by Stevens, GJ
One of the soldiers called out with a backwards glance and I turned, catching sight of the great line of dark figures rushing along the banks towards us.
59
The three soldiers seemed to speed, despite the weight they carried with the two packs and their colleague and knowing they would be feeling the same whole-body pain I did, the feeling as if I could drop at any moment and not get up again.
Somehow I managed to keep going, following with Alex at my side as Jess and Cassie and Shadow overtook the soldiers. Panting for breath, I watched as Cassie slowed and without saying a word, she pointed to the right, veering off as the slipway met a road with buildings either side.
With a command from Thompson, the soldiers soon turned the corner to follow and were out of view. I grabbed at Alex’s sodden shoulder as she put her palm to my back. We pushed each other on, following the wet trail.
At the junction, the last of the soldiers disappeared through an open door beside a tall, plate-glass window of a two-storey building. To the sound of orders issued and dragging each other through the pain, we followed.
Being the last through, I regretted the slam of the door when I couldn’t keep a grip on the handle, my fingers so numb. Still, I fumbled with the lock in hope it might somehow slow the advance of what followed.
Inside, Thompson and one of the other soldiers dumped their packs and raising their rifles, surged forward in unison and along with Jess and Cassie, scanned the detail of the room as the third soldier settled his shaking colleague on the floor.
We were in a small commercial building. The first wide room was a reception area, separated from a large open plan office by glass partitions with a glass door in the middle. A set of stairs rose up the wall.
Alex and I watched on, shaking so violently I felt as if I would rattle apart.
Leaving the soldiers to search the building, one rushing up the wooden steps, the Major heading through to the main room, Jess sought out Alex and wrapped her arms around her. Cassie continued to look around.
Shadow stayed downstairs, moving around with his nose to the carpet. He seemed to have shaken off most the water, but the scar down his side appeared so much redder than I’d seen it before.
“Strip down,” the soldier said, as he turned and watched me shaking. “We’ve got to get warm.” The guy who he’d carried stood and fought with the zip of his jacket.
“I’m fine,” he said as the other guy said something I couldn’t quite hear, then opened a pack at his feet and started pulling out the contents.
A muted call soon came from upstairs, repeated by another on our floor. They each returned, all of the soldiers huddling together and stamping their feet at the bottom of the steps with their weapons resting at their sides. They didn’t invite us to the discussion, but after a moment one of them grabbed one of the two packs and rushed up the stairs. The remaining three began stripping off their kit and wrung out the water.
“Please tell me there’s a room full of dry clothes upstairs?” I said, motioning above my head through the shakes as I stamped my feet for warmth.
Thompson shook his head, his lips remaining flat. “Offices. Not much else. Get your clothes off and wring them out at the very least.”
I started pulling of my jacket, then looked to the huddled women and back through the glass partition as I stripped.
The room filled with ten desks, computer monitors sitting on each beside office clutter and mugs likely filled with long cold liquids. Towards the far end of the room were three closed doors with small signs I couldn’t read across the distance.
“Is that a toilet?” I asked, looking through the glass partition.
Thompson nodded. “Ladies. Why don’t you get some privacy in there?”
Alex looked up from pulling off her socks and before long the three of them moved toward the door in the glass partition.
Thompson stepped forward, about to follow, but Cassie stopped, looking down to Thompson’s holstered pistol.
“We can look after ourselves,” she said, reaching out for the weapon.
I stopped wringing out my socks, watching along with the others as Thompson’s brow rose.
“She can handle it and much more,” I said. “You can’t imagine what we’ve been through these last few days.”
Thompson hesitated before looking to one of the two soldiers half dressed in the corner, the one who hadn’t been breathing only moments earlier. With his reluctance obvious in his scowl, he pulled the pistol from his holster he’d set aside and handed it to Thompson, barrel first.
Thompson checked the chamber, then passed it to Cassie with a slow nod, watching as she led the women towards the toilets.
After glancing to the window at our backs and seeing nothing but the blinds pulled across, I kicked off my trainers, slinging my jacket off and letting the water run down to the carpet.
Thompson was the older of the four men; I guessed he was somewhere around late thirties. As he pulled off his helmet, I saw his salt and pepper hair, his skin brown and weathered as if he’d been outside most of his life.
The soldier who handed over the pistol looked in his late twenties. Like the other three, he was well-built, muscled with a thick tree-trunk of a neck and his short mousey blond hair was so much longer at the top, the side of his head shaven.
I paused wringing out my T-shirt when Cassie pushed the toilet door open, only continuing when it closed at their backs and they didn’t come out running to the sound of gunshots. Turning back, I saw the soldiers pulling on dry clothes from the pack.
“Have you got any spare?” I asked, looking on with such a longing. Each shook their heads and I turned away, barely flinching when the first thud came at the front door. Instead, dressing in the cold clothes I’d just finished wringing out, I looked to the soldiers to gauge their reaction.
