Mark gave his shoulder a quick squeeze in thanks.
‘Jai and Penny are activating the speakers in the pit, we just have to hold out long enough for them to do their job,’ he said, passing an axe to Harry.
Harry grimaced at the weapon, it didn’t bode well, ‘How much ammo’s left?’
‘There’s a handful of magazines; enough to get the job done.’
Yeah, bullshit, thought Harry fatalistically. He swung the axe head deep into the side of a snarling face that broached the top of the wall next to his feet. Levering it free, he readied to strike at the next one.
They had maybe fifteen minutes before the Carriers breached the walls in numbers too large to manage.
Chapter Forty-Three
Jai eased his body between strands of wire in the fence to reach the other side, carefully avoiding the barbed wire at the top. Free once again, he burst into a sprint, rifle in hand and sword slapping painfully against his thigh with each stride. The sodden, calf length grass drenched his jeans and caught at his feet, threatening to trip him as he ran. To his side, an explosion sounded making him flinch away from the fireball that soared skyward. He stayed about twenty metres outside the fence, avoiding a handful of Carriers stuck upon the barbed wire. As he neared the base of the paddock, he veered inward, slipping through the fence once more en route to the pits. The base of the paddock was free of the Infected, all now converged to attack the wall.
The first of the two pits lay ahead, a cavernous black mouth in the grass. At the near corner, a star-picket had been driven deep into the turf. A rope with knots at regular intervals had one end tied to the base of it, the rest lying in neat coils on the grass. Jai flung the rope over the edge and clambered hand over hand down the twelve-foot drop. Ankle deep mud sucked at his shoes, the bottom turned to a glutinous bog by the winter’s rain. The base of the hole was ink black, the high edges blocking the weak light of the moon. Jai pulled out a pen torch from his jacket pocket, flicked it on and grasped it in his mouth to free his hands. The light reflected into his eyes off a stainless-steel toolbox in the middle of the floor, causing him to wince.
He lurched toward it through the mire and threw open the lid. The case had served its purpose in protecting the old cassette tape recorder within from the elements. Two outdoor speakers were bolted to a milk crate behind the toolbox, connected to the cassette recorder by a short length of insulated wiring. Jai ensured the volume was at maximum and depressed the play button. Gut wrenching screams blasted from the speakers, buffeting painfully against his eardrums. He flipped the lid closed once more on the box to protect the tape recorder then made for the rope. Escape was harder than entry. The rope was slippery from the mud on his hands, however the adrenaline powering his muscles was enough to propel Jai upwards. He dug his toes into the dirt wall and scaled the last few feet with scant regard for the skin ripped from his palms by the coarse weave of rope.
He could now make out darkened outlines moving his way against the fire lit backdrop of the slope. Pushing them out his mind, Jai ran for the next hole and repeated the drill; down the rope, volume to max and tape on. With the second set of speakers working, his job was done. All he had to do was go back the way he’d come. Jai grabbed hold of the rope, gritted his teeth and began to climb once more.
On the third handhold, the rope slipped. Jai’s heart rate bolted. He shot his other hand forward for the next grip but it was too late. The knot gave way around the star-picket, unravelling under his weight. Arms windmilling to right himself, he fell backwards into the mud landing with his rifle behind his back. Winded badly, he gaped for air like a fish on dry land. The rope lay on his chest in a treasonous pile. He cast it to the side and got to his knees. Mud clung in a thick layer over most of his body making him feel like he was carrying double his body weight.
The speakers screamed beside him, echoing the panic inside that threatened to unhinge his knees. He had to get out! Ice-cold mud suddenly splattered against his face. Something had fallen into the hole near him. Jai fumbled the torch out of his pocket, directing its small beam of light over the floor of the pit. Two metres away, a Carrier dragged itself to standing, eyes reflecting white against the beam of light as they centred on him. Jai grasped the sling of his rifle, bringing it roughly over his head. He swore violently. The weapon was useless, damaged past repair by his fall. The barrel was filled with mud and bent. In anger, he flung the rifle at the Carrier; the stock smashing teeth free as it connected. Jai backed away. Something tugged at his waist, stopping him from going any further back. He glanced down and felt his first glimmer of hope. The end of the Mark’s sword had dug into the wall behind him, pulling at the scabbards attachment.
