The Rule of Three (Extinction New Zealand Book 1)

by Adrian J. Smith

  “Jack! Leave it.”

  He looked up at her shout and turned. The Variants were only a few metres away now and closing fast.

  Dee swung her rifle up and shot the first target she could. Thankfully Jack dived inside the enclosure and Boss slammed the door. Jack reached down and wedged a piece of timber through the handle as Dee and Ben continued to fire the carbines.

  Dee glanced over to her husband. “Get the bikes.”

  Jack frowned and ran to the shed, Boss keeping close as he held onto George. Dee shook her head and refocused. She raised her borrowed rifle.

  Looking through the scope at the Variants, Dee couldn’t help but admire them a little. The Hemorrhage Virus had changed humans. Modified them into something else. Something almost beautiful, in an evil way. Killing machines. Perfect killing machines. The great white shark of the new world order.

  Man’s arrogance had finally led to his own downfall.

  Dee heard engines revving in the background and fired off a few rounds as the lead monsters slammed into the fence. She lost herself in the heat of battle and held her finger down on the trigger, screaming at the beasts. It was almost impossible to distinguish between the Variants. Their mutated bodies squished against the barrier holding them out, but as more and more creatures joined the crowd, the fence began to buckle. Dee shot another monster in the head. And one through the neck. No sooner had she killed those two than four had taken their place. The Variants stomped on the dead and scrambled over the buckling fence.

  Dee flicked her eyes to the retired SAS soldier fighting by her side.

  He glanced at her. “There’s too many of them,” Ben said, worry etched on his face. “Go with the others. I’ll hold them off.”

  Dee looked back at her husband sitting on the quad bike, George’s arms wrapped around him. Boss was standing next to a second bike.

  Dee slammed a fresh magazine in her AR-15. “I’m staying to fight.” She breathed out and fired at another Variant, taking a chunk of jaw off with her round.

  Ben chortled and joined her firing on the beasts. Side by side they fought, shell casings clinking as they hit the gravel path.

  The Alpha loomed into view from the back. As it moved forwards, the other Variants moved out of the way like the Red Sea parting for Moses. The Alpha bellowed, and the constant shrieks of the creatures stopped. The silence was so sudden and complete that Dee stopped firing. She blinked and let her rifle drop.

  “Keep your rifle up, soldier,” Ben ordered.

  Without warning, the huge Variant charged through the parted Variants. Each step he took shook the ground under Dee’s feet. Out of instinct, she fired at the lumbering monster. Her 5.56 mm rounds had no effect. She might as well have been hitting it with a feather.

  Ben grabbed her shoulder. “Move. Now.”

  Dee let Ben pull her away from the fence. She climbed onto the quad bike with Jack, little George jammed in between them.

  Dee gasped, shocked, as the Alpha crashed into the gate, tearing it off its concrete footings as if it wasn’t there. It stood in the now-open gateway and bellowed, a sneer spread across its deformed face.

  The rest of the Variant horde reached the gap and funnelled through. Now that they weren’t been fired on, the masses poured over the fence and the shrieking intensified.

  “Get us out of here,” Dee said. “Jack!”

  Jack gunned the engine, then tore off up the track leading to the summit.

  ***

  Jack worked his way through the gears, willing the Honda 420cc engine to go faster. His nerves were frayed beyond anything he could ever have imagined. Blissfully unaware of the virus for the first couple of days, it hadn’t been until he’d reached the hut and cell phone coverage that his nightmare had begun.

  The mad dash across the road-clogged countryside, his first encounter with the monsters, the family getting torn apart… His escape down the river, his capture and escape from the dam. And finding Dee, who had come to rescue him. It all flashed through his mind. He choked up at the thought. It would all be for nothing if he didn’t get them up this mountain.

  Shaking off the emotions, he concentrated on taking the bends of the road as fast as he could.

  Jack had hiked up this mountain many times; he hoped no trees had fallen down in the high winds that buffeted the area.

  We would be dead in minutes.

