by Ricky Cooper
'This is despite Ridgmont being under orders to share all and any intelligence in his possession pertaining to our operational area.
'Needless to say it fucked us right up, and well, I found out recently he had done the same thing to us the year before when we were called into Russia.'
Davies looked at Baker slightly askance.
'So let me get this straight, this prick has got the pip because his team got passed over for a couple of jobs simply because we are the more logical choice, and if I am getting the jist of this, has caused the deaths of dozens of our own men by being a tight arsed twat.'
Baker stifled his laughter as he listened.
'Eloquent as always John, but one thing you should know is; the mission two weeks ago?'
Davies nodded, 'Yeah, the one that almost got me killed, thanks for that by the way.'
Baker merely raised an eyebrow at Davies' flippant remark. 'That was him!' Davies cursive filled tirade was drowned out by the crackling hiss of the radio speakers as Kerr's voice boiled out of it.
'Acknowledge, John get out there and secure the civilian, oh and forget about Ridgmont, he'll be dealt with.'
With a muffled curse and grumble, Davies stepped from the back of the van and made his way towards to the staggering and drunk form of the female party-goer.
With a wave of his hand he called over one of the waiting metropolitan police officers, 'Constable please escort this woman out of the area and ensure she is screened by the Biological Contamination Team.'
The man stared at Davies, the contempt swimming in his eyes as he grasped the woman's elbow a little to tightly making her whine at the pain dancing through her alcohol soaked mind.
'Oi, dick head!'
The officer spun his anger spilling from him as he snarled at Davies.
'What do you want now?'
Davies smirked at the posturing show from the twenty-something constable in front of him.
'A little courtesy would be nice. I know we're on your “turf” but remember, you called us and secondly,' he paused, willing himself not to smile, 'Do you really want to leave a hand-print bruise on the young lady? You wouldn't want her lodging a complaint when she's sober.'
The officer blanched slightly at the minor threat.
'Also, what is up with you, did I do something to you in another life, piss in your cornflakes or something?'
The officer said nothing as he relaxed his grip and walked away leading the young woman to the yellow and white van of the B.C.T. unit currently on site.
'Fucking prick,' Davies muttered as he climbed back into the matte-grey van. Baker looked up, 'What the hell got your panties in a bunch?' Davies chucked a thumb in the direction of the retreating police officer as he mumbled a reply. Shaking his head Baker spoke, 'I know the plod in the area are a little pissed that we were pulled in, they seem to resent not being able to sort this out on their own; well the rank and file do at least. They seem to be under the impression that it can be sorted out by their CO19 officers, although while they're highly skilled and capable, we both know this is something out of their league and that's what's got their knickers in a knot; so John when it comes to the kids kicking up a fuss for us being in their sand box just let it slide.'
Davies chuckled and sat back down on the steel topped stool opposite the radio unit.
38
Dreamers Night Club
First Floor
The first floor opened out before them into a maze of interconnecting rooms and cubicles surrounding a central atrium like dance floor.
Woodwrow moved forwards cautiously, the rhythmic thump of the music below vibrating up through the Vibrams soles of his combat boots. A short, sharp wave of his hand sent Williams and Brooks left, silently scurrying like rats in a crouched run through the twisted turns of the maze that stood before them.
A soft moaning gasp drew Woodwrow's attention. With a silent caution only equalled by a cat stalking its prey, he approached the corner.
His armoured back thunked into the cool hardened plastic wall with little more than a hushed whisper of sound. With his rifle pulled tight to his shoulder, he leant in and slowly peered round the corner. His eyes scanned the gloomy interior of the four foot by six foot cubicle, his eyes slowly adjusting to the semi-ambient light; a soft muffled chuckle escaped his lips as he watched the scene inside.
The groaning increased as he watched their movements intensify, clamping his lips tightly together to stifle his laughter, he pulled away from the edge and motioned for Sheperd to follow him on. As they moved, the groaning turned. A sense of unease was settling in, tickling at him, making Woodwrow stop mid stride. Turning on his heel, he motioned back to Sheperd as he set off moving back to the corner of the cubicle.
