Chapter 12
Another huge explosion rocks the Terminal 4 building to its core. There is no sign of the devastation ending, Dixon thinks as he looks around at the rest of his patrol, as all of their heads duck as if the roof is about to collapse in on them. All three look back at him, waiting for him to tell them what they are going to do. Dixon is at a bit of a loss, though, as the team was told to wait in the hangar for further orders that never materialised.
A strong smell of smoke has been building in the hangar since the first explosion hit and it is starting to become visible in the air. Dixon is positive that the building is on fire and spreading their way. They can just wait here like rabbits in the headlights; the orders they have been waiting for are clearly not going to arrive now.
Standing next to the table where he and his patrol had been sitting around chewing the fat, Dixon re-evaluates. Firstly, he notes that his fresh tea is fucked and full of dust, but nonetheless, he picks it up and takes a large scaling gulp from it. Nothing concentrates the mind like a fresh brew.
One thing that Dixon doesn’t have to concentrate on is the fact that their position is compromised. They are in a burning building which also happens to be full of ordinance waiting to blow it to kingdom come.
The situation outside the hangar does require his brain to work as the banging on the doors and roller shutters keep reminding him. They were lucky to make it back inside and secure the doors before the Rabids got to them. That is one thing Dixon has decided, to call them Rabids. He had thought the term was apt when Andy had first said it, but since he has seen them and fought them, it is even more so. The creatures literally are Rabid people.
If it weren’t so terrifying, it would be comical the way they had all run outside to look when the first explosion went off, only to hightail it back inside when the Rabids came at them. Luckily, two of the roller shutters were already down and the open one made it down just in time.
Their situation would be easier to calculate if it was just the four members of his patrol in the hangar. The patrol would gear up and get the fuck out of Dodge, but there are other people in the hangar with them. Of the seven others, some are civilians and some military, and even the military personnel are more used to loading bombs than fighting.
Dixon knows they have to evac their position, but how and to where?
“Suggestions?” Dixon asks the rest of his patrol.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Kim volunteers.
“Brilliant idea, Kim; any suggestions on how?” Dixon growls at him.
“We take that pick-up,” Kim answers, reining himself in a bit and pointing to a dated red pick-up truck with fire written on its door.
“We aren’t all going to fit in that,” Dixon replies.
“Us four will. Two in the front and two in the tail; we draw the Rabids away so the rest can escape?” Downey suggests.
“Umm,” Dixon sounds. That plan isn’t bad, he thinks to himself. It could work. What other options are there anyway? He is struggling to think of another and looks around at the other people, congregated a couple of meters away from them. The military personnel have their weapons and it would give them all a fair chance of escaping if his patrol drew the Rabids away. There aren’t any safe options, and the pick-up could be overrun as soon as it gets outside. If they stay inside the hangar, they are all doomed for sure; there are no other exits and Dixon has somewhere he needs to be.
“Okay, listen up,” Dixon says. “We are going with Downey’s plan. We take the pick-up and draw them fuckers outside away from the hangar. Downey, check that the pick-up is good to go. Kim, see if there are any other useful weapons around. Collins, get those people over here.”
“Where are we going to go, boss?” Collins asks.
“I’m going back to Terminal 5. Josh, his sister Emily and Alice are there. I intend to make sure they are alright, but that’s just me, if any of you need to be somewhere else then that’s fine, just drop me off.”
“What do you mean, desert?” Kim asks.
“I did not say that, soldier.”
“What do you mean then?” Kim persists.
“I mean that I am going back to Terminal 5. This base is compromised; you might want to leave, go back to base in Poole or wherever you want.”
“Well, the command room is in Terminal 5, so it sounds like as good a place as any,” Collins says, and the other two nod in agreement.
“That’s settled then, let’s get ready,” Dixon says.
The three men turn to head off to their tasks. Dixon waits, ready to speak to the rest of the people in the hangar, who Collins has started to roundup.