  He urged the bike to go faster as tree branches and vines whipped over his head. Faster and faster they sped, gravel from the road flicking into the underbrush. Even over the noise of the engines running at full throttle, Jack could hear the horrific shrieks of the creatures. Thankfully the road remained clear.

  George squeezed Jack’s arms tighter as he took a sharp corner too fast, lifting two wheels off the ground.

  “Careful!” Dee shouted above the roar of the bike.

  Jack risked a glance to the side. Ben and Boss sped along behind him. This was a dash to the top, a dash to live, to fight another day.

  Flying around another bend, Jack saw the stairs he was looking for. They would take them the last few metres to the lookout platform. Screeches and howls greeted him as he brought the quad bike to a stop and leapt off the bike.

  “Take the kids,” Dee said, lifting her rifle.

  Jack nodded and grabbed George by the hand. He took the stairs two at a time, his injured leg screaming in pain. Boss bounded up ahead and, reaching the ladder, held out his hand to George. Jack looked back and gawked in horror. Variants of every size and shape spewed out of the bush.

  — 31 —

  Dee watched Jack, Boss and George head up the stairs. Checking her rifle, she looked back down the road. Already some of the Variants were charging towards them, their reptilian eyes fixed on her and Ben. More sprinted from the trees. First a few, before a wave of mutated humans flooded the road. Inexplicably, they stopped about a hundred metres away from Ben and Dee, as if assessing them. Dee wondered if they were contemplating which limb to rip off first.

  Ben bumped into her as they backed up the stairs. She kept a bead on the massing horde. Slowly they made their way backwards until they were halfway to the platform.

  “Take out the lead runners first,” Ben whispered. “Aim for the centre mass.”

  “Okay,” Dee said. She spent a few seconds taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself. To focus on the fight for life she knew was coming. She strained her ears, hoping for the sound of the helicopter.

  “How long before the chopper?” she said.

  “Should be here in minutes.”

  Dee heard a deep, angry bellow as the lumbering frame of the Alpha Variant came over the crest in the road. Bones protruding from its shoulders, it stopped and tilted its head back, shrieking. The high-pitched sound echoed around the forest, so loud it rattled Dee’s teeth. She glanced at Ben, who was looking through his scope. His breaths remained steady and calm.

  The huge creature moved closer, gathering the beasts with him. Now that it was closer, Dee could see the decapitated heads alongside his own. She couldn’t help the shiver than ran up her spine, chilling her to her core.

  So that’s why they stopped. We are for you.

  “Run!” Ben yelled, firing his carbine.

  Dee reacted. Spinning around, she tore up the stairs towards the lookout. Ahead, the others were already clambering onto the platform. Jack yelled something to her but she couldn’t hear him. Finally the sound of the helicopter came thumping through the overcast sky.

  The last few days of running, fighting and surviving were catching up to her. She was emotionally and physically drained, spent. Willing her body on for one last shot at safety, Dee sprinted for the ladder. For Jack. For survival.

  Jack reached down, hand outstretched, his blue eyes willing her on. She grasped his hand and let him pull her onto the platform. She scrambled to her feet and spun, searching for Ben.

  ***

  Jack gasped in horror as the giant creature bounded up the stairs after the fleei
ng Ben. The soldier paused and fired a couple of bursts at the beast. The Alpha swatted away the bullets. For its size, it moved incredibly fast. Jack had just hauled Dee up onto the platform when he heard the thump thump thump of the chopper. Boss was standing in the middle of the platform, waving his arms and a red flare.

  Just a few moments more.

  Ben reached the ladder, turning and firing over his shoulder as he went. The leader was now only metres away, his minions fanning out behind him.

  Ben reached the platform and Jack rushed to help haul him over the lip. A ferocious bellow sounded out as the giant creature leapt ten metres into the air and landed on the ladder behind Ben. It pulled back one of its huge arms and speared Ben with a claw right through his side.

  Ben screamed in agony as Jack tried to pull him to safety.

  “Dee! Help!” Jack cried, his voice full of anguish.

  Jack turned, his eyes finding Boss’s. The teenager dropped the flare and rushed over. Together they wedged their feet against the railing. Ben screamed once more as they tried to pull him to safety. The beast ripped his claw free and raked it down Ben’s back.