Jai ripped the blade free and attacked, burying the edge of the sword deep into the ghoul’s neck. He felt the metal grate against vertebrae as he wrenched it free. The Carrier’s head now hung unnaturally to the side, the neck wound opening in a sick smile. Jai chopped into the same wound twice more, finally severing the head to plop into the mud at his feet.
Three more splashes. The speakers were working. Jai’s heart dropped as he recognised failure. He’d succeeded in his task and his reward would be nothing less than drowning in a writhing mass of the undead. Jai waited for the three creatures to come to him, torch in one hand, sword the other. He panted with fear, his legs and arms felt leaden.
Gunshots. One, two, three muzzle flashes from above and the Carriers were down. Jai’s heart leapt as he looked up and saw Penny gesturing frantically at him, her voice drowned out by the speakers beside him. Jai splashed over to the pile of rope on the mud and threw a handful of coils up to the surface.
Penny caught hold of the rope. There wasn’t time for any fancy knot, a glance behind informing her they were about to be engulfed in a crowd of Infected. She wrapped the rope around the star-picket four times, then held the end, taking on the job as anchor; one foot braced in front against the post, while she knelt. The rope went rigid, quivering with strain as she felt Jai begin his climb. She silently urged him onward, biting down on her terror at the encroaching monsters.
A ring of burning pain suddenly consumed her mind, causing a momentary loosening of her grip on the rope before she clamped her fingers tight again. Her eyes bulged in agony as she felt teeth rip another chunk of tendon and muscle free of her lower leg. A Carrier lay in the turf at her feet, having pulled itself through the deep grass unnoticed. The ghoul lay on its torso as it fed, nothing existing below the rib cage. Penny was powerless to fight back. She didn’t have the strength to hold Jai’s weight with one hand. If she let go, her lone chance to save him would be gone. Penny made her choice and held on tight to the rope, screaming her tortured agony in sync with the speakers below.
With a grunt, Jai pulled himself over the edge and rolled onto the grass to face uphill. Only thirty metres separated them from the advancing crowd of undead, backlit by the fires on the slope above.
Penny’s screams finally registered in his mind. Jai scrambled to his feet and unsheathed the sword. He kicked the creature off her legs, stabbing the hardened steel point deep into the Carrier’s skull.
He squatted, trying to grab Penny under her armpits to stand, but she batted his embrace away.
‘You need to go; you won’t make it if you’re carrying me.’
‘I’m not leaving you here, get up Penny!’ yelled Jai, desperation making his voice crack.
‘I’m bitten. I’m dead anyway,’ she said, her face crumpling in pain.
‘You don’t know that for sure,’ he said uncertainly. Jai began to back away, if she wouldn’t let him help her now, he’d be out of time.
Penny pulled her Glock free of its holster. ‘Get out of here, now!’ she screamed.
Jai’s nerve broke. He sprinted for the fence, running parallel to the advancing front of the Infected. At the fence he skidded to a halt and turned back. In the silver light of the moon above, he saw the first of the Infected approach Penny. She raised the gun, took aim a
nd fired three separate shots, dropping a Carrier with each one. Then she reversed the barrel placing it between her teeth.
A sob ripped out of Jai’s throat as he saw her head jerk backwards and her body slump to the ground. He couldn’t watch any longer. With vision blurred by hot tears, he slipped through the fence and ran for home.
Chapter Forty-Four
Hideous screams cut the air, drowning out the rage of the Infected assaulting the wall. Mark felt an empty click as he pulled the trigger. His last magazine had just run empty. Reversing the weapon, he rammed the stock down into the snarling face of a corpse mounting the wall at his feet. The frontal bone caved in, splattering his feet with gobs of brain. He looked for his next target, and came up empty. The wall was finally free of attackers.
