As the gap increases, Dixon has his rifle trained on it. He is prepared to fire in an instant if any Rabids have survived the grenade’s explosions and come through. They don’t, and before the gap reaches the height Dixon was anticipating, Downey floors the accelerator.
The pick-up jumps forward and Dixon has to take evasive action to duck under the shutter’s bottom edge before it takes his head off. As he rises again, he slams his hand down onto the roof of the cab, partly in a rage that Downey nearly took his head off and partly to warn him to be careful.
Smoke fills the air outside and Dixon pulls up his Shemagh across the bottom of his face to breathe through, and it brings some relief. Some of the smoke is the residue of the grenades but, mostly, it is coming down from the fire and explosions that are raging away to the right at the front of the terminal building. Downey steers left out of the hangar, his way forward to the Terminal 5 building is blocked by helicopters in front of them. Dixon briefly thinks to himself that the explosions are going to travel all the way down and past the hangar as each helicopter explodes. He puts that thought out of his head; he needs to be looking out for targets, which at the moment are very sparse. That at least is good news for the personnel who remained in the hangar to make their escape.
Downey picks up some speed but doesn’t go mad. Dixon is looking for a gap to get through to cut the journey time down, as well as looking for targets. He sees one coming up and bangs on the top of the cab before he shouts down the side of the cab that a gap is coming. Downey sees it and takes it, turning right and slowing as he drives through the grounded helicopters.
Thankfully, the pick-up is soon nearing the end of the helicopters. Even Dixon started to feel slightly nervous and claustrophobic driving through the dark eerie hulks of machinery where anything could be lurking in the shadows. He consoles himself with the fact that they haven’t seen any hostiles yet and then curses himself for daring to think that.
As soon as Downey turns right out of the relative darkness that the helicopters cast, Dixon sees possible targets ahead, many of them. They are some way off still, up by the taxiways that lead to the long runway they need to travel up to Terminal 5. The only saving grace is that the way ahead is now wide and will keep getting wider as they go. Meaning they can stay left to avoid getting too near the inferno and explosions lighting the darkness ahead as if it were day and the sun was shining down.
“We have targets ahead,” Dixon shouts to Kim behind him. There is no point in saying ‘possible’ targets because he knows exactly what they are; he can tell now they are only that bit closer.
Downey steers over to the left side and accelerates onto the main taxiway heading for the runway. Dixon only realises now that Downey hasn’t turned on the headlights; he didn’t pick it up before, even when they drove through the darkness of the helicopters. It is a good move from Downey, keeping them as stealthy as possible as they approach the figures ahead. They will see the pick-up soon enough and at any moment now.
Dixon registers the first figure change direction and starts to run at the pick-up, quite a distance away. He doesn’t panic, warns Kim again and prepares himself for battle. Dixon crosses his left arm in front of himself over the cab, taking hold of an anchor point to steady himself, in case Downey takes evasive action. He then rests his rifle with his right hand across his left arm and pulls the rifle home into his shoulder. His legs move back slightly and spread to steady himself even more, pushing his weight into the cab. The pick-up bobs up and down on the road, making Dixon's aim constantly adjust to compensate.
He quickly gets into a rhythm but hitting a moving target from a moving position requires its fair share of luck as well as skill. The odds of him hitting a headshot are slim to none, so Dixon is going for the lower body and legs shot to increase the odds. He will shoot a short burst to that area to take the Rabids down. They won’t be hanging around long enough to worry about kill shots.
The Rabid changes the trajectory of its run to ensure it is on a collision course with the pick-up as Downey steers. They don’t run like humans, Dixon notes as he gets a good look at the Rabid’s form on the wide-open taxiway. It sways from side to side, its legs moving inconsistently, sometimes taking super-fast smaller strides which can then develop into impossibly long strides as its feet slow down and it almost glides across the ground. Occasionally, a long stride is followed by a leap and the Rabid seems to fly through the air. Dixon wonders whether it is running like that to use different muscles. Burning energy in one set of muscles until another is recovered and then switching style to use the fresher muscles? Whatever the reason, it works; the speed the Rabid reaches over a very long distance is frighteningly awesome.