  The Alpha swung his other arm at Boss, spearing him through his calf muscle. With a savage bellow and an insane glint in his eyes, he ripped off Boss’s lower leg, spraying blood over the teenager. Warm, red blood arced, hitting Ben and Jack.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  The chopper hovered above the lookout, the wash of its spinning rotors sweeping over Jack as he hung on to Ben. The blessed sound of the minigun firing pounded in his ears. The gunner swept the blazing rounds of hot metal death at the gathering mass of creatures. The Alpha raised it arms, shaking its claws at the helicopter. Jack breathed out and, using the distraction, pulled Ben onto the platform. Frantic, he glanced at Boss. Boss was shaking and staring down at his missing leg as blood soaked the wooden planks underneath him.

  Brrrrooooootttttttt.

  Jack saw Dee push George towards the lowering chopper but the little boy looked back, his eyes falling on Boss and the gruesome injury.

  “Take the kid and go, Jack!” Ben yelled, pain evident on his face. He winced and swung his rifle up to his shoulder. Without waiting for Jack’s answer, he fired it at the beast, point blank range, until his magazine clicked empty. The beast shook his head and slammed his claw into Ben, pinning him to the platform.

  Jack looked at George, conflicted. He wanted to get to safety but he didn’t want to leave this man to such a horrible fate. With an angry yell, he let go of Ben’s arm and reached over to pull Boss away from the Alpha. The poor kid was still shaking from the shock of his injuries.

  Dee screamed as George broke loose from her grip. Pulling out the screwdriver he still had in his tool belt, George charged, screaming at the Alpha and jammed the screwdriver into its eye.

  The Alpha let out a deafening bellow and released Ben.

  Dee sprinted over and helped Jack pull Ben and Boss into the chopper. A man dressed in a grey flight suit jumped out and hauled the injured Boss into the hold. He said something into the mike on his helmet, but Jack wasn’t paying attention, as the howls of the Variants had grown in ferocity. Dozens of them poured onto the platform as the helicopter lifted into the air.

  Two Variants leapt the remaining metres and hung on to the side. Dee shot one through the head and grinned as a soldier kicked the other into the air. It flung its arms in a windmill motion before dropping out of view.

  The minigun operators let loose, firing upon the Alpha, the bullets slamming into his tough bark hide. He howled up at the helicopter, swiping his huge claws at it in frustration. The gunner continued to fire. The Alpha howled once more, saliva dripping from its sucker. It jumped down from the ladder and retreated into the forest below.

  Strong hands grabbed Jack, pulling him and Ben deeper into the chopper. Dazed and confused, Jack sat on the cold metal floor as the chopper soared away.

  He could see monsters covering the road and stairs. They streamed out of the bush, howling up at their escaping prey. The fire still burned on the airfield, thick black smoke rising into the air. Jack let his eyes wander over the landscape and shook his head.

  He was alive. He had found Dee. He had survived. He had found hope amongst the tragedy of the last couple of weeks. Jack looked over to George and couldn’t help but smile at him. The little kid had saved them all. The smallest of souls can have the greatest effects.

  Finally, Jack looked over at his wife. She leant against the wall of the chopper, cradling the teenager’s head in her lap. One of the minigun operators was attempting to stem the flow of blood from Boss’s leg. Their eyes met and they smiled at each other.

  Jack found Ben’s eyes; the man with the long wizard beard who had risked his life to reunite Dee with him.

  “Thanks, mate. Thanks for coming to get me,” Jack said. He moved over and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  “No one left behind, soldier. That’s always been the motto. You go and be with your family, Jack.”

  They exchanged a look of respect, of shared experience.

  Is this what all soldiers experience?

  Jack nodded at the medic tending Ben’s wounds. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “He’s losing a lot of blood. All I can do is stabilise him until we get back to base.”

  Jack patted the medic and slid over to Dee, taking her hand in his. He just stared at her, tears of joy, mixed with sorrow, welling in his eyes. I made it. I found her.

