by Hatchett
“Don’t know, but they’re in boats on the river,” Dave had replied.
Issy could tell that Dave was running from the pounding footsteps and heavy breathing.
“We’ll send help,” she’d shouted and heard Dave saying ‘Too late’ before there was the sound of a massive explosion and the phone went dead.
Jack and Daniel had heard Issy’s side of the brief conversation and watched as her face changed from concern to anger. They didn’t need Issy to tell them what had happened at the end of the call because they had heard the explosion for themselves. What they didn’t know was who had called.
“Battersea is under attack,” Issy had said hurriedly as she hit another quick dial number on her phone.
“Get the Apache up and head to Battersea. They’re under attack from boats,” she ordered once the connection had been made.
She began running across the courtyard, screaming orders as she went. Daniel chased after her, leaving Jack standing there, beginning to feel old and useless.
By the time Issy had reached the Lynx sitting on the grassy square, the pilot already had the rotors turning. Issy jumped into the back, followed by Daniel and two other soldiers who happened to be standing nearby.
The Lynx had taken off and swung West, quickly eating up the eight kilometres between the Tower and Battersea as the crow flies. Issy used the journey to order the Chinook and a squad of soldiers to fly to Battersea Park to search for survivors. Bear and Irish took the opportunity to get involved by leading this team. They already knew that Battersea Park was a kilometre from the helipad, so it was unlikely they would get there in time.
As they were approaching Battersea, the Apache caught up to them and together they swooped down until they were just above the river and followed its course, looking for the attackers. The boats weren’t hard to spot, being that they were bright white and the only things moving on the river.
“Which boats should I hit? I’ve only got two missiles,” had come through Issy’s headphones from the Apache pilot.
“The biggest,” Issy had replied without thinking or looking, and it was soon too late to change her mind as the two Hellfire missiles were released.
Issy had stretched up to look past the Lynx pilot and saw the two missiles hit the larger boats and explode. She spotted another four smaller boats, rushing for the side of the river and almost immediately realised that Mamba – she was certain this must all be down to him because who else would have the weapons and nerve to do something like this – must be in one of the smaller quicker boats, more than likely the one at the front. It’s where she would have been.
She sat back down in the rear cabin and leant over to one side and quickly opened the door and slid it back.
“Get me over those smaller boats,” she ordered as she readied her MP5.
The Lynx flew over the carnage and smoke before banking and coming around until it was hovering over the four boats next to the riverbank. Issy started firing at the attackers below and was quickly joined by Daniel and the other two soldiers.
She emptied her clip and, as she was reloading, she spotted figures running away across a small park, the one in the front looking over his shoulder as he ran. Issy was certain it was Mamba, and the taller one close behind him had to be Ahmed.
She clicked her magazine into place and aimed towards the fleeing figures, knowing that they were already too far away for an accurate shot from a hovering helicopter, but it didn’t stop her trying.
The bullets kicked up bits of turf and ricocheted off the stone pathways, but she was pretty sure she hadn’t hit anything useful before the clip ran out.
As she reloaded, she gazed below her, seeing nothing but devastation and dead bodies. Daniel and the two soldiers had stopped firing and were also looking to see if there was anyone else still alive. The larger boats were still burning in the background and the bits of debris were beginning to float downriver. The four smaller boats were beyond repair next to the riverbank and there didn’t appear to be any survivors. A crow settled on the prow of one of the boats, investigating the bodies strewn across it. Zombies were slowly entering the park from all directions, attracted by the noise.
“Take us down,” Issy ordered.
The pilot looked at the park below, his focus on the trees.
“I can’t get down there,” he said apologetically.
“Just get us as close to the ground as possible and we can jump.”
“You sure?” he asked in surprise.
“Yep.”
The pilot saw the determined look on Issy’s face and knew it would be pointless to argue. As he banked and flew the Lynx into the park, Issy delved into the compartment below her seat and pulled out a box of freshly charged earpieces and handed them around.
“Are you sure about this?” Daniel asked, as he pulled his headphones away from his ear to insert the earpiece.
Issy simply nodded and pulled out some spare magazines and filled her pockets, handing more spares around. Then she took some ready-made jars of zombie blood and started rubbing it over the top half of her body, hoping it hadn’t passed its sell-by date. Once she was finished, she handed the jar around so the others could do the same.
Daniel took the jar and grimaced as he scooped out a handful of guts and started spreading it all over. He didn’t think he would ever get used to this horrible practice.
The heli decreased height slowly until it was hovering ten feet above the ground, the pilot confirming that it was lowest he was willing to go, otherwise the rotors might hit a large bush or the lower branches of a nearby tree.
Issy scooted until she was sitting on the side of the helicopter with her MP5 slung across her back. She looked down and was pleased to see grass below her. She turned to give the pilot a thumbs-up. Then she swivelled around and lowered herself over the side until she was dangling from her fingertips, then let go.
She landed on bent knees to cushion the fall and immediately took out her knife and stabbed a zombie which was crawling a little too close for comfort. She was pleased to see that the wash from the rotors had knocked most of the nearby zombies down and they were now all crawling in her general direction.