Glancing in his eyes widened sharply as he watched the scene unfold, his mouth moved forming the words he so longed to say, but nothing, not even the whisper of a word ushered forth.
The long reflective strands of platinum hair spilled over the girl's shoulders as he watched her head descend. To any other person passing by the copulating pair would have seemed like any other set of lovers in the throes of a passionate sex filled embrace.
To his eyes though it was a far more deadly tableau, he watched as the young man's eyes widened in shock, the glazed look of lust wrung dry by the sheer terror that had gripped his mind as he pounded at the woman's back with his clenched fists. His panicked thrashing slowly growing weaker as the seconds ticked by. The writhing buxom female astride him dove in once more, her mouth closing on his collar bone as she bit deeply into the tender flesh encasing his form. She tore her head free, fingers sliding over her chin as she pushed the cascading river of blood into her slime caked lips. She sucked at her fingers relishing the taste of her former lover's blood. Her jaw churned the lump of flesh, pulverising the limp chunk of human dermis as she drank in the sharp tang of sweat coated skin. Woodwrow spun round the corner reaching outwards, his hand entwining in the long silken strands of her hair; with a vicious yank he wrenched her from her pedestal; a slick, wet, pop issued from between her thighs as she was dragged free of her former lover's member.
Throwing her to the floor Kevin stamped down, pinning her hair beneath his boot as she snarled and thrashed against the hard concrete floor. His dispassionate gaze locked onto hers as he levelled his rifle and fired one clean round into the centre of her forehead. 'Kev, this lad is fucked, what's the call?' Lifting two gloved fingers to his ear Woodwrow opened the channel. 'Baker we got a confirmed contact one twenty-three year old female confirmed Infected, she was screwing the brains out of some lad here, then decided she was hungry and used him as a portable buffet, we terminated the female and wanted to know the call on the boy here.'
Kevin pulled his fingers away from his ear as he waited a slow lingering second for Baker's reply.
'Did he get Infected?'
Kevin snorted slightly. 'Well he was wearing a rubber if that's what you mean, but if you're asking if he got bit, that's an affirmative; she took a large chunk clean out of his collar bone and throat.'
Pulling his fingers away once more he heard a deep agitated sigh then the one word he wished he hadn't.
'Terminate.'
Double clicking on his coms piece, Kevin acknowledged the order as he stepped forwards and raised his rifle, then with a slow five pound squeeze on the trigger put a round through the man's head.
Sheperd stood there his face an expressionless mask as he watched the whole episode unfold, he had heard the entire conversation for himself and had expected the inevitable outcome. Despite that, it still left a sour taste in his mouth as he watched the incomprehensible expression unfold on the face of the man whose life had been condemned through a simple snide twist of fate.
'I hate having to do that.'
Sheperd walked past tapping his hand lightly on Woodwrow's shoulder as he passed, 'You and me both bud, still it has to be done.'
Woodwrow nodded, 'Yeah, yeah, doesn't mean I have to like it,
does it?'
Sheperd remained silent as he lifted his rifle to his shoulder and moved forwards with Woodwrow close behind him.
****
'Anything?'
Silence reigned supreme for what seemed like eternity before any reply was forthcoming.
'Ugh I, I don't see anything, I think all the people have gone.'
A soft rustle of clothing and a grunt issued up from behind them as someone moved.
'Get your fucking arse out my face.'
'Shut up.'
'Fuck off, you shut up, tell me to fucking shut up.'
A wet slap echoed through the cramped confines of the storage cupboard.
'Both of you shut up. I can't hear a thing with you two bitching at each other.'
The room was flooded with a bright spear of white light as the door in front of them was wrenched open; squeals and screams of terror issued from the seven very cramped and sweaty occupants.
'Hey Rob got a room full...'
