The Rule of Three (Extinction New Zealand Book 1)

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The Rule of Three (Extinction New Zealand Book 1) Page 12

by Adrian J. Smith


  “You, of course.”

  “I don’t think so,” Dee said. She breathed deeply and stepped closer to the smelly chemicals.

  “You’re funny. And cute too. This is going to be fun.” With his gun, he gestured towards a wooden pallet. “Go sit over there. If you seem like you’re enjoying it, I’ll put a good word in with the monsters.”

  The reality of the situation dawned on her. Rape. Even at the end of the bloody world, these bastards just wanted to live out their sick fantasies. Typical.

  “Guys, c’mon please. It should be us against the Variants. Not this!” Dee said. She held out her hands palms down, trying to pacify the situation.

  “Variants?”

  “Yes, Variants. The Americans call them Variants.”

  Missing Teeth stared at her. He frowned and his face reddened. Dee thought she saw a hint of confusion flit across his eyes before he spat on the floor.

  “Look, sweetcheeks, I don’t give a toss what some Yankee Doodle Dandy called them. Simon and I are going to have a little fun with you. SO MOVE YOUR ARSE, NOW!”

  Missing Teeth grabbed Dee by her shirt front and hauled her to her feet. Dee started screaming as loud as she could. Struggling against the man’s grip, she kicked out at his shins.

  “It’ll do you no good. It’s just us. Soon you’ll be with our monster friends. So kick and scream all you want.”

  Boss started struggling with Simon, trying to wrestle the gun away from him, but Simon was too strong, too quick. He leant back and swung the gun stock, connecting with Boss’s head in a savage blow. Boss hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  Dee watched him thud to the ground. “He’s just a kid, you bastards!” she screamed at the men.

  Missing Teeth and Simon laughed as they dragged her over to a wooden pallet covered with wool sacks. They started whooping and hollering like a couple of boozed-up teenagers.

  Dee fought with everything she had. There was no way they were going to take her. She had fought off guys before. She blamed the rape culture for the way men thought they were entitled to act. In a flash, a memory raced through her mind.

  A water-filled quarry. Dee and her friends were enjoying the last of the summer before university. A few drinks in the sun. She fell asleep under a tree while her friends swam out to the rock in the middle of the lake.

  Dee woke to a rough, calloused hand over her mouth and hands grabbing roughly at her. She struggled and fought like a trapped cat. Finally, she connected with a well-timed knee to the groin. The man tumbled off her, clutching his balls. He rolled around on the ground, cursing at her. A red mist descended over her. She picked up a nearby rock and smashed the man in the head. Again and again and again. Another man Dee hadn’t seen tackled her, knocking her to the ground and out of her rage. Seeing her friends running up from the lake shore, the second man ran off. Dee looked down at the rock she still held. She could see blood and grey brain matter, and tiny fragments of skull. She promptly doubled over and vomited.

  The police arrived and took Dee away in an ambulance. Later they arrested her for manslaughter.

  A lengthy emotional and soul-destroying trial ensued. It exposed Dee to a very corrupt and male-favoured system. Psychiatric evaluations deemed her fit for trial, but thankfully she was found not guilty by means of self-defence. The media called her the mouse that roared. The rapist’s family yelled daily abuse at her. After that, she withdrew from society, finding comfort in books. In movies. In gaming. Where people are essentially anonymous.

  It took meeting a special guy to bring her out of her shell. To live life on the outside again.

  Dee would always remember the stench of her attacker’s breath. A mixture of cheap bourbon and cannabis.

  — 21 —

  Thinking of her past gave Dee strength. She reached down inside herself and began to struggle as if her life depended on it. She scratched. She kicked. She ripped her fingernails over Missing Teeth’s face and bit into his hand.

  “Hmmm… I like it when they fight.” He grinned down at her. “Hold the bitch’s legs down.”

  Simon grabbed both her flailing legs in a vice-like grip. Together, the men managed to wrestle her onto the pallet.

