Abruptly they were free of the press. Cold air blasted through the smashed window as Penny and Novak brushed glass fragments away, faces grim. They had to find a different route.
Mark drove another two blocks before cutting south again. This time the group had more luck, avoiding any swarm of Carriers. Will directed Mark to a small car park behind the Regiment building. An empty security box and gate barred their entrance. Will activated the gate with a swipe card, and two CCTV cameras tracked their movement through the raised barrier. Mark parked under a huge evergreen tree, its branches blocking the meagre light of the moon from reaching the ground. Climbing out, Mark surveyed the damage to his ute. The white paintwork was a mess of smeared blood and tissue fragments, and the panels were rippled with defects that would keep a panel beater occupied for a week.
Penny had to put her shoulder into the door and shove hard to free the damaged structure. Gravel crunched underfoot as the group headed for the covered rear door. Will took the lead, typing an access number into the security system. A red glow and discordant beep indicated rejection.
‘Shit, the codes must have been updated this week,’ he said, trying the code once more without success.
Mark swore under his breath.
‘Would they have updated the code on the weapons locker too?’ asked Novak, tension clear in his voice.
‘Possibly. I bloody hope not, but we’ll need to break in to find out.’
There was a window at waist height leading into the adjacent room. Novak took off his jacket, bundled it up and pressed it against the glass to muffle the sound as he rammed the centre with his nightstick. Penny cleared the left over shards from the frame with her hammer. Novak’s jacket was then thrown over the bottom edge to protect their hands as they climbed through.
Mark heard a crunch of a footstep to their right and was met by the security guard, still present after all. His skin was deathly pale, marred by a spider web of broken capillaries across his face, eyes bloodshot and unblinking in the glare of the sensor light above.
They needed to keep this quiet, the car had likely already attracted more attention than they wanted. Mark, suspecting the guard was infected, unsheathed the sword, stepped forward and rammed the short blade, point first beneath the chin and up into the base of the brain. The body went limp and dropped to the ground, dragging Mark’s arm with it. He placed a foot on its face and pulled the weapon free, before wiping the blade clean on the guard’s uniform. A brief inspection of the body identified a bite wound to the hand; few had escaped the flood of Infected the previous day.
After sheathing his blade, he followed the others through the window. A sweep of the ground floor rooms confirmed the site was abandoned. Will led them to a room, half of which was obstructed by a metal cage. A row of Austeyr rifles hung neatly on the far wall; ammunition was held separate, in crates on the floor. The metal of the cage was thick, if the Captain’s code didn't work, they'd be forced to abandon the weapons and return empty handed.
Will typed a code into the security pad. A green light flashed above the gate as it buzzed, and the electronic lock clanged backwards. Will made no attempt to contain a triumphant grin as he pushed open the gate and led them into the weapons store. Each person loaded themselves up with five rifles. Mark and Novak took an end each of an ammunition crate with a bundle of M9 bayonets thrown on top. Job almost done, they headed back down the hallway. A cursory inspection outside showed they were no longer alone. Six Carriers lurked in the carpark, drawn by the earlier noise of the ute and breaking glass. Novak hooked a finger for retreat and they backed down the hallway.
‘We need those bastards away from the car. I reckon two to draw their attention and keep them occupied, while the others load the rifles and ammo. Shall we draw straws?’
Mark glanced up at Will who nodded acceptance. ‘Nah, fuck that. This needs to be done quietly, without guns. The hospital’s only a block away, we can't afford to draw many more of them in or we’ll end up trapped. Will and me have the best training in the group to get it done,’ Mark said.
Novak looked pissed. ‘Are you trying to say something, army boy? I can take any of those brain-dead fucks,’ he said.
‘The only thing I’m saying, is that we’ve had more unarmed combat training,’ Mark answered, holding firm.
Novak was about to continue the argument when Penny interrupted.
‘If they want to play hero, let them. Number one priority is to get back to the Quad with the rifles. Let's just get this done.’ She turned to Mark, holding out her hand. ‘Give me the keys to the ute and we’ll load the guns.’
Novak’s teeth ground together with restrained anger, but he stayed silent. Mark laid his rifles on the floor then fished in his pocket for the keys.
‘Are there any other doors to the car park from this building?’ asked Mark.
‘Yeah, there’s one in the Officers’ Mess. Unlocks from the inside,’ Will said.
‘That’ll do then, give us five minutes and we should have them out of your way.’
Mark and Will both did a quick check of their weapons. Once satisfied everything was in order, they left for the Officer’s Mess.
‘Hey guys?’ called out Penny softly. ‘You only need to draw them away, no need for anything stupid, ok?’
Mark noted the concern in her eyes, despite her hard words earlier. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.’
It was always much easier to make light of a situation; better that than acknowledging the real danger to yourself and others. That only risked the mind freezing, and as far as Mark was concerned, inaction was the only guaranteed route to failure and death.