His words were cut short as a heavy boot covered foot slammed into his face; Williams pitched backwards and crashed hard into the uncaring floor below him with an echoing thump.
Wheezing and coughing slightly he lashed out with his right hand as a scurrying form went tearing past his vision; a girlish squeal met his ears as he watched a pair of fish net stockinged legs disappear past his head. A sharp burst of breath brushed over the side of Williams face, the echoing thump of flesh on wood rumbling across the landing as the girl hit the floor with a bone shaking impact.
Snatching his pistol from its holster he levelled it at the door in front of him before anyone else could wriggle their way free.
'Don't you bloody well move!'
Brooks nudged the sheer lace covered shoulder with his boot, watching as he pushed over the groaning form of a girl, his rifle levelled at her face as she blearily looked up at him.
The thick dark purple lipstick left a dark stain on the floor where she had fallen face first, blood running in smeared strings was slowly trickling along her alabaster cheek as it wormed its way out of one nostril. She visibly flinched as Brooks bent down and hauled her to her feet.
'Come on missy, up you get.' Her short tartan skirt slid along her thighs as she tried to hide her modesty, Brooks smirked as he watched the futile effort. 'Bit late to be doing that ain't it love? That thing's short enough to warrant being a belt.' She shot a spite filled glare at him as she licked the blood from her lip, smearing a large line of purple across her pink tongue. She stumbled as Brooks dragged her towards a small table. The girls New-rock boots thumping as she attempted to keep her feet beneath her. With his pistol still levelled on the doorway in front of him Williams clambered to his feet.
'Brooks, she okay?'
Brooks gave the woman a cursory glance over as he set her down on a vacant chair.
'Yeah, seems okay, did you really have to send her face first into the floor.'
'You try staying polite with a size eight boot in your face.'
'How d'you know it was a size eight.'
'It was the last fucking thing I saw before I ended up on my damned arse.'
Brooks chuckled as he pulled a pair of plasti-cuffs from his belt, with a sharp rasp he pulled them closed behind the woman's back and walked swiftly over to his team mate.
'Okay you lot enough hiding, come on out, take it slow and easy, and keep your hands at head height with your palms facing us.'
Slowly, with fear induced caution borne only by those faced with the prospect of actively walking into the unknown, they exited the janitorial closet. Williams kept a mental count of those walking towards him. Squinting, pale, sweat stained, and scared witless they moved towards him like children. Groping for a sign of reassurance they stumbled alone and scared in the darkness.
'Okay, that's far enough. All of you down on your knees and keep your hands where they are.'
Williams watched with a slightly fascinated gaze as the eight other civilians moved as one placing themselves on their knees in an almost perfect line.
'Brooks, cuff em.'
'Williams you're overreacting a little, just send them down the stairs and let the plod sort them out.'
'No, they attacked us, if they want to play hard-ball let's play fucking hard-ball.'
Brooks moved and stood in front of Williams, arms out to the side, 'No Dom she struck out because you fucking blinded them with the damned lamp, now let them go and get checked; you lot move and take the queen of the damned with you.'
The stunned and dazed group cautiously rose to their feet and began to walk away, one of them lifting the woman from the chair and semi-dragging her away as she dazedly staggered along beside them.
'What the fuck is your problem?'
Williams shoved Brooks in the chest as he glared at his squad mate. Brooks spun sweeping his legs out from under him sending Williams crashing to the floor.
'All that woman did was lash out at what she thought was something trying to hurt her, and you go right off the rails, what were you going to do leave them here like a trussed up turkey for the first Infected to come along and chew its way through them.
'If that was your plan, then you're fucking losing it bro, our job is to clear the infection and get the civilians out, not arrest them. We don't have that authority and you damned well know it; now get your shit squared away and get on with the job we were sent in to do'
Williams clambered to his feet ignoring the proffered hand of his squad mate and pushed past Brooks striding off heading ever deeper into the maze of rooms and cubicles.