  She looked up into Missing Teeth’s eyes, silently pleading with him. Searching for some decency. Hoping to change his mind while looking into his eyes. Hoping to ease the evil in his soul. Anything to stop what was about to happen.

  Dee didn’t hear the first gunshot. Missing Teeth’s head exploded, brains and skull splattering all over her. The sight of his lust-filled eyes seared into her memory. His body slumped, pinning her legs.

  She heard the next couple of shots and saw Simon look down at the gaping holes in his chest. His lifeless body toppled over. Dee shuddered and pushed Missing Teeth’s body off her. She stood and stared down at his nearly headless body and she spat on him.

  Asshole.

  “You all right?”

  Dee spun towards the source of the voice. A stocky, muscular man with a long wizard beard and white hair approached her. He was dressed in green cargo pants, a green shirt and a black combat vest filled with magazines and even a grenade or two.

  “You all right?” he asked again.

  “Y…Yeah, I think so.” Dee shook her head. Too many things were happening at once today. “Boss?”

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Boss. Sorry, I mean the kid?”

  “He’ll be fine. He took a nasty blow to the head, though.”

  “Thank you,” Dee said, kicking Missing Teeth again. “I’m Dee. I call the kid Boss.”

  “You’re welcome. Ben. Ben Johns.” He glanced around, eyes alert. “We need to move, I don’t know how many of those creatures have been alerted by the gunshots.”

  “At this time of day?”

  “Yes,” Ben said. “Let’s grab the kid and go.”

  “We’ve got a boat tied up down at the river. The Variants won’t come in the water.”

  “Variants? You call them Variants too, huh?” A bemused look crossed Ben’s face.

  Dee’s head snapped up at the distant sound of shrieks.

  “Umm, yeah, ah. Boss had an old ham radio going and he talked to some Americans. They called them Variants.”

  “Right. Well, the Variants, they are smart bastards, and fast. Why don’t you come back to my bunker? I’ve got food, water and medical supplies. It’s held them out for now.”

  She searched Ben’s eyes and found honesty and kindness. She nodded, more to herself than to him. “All right, thank you.”

  Ben and Dee grabbed an arm each and hauled Boss to his feet. He was coming to, but was still groggy. Ben led them to a 4x4 parked next to a red ute, his eyes constantly flicking around.

  Dee could hear more shrieks but the Variants remained distant for now. If Ben felt any panic, he didn’t show it. Dee observed the way he moved. Fluid. Alert. Completely aware of his surroundings. Like he knew where everything was located. Exit points. Everything.

  They pushed Boss onto the back seat and laid him down. Dee grabbed one of the fleece jackets they’d found and placed it under his head.

  Ben eased them out of the farm driveway and onto the sealed road. He pointed the 4x4 east and picked up speed.

  “Here, use these to clean some of that muck off you.” Ben handed Dee some tissues.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m not far. About fifteen minutes.”

  She nodded. She couldn’t figure it out. Why had Ben been there? She was more than grateful, of course. She looked down at the rifle sitting between them. It was black, but had a long, fat, extended barrel. It looked military. Not like the ones her dad used to use. Ben looked and acted like military. With shooting like that and the calm way he acted, she guessed he was ex-army.

  “So. Look, thanks for saving us back there.”

  “You’re welcome. I couldn’t stand by and let them do that. It’s not right. Even in these terrifying times, there are rules. Moral rules.” Ben glanced
over, smiled, and stroked his long bushy beard.

  Dee could see by the expression on the old man’s face that he was telling the truth. She decided she liked him already. Plus, he seemed really handy with a rifle. If she wanted any chance of finding Jack, she needed Ben. His expertise.

  Till now she’d been extremely lucky, but luck will only get you so far. She knew she reacted well under pressure. A calmness would come over her as if time slowed down and she saw the way out. More than anything, she wanted to survive this. She wanted Jack back. To take them all to the valley, to start afresh.

  “Ben?” Dee said, picking and brushing the last of the skull fragments off her chest and arms and trying not to gag.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m curious. How did you know we were there?”

  “I didn’t. But I knew they were. I’d been tracking their movements for a few days.”