Issy moved to one side to allow the others to jump down in turn, then the four of them started moving towards the end of the park where Mamba had disappeared. Behind them, they heard the helicopter’s engine increase in pitch as it increased rotor speed and gradually increased height before flying away.
As Issy reached the far end of the small park she spotted a small passageway between the buildings and veered towards it, certain that Mamba must have gone that way.
65
Day 30 – 16:00
Chelsea
Mamba saw the narrow and curving passageway between two buildings and sprinted into it without any second thoughts, his MP5 pointing out in front of him in case he needed to shoot anything in his way. He loved London with all these little streets and passages all over the place, it made escaping a piece of piss.
He heard a loud shout behind him and a few seconds later Dev shouting ‘wait up’, so he stopped and turned around. He saw Ahmed sitting with his back against the passageway wall, holding his leg and his face screwed up in pain. Dev was standing over him and looking down with concern.
Mamba quickly retraced his steps until he was next to them just as Faruk, Ismet and Emre came running through the passageway and screeched to a halt.
“What the fuck’s the matta?” Mamba said.
“Ahmed’s been hit,” Dev explained, pointing towards Ahmed’s leg and the blood seeping through his fingers.
“Ah fuck, man! How bad?”
“Scratch,” Ahmed replied, grimacing.
“Let’s get him up,” Mamba ordered, going to grab Ahmed’s arm.
“Nah, man. Go. I’ll only hold ya up ‘n leave a trail.”
Mamba looked at Ahmed, then towards both ends of the passageway wondering what to do, then finally looked back at Ahmed.
&nb
sp; “Go bro,” Ahmed said, handing Mamba his Glock pistol and MP5. “They won’t shoot an unarmed man.”
“They might fuckin’ shoot ya on principle,” Mamba retorted.
“They won’t. Go. I’ll hold ‘em up ‘n give ya time ta get away.”
Mamba took the pistol and put it in one of his pockets.
“I’ll come get ya,” Mamba said earnestly.
“I don’t doubt it,” Ahmed replied.
They stared at each other for a few seconds before Mamba nodded solemnly.
“Let’s go,” he ordered, turned, and started running towards the end of the passageway.
Faruk and Ismet followed immediately without saying a word. Dev and Emre both patted Ahmed on the shoulder and followed.
Ahmed watched them go, closed his eyes, and smiled.
66
Day 30 – 16:00
Chelsea
Issy entered the passageway at full speed, hearing Daniel urging caution through her earpiece in case it was a trap. She slowed and followed the curve with her MP5 now up and facing forwards, the other three close behind.
After ten metres she saw a figure sitting against the wall and came to an abrupt stop, her MP5 automatically finding the target and hovering steadily in case the figure reacted. The three behind her did likewise.
“Don’t move!” Issy ordered, creeping towards the figure.
As she got closer, she recognised Ahmed. Her eyes darted further along the passageway to see if there were others and that this was indeed an ambush, but the passageway was clear. She focused back on Ahmed and saw that his eyes were closed, and he had a small smile on his face.
When she reached him, she saw that he was holding his leg and that there was blood all over his hand and fingers.
“Gadge, Jez, check where they went. Daniel, pat him down.”
The two soldiers did as they were asked, cautiously working their way towards the end of the curving passageway with their guns up. Both were in their thirties and both had been in the army since leaving school. Whilst Gadge was six feet tall and had a dark crew-cut, Jez was shorter at five feet nine and had lighter coloured hair. They were both hard men and would do anything for Issy. They were just happy to have been in the right place at the right time to get involved in this little sortie, and hopefully bring Mamba down once and for all.
Daniel patted Ahmed down, pulling out two Bowie knives and placing them out of reach. He pulled out a couple of MP5 magazines, a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from other pockets. The whole time Ahmed just sat there unmoving but with the frozen smile on his face.
“You OK?” Issy asked.
Ahmed finally opened his eyes and stared at her.
“Hi Issy. Yeah, I’m fine, jus’ a scratch.”
“Cover me,” Issy ordered, setting aside her MP5 and picking up one of the knives. She moved Ahmed’s hand out of the way and carefully sliced his jeans so she could see the wound.
“Am I goin’ ta die?” Ahmed asked, still smiling.
Issy pulled out a small bottle of water and splashed some over the wound to remove the quickly drying blood.
“It’s only a fucking scratch!” she said, standing up quickly and raising her MP5, thinking that it was a trap after all.
Ahmed laughed, the sound echoing around the passageway.
“Only way I could get away from him,” Ahmed said.
“What?”
“Only way I could ever get away from Mamba,” Ahmed clarified.
“I don’t understand,” Issy admitted.
“Mamba’d never let me leave by choice. I felt a small punch on me leg ‘n saw the blood ‘n realised I could use it.”
“But why?”
“I love him like a brother, but he’s fuckin’ mad ‘n I’ve had enough of all this shit.”
“You’re joking!”
Ahmed shook his head.
“Can I get up? I promise ta behave.”
Issy took a few steps back and nodded.