Dixon feels a kind of obligation to look out for Andy’s two children. He may have only known him for a few hours, but Dixon liked the man and they fought together; he now considers him a brother in arms, especially as he gave his life covering their retreat. Dixon is then forced to admit to himself that he is going back for Emily, really. That’s the least he can do for Andy. Josh and Alice are big enough to look out for themselves, so misplaced or not, he is going to look out for Emily.
The engine of the pick-up starts on the second attempt and Dixon hears Downey give the engine a few revs to make doubly sure it’s turning over properly. The reversing lights come on as Downey starts to manoeuvre it into position. Dixon’s attention is then taken over by the group of people Collins has finally managed to bring over.
“What’s going on?” a middle-aged man asks. He is the highest-ranking of the military in the group and as a Staff Sergeant, he actually outranks Sergeant Dixon.
“We have got to get out of here; the building is on fire and it is only a matter of time before the fire spreads into this hangar—and I don’t need to tell you what will happen then. So, we have come up with a plan,” Dixon says.
“And what makes you think that is your decision, Sergeant? I am the highest-ranking person here and we were just discussing options.”
“Okay, Sir, what did you come up with?” Dixon asks.
“Well, we haven’t yet,” the Staff Sergeant says sheepishly. “Tell me your plan and I will make the decision then.”
Dixon rolls his eyes. “Sir, with no disrespect. This is the plan that we are going to carry out, and it isn’t up for discussion. This is a combat situation and me and my team are best placed to deal with it. We haven’t the time to fanny about, Sir.”
The Staff Sergeant’s eyes drop, and Dixon knows the Staff Sergeant has deferred to him, so he presses home his advantage. “My team are going to create a diversion to allow you to all escape. We are going to drive that pick-up out of the roller shutter to draw all the Rabids—sorry, infected people—to it and away from the hangar. Once the area outside is clear, you all need to get out as quickly as possible. Go left outside and get into one of the buildings farther down where hopefully you will find safety. Agreed, Sir?”
The Staff Sergeant looks unsure for a moment and looks around at the people beside him, who look even more unsure than he does.
“Sir?” Dixon asks again.
“Yes, Sergeant, that sounds acceptable,” he eventually says.
“Very good, Sir. Wait until we are clear, and the infected people have taken the bait, Sir. Don’t move too soon, Sir, and have your weapons ready, in case you need them.”
“Okay, understood Sergeant.”
“With your permission, I will get my team ready, Sir.”
“Carry on, Sergeant.”
Dixon leaves the group before anyone changes their minds. He heads over to the pick-up, which has been parked facing one of the roller shutter doors a few meters away, ready to go.
“Downey, you’re driving. Collins, you’re shotgun and Kim, you have the pleasure of keeping me company in the tail. Is everyone kitted up?”
“Yes, Boss and we have found some more ammo, so here’s your kit,” Downey says, passing Dixon his rifle first.
“Thank you, Downey,” Dixon says as he attaches the rifle to its harness
at the front of his body. “As soon as the roller shutter is open enough, Kim and I will throw a spread of grenades under it, to clear the immediate threat. Then full throttle to get us out of here, understood?”
“You got it, Boss,” Downey replies with a smile on his face.
“Don’t go all Mad Max on us, Downey; we want to get there in one piece! Okay, in positions. Kim, press the button on my signal.”
Dixon climbs into the back tail-section of the pick-up, while Downey and Collins get into the cab. Kim takes up a position by the buttons that operate the roller shutter positioned on the wall next to it. His finger hovers over the green up button.
Dixon positions himself at the front of the cargo area, looking over the cab. He registers two places on the cab where he can grab hold of if needed on the ride before he bends down and retrieves three grenades from a holdall on the floor.
As Dixon comes back up, he is aware of the fear and adrenaline coursing through his body. It’s like an old woollen sweater to him now; it still scratches but somehow feels comfortable.