* * *
Penny was waiting in the shadows near the main entrance. She couldn’t see or hear anything from Mark and Will. They’d been gone ten minutes; surely they should have been through the door by now? As if prompted by her thoughts, a window further down the building exploded into a shower of glass shards. She looked back at the Carriers to find the focus of their attention successfully transferred. The ghouls moved away from the ute and lurched toward the breaking window to investigate. She eased open the door and another quick scan confirmed free passage to the ute. Penny wedged the door open, hooked five rifle slings over her shoulder and grabbed the handle at one end of the ammunition box. With Novak on the other end, the two of them ran for the ute. Penny’s muscles trembled with effort as she helped Novak lift the heavy ammo box into the ute’s tray, followed quickly by the rifles.
The sound of a fight was loud from the opposite end of the car park. Penny frowned to herself, it meant Mark and Will had either chosen to attack, or been trapped and forced to defend themselves. There was nothing she could do about it for the moment, they still had the rest of the rifles to load. Penny sprinted back for the next load, chest burning as the cold air ripped in and out with each breath. She skidded to a halt, gravel flying against the metal work of the Ute, and deposited the last rifles on board. Novak was close on her heels.
The two separated, Penny to the driver’s door, Novak to the passenger side. Penny yanked the key from her pocket, and shoved it into the door lock. A blinding pain speared up her right leg as her foot was pulled under the ute, causing her shin to smash into the base of the doorframe. Penny landed flat on her back, winded as she momentarily struggled to draw breath. Her right foot was tugged further under the frame of the car as her fingers scrabbled for purchase in the sharp gravel about her. A demonic snarl issued from the shadows beyond her foot.
The security light caught the eyes of a Carrier, reflecting dull red. The hairs on Penny’s neck stood on end, a sob of horror lodging in her throat. She stamped hard with her left foot into its face. Once, twice – but still it held on. She could now feel a savage clamp on the side of her foot; the creature was trying to bite through the leather of her boot. Penny changed tactic, bracing her free foot against the base of the ute and shoving her whole body backwards and away. It worked. Her attacker was drawn out from under the car int
o the open. Releasing her foot, it pushed upwards to hands and knees. Tangled hair hung down obscuring much of its face in shadow. The Carrier had been a young woman, probably from the university across the road. She wore the remnants of a pink singlet top above a short denim skirt. The right side of the shirt was torn from chest to lower abdomen, exposing mangled breast tissue and shattered ribs. Her legs below the knee were missing, only the bloody stumps of her tibia and fibula remained. A rumbling growl issued between smeared remains of lipstick and fractured teeth, like bubbling phlegm from a Rottweiler’s throat.
Penny scooted further back, drawing her legs away before the dead beast could latch onto her once again. She yanked the mason’s hammer from her belt. Taking the handle firmly in her right hand, Penny swung it overhead, driving the spiked end through bone at the temple, deep into the skull. The growl died on its lips, the eyes lost focus once more and it dropped with a crunch to the gravel at her feet. Penny braced a foot against the skull and wrenched the hammer free. Novak helped her to stand, then grabbed an arm of the corpse and dragged it free of the ute.
‘Are you ok?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, I’m all right. How are the guys holding up?’
Penny looked towards Mark and Will; they needed help quickly. Their fight was continuing at the other end of the car park, but Penny had no idea if they were winning or losing.
‘Novak, get in the ute,’ she said urgently.
Behind the wheel again, she revved the engine into life and sent gravel flying as she reversed and spun the wheel. The high-beam lights drowned the scene ahead in harsh definition. The men were trapped against the building, surrounded by at least five Carriers, multiple more lay on the ground immobile. Penny ground her teeth and stamped on the accelerator, aiming straight for the melee.
* * *
Mark looked out the window into the car park; four or five slowly-moving figures could be seen in the gloom outside. He tried the handle of the door – locked.
‘I thought you said this door opened from the inside?’ Mark whispered.
Will stepped past him for a closer look. The door was one large sheet of glass framed by a narrow wooden border. A new deadlock had been installed.
‘Cash must have been stolen from the bar one too many times afterhours, I reckon. There’re no other doors at this end of the building, we’ll be stuck going through the window at this rate.’
‘For fucks sake, you got to be kidding,’ Mark said. ‘Did you bring the pinch bar? Maybe we can lever the bastard thing off.’
Will raised it in his right hand. ‘Yep. It was the only piece of shit weapon left as I recall.’
He jammed the chisel shaped end behind the lock. The soft wood gave easily and the deep screws holding it to the frame began to pull free as he levered. The wood at the edge of the door started to bow inwards. There was a large crack as a split in the frame appeared, followed by an explosion of shattering glass as the entire pane disintegrated.
‘That got their bloody attention,’ Mark said as he looked past Will into the car park. ‘Maybe we should have volunteered to load the ute after all.’
Each Carrier outside had turned to the noise and now approached, mouths open and teeth bared. Mark loosened the blade in the scabbard and drew it out, the blade giving a metallic hiss as it slid past the rim.
Resigned to the inevitable, Mark stepped through the shattered doorframe, closely followed by Will. They walked a few paces forward and paused. Both men stood prepared, knees slightly flexed, up on the balls of their feet. The sword hung comfortably loose in Mark’s grip, like it had always been a part of him. Will held the pinch bar raised in both hands, point forward. The first of the walking corpses were only metres away.