  ***

  Dee watched Jack looking at her. No words needed to be said. They knew how lucky they were. They had survived. They had found each other amongst the chaos. Battered, bruised, wrung out, but alive.

  Stroking Boss’s head, she tried to reassure him. Tried to use her touch to say that it was going to be all right. She was no medical professional, but even she knew he had lost a lot of blood.

  The man in army fatigues tied a strap around Boss’s torn leg. “He’s going to need blood, and lots of it. What blood type are you, Ma’am?” he said, adjusting the strap.

  “Umm, O negative, I think,” Dee replied.

  “Perfect. Universal donor. I’ll get set up.”

  Dee looked into Boss’s eyes. “You hear that, kiddo? You’re going to be fine.”

  Boss murmured something. Dee leant closer to his lips. He kissed her cheek. “I’m Samaritan, so don’t bury me in the Jewish section.”

  A sobbing laugh escaped Dee’s lips. Even when facing death, he quoted Monty Python.

  Epilogue

  Jack stood on the cliff top watching the sun sink below the New Zealand mainland. The cooling salt air brushed against his healing skin.

  For two weeks he had stayed in the makeshift infirmary. When they’d first arrived, the army medics and surgeon had worked through the night to save Ben and Boss. Both of them had required long surgeries and litres of blood. Dee had stood vigil next to Boss, refusing to leave his side until he was in the clear. Jack visited Ben as much as the nurses allowed; the tough old goat was sitting up in no time. Jack discovered he was a fellow WWII enthusiast. Discussions about a familiar subject had helped the healing process for them both.

  Ben gave him some information about how bad it was out there in the world, while Jack told Ben of his experiences in the dam. He explained how he had made it out. They discussed the men they’d seen helping the Variants. Collaborators, Ben called them.

  On the long walks Jack took to calm himself, his mind replayed how he had killed the man with the red trucker cap. Even though he had no remorse, it haunted him. He had killed someone. Snuffed out a life.

  He reasoned that the man was a traitor. He’d betrayed his own kind to save his skin.

  Perhaps he had deserved to die.

  In Jack’s opinion, they all had to band together, man against monsters. They had to stop all this petty racial bickering because they were one race. The human race. These Variants were now the apex predators.

  One thing still bugged him
, though. How had he and George regained consciousness when no one else in that corridor had? He mused over this for days but couldn’t come up with any plausible explanation. Jack decided to let it go for now. They had bigger things to be concerned about.

  Thinking of George, he smiled. George had adapted well to his new surroundings, even finding a few new friends in the camp. They had him running around squealing in no time.

  Dee, Jack and George had spent the morning collecting manuka flowers from the many trees that dotted the hills surrounding the bay and camp. George had asked why they were doing this several times, and Dee had patiently explained that it was a way of remembering people. If truth be told, she and Jack had seen the ritual in a movie with Native Americans in it and had loved the sincerity of it. When Dee’s father had died, she and Jack had honoured him with the ritual.

  As they had no bodies to bury, this was the only way they could think of to honour those lost.

  Jack and Dee had discussed at length about trying to find Jack’s family. No one they knew had made it to Mayor Island nor any of the other pockets of survivors they’d had radio contact with. Jack insisted his family were smart. They knew about the cabin, so there was a chance.

  Jack could feel the sea breeze picking up as it came up off the ocean and met the volcanic island. Perfect, he thought, smiling.

  Crunching on the pathway behind him warned of people approaching. Turning, he watched in admiration as Boss, using crutches, his lower right leg bandaged at the stump, walked along behind the others.

  Boss had stayed in the infirmary for a further two weeks. The nurses had finally let him out, for a short time at least.

  “You guys ready?”

  “Yup,” they chorused.

  Jack let out a nervous sigh. “We are here today to honour and remember those who we lost. We lost friends, family, pets, everything. But amongst it all, we found each other. We drew strength and courage from each other. These brave men and women on this island, and Ben, who helped us; they give us new hope so that we can carry on. We owe it to others’ sacrifices that we carry on, not only for them, but for ourselves.”