They say it is an extinct race, a cabal of creatures that do not exist, if they ever did. Mythical is one word, legendary another, but I prefer the term ‘nightmares.’ For they exist; I have seen them.

  I see them every night, when I am supposed to be asleep. I hunt them, for they do not just threaten the existential stuff of dreams. They threaten our very physical existence, and we cannot touch them during the day, when the sun shines bright.

  The portals to their lands lie hidden deep in our waking minds. Few there are, who can travel those corridors while they are awake, and none can remain aware of the world around them when they do. It is ironic that the protectors need to be protected, even more ironic that some folk claim the vampires are a good thing, mercy killers, because there is no memory of the bad events that have been suffered, and people die in peace. But I say they are murderers, because if you don’t remember, then you don’t remember to resist, until the memories return.

  Because they will; they always do. Because memories are like blood, and, just as blood replenishes itself, so, too, do the memories grow back—if the vampires give them time.

  This, though, they rarely do, but they don’t let their victims die in peace; they feed them enough of what they’ve lost that they die in terror, torn by agonies of what might have been.

  The vampires are a sadistic lot, real, but rare, and rarely seen. Tonight, though, tonight we seem to have found ourselves in the centre of a plague, the dream portal opening in the centre of a teeming mass of the creatures, and depositing us in their midst. Fortunately, this land follows the rules of dreaming, and we are able to draw cloaks around us, so that we blend in with those already gathered.

  Or I thought we did, right up until the one closest me raises its cowled head and sniffs the air.

  “Prey.”

  The word echoes around us like distant thunder, ominous and not quite real. I stand my ground, turning my head toward it, and then looking in the direction it’s facing. I, too, raise my head slightly, and sniff. All around me, more of the creatures do the same. We are in a world of trouble.

  I take the edges of the dream, and think of matching my scent with theirs, hoping they are hunting by smell, and not some other sense. It works for me, but some of the others do not think of it in time, and they vanish from sight beneath a seething mass of teeth and claws.

  From some of the writhing clusters, I hear screams. From others, come the sound of frustrated vampires. I pull the flame thrower from the ether, drawing fire-resistant armor around me, so the heavy tank, hose and nozzle settle over the top, and then I drop the cloak and cowl.

  I am screaming as I fire, turning slowly on the spot and frying every living vampire in range. I douse them well, and then walk through them, until I find the crowd’s unburnt edge.

  Setting the next row on fire, I walk through them, each step taking me toward a screaming cluster that signals another protector, but one in need of help. When this tank empties, I discard it, and draw another from the connected dreaming I have prepared.

  I doubt, though, that I have prepared for this. Perhaps, between us, there will be enough.

  Flamethrowers are primitive, and not selective.

  I fire a short burst, aiming high and setting stooped backs alight. It is enough to make them drop their prey. I hear whimpering, but fire a second burst as the vampires straighten and turn toward me. They run, screaming, setting others alight as they flee.

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  Flamethrowers are more effective than any other weapon I know.

  Tanser looks up at me, eyes frightened.

  “Go back to the other side,” I command, but he shakes his head.

  “I don’t know how,” and I remember that the vampires have learned which of our memories to steal first. This is going to be a long night.

  “Follow me.”

  There is nothing else he can do, if he wants to get out of here alive. I only hope there are enough of us to get the wounded out successfully.

  “Give me a weapon,” he says. “I can’t draw one for myself, but I still know how to use one.”

  It’s a simple request.

  “You need armor,” I reply. “Show me where you keep it.”

  That memory is something they will have left intact, simply because they find it funny to toy with their victims. Apparently, there’s nothing funnier than a protector who knows he has gear, but can’t remember how to access it. I really hate these creatures.

  Tanser lets me into his head, and I pull his armor and weapons through. Now these fiends have two of us to deal with. Together, we fry our way to the next screaming knot of vamps, and pull Halley loose. Like Tanser, she’s lost any memory of how to get out of here, or the way fetch her gear. When she lets me into her head, it’s a mess, but I don’t let that out where she can see it. I just pull her gear and armor through, and we make for the next cluster of vampires.

  By now, there are enough flaming vampires running around that most of them are alight, or looking to evacuate. I pull more flamethrowers through for Halley and Tanser, and then switch to white phosphorous and a grenade launcher. Seems neither of them have thought of that.

  “But that’s…” Halley begins, and breaks off to deal with a vampire that’s seen the launcher and doesn’t think I should have it.

  Tanser says nothing, but he’s dealing with three of the critters, and is a little busy.

  We pull Kandy and Jess out from the centre of the next knot. They’re in better shape than the first two, simply because they were together. Even so, we were too late for them to retain their memories of how to relocate. I’m starting to worry, as I take out more distant vamps.

  I’m careful to aim near the three remaining clusters so as not to risk frying the protector buried within, and the five of us work toward the closest, as a knot of fire and the source of airborne destruction.

  I’m very, very relieved to see that we’re not the only ones making our way across the battlefield. At least three other protectors have managed to pull off some sort of trick to keep the vampires from attacking them. I wonder if it was the same one I invoked.

  I guess I’ll find out when we deal with the last of the gathering.

  This time, it’s Tanser and Halley who pull the protectors free. They’re worse off than any of the others, looking at us like we’re unknown heroes—which is disturbing, because we know each other well. I give an inward sigh, and lead them over the battlefield toward the closest team. The guy leading them looks as tired as I feel, and his four rescues have the same blank-eyed stare as my last two.

  Well, damn. This ain’t gonna be good.

  At least he smiles when he sees me.

  “Cinders!” he shouts, and I recognize who it is, and stop.

  “Who wants to see if I can get them home?” I ask, turning to my tiny pack of humanity.

  Their faces show puzzlement, but I’m not going to explain why I’m not talking to Deloigt.

  “Tanser,” I say, but he looks nervously around.

  “Are we done here?”

  I follow his gaze.

  “We’re about as done as we’re going to get,” I tell him, and hear footsteps behind me.

  “Del,” I say, turning to face him.

  “I can’t get mine home, either,” he says, and I wonder when he’s had time to try, while succeeding in rescuing four.

  “Me neither,” and this time I swear, because I didn’t even notice Kaps coming over to join us—and that kind of inattention can get us killed.

  “Feels like a trap,” says Halley, and Kaps, Deloigt and I reshuffle so that our rescues are inside a triangle formed by the three of us.

  “I didn’t know there were such a lot of them,” I say, giving voice to something that’s been bothering me. “We killed so many.”

  “We set them alight,” Kaps corrects. “Who says they all died?”

  “I saw them fall.”

  “Did they go to ash?”

  Actually, now that he mentions it, no. None of them went to ash. I glance around the battlefield.

  There are a lot of fallen vampires out there.

  “Have we ever seen them go to ash?” I ask, and even I can hear the quaver in my voice.

  Behind us, the rescued shift uncomfortably, and I glance back, thinking I’ll reassure them, but it’s me who needs reassuring. They don’t look right, not even Halley, and she’s the one that made me look.

  “What is this?” I whisper, and then I remember: I came in here alone; there’s no way Halley, or Tanser, or Kaps, Deloigt and the others should be in here.