by James Harden
He actually laughed at that. "No. I'm not here to kill you. I'm here for information. Knowledge. Like I said to you earlier, knowledge is power."
"So what do you want to know? Wait, how much do you already know?"
"Only the bare minimum. Only what we need to know to do our job. Initially, we wanted to get close to you so we could learn as much as possible about what was going on in Australia. We wanted to know as much about the virus as possible. But now things have changed."
"Changed? How?"
"The Special Forces team got the green light for the rescue mission a few hours ago."
"What do you mean? Are you saying they've already rescued my friends? Oh wait, I get it now. They rescued Maria and they killed Jack and Kenji. And you're here to break the news to me."
"No. That's not it."
"No?"
"Rebecca, the military failed. The rescue mission failed."
He sat down on the bed next to me and handed me the computer. "This is a recording of the mission footage."
"How the hell did you get this?"
"It's our job to be able to get this kind of stuff. We weren't able to get all of it unfortunately."
"So like, a camera crew went in with them?"
"No. The mission footage is recorded via cameras built into the soldier’s helmets."
Daniel pressed play. The video started. The images were grainy as hell.
A small group of soldiers, maybe five or six were sitting in the back of a helicopter. I recognized one of them as being the leader who promised the world the mission would be a success.
The soldiers looked nervous. Scared and unsure of themselves.
The doors of the helicopter’s cabin were wide open. Outside, I couldn’t see anything except for swirling red dust.
A shadow moved across the screen. All of the soldiers, and I mean all of them swore.
Someone screamed.
There was an explosion.
The helicopter began to spiral out of control.
The footage flicked off and then back on.
The next image was from a camera that was lying on the ground on its side. I turned my head so I could see properly. The helicopter had crashed into the road. It’d been reduced to a twisted, smoking wreck. The rotor blades had been bent and smashed at all different angles.
The soldiers, what's left of them, were crouched next to the wreckage. I could only count four of them. No pilot. No co-pilot. No team leader.
They were talking in hushed, frantic whispers.
"What the hell was that, man?" one of the soldiers asked.
"I don't know. But we gotta call this in right away. We need a goddamn extraction. Being on the streets was not part of the deal!"
You could hear it in their voices, and the see it in their eyes. They did not want to be on the streets. They wanted to be in the sky, in the helicopter. They wanted to stick to the rooftops. The high ground.
One of the soldiers was Australian. You could tell by his accent.
"Jesus Christ," he said. "Pitt Street is a bloody mess."
I couldn’t tell if he was just using the word bloody as a swear word or if it was actually bloody. The image was too grainy. The red dust was too thick.
Someone said, "Radio's busted. We gotta walk out."
"No way, man. No way are we walking anywhere in this. You saw the surveillance images; this place is crawling with infected!"
And as soon as they said it out loud you could hear the howling scream somewhere off in the distance.
The footage flicked off and then back on.
Now the soldiers were running.
They were running at full sprint.
They were running for their lives.
I could only count three soldiers. Including the camera man.
The infected were howling. Louder and closer.
The camera man tripped over and skidded along the road.
The two soldiers in front of him stopped. One of them took cover behind a motor bike and started unleashing with his rifle. Full automatic. The flash from the gun’s barrel lit up the screen.
The other soldier came back for the cameraman, picked him up, got him to his feet.
They stopped and took cover behind a car. The camera man was reloading his rifle. I guess he must've already fired off a full clip.
He was trying to reload but his hands were shaking so bad, he was struggling, he was taking forever.
He finally loaded a magazine.
He turned around, took aim.
And what I saw was just too damn messed up. A shiver ran down my spine. I started shaking as if I was cold, as if I was suffering from hypothermia. My teeth started chattering.
The soldiers were firing at will. They were shooting at a wall of infected. A sea of infected. They were so close. It was an overwhelming number, a countless number of walking corpses.
They couldn't be any more than ten meters away.
One of the soldiers yelled, "Reloading!"
The infected were now five meters away.
The guy next to the cameraman yelled, "I'm out!"
He dropped his rifle and took out a pump action shotgun and started blazing away.
The infected were three meters away.
"We gotta go! Come on!"
The cameraman was still firing. Someone, I think it was the Australian guy, grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him along. The cameraman turned around again. But then they all froze.
They were trapped. The road was blocked at both ends by an insurmountable number of infected.
The Australian guy swore again. The two soldiers on camera physically slumped.
One of them took out their sidearm. Put it to his head. The cameraman tried to stop him but it was too late.
The red dust and the wind seemed to intensify at that point. As did the screaming howl of the infected.
The cameraman started praying. "As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil." And as he said the word shadow, an actual shadow, one like before in the helicopter seemed to cover them. It turned the screen a darker color.
"I will fear no evil. I will fear no evil. I will fear no evil."
And then something roared. Something big.
The roar was louder than the screaming howl of the infected. So loud, the cameraman ducked, and the last remaining soldier on screen put his hands up to cover his ears.