The Rabid’s run has attracted others to attack, as they too have now seen the pick-up driving towards them. The first Rabid closes in and is almost in Dixon’s range. He knows how far these fuckers can jump and doesn’t want it airborne when he takes his shots. He needs its legs in his sights. Dixon prepares to let go his first volley. He aims short of his target to account for the speed of the Rabid and the pick-up. His finger squeezes the rifle’s trigger, which is switched to automatic. The five or six bullets are fired in an instant, his shoulder accommodating the rifle’s juddering recoil.
The lead bullet explodes into the concrete just in front of the oncoming Rabid, missing its target and spitting up dust. Two or three of the following bullets do hit their target and as the bullets rip clean through the Rabid’s legs, they are taken from beneath it. The Rabid falls forward hard, smashing into the concrete of the taxiway. Dixon sees its head bounce off the rock-hard surface as its lead arm fails to stop its fall and snaps in two.
Downey doesn’t have to swerve to miss the forlorn body. He carries on straight as the body is left behind, where it fell.
Dixon doesn’t have time to pat himself on the back for his shot. He is immediately adjusting his aim to the next target. That’s one down but they are about to start coming thick and fast.
Targets are coming straight at the pick-up from several directions. Downey keeps the pick-up going straight on through. He doesn’t try to steer to avoid them, as tempting as it may be to get out of the way of the oncoming wretches. He keeps the pick-up at a constant speed and direction to give Dixon the most stable platform possible to shoot from. He knows that swerving around will give Dixon no chance of hitting his targets, and he will only change course if absolutely necessary.
As the pick-up starts to draw level with the inferno away to its right, Dixon feels the searing heat emanating from it. They are some distance away from the burning helicopters and building but that doesn’t stop the right side of his face drying out and heating up. He ignores the heat and the explosions. His focus is on the Rabids in front of him. He misses his next target and has to fire again, taking the Rabid down at the second time of asking. He readjusts and fires again, this time hitting his target first time.
Creatures are running at them from the expanse on the left. Dixon, for the most part, ignores them, however. Even at the speed they run, they aren’t quick enough to catch the pick-up in time and are left behind. Kim takes pot shots at some of them who change direction and try to follow the pick-up; most give up though.
Dixon has to concentrate on dispatching the Rabids that were already within range of the pick-up and they are mostly in front and just off to the left. He tries to take them out before they get into the path Downey is taking so that he doesn’t have to swerve. His rifle is firing almost constantly as he takes one out and readjusts for the next target. The pick-up does have to steer around some dropped bodies, but Dixon sees it coming and compensates.
Dixon’s second magazine empties and he pulls it swiftly out of the bottom of the rifle. Another fresh mag is in his hand quickly and he clicks it into place, pulling back the action. He aims at the next target and pulls the trigger but only hears a ‘dead man’s click’ as his rifle jams.
“Fucking piece of shit!” Dixon shouts as he releases the m
agazine, drops it, pulls the rifles action back to clear and obstruction and inserts another mag. By the time he aims again, his target is almost upon them. The rabid jumps at the pick-up just as Dixon pulls the trigger. This time, the rifle does burst into life and Dixon lets off a long volley at the beast.
The Rabid is hit multiple times but there is no headshot. The bullets do take some of the momentum out of the Rabid’s jump and it falls short and level with the front left of the pick-up. The Rabid’s head impacts with the headlight of the pick-up and it is thrown into a flat spin. The crushing blow spins the body down the side of the cab before the momentum flies it over the tail of the pick-up and over Kim’s head. Hitting the ground behind the pick-up, the body slides to a stop.
“What the fuck!” Dixon hears Kim shout from behind him.
Dixon has his own problems, however. He is playing catch-up following his rifle jamming. Upping his rate of fire, he has to rely almost entirely on instinct as he guns down the Rabids that threaten them.