60
JESSICA
As Cassie and Alex stripped down, the water from their clothes running into the sinks, Alex shook so hard she seemed to be barely able to control herself.
I looked at myself in the mirror. There was so much to think about. Too much to deal with.
They’d all seen what I’d done to save them from the horde. The soldiers had been watching, filming so they could know the next step of their mission. Everyone had watched me switch from being Jessica Carmichael, the woman from the TV, to a hellish creature who could rip limbs from flesh, but had they noticed how I was back to me again? Would they ever see me as just Jess again? Would she?
“Dry off,” Alex said, her voice trembling as she spoke.
I looked up to see both of them barely dressed, but neither of them seemed as if they feared for their lives. Alex reached out with a stack of paper towels shaking in her hand.
Was their trust that I could control myself around them valid?
How could they when I didn’t know myself?
61
LOGAN
Beyond the white blinds, black shapes moved with the muffled thud of flesh against the glass.
Despite the efforts we’d gone to to save their lives, each of the soldiers eyed me with caution, looking back with a weariness each time our gazes met. Although soon dressed, I couldn’t help but shake.
Still with no sign of the women returning, I walked to the window, peering out at the edge of the blind whilst being careful not to touch or move the hanging material.
I could almost smell the stench and the charred flesh of those stood the other side, but despite all I’d seen, I had to look away for fear of losing the contents of my stomach from this morning.
I looked instead back into the room. The soldiers had dressed in dry kit and were searching through the remains of the rucksack.
The guy closest to me and the one who kept his pistol had deep red lesions running down his face and like the creatures outside, I guessed he must have been at the edge of the explosion. He nodded, and I wondered if the gesture was all the thanks I would be getting.
Each of them had t
he same weathered look; skin long exposed to the outdoors and harsh conditions of foreign climates throughout their careers.
“What now?” I asked, as I searched around the reception, spotting a large water bottle in the corner. Taking a cup from a stack in the holder, I watched the water slowly dribble in and then downed the contents in one go, returning it under the plastic tap.
“Our mission hasn’t changed. We’re taking Ms Carmichael to her destination.” I turned to Thompson’s voice and then the other two, not able to see any dissent at the instruction.
“Anyone else?” I asked, gesturing to the bottle as the bubbles gurgled through the water to collect at the top.
The soldier nearest to me nodded in reply and I took another cup as I spoke.
“We need to find a vehicle.”
“We have this in hand,” Thompson said. “Kit check you two.”
I handed the nearest soldier the full cup. He nodded, and I turned to get another.
“The water screwed the radios,” he said in a slow, northern accent I couldn’t place. “Otherwise we’re okay. The other bag, too.”
“We’re coming with you,” I said.
The two subordinates looked to Thompson stone-faced as if they hadn’t heard my words. I handed off the full cup to the other soldier, his hair shaven all over. He took the drink with a nod.
As I turned away, looking through the glass I saw the others emerging from the bathroom, each with damp hair and dirty, crumpled clothes. Alex still shivered.
“Has the other woman really had the cure?” Thompson asked, watching as the women approached, turning to me as I nodded.
“Cassie was at death’s door.” I looked away, swallowing hard in hope the rising feeling would dissolve before it showed.
Thompson stayed quiet for a long moment, watching as the women emerged. “I won’t stop you following us, but other than that, no promises,” he said, and then raised his brow to each of his men.
“Gibson. Like the guitar,” he said, pointing to the guy with the lesions down his face. “Sherlock,” he said, pointing to the northerner and the one who we’d pulled from the water not breathing. “Like the detective.”
“Sir,” Sherlock said, with his brow lowered and taking a step towards Thompson. “They’re luggage and will get in the way, or worse.”
“Ha,” I scoffed. “Are you kidding me? We saved your lives.”
Sherlock turned my way, his expression pointed and brow low. He looked as if he was about to take a step my way when Thompson raised his hand and spoke.
“Like I said, I’m not going to stop them following.”
Sherlock looked away, moving to pull out a first aid kit from the rucksack at his feet before leaning to inspect Gibson’s face.
“Upstairs is Carr,” Thompson said.
“I’m Logan. Cassie is the one in the lead and Alex is at the back holding the rucksack.” I turned down to Shadow at my side. “And this is Shadow.”
“Nice dog,” Gibson said in a soft cockney voice, only moving his gaze down to the dog as Sherlock probed his face with his fingertips.
“Where exactly are we heading then?” I asked, stroking Shadow’s damp back.
Each of the soldiers glanced at each other, but no one answered before Cassie pulled open the glass partition door.
“Have you seen the children?” she said, stepping up to Thompson.
Gibson and Sherlock each raised an eyebrow.
“We haven’t seen anything, or anyone,” Thompson replied. “We only know our mission, ma'am.” He turned away, delving through the pack at his feet.
“Where are you taking Jess?” Cassie asked, but Thompson continued to rifle without answering.
“The Isle of Wight,” Jess said, then stepped to Cassie’s side whilst talking to Thompson’s back. “How long have we got?”