Then the footage ended.
My teeth were still chattering. I was silent, holding my breath without even realizing. "What the hell happened? What was that?"
"We don't know."
"Does anyone know about this?"
"No. This is top secret. If anyone knew we had this, we'd be killed on the spot and buried out in the desert. No questions asked."
"What are they gonna do now?"
"From what we can gather they've put a second rescue mission on hold. They're playing the waiting game basically."
I couldn't blame them. Not after seeing that.
"So what happened? What happened to their helicopter?"
"Looks like they came under fire. There's also a chance the chopper suffered an engine failure as a result of the dust storm. But we're not sure."
"Under fire? From who?"
"Worst case scenario; terrorist splinter cells have gotten through the blockade."
"Terrorists? What would they want?"
"The virus most probably, and Maria. Same thing we want, I guess."
"Do you really think a terrorist cell could get all the way through the blockade into Sydney?"
Daniel shook his head. "It's highly unlikely. They would need aircraft, or boats with stealth capabilities. Occam’s Razor."
"What?"
"The most obvious reason is usually the correct one. It was probably an engine failure. That dust storm is huge. We've recorded wind gusts of well over two hundred miles an hour."
"Why is it so red?" I asked.
"We're not sure. Initially we thought
it was due to nuclear fallout. But that's not the case."
"So what is it?"
"We don't know. It could be a natural dust storm. They have happened from time to time. But nothing on this scale. And not for this length of time. The entire eastern seaboard has been covered in red dust for over a week now."
"So, what now?" I repeated, desperately wanting to know that they weren’t just going to leave my friends for dead. "The military are going to try again, right?"
"We don't know how long they're going to wait. It could be days it could be weeks."
"That’s too long."
"Yeah, I agree. Do you have any idea where your friends could be? Do you know where they would go, where they would hide if things got real bad?"
"I can’t be certain. But when we were trying to flee the city, when we were being chased by the military and the infected our plan was to try and head west. We wanted to get out of the city, get as far away from the population centers as possible. We were going to travel west through the harbor and the river system. Our back up plan was to head further into the city. And get to another building. Get as high off the ground level as possible. Kenji told us that high ground is easier to defend."
"I see. That’s probably why the transmission from Kenji came from the middle of the city," Daniel said, almost as if he was thinking out loud. "Locating their exact position will be hard work. We’re not sure how long it will take."
Or even if they’re still alive, I thought to myself.
"But we have to try," he continued. "We have no other options."
"Wait a minute. You're going in there? After what you just saw?"
"Yes."
He sounded so confident, so sure of himself. But it was different to the over-confidence of the rescue team leader. It was a deeper, quiet confidence, like he knew there was no tomorrow. He knew they couldn’t afford to wait.
"And," he continued. "We need you to come with us."
My eyeballs nearly popped out of my skull. "Excuse me? You what? You want me to come with you? You want me to go back there?"
"Yes."
"With you and what army? Who do you even work for?"
"I can’t tell you that."
"Is it a secret branch of the government? Or some multi-national pharmaceutical company?"
"Look, all I can tell you is that we need you. And we need to save Maria."
"You don’t need me. You probably know the city better than I do."
"But you know where they would hide. You know where they would go. You know how they think. But more importantly when we do make contact with them and trust me we will find them and make contact, we need you there with us. We need you to show them they can trust us, to let them know we’re the good guys."
It was clear now. It all made sense. Daniel and his team needed me there to show my friends that they could be trusted. I was their ace in the hole. The military hadn’t even thought of using me like that.
"We’re flying into New Zealand," he explained. "From there we’ll fly into Australia. Once the dust storm clears we’ll be taking a chopper into Sydney. Our employer has a lot of resources. A lot of capital. If we can secure the target, if we can rescue Maria and deliver her safely, not only will we be saving the human race from extinction, but we’ll be rich. Don't get me wrong I'm not just doing this for the money, but I’m also not trying to hide the fact that money is a big motivator. This could set us up for life. All of us."
I suddenly had this image of chilling out on a beach in Hawaii with my friends. It was nice.
It’s funny how only a few days ago, the only thing in the world I wanted was to get back into Sydney and be with my friends. But now, after grieving for them, and trying my hardest to move on and seeing that God forsaken footage. I'm not entirely sure I wanted to go back.
I was too damn scared.
I made eye contact with Daniel. "How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't. But I'm your only ticket into Australia."
"And you're going in either way? With or without me?"
"Yes. But it would be a huge help if you were there. We can guarantee your safety."
"How? How the hell are you gonna keep me safe? You saw what happened to the Special Forces team."
"We’re the best at what we do."
"What about the infected?"
"We’ll be wearing the latest generation NBC’s."
"NBC’s?"
"Nuclear Biological Chemical suits. You'll be perfectly safe from infection. These suits are designed for operation in the harshest conditions. Plus the latest models run on a type of kinetic energy power system. It increases strength tenfold. You could take on a grizzly bear in one of these bad boys if you had to. Believe me. You’ll be safe."