He looks over to the rest of the personnel and gives the Staff Sergeant a nod. The man looks petrified and his rifle looks cumbersome in his grip, but to his credit, he returns the nod.
“Hit it, Kim!” Dixon shouts as he drops the pins to the first two grenades onto the floor. He doesn’t hear the clatter of steel on steel as they drop, however.
Kim’s finger pushes the green button and immediately, the roller shutter lurches into life, its motor straining to lift the heavy door. Kim waits next to the rising door momentarily, as he too drops the pins from the grenades in his hands. When the door reaches about six inches up from the floor, he rolls three grenades into the ever-increasing gap. As soon as the last one leaves his hand, Kim bolts for the pick-up.
Even though Dixon is well versed in the art of throwing grenades and could hit an arms dump from thirty meters out, he waits. There is no point trying to be clever; if he were to miss the gap and a grenade bounced back into the hangar, the trip could be over before it starts.
As the shutter rises on its long trip to the roof and the gap opens, Dixon throws. The first grenade is in mid-air when the grenades that Kim rolled out explode in virtual unison. Their shock wave hits the roller shutter hard and it strains and rattles against its runners, threatening to blow out of them. Thankfully, the shutter stays within its runners and keeps rising. Dixon throws his three grenades in quick succession, their strike levers springing away as they go and tumbling to the floor.
All three grenades sail through the gap and bounce out beyond the shutter which is now about a meter up from the floor. Kim has jumped into the tail of the pick-up and has taken up a position ready to cover the rear. The pick-up’s engine revs. Downey isn’t taking any chances that it could die while he waits for the gap to increase enough for him to plant his foot to the floor.
As the gap increases, Dixon has his rifle trained on it. He is prepared to fire in an instant if any Rabids have survived the grenade’s explosions and come through. They don’t, and before the gap reaches the height Dixon was anticipating, Downey floors the accelerator.
The pick-up jumps forward and Dixon has to take evasive action to duck under the shutter’s bottom edge before it takes his head off. As he rises again, he slams his hand down onto the roof of the cab, partly in a rage that Downey nearly took his head off and partly to warn him to be careful.
Smoke fills the air outside and Dixon pulls up his Shemagh across the bottom of his face to breathe through, and it brings some relief. Some of the smoke is the residue of the grenades but, mostly, it is coming down from the fire and explosions that are raging away to the right at the front of the terminal building. Downey steers left out of the hangar, his way forward to the Terminal 5 building is blocked by helicopters in front of them. Dixon briefly thinks to himself that the explosions are going to travel all the way down and past the hangar as each helicopter explodes. He puts that thought out of his head; he needs to be looking out for targets, which at the moment are very sparse. That at least is good news for the personnel who remained in the hangar to make their escape.
Downey picks up some speed but doesn’t go mad. Dixon is looking for a gap to get through to cut the journey time down, as well as looking for targets. He sees one coming up and bangs on the top of the cab before he shouts down the side of the cab that a gap is coming. Downey sees it and takes it, turning right and slowing as he drives through the grounded helicopters.
Thankfully, the pick-up is soon nearing the end of the helicopters. Even Dixon started to feel slightly nervous and claustrophobic driving through the dark eerie hulks of machinery where anything could be lurking in the shadows. He consoles himself with the fact that they haven’t seen any hostiles yet and then curses himself for daring to think that.
As soon as Downey turns right out of the relative darkness that the helicopters cast, Dixon sees possible targets ahead, many of them. They are some way off still, up by the taxiways that lead to the long runway they need to travel up to Terminal 5. The only saving grace is that the way ahead is now wide and will keep getting wider as they go. Meaning they can stay left to avoid getting too near the inferno and explosions lighting the darkness ahead as if it were day and the sun was shining down.
“We have targets ahead,” Dixon shouts to Kim behind him. There is no point in saying ‘possible’ targets because he knows exactly what they are; he can tell now they are only that bit closer.
