australia's
future would burn along with it.
    * * *
    Memoirs of A Teenage Antichrist
    January 28
    Crows gather at my window,
especially at night.
    It's a full moon tonight.
Thirteen crows are there, staring in at me from the tree. One of
them scratches and pecks at the glass. The rest caw amongst
themselves. Sometimes, just sometimes, I think I know what they're
saying.
    February 14
    I've started having nightmares.
Not your usual naked-at-school dreams. These are so vivid, I can
practically hear the screams and smell the burning flesh when