Ahmed got to his feet, still smiling, and obviously not feeling much pain, if any at all.
Issy was in two minds. She wanted to chase down Mamba; it was a great opportunity because he was on the run without many of his men and had to be low on ammunition. On the other hand, she had Ahmed standing in front of her, looking like he was ready and willing to give up the fight.
“Is Ayla still alive?” Ahmed asked.
Now Issy realised what this was all about.
“Yes. Would you like to see her?”
Ahmed nodded.
Issy clicked her earpiece.
“Where are you, Elvis?” she asked the Lynx pilot. His name wasn’t really Elvis but had been given the nickname because of his infatuation with the famous American singer.
“In a little park three hundred metres North of where I dropped you off.”
“On our way.”
67
Day 30 – 16:00
Chelsea
Mamba left the passageway and ran straight across Townsmead Road into Lindrop Street. Getting as much distance as quickly as possible was key to his escape. He knew there weren’t many chasing him, but he was low on ammunition and didn’t like his odds if it came to a shootout. He was also concerned that Cobra would get other soldiers into the area, possibly some already on the ground and moving in to surround him.
At the end of Lindrop Street, he turned right into Stephendale Road and another right into Elswick Street. He could hear the others running behind him, although he could tell that some were dropping further back. He stopped and turned and waited until they all caught up.
“We need ta separate. Meet at ‘The Fox’ in Clerkenwell.”
Mamba was ready to turn and run off again when Emre spoke.
“When do we meet?”
“Whenever ya can get there,” Mamba replied derisorily, “but as quick as ya can.”
“But how do we get there? Where are we?”
“Fer fuck’s sake, Emre. How old are ya? Find a fuckin’ map or aim fer the fuckin’ Shard.”
A subdued Emre nodded and Mamba turned and started running again. Dev followed, trying to keep up with him but Faruk and Ismet slunk off in a different direction altogether, leaving Emre on his own.
Mamba had to admit to himself that he had no real idea where he was or where he was going. All he knew for certain was that he was somewhere in West London and North of the river. As far as he was concerned, he just had to head East. The priority was to get as far away from this area as quickly as possible and he would worry about finding a map later.
He came to a T Junction at the end of Elswick Street, but instead of turning North, which was the obvious thing to do, he decided that it might confuse anyone trying to follow him if he headed back towards the river. So, he turned South onto Bagleys Lane and stopped in surprise sixty metres later when he found himself back on Townsmead Road. Despite all the running, he’d gone in a circle and almost ended up back where he’d started.
He quickly darted back into Bagleys Lane and glanced around the corner and saw that the passageway, was just a hundred metres or so away. What a monumental cock up, but thankfully there didn’t seem to be any movement and he hadn’t been spotted.
As he watched, a panting Dev arrived by his side.
“Get lost,” Mamba said, without looking.
“What’re we doing, man?” Dev wheezed.
Mamba ignored him, and seeing the coast was clear turned left and started sprinting again. If any soldiers happened to see him, he was fucked.
After a few metres he realised that Dev was still following and swore under his breath. He saw a train sign indicating a station called Imperial Wharf and quickened his pace even more. He’d never heard of the place, but at this precise moment, it was as good a place as any. He ran over two roundabouts and under a railway bridge then saw steps up to the railway platforms.
He hurdled the barrier, took out a couple of zombies with his knives and ran up the two flights of steps to the platform. He
stopped, looked around and took deep breaths. There were a handful of zombies nearby, but nothing to worry about. He jogged to the end of the platform heading North and jumped down onto the tracks and started walking.
With each step, he began to feel a bit safer. He didn’t think there was much chance of anyone looking or seeing him on a railway track unless they brought in those fucking helicopters again. It was peaceful, which was good, and it would give him time to get his breath back and think things through. He took short steps from one wooden sleeper to the next to avoiding the uneven stones.
After two hundred metres, he stopped and turned to look behind him. He could still see black smoke rising from the damage he had created back at the river. He also saw Dev coming up the tracks, so he waited for him to catch up.
“Took yer time,” Mamba said.
“Fucking knackered, Boss,” Dev admitted, breathing deeply. “Haven’t done any exercise recently.”
“What happened ta the others?”
“No idea.”
“Come on then, let’s go.”
“How far?”
“How the fuck should I know? I don’t even know where we are or where it goes.”
“So, why we on here?”
“Duh! Ta get away.”
Mamba turned and started walking again, the MP5 bumping against his back with each step. He glanced left and right, seeing discarded litter amongst the weeds and on either side of the track. Beyond the fences were various factories and warehouses and Mamba briefly wondered if it would be better to find a decent hiding spot and hole up until it was dark. Then he realised he didn’t have a torch and came to the conclusion that he needed to keep going. He looked at his watch and saw it was just after quarter past four, so he had an hour to an hour and a half to gain some distance and find some supplies.
A few minutes later Mamba heard, then saw, a helicopter heading in his direction. He quickly dropped to the ground and lay still, telling Dev to do the same. The helicopter went right over their heads and disappeared into the distance, but they stayed in place until all sound of the aircraft had gone. Then they got back up and resumed their walk.