Mark looked down the slope in wonder, seeing only the backs of the Infected as they stumbled towards the pits, attracted like vultures to carrion by the tortured screams of the recording.
A hand clasped his shoulder, spinning him around. Both Harry and Steph were at his side, their faces quietly stunned.
‘They bloody did it!’ said Harry in awe.
Steph’s face cracked into a grin as she hugged her cousin in celebration with one arm, holding the other out to Mark to join in. He allowed himself to be pulled into the embrace for a moment before gently stepping back.
He couldn’t celebrate. Not until he knew. Mark left the pair to watch for Penny and Jai, and climbed down from the wall, heading towards the container Harry had locked Georgie in. Each step felt heavy, requiring a force of will to continue.
Then he found himself standing at the doorway, padlock at his feet. The handle protested against being opened, emitting a high squeal of ungreased metal as he lifted the lever and eased the door open. Georgie stood quietly, facing away from him. Her manacled foot prevented her from leaving her bedside. Mark noted the bandaged stump, his mind reeling at the trauma he’d requested Harry to inflict upon her.
‘It’s over, Georgie,’ he said. ‘The wall’s finally clear, I think we’re going to be ok now.’
Nothing.
‘Are you ok? I’m so sorry about...’ he trailed off to silence, noticing how pale the exposed skin of her other arm was for the first time. She started to slowly turn, shuffling in small steps to face the doorway. She was staring at the ground, then slowly raised her face to his.
Lips curled back to expose teeth, her face transformed to pure rage. She launched forward at him, fingers of her remaining hand clawing out towards his eyes before the restraint at her foot stopped her momentum, causing her to fall to the floor.
Mark stared, hair rising on the back of his neck. His mouth moved wordlessly, unable to match his memories of Georgie to the writhing beast on the ground. She’s a Carrier. Grief welled in his chest; a physical pain like someone twisted a knife sadistically in his heart. The room felt empty of oxygen, he couldn’t breath. And he couldn’t bear looking at her any longer. Mark backed out of the doorway, his gait unsteady, until he bumped up against the outside wall of the house.
Harry found him there ten minutes later.
‘The kid’s back,’ he said, the pause between his next words heavy with intent. ‘But Penny didn’t make it.’ Any joy of their victory had already turned to ash.
Mark barely acknowledged his presence.
‘How’s Georgie? Did it work?’
As Mark slowly shook his head, Harry’s shoulders slumped. He forced himself to stand a little straighter, Mark had carried the weight of command through the night, and it was his turn to ease some of the load.
‘We said we’d do it quick if this happened, give the person dignity. Do you want me to?’ Harry asked, his knuckles showing white against the grip of the rifle in his hand.
Mark turned, his eyes red and hopeless. ‘I can’t do it. I just can’t.’
Harry nodded. Without another word, he stepped through the doorway, lifting the rifle to his shoulder. A single shot echoed off the walls of the container. Outside, Mark sunk to the ground with the wall at his back, his head lowered to his knees as he sobbed.
Chapter Forty-Five
The battery packs powering the speakers finally gave out an hour later. The ensuing silence seemed unnatural after the previous night. Harry emerged from the house to find Steph sitting on the porch, her back against the wall. He could see clearly now, dawn bringing a soft light that displayed everything in countless tones of grey. He eased himself down next to her, groaning softly as his muscles protested the movement, and placed a towel-wrapped item to the side.
They were both exhausted, their clothes were filthy and torn, covered with an abattoir’s assortment of flesh and gore. Harry examined the torn palm of one hand, the medic part of his brain dully curious to the mix of blood borne diseases he had acquired as tissue and body fluids of those he had killed contaminated the wound.
‘We can’t stay here, Harry,’ Steph said.
He nodded his agreement, there was too much death here now. The price for their survival made Harry feel ill. His eyes were dry though. He’d left something of himself behind during the night. He felt hollowed out, like some spark particular to him was squashed.