Passing the zenith of the heat from the inferno, Dixon barely notices his face start to cool as the pick-up battles on. His eyes start to widen as the light from the fire starts to dim as they approach the runway that will take them all the way to Terminal 5. At least the blazing light is behind them now and doesn’t blind his field of vision. His eyes quickly adjust to their new surroundings and they pick out targets almost as easily. They are lit up as they run towards the pick-up, their horrific tortured features aggravated by the flickering fires’ light.
Finally, the pick-up crosses the threshold and drives onto the wide runway. Downey arcs around in a large diameter as he joins the runway to place the pick-up in the middle of it. From there, he gradually picks up speed, the bumpy concrete of the taxiway having been replaced by the smooth tarmac of the runway.
“Keep your eyes peeled,” Dixon shouts to Kim as they speed along the ominously quiet runway. Maybe the Rabids haven’t wandered onto the runway yet? Perhaps they are attracted by the light and noise of the fire and stayed in that vicinity? Maybe and perhaps don’t work for Dixon, though, and his eyes re-focus.
The further the pick-up travels up the runway, the dimmer the surroundings get as the fires behind have less and less effect. Downey slows down, taking more care as his view diminishes; the last thing he wants to do is turn on the pick-up’s headlights.
Lights ahead start to come into sharper view from the silhouettes of the massive Terminal 5 buildings looming in the near distance. Nothing looks out of the ordinary from here, but no one is taking anything for granted and their nerves start to tingle as they get closer to the buildings.
Downey keeps on while the going is good and decides to stay on the runway for as long as possible. He ignores the exits to the taxiways that lead to the smaller building of the Terminal 5 complex. Their objective is the farthest and by far, biggest building. The main advantage with his tactics is that the darkness closes in around them, camouflaging the pick-up and keeping it out of sight.
Although Dixon understands what Downey is doing, he taps the top of the cab when he sees that it is time to turn. The pick-up veers right. There is a small bump as it leaves the runway and gets onto the taxiway leading to the main terminal building just ahead.
“I don’t like it. It’s too quiet,” Kim says from behind Dixon.
“I know, mate, something isn’t right.”
Downey must be feeling it too, as he has slowed considerably and is almost coasting. Is it their new surroundings bringing on their feelings of uneasiness? They certainly aren’t helping; the dimly lit airplanes that sprout up from the ground, parked adjacent to the buildings they are approaching, are creepy. The manmade light above casts shadows all around, the shadow of a wing here and a fuselage there making random patterns on the ground. The shadows occasionally weaken as a flash of light from an explosion bathes them for an instant, even from this distance. Each flash is followed by the sound of a boom or a crack that pierces the deathly silence.
Both Dixon and Kim are on tenterhooks as the pick-up moves into the Terminal 5 complex, closer to the grounded planes. Blind spots are everywhere; anything could be lurking in the shadows or behind a landing gear. Their rifle’s muzzles shift continually from one blind spot to another but it’s just a gesture, as there are simply too many to cover.
A loud screech sounds, sending electric chills down their spines. Their muzzles dart about quicker, looking for a target, but neither man is sure which direction the screech came from. Another spine-chilling screech lets out.
“Where is it coming from?” Kim asks desperately.
“Fuck knows,” Dixon answers, unsure if the sounds even came from the same source.
“It’s freaking me out,” Kim says.
“Stay calm, mate, we got this,” Dixon lamely tries to reassure.
The pick-up has made it to the start of the main terminal building and has slowed to almost a crawl. They need to be looking for an entry point into the building but neither Dixon nor Kim wants to give up their covering positions to look for one.
“What you reckon, Boss?” Kim asks.
“We need to get into that building A-sap.”
“Have you seen a way in?”
“I haven’t had a chance to look, but we are swinging in the wind out here,” Dixon says from behind his rifle.
“You’re not wrong there.”
Dixon taps the top of the cab and leans back toward Downey’s window. “Downey?”