"Why didn't the rescue team have these suits?"
"Too expensive. Like I said before, our employer has a lot of capital."
I collapsed back in the bed. I wanted to hide under the covers and suffocate myself with the pillows. What good would I be in that kind of environment? Would I just get in the way? I’d be useless wouldn't I?
No. Maybe not. Maybe they did need me. Maybe I really was their ace in the hole. If and when they found my friends, they needed me there. They needed me so my friends didn’t run away.
"OK," I whispered. "I'm in."
"Good," he said as he turned the computer off. "We're leaving in one hour."
Chapter 4
Everything happened so fast. Daniel wasn’t kidding when he said we were leaving in an hour. I packed a small back pack of essentials; my toothbrush, a change of clothes.
I realized at that moment just how little I actually owned. I had next to no possessions. I reached over to the bedside table and opened the top drawer. Hidden underneath the hotel’s copy of the bible was the letter that Kenji had given to me back in Sydney when we trying to secure the casino building in Darling Harbor. Back when we thought we had a chance of hiding out there for a few days.
I still hadn’t read the letter. I don’t know why. Maybe it was because I was scared. Maybe it was because I was afraid it would be too painful, that it would make everything more real, that it would make it harder to let him go if I needed to.
But I guess it was the only thing that I really owned, my only possession. And now that I thought about it, it was the only actual bit of evidence that Kenji ever existed, the only proof that we knew each other.
I couldn’t leave it here. Where would I even keep it? The penthouse safe? Under the pillow? This wasn’t my home. I guess I didn’t really have home. So I decided to take it with me. Maybe sometime soon I'll work up the courage to read it.
I didn’t know where to put it but I remember Kenji said he carried it in his top pocket so it would be with him all the time, wherever he went, right next to his heart. I didn’t have a top pocket so I shoved it down my bra just as Daniel walked into the room.
"You ready?" he asked.
I looked inside my bag one more time. Toothbrush, undies and socks. Check, check and check. "Yeah, I think so."
"No, I don't mean your bag. I mean you. Are you ready?"
In an instant, the apocalyptic scene of Sydney Harbor flashed through my head: the twisted grey iron of the bridge and its support structures, the water turned red with blood and choked with bodies. "I know what's at stake," I said. "I know what I'm doing."
And this is what I've wanted since I made it back, I thought to myself. Ever since I heard Kenji’s call for help. This is what I’ve wanted. This is what I’ve needed.
We left the luxury of the penthouse and rode the elevator down to the lobby as soothing music played over the speakers. When the doors slid open we quickly realized that we wouldn’t be able to simply walk out the front door. The lobby was chaos. A small army of soldiers were lined up at the entrance keeping back a crowd of reporters trying to push their way in. The soldiers and even some of the hotel staff were trying desperately to barricade the door. Now the paparazzi really did remind me of the
infected.
"What the hell’s going on?" I asked.
"Congratulations, Rebecca. You're famous."
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It’s like the photographers had lost their minds. I didn’t know it would get this bad. I hadn’t even considered it would be a possibility. I just wanted to let people know what was happening. I never thought I'd become a celebrity.
There was no way we could leave through the front door. So we made our way to the kitchen, to the back exit but there were reporters out there too. One guy had actually made it in to the kitchen. The chef was yelling at him, pointing a wooden soup spoon at him, telling him to get out. The photographer ignored the threat. He had his camera up to his face and started snapping away. Then another guy came up behind him, pushing his way through. But this guy didn’t have a camera.
He shoulder barged the photographer out of the way. He had a knife in his hand and a crazy, fearful look in his eyes. He pointed the blade at me and shouted something about me being a devil or a demon or an angel of death. I can’t remember exactly what he said because the next thing I knew he lunged at me with the knife.
Luckily he didn’t get very far.
Daniel grabbed the guy’s arm and snapped it backwards. He grabbed his wrist and twisted it. I heard a loud crack, like a tree branch breaking off in a violent storm. The guys jaw dropped, his mouth was wide open in shock. He choked on the pain and fell to his knees.
Daniel reached over to the photographer who had been pushed to the side. He was too stunned to even take photos now. Daniel unbuckled the photographer’s belt and whipped it off. He tied my attacker's hands behind his back. Daniel pushed him to the ground and dug his knee into the guy’s spine. The attacker’s elbows and shoulders were bent way past the normal range of movement. He was screaming in pain. "Stop! Stop! You're hurting me!"
"Good," Daniel replied as he picked up the knife off the ground and handed it to one of the chefs.
He then grabbed the camera from the photographer; he took out the memory stick and snapped it in half. Then he took me by the hand. "Come on. We’re going up to the roof."
We got back in the elevator and took it up to the top floor as Daniel made a call on his phone. "Change of plans," he said to I'm not sure who. "We need a pick up from the roof ASAP."