  Dee looked at Ben, startled. Tracking them? For a few days? Why? She opened her mouth to ask, but Ben slowed the 4x4 down and turned onto a tree-lined driveway, magnolia trees creating an avenue.

  “We’re here,” he announced.

  Dee looked down the drive and could see it curving up behind a small hill. As the 4x4 got closer to the hill, a house nestled into the leeward side came into view. It looked as though the walls were made of earth and she could barely make out the roof line. Wildflowers covered it.

  Ben pulled up around the back, next to a large utility shed. This too blended into the surrounding countryside.

  Ben and Dee half-dragged a semi-conscious Boss out of the 4x4. Ben indicated with a tilt of his head towards a side door. Entering the house, it struck Dee how warm and dry it was. And with the door closed behind them, the silence was complete.

  Jack would love this house. It looked like a safe place, retreating a good ten metres or so into the hill.

  Ben guided her and Boss past some shelves towards a couple of bunks in the back left-hand corner of the room. Dee struggled with the deadweight that was Boss. Pain shot up her arms and the muscles in her lower back started to cramp. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, watching the smooth concrete floor as sweat dripped off her forehead from the exertion. Once there, they gently laid Boss down.

  “First aid and medical supplies are in here.” Ben pointed to a large medical cabinet on the wall. “I’m heading outside to lock up and set the sensors.”

  “Thanks Ben,” Dee said. “Oh hey, do you have any fertiliser? We used to use it to mask our scent.”

  Ben picked up a large twenty-litre container, grinning. His sharp eyes appraised her. “Not just a pretty face, are you? I use this. Industrial grade disinfectant. I’ll be back.”

  Dee watched him go. Normally she would be offended by such a remark, but Ben was an up-front guy. A spade was a spade. She busied herself cleaning out the wound on Boss’s head.

  Boss tried to get up, tried to speak. Dee helped him swallow a couple of painkillers and pushed him back down. “Sleep, Boss.”

  She heard Ben come back into the room and the huge steel door shut with a clunk. Dee got up and walked over to him. He slid thick bolts across the door, locking them in. Happy that they were secure, Dee turned and took in her new surroundings. She was impressed to see block walls all around. The concrete floor she had already noted. To the left and right were shelves filled with food, water and plastic containers. Three shelves on each side, making six in total, with a gap in the middle forming a corridor reminiscent of a supermarket. She couldn’t quite see the back of the room through the shelves. Turning to her left, she saw a rack behind a cage door filled with guns. She recognised a couple of shotguns and a few more of those same rifles Ben carried with him. A row of handguns and boxes of ammunition were stacked on more shelves.

  Dee let out a whistle. “That’s a lot of guns. I feel like I’m in the Matrix.”

  Ben grunted and walked with her towards Boss. “How’s he doing?”

  “Just concussed, I think. I gave him some painkillers, so he’ll sleep it off.”

  “Good. I’m glad. Poor kid. He took a real knock to the head. If you want, I’ll show you around my humble abode.”

  Dee nodded, only too glad for a distraction.

  “It’s no bomb shelter, but it’s kept those Variants out so far. They’re getting bolder each day.”

  Dee followed him to the back right-hand corner where two rooms were separated from the rest of the structure.

  As Ben opened one door, he pointed to the other. “Bathroom with chemical toilet in there.” He nodded towards the opened room. “In here is where the fun happens. This is the war room.” He gestured for Dee to enter.

  Dee gasped. A desk with four monitors and a keyboard lined the back wall. Two of the monitors were on and she could see camera feeds from outside. A stack of radio equipment lay on the table on the right-hand side, static hissing from the attached speakers. A large table covered in maps was set against the other wall. Dee could see Ben had been marking red Xs through the surrounding small towns, and the town of Cambridge was scribbled out.

  “Wow, you’re organised. But how are you getting power to run all this?”

  “Solar. I’ve got a bank of them down the hill a bit. It’s enough to keep this going, just. Also gives me a little hot water.”

  Dee went over to the map. “I suppose this means no survivors?” She pointed at the red Xs.