‘I’ve given the little girl a sedative to make her sleep – poor kid’s going to be fucked up for life. Jai and his sister are passed out on the couches.’ Harry pulled a list from his back pocket, passing it to Steph. ‘That’s the list of stuff Penny came up with for the trip to Jindabyne. I agree ‒ we need to get out of here today, if another swarm like that comes down the highway, they’ll walk straight over the walls.’
Steph got to her feet with a groan. ‘I’ll start getting it together,’ she said, then pointed at the towel wrapped object. A pale finger had slipped outside the covering. ‘Is that Georgie’s...?’
Harry nodded, frowning. Steph put a hand to her mouth, turned and leant against a post, emptying her guts off the edge of the porch. Harry stood and helped pull her hair out of the way. Once her shoulders stopped heaving, he left her to recover. His grisly package in hand once more, he climbed down the side of the veranda and left to find a spade. The mass of infected outside the front wall could rot in the sun for all he cared, but their friends deserved better.
* * *
Within the square battlement, to the left of the house stood an old apple tree. The winter had robbed its greenery, naked silver branches now reaching to the clouds. Steph felt its stark appearance fitting for how she felt internally; stripped bare and raw. Behind the tree they had buried the husband and wife together, supporting the young girl while she said goodbye to her parents. She’d now withdrawn once more, mute to any attempted interaction.
To the other side of the tree, Harry and Mark had dug two shallow graves side by side. Georgie’s amputated arm was with her body, as whole again in death as they could achieve.
Penny’s remains sadly filled little of her trench.
Harry, Mark, Jai and Erin stood with Steph before the graves, each silent with their own thoughts. She felt she should say something, but her mind was blank. Mark knelt beside Georgie and reached out his fingers to gently caress the waxen skin of her cheek one last time, then rose and picked up the spade and began to fill in the two holes. Dirt steadily covered the bodies until their likeness was removed from sight, but not memory.
Mark leant onto his shovel, staring down at the black soil covering his girlfriend. His eyes were dry, as were those of all present. It was if by some unwritten agreement, they had placed grieving on the backburner, setting it aside for a time when the war was won.
‘I fucked up last night. I made the wrong decisions, and it got them killed,’ he said quietly. Harry and Steph both looked up sharply at the statement.
‘That’s bullshit, Mark. The only thing responsible for their deaths is the fucking virus,’ muttered Steph, shaking her head.
‘No, it was the tactics I chose. I lost track of time fighting in the containers. We should have been on top of the wall much earlier. If I’d starte
d by using up the ammunition, killing anything before it came within twenty metres of the wall, the ramp of bodies wouldn’t have been created. Then we could have finished off the last of them from below, safe in the knowledge that the wall wouldn’t be overcome.’
‘Shut up, Mark. Hindsight thinking’s bullshit,’ said Harry. ‘We gave the burden of leadership to you last night, and we didn’t question a single decision. If you want to wear blame – we own it together.’ Harry looked him straight in the eye. ‘This was our first real fight, and the majority of us survived. I reckon that’s a good outcome. Next time, we won’t make the same mistakes. And that’s how I’ll choose to honour them ‒ by fighting on, and killing more of the bastards.’
Mark held his eye for a moment, jaw clenched in anger at Harry’s challenge. Anger for not even being allowed one moment of self-pity. Slowly, he unclenched the fists bunched at his side and exhaled. Harry was right. He’d turn that rage he’d been readying to direct at himself, and vent it with abandon against those carrying the infection. But he’d not lead again; he was done with that. Let someone else choose who got thrown into the mincer. He’d rather take on the risk himself than ask it of another again.
‘We need to get going if we’re going to have any hope of making Jindabyne by nightfall.’ Harry turned to Steph. ‘Did you find the stuff on the list?’
‘Yeah. We’re ready to go. Jai helped me pack your car,’ she replied.
‘Ok, there’s just one more thing I want to do before we go. Mark, you might want to join me for this. One last moment of payback.’
Mark raised an eyebrow in query, then followed in Harry’s wake.
Chapter Forty-Six
Plague War: Outbreak Page 25