Downey steers over to the left side and accelerates onto the main taxiway heading for the runway. Dixon only realises now that Downey hasn’t turned on the headlights; he didn’t pick it up before, even when they drove through the darkness of the helicopters. It is a good move from Downey, keeping them as stealthy as possible as they approach the figures ahead. They will see the pick-up soon enough and at any moment now.
Dixon registers the first figure change direction and starts to run at the pick-up, quite a distance away. He doesn’t panic, warns Kim again and prepares himself for battle. Dixon crosses his left arm in front of himself over the cab, taking hold of an anchor point to steady himself, in case Downey takes evasive action. He then rests his rifle with his right hand across his left arm and pulls the rifle home into his shoulder. His legs move back slightly and spread to steady himself even more, pushing his weight into the cab. The pick-up bobs up and down on the road, making Dixon's aim constantly adjust to compensate.
He quickly gets into a rhythm but hitting a moving target from a moving position requires its fair share of luck as well as skill. The odds of him hitting a headshot are slim to none, so Dixon is going for the lower body and legs shot to increase the odds. He will shoot a short burst to that area to take the Rabids down. They won’t be hanging around long enough to worry about kill shots.
The Rabid changes the trajectory of its run to ensure it is on a collision course with the pick-up as Downey steers. They don’t run like humans, Dixon notes as he gets a good look at the Rabid’s form on the wide-open taxiway. It sways from side to side, its legs moving inconsistently, sometimes taking super-fast smaller strides which can then develop into impossibly long strides as its feet slow down and it almost glides across the ground. Occasionally, a long stride is followed by a leap and the Rabid seems to fly through the air. Dixon wonders whether it is running like that to use different muscles. Burning energy in one set of muscles until another is recovered and then switching style to use the fresher muscles? Whatever the reason, it works; the speed the Rabid reaches over a very long distance is frighteningly awesome.
The Rabid’s run has attracted others to attack, as they too have now seen the pick-up driving towards them. The first Rabid closes in and is almost in Dixon’s range. He knows how far these fuckers can jump and doesn’t want it airborne when he takes his shots. He needs its legs in his sights. Dixon prepares to let go his first volley. He aims short of his target to account for the speed of the Rabid and the pick-up. His finger squeezes the rifle’s
trigger, which is switched to automatic. The five or six bullets are fired in an instant, his shoulder accommodating the rifle’s juddering recoil.
The lead bullet explodes into the concrete just in front of the oncoming Rabid, missing its target and spitting up dust. Two or three of the following bullets do hit their target and as the bullets rip clean through the Rabid’s legs, they are taken from beneath it. The Rabid falls forward hard, smashing into the concrete of the taxiway. Dixon sees its head bounce off the rock-hard surface as its lead arm fails to stop its fall and snaps in two.
Downey doesn’t have to swerve to miss the forlorn body. He carries on straight as the body is left behind, where it fell.
Dixon doesn’t have time to pat himself on the back for his shot. He is immediately adjusting his aim to the next target. That’s one down but they are about to start coming thick and fast.
Targets are coming straight at the pick-up from several directions. Downey keeps the pick-up going straight on through. He doesn’t try to steer to avoid them, as tempting as it may be to get out of the way of the oncoming wretches. He keeps the pick-up at a constant speed and direction to give Dixon the most stable platform possible to shoot from. He knows that swerving around will give Dixon no chance of hitting his targets, and he will only change course if absolutely necessary.
As the pick-up starts to draw level with the inferno away to its right, Dixon feels the searing heat emanating from it. They are some distance away from the burning helicopters and building but that doesn’t stop the right side of his face drying out and heating up. He ignores the heat and the explosions. His focus is on the Rabids in front of him. He misses his next target and has to fire again, taking the Rabid down at the second time of asking. He readjusts and fires again, this time hitting his target first time.
Capital Falling Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 60