“Yes, Boss,” he replies as the pick-up comes to a stop.
“Any entry points?”
“There are doors, but they all look secured.”
“Keep going and looking,” Dixon orders.
Downey gently starts moving forward; he scans the building, a plane length away on their left, for any entry point.
“There,” Collins says.
Downey sees it too, a single black door that looks like it has a crack of light down its length on one side.
“You’re up mate, go and check it, I’ll cover you,” Downey orders as he stops the pick-up again and opens his door to get out and cover Collins.
Apprehension and fear course through Collins’ body. He doesn’t question the order though and he doesn’t hesitate. As soon as the vehicle comes to a stop, he opens his door and gets out. Ducked down behind his rifle that is raised and pointed forward, he moves swiftly around the front of the pick-up and on towards the door that is shadowed by the looming airplane above. He is quickly at the tail of the plane and starts to work his way down it, using it for cover while checking any blind spots.
“CONTACT RIGHT!” Kim shouts as his rifle erupts.
Adrenaline fizzes through Dixon as he swivels around from his perch on top of the cab. His rifle swings around with him to look for a target and he isn’t disappointed. “Where the fuck have they all come from!” Dixon hears himself shout as his rifle opens up into the mass of Rabids that are streaming like water in and around the landing gear, in their direction, coming from an airplane on the opposite side from the main building.
They are in serious trouble—that is instantly obvious to Dixon as he fires. Their bullets are having little or no effect on the Rabid’s charge and they are going to be across the expanse separating them in moments. Downey getting back into the cab and speeding off will be useless and it would leave Collins behind. Where would they speed off to? The Rabids would overwhelm them before they got very far anyway. There is only one possible salvation. To fall back to the building, hope Collins has that door open and hope they can reach it in time.
“Fall back to the building, covering grenades!” Dixon shouts to his two comrades as he pulls the pins on two grenades and throws them.
Neither Dixon nor Kim wait to see what effect the exploding grenades are going to have. They are both jumping down from the tail of the pick-up before they explode. Downey rolls two grenades under the pick-up as the two men hit the ground and then all three make a break for the building.
As
soon as they are up and running, Dixon's grenades detonate and a moment later, Downey’s follow. The pick-up leaps into the air from the force of the blast, its petrol tank erupting with it. All three men don’t break their stride or attempt to look around when the blasts happens; they have only one objective, to get to the open door Collins is holding, down on one knee with his rifle pointed, ready to fire.
Collins sees the first two grenades explode and the blast takes out a few Rabids. More replace the fallen in their ranks, though, as they stream forward, the creatures coming at a tremendous rate. The blast from the pick-up is impressive but does nothing the hinder the onslaught. The Rabids seem to anticipate the trap and take a wide berth around the blast. Collins feels helpless as he sees the swarm of Rabids gaining on his mates. They are going to be on top of them before they make it inside.
Downey is lagging behind slightly, the screeches of the horde at his back only confirm his feeling. He knows how close the Rabids are; they are almost upon him and the door is still too far off. He rips the last two grenades from his body armour, pulls the pins and drops them down by his feet. He understands that he will probably still be in the blast radius when they go, but if he is, at least it may give the other two a better chance. The grenades away, he tries to increase his speed.
Two blasts follow one another as the two grenades explode. A searing hot piece of shrapnel hits Downey’s left shoulder at the same time as the shock wave.
Downey stumbles, but ignoring the pain, he tries to gather his feet, in desperation to survive and keep going. The stumble is all the Rabid that hits his back needed. The beast’s arms gather him in as Downey goes down and its teeth have bitten through the back of his neck before he hits the ground.
“Nooo,” Collins shouts as Downey goes down. The horror and his sacrifice impact deep within Collins and his rage builds. Without thinking, he opens fire, his rifle spitting out bullets into the melee heading his way indiscriminately. The only exceptions to his killing spree are Dixon and Kim, to whom Downey’s sacrificial grenades may have given a chance.
Capital Falling (Book 3): Resurgence Page 12