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  Dee traced the river north from Cambridge up to Hamilton. A big red X was drawn through it.

  How had her basement group gone undetected? Not only from the Variants but from the collaborators too.

  She looked at all the surrounding towns. Te Awamutu, Morrinsville, Huntly. All had red Xs through them. Dee rubbed her eyebrows and reached down to her neckline, desperate to feel the reassurance of the necklace Jack had given to her as an anniversary present.

  So many red Xs. It started to really sink in just how fortunate she and Boss had been.

  Was it luck? Common sense? A bit of both? The Hemorrhage Virus had hit so fast, so furiously, that it had caught everyone but a few by surprise. She and Jack loved post-apocalyptic fiction. The more they read, the more they’d thought: What if? What if something did happen?

  They’d thought they were prepared for it. But fate was a funny thing. They’d never taken into account where they would be when it hit.

  Now Jack was God knows where and Dee was here. In a bunker. Safe. For now.

  Ben took Dee back to the main living area, to all the shelving units stacked with supplies. Pointing to each row in turn, he said, “Food. Clothes. Survival gear, like tents, etc. Batteries, that sort of thing. I don’t have any women’s clothes, I’m afraid, but you’re welcome to try and find something to fit. Feel free to have a shower too, but please, five minutes only. Very limited water supply.”

  “Ben, you’re an angel.” Dee’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you for your kindness, and for…” she gulped, unable to voice her thanks further, and waved her hands.

  She could see Ben understood, his eyes growing soft. “You’re welcome.”

  Dee nodded and started to select the smallest clothes she could find. Though little might fit her, she just wanted fresh clothes. She could still smell the stench of Missing Teeth on her. Shuddering in disgust, Dee headed to the shower.

  — 22 —

  The cool night air caressed Jack’s skin, causing goosebumps. He leant his head back against the wall and looked down at the sleeping George. Smiling, Jack was amazed at how well the kid had adapted to this new hidey hole. They had hidden here since escaping and had eaten half the supplies from his pack. George had been resistant to the protein bar and beef jerky, but had devoured the chocolate.

  Through the tiny window, Jack could see the moon. It was showing its half face. He estimated he had been down in this hell pit for eleven to twelve days. How had he survived with no water or food? For that matter, how had George? He was so small…so young at only eight (
maybe) years old. So much for the rule of three, then.

  Three weeks without food. Three days without water… Blah blah blah…

  Jack could feel some life coming back into his body from the food and water and now felt confident enough to attempt an escape.

  He needed a plan. As a teenager he’d been fascinated by WWII escape stories. Had read the small town library out. The daring. The ingenuity. Both were incredible.

  Gazing out the window, he could see his stars. His pinpricks of light. Millions of light years away.

  There is always a way out of any situation.

  All right, so we’re in the hydro dam. Surrounded by monsters that want to eat us. A man is helping them. I’ve probably got two days’ food at best. George’s mum, Sarah, is missing. Dee is God knows where. It’s dark and I don’t even have any sunglasses on.

  He couldn’t help but grin at his movie reference. He couldn’t even think of moving until at least midday, so he shifted his weight and closed his eyes. Nothing to be done till then.

  Eat when you can. Sleep when you can. Be ready.

  Jack woke to the sun shining in his eyes and George poking him in the arm.

  “Mister. I really need to pee.”

  “Ummm, okay, buddy. Can you hold on a bit longer?” Jack said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  George started squirming, a panicked look on his face.

  “I’m going to have to check if the coast is clear, all right?”

  George nodded.

  Jack jumped up on top of the lockers and searched the room. Seeing nothing, he reached down and lifted George up next to him. Pivoting, he dropped George down to the floor.

  “Sorry, buddy. It will have to be in there,” Jack said, pointing to the hand basin.

  Jack checked his watch as George washed his hands. He decided to risk some exploration and guessed the room they were in was a couple of levels down. Jack didn’t know the layout of the dam wall, but he trusted his instincts not to go down any deeper. He decided to stick to this level, for now.

 

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