In his peripheral vision, Mark saw Penny and Novak sprint for the ute. Time to begin. Mark lunged at the closest ghoul, stabbing the sword into its face. The blade deflected off the cheekbone, ripping free a slab of brown tissue. He regained his footing and followed up with a chop deep into the side of the skull. The Carrier dropped heavily to the ground, pulling Mark’s sword with it. He kicked the head free of the blade then looked around wildly for the next target.
Will had more luck with his first opponent, spearing the sharp point of the pinch bar through an eye, deep into the brain. It crumpled, sliding off the weapon to leave it free for the next attack. Two ghouls closed on Will from the right. One was a rat-faced man in the overalls of a mechanic, the other was just plain huge. A long beard matted with clotted blood hung over a distended gut. Will swung the angled end of the pinch bar at the closer of the two, burying the curved metal point into the bone above the rat-faced man’s ear. The bar lodged, jammed in the skull as the body fell to the ground. Will struggled to rip it free, he squatted and desperately worked the bar up and down.
A large hand gripped his forearm, ripping it away from the weapon with crushing strength. He tried to pull his hand away, but it was drawn inexorably toward the gore-rimmed mouth. The teeth clamped down on his middle and ring finger, biting clean through. Will screamed, small arterial spurts jetted from the severed ends of his fingers as he was wrenched closer into a bear hug. The clotted beard slimed over his face and into his mouth, making him gag. He kicked hard, trying to free himself without effect. The Carrier leant down into the angle between neck and shoulder and ripped free a mouthful of flesh.
Mark swung his blade into the neck of a mangled teenager, severing the spine. It dropped to the ground, unable to move its legs and arms, however the mouth still rhythmically snapped in rage. He thrust upwards with the point of the sword through the open mouth of a snarling woman, severing the brain stem. He heard Will scream to his right, and turned to find him deep in the embrace of the massive Carrier who was choking down a mouthful of bloody tissue. He stabbed his sword deep into the eye socket, the metal point grating against the back of the skull. The hulking mass fell backwards off the blade, releasing its grip on Will.
The two men turned and stood back to back. Will had regained the pinch bar in his left hand, the injured right clutched the bite wound at his neck to stem the pulsing of blood. Five more of the Infected had entered the car park from the street, attracted by the brawl. Mark and Will retreated to the edge of the building; the fight had moved them sideways from the doorway, cutting off their retreat.
The Infected mob snarled, lurching forward to continue the attack, their hunger insatiable.
The roar of an engine drowned out all other noise. Mark glanced to the side to find his ute accelerating towards them. He placed his hand on to Will’s chest, pushing him back up against the wall as he also flattened himself against it. The front of the car smashed into the group of walking dead, throwing them forward like spare pins, and swept past within a foot of the two men pressed against the brickwork. As the ute skidded to a halt, Novak and Penny spilled outwards, long handled mason hammers at the ready. Mark and Will joined them, moving between the corpses to cave-in skulls before they could regain their feet. Within seconds there was nothing but their own heavy breathing to be heard in the cold air.
Mark turned to Will, moving his hand gently away from his neck to inspect the injury. ‘Fuck, that looks bad. Sorry mate, I should have got to him sooner.’
Will grimaced at the pain. There wasn’t much to say, he knew as well as any in the group that he was living on borrowed time. The bite would kill him; it was only a matter of time until he became a clone of the mindless killers they had just fought.
Mark went back to the ute and returned with a roll of duct tape and a rag to bind into the wound. There was no large vessel injury, however he was still losing a steady amount of blood. The wound had torn a large segment from the trapezius muscle at the junction of neck and shoulder. He bundled the rag into a ball and pushed it tightly into the wound as Will ground his teeth together to suppress an agonized moan. Mark then wrapped the duct tape over the rag, and diagonally beneath the opposite armpit, across the back and over again, creating a tight ring of tape to hold the dressing
in place.
‘Sorry, the dressing’s pretty shit, but it’s the best I can think of at the moment,’ Mark apologised.
‘Somehow, I don’t think it’ll be the dirty rag that’ll kill me,’ Will offered with a weak smile. ‘You guys need to leave before any more turn up.’
‘Get in the car, Will, we can’t leave you like this while you’re still alive. Once you’re dead, I promise I’ll put a hole in your head before you turn – you won’t place anyone at risk,’ said Novak.
‘We still need that sound diversion to draw the crowd of Infected away from the Quad; I might as well do that. There’s no point you guys staying, leave me a rifle and a couple of mags of ammo and I’ll get it done.’
The others looked at him warily, not wanting to accept.
‘Don’t worry, I don’t plan on getting eaten alive – I’ll save a bullet for myself when it’s all sorted.’
Penny reached into the ute tray and withdrew a rifle, passing it across while Mark loaded two magazines of bullets.
‘Sixty rounds enough for you?’ Mark asked.
‘Plenty.’
The group stood awkwardly for a few moments more, then Mark reached forward and shook Will’s hand. ‘Good luck, mate. Make them fucking earn it, yeah?’ he said before turning away and climbing into the driver’s seat.
Plague War: Outbreak Page 9