'Fucking douche bag throwing a man strop,' muttered Brooks as he shook his head, he watched his team mate disappear around a corner. Brooks broke into a slow run and headed off in pursuit.
The Van
Baker sat dozing against the side of the van, a half empty bottle of water sat on the floor. A slowly descending droplet of sweat slid along the surface of his scalp, skating down past his ear leaving a glimmering streak behind as it made its slow journey southwards. It slid off the edge of Baker's jaw, falling with all the grace of an air-born hippo, vanishing in an instant, when it made contact with the edge of his uniform.
'Oi baldy.'
A ball of paper bounced off his head and rolled to a stop besides his feet.
'That's Lieutenant Baldy to you Sergeant.'
'Whatever, wake the fuck up and do your job, Williams and Brooks just found a bunch of civvies holed up in a closet and have sent them out, should be getting picked up by the plod in a couple of minutes.'
Baker stretched slightly and stood, pushing the vans doors open as he did so. Hopping out; he sucked in a lung full of the smog laden night air and walked out to the throng of people leaving the club.
With a sharp whistle and a wave of his hand he called over several police officers.
'Right boys, appreciate the help here, I need you to guide them over to the B.C.T. van and get them checked out, as for the one in zip cuffs, get them off her and send her with the others, cheers lads.'
Baker turned away knowing full well the look of utter contempt, and in some cases hatred, was being directed to his unseeing back. It was all he could do to keep himself from roaring with laughter at the inequity of the whole incident.
39
Dreamers Night Club
Second Floor
Sheperd skulked in the shadows of the doorway as he watched the corridor, Woodwrow's near silent footsteps echoed behind him as his team commander cleared the room.
'It's empty, nothing in here except used condoms and plastic cups of stale beer.'
He tapped Sheperd on the shoulder and slipped past him, the shadow of the corridor seemingly leapt up and swallowed him as he headed into the darkness. 'This is too quiet Kev, too freaking quiet.'
Woodwrow fired a glance over his shoulder at Sheperd as he moved quietly on snapping glances left and right, the blank and empty cubicles seemingly accusing him as he flowed past them like water over a stream bed.
&nbs
p; A snatching muscular twitch tugged at the corner of Sheperd's eye as he followed on after Woodwrow. An itching sensation tugged at the base of Sheperd's mind as he rounded a corner. Stopping he pulled his rifle tighter into his shoulder and stared into the empty, lonely, dead, space of the dance floor.
Woodwrow paused six feet in front of him, his breathing soft, almost dangerously shallow as he slowly scanned the room. His breath hung in front of him, a stale cloud of white set against the onyx darkness that sucked the life out of all it touched.
He stepped forwards, teeth chattering slightly from the sudden drop in temperature, flexing his fingers against the grip of his weapon his palms slick inside his gloves, the dampness driving him insane with a desperate need to wipe the sticky film from his form. Chewing on his lip he slowly tracked the room once more.
Dropping to one knee he called Sheperd forwards. Seeing the slow, deliberate movement, Sheperd moved; his movements slight, riddled with an overbearing caution as he stepped into the void ahead. A feral growl echoed from the dark as a wet thudding sped towards him, turning Sheperd dropped his eye to the mil-dot tactical sight on his weapon searching vainly for the source of the noise. His breath left him. An unyielding, vibrant mass of energy ploughed into him tearing him from his feet as his world went sideways. Gun fire lit up the darkness as his back crashed into the floor.
****
The floor shook beneath their feet as Brooks and Williams sprinted towards the sound of gunfire, panicked screaming and cries of terror, erupted from outside the building, as the overtaxed, and slightly breathless, calls for information invaded their ears.
Stabbing his fingers into the ear piece, Williams finally replied.
'Don't know what the hell that was; on route to see if we can hook up with the boss and Sheperd, get all the civvies out of there then head up to the second floor and see what you can find. We'll call you if we find anything our end, stay safe.'