“Until what?” Cassie added, turning to face her.
“The letter…” Jess started to say, then stopped herself and turned my way.
“The letter didn’t say anything about the children. Well, not really,” I said, shaking my head.
“You don’t know her,” Jess said, keeping her gaze on me as she spoke with her brow furrowing. “It’s not what she said. It’s more what she didn’t say.”
Thompson turned and held a fist full of energy bars, offering them out to each of the soldiers.
“I don’t understand,” Cassie said, waving away Thompson’s offer of food as her voice rose.
I took an energy bar, as did Alex. Jess shook her head as he held out the food and looked to me with a raised brow.
“Will everyone stop looking at each other and answer some bloody questions,” Cassie said, stepping between Jess. “Is Ellie okay? Do we know where they are?”
“She’s fine as far as we can tell,” I said and Jess cut in.
“For now. I think she’s threatening if I don’t go to her then they won’t stay that way.”
I watched as Cassie’s eyes widened in alarm, but before she could press for more information, we turned up to the stairs and the hurried call from above, as a great brightness shined through the blinds just before the window imploded.
62
Tasting dust and with a punishing weight on my chest as I lay with my back to the floor, I couldn’t see through the curtain of debris raining all around. Everything seemed still, until I felt a stirring at my side and I looked up from the floor to see a cascade of shadows moving everywhere. The sight forced back the memory of the charred, burnt creatures on the other side of the window which had just exploded.
To my relief, the weight fell to my side. Batting my eyelids in an attempt to clear the dust, I saw Alex in the sudden bright light staring at me as if she’d just woken.
Coughing up the thick air I took with each breath, I watched movement which seemed to be all around. Feet on the carpet, shadows on the walls and against the strewn glass and debris across the floor.
Then a call. Thompson’s booming voice with his outline silhouetted by a pair of headlights where the glass wall had once been, bringing with it the memory of Carr’s call from above and the roar of an engine as the wall burst in.
Turning around and looking up, I followed the sound of a deep voice and saw Carr pointing.
“Get in the fucking vehicle.”
Only when I twisted back around did my brain make the connection that a minivan had smashed through the plate glass window and part of the wall, stopping with its front half in the building and only a few footsteps away from where I’d been standing.
Reaching out, I grabbed at Alex’s shirt, twisting her around to see the minivan through the dust catching in the headlights as it rained down.
Glancing up past the battered front end of the minivan, the grill lay to the floor covered in dust and crushed brick. Peering around a long crack in the windscreen, I rubbed my eyes at the sight of a soldier in the driver’s seat, furiously blinking, his hand raised, beckoning us from our daze.
Feeling a strong pull under my armpits, I stood, barely getting to my feet before whoever had picked me up launched me forward.
Staggering as I slowed, I stopped at the side door of the van in a daze, then froze to the spot when I looked along the side of the van to a dark inhuman figure at the gap where the last of the jagged wall remained.
A gunshot exploded at my back, then another, sending the dark figure backward and to the ground. To my left, Cassie stood with a smoking pistol pointed to where the figure had been. Sliding the battered side door open, I stumbled from air thick with dust into a haze of white powder, only just able to find the middle row of seats in the minivan as Alex landed beside me.
To the sound of gunshots from the soldiers shocking the air around us as more creatures took the place of those who fell, I watched the driver tear the white cloth of what remained of the airbag from the wheel.
Shadow jumped from the mess to squeeze in the space between the seats at my feet, then Jess bounded beside me. Round after round continued
to slam against flesh as Cassie dragged herself to the rear row, followed by Gibson and Sherlock with the fire rate slowing.
Feeling relief as the gunfire stopped, I watched Carr slide in the front passenger door, pressing up beside the driver as Jess pulled the metal side door closed.
Thompson bundled in the front, throwing the heavy packs over the seats just as his ass hit the upholstery.
“Seat belts,” I shouted, my mind flashing back to our recent success with vehicles.
I pulled on my belt as the remaining crowd slapped and clawed at the rear windows, moving to the sides as bodies filled the gap between us and the wall. With the engine revving high, we shot backwards, metal screeching against the brick as the wheels bounced over the figures knocked to the ground.
Out from the building, the sun poured in and we swung in a turn. Blood and mushy flesh sprayed out as a head burst, crushed between the van and the building in the right-angled turn just as clutter rushed from right to left across the dashboard, sending dog-eared catalogues, Styrofoam cups and a long-handled screwdriver from one side to the other. Braking hard, the van jolted, sending the screwdriver from the dashboard, caught by Carr and he’d thrown it back as all eyes darted across the view to look for the next threat.
“Where the fuck did you get this shit tip from?” Carr shouted, his booming voice turning to laughter. The driver gave a weak laugh as Carr turned the heating up to maximum.
Building our speed and with the air blowing hard and warm from the vents, we were soon going too fast for any remaining creatures to catch up.
I breathed a sigh of relief that none of the other kind survived the helicopter crash, despite the sounds we’d already heard.
