‘Sure that’s the door?’ said Wade, not waiting for an answer but going up to it and pounding on it with his fist. ‘Is anyone in there? It’s me, Wade!’
Silence.
He tried the handle but the door was locked. ‘It’s another empty room, damn it, Keegan!’ he burst.
‘Samuel! It’s me, Amanda!’
The voice was faint and tremulous.
‘Are the others with you?’ Wade asked, the relief on his face plain to see.
‘Yes, we’re all here. Get us out, Sam!’
‘Stand well away from the door!’ he demanded. ‘I’m going to blow the lock! Try to protect yourselves, lie down and curl up tight!’
He asked Keegan for a grenade, which he jammed into the handle. ‘Back!’ he shouted, and both he and Keegan ran for cover. The grenade exploded with a deafening crump, and they returned moments later to see hazy shadows emerging through the smoke that swirled around the busted door. Amanda Tyler was first out. She threw her arms round Wade’s neck.
‘Oh thank God!’ she said, sobbing. ‘Thank God!’
Lauren Smith and Jack Benedict stumbled out behind her.
‘Cheryl won’t come,’ said Benedict. ‘She’s back there, scrunched up into a ball. She’s going crazy.’
Wade rushed over to her. Cheryl’s huddled, frightened, childlike form was caught in the harsh beam from the lamp. She regarded him with terrified eyes, as if he’d stepped out of her nightmares. She’d been clawing at her face and blood ran from the many deep gashes her fingernails had left.
‘You’ve gotta come with me, Cheryl,’ Wade said, holding out his hand. She scuttled further away from him and shook her head violently. Her entire frame was shivering. ‘Please, Cheryl. It’s not safe here.’ He got down onto his haunches. ‘I’ll protect you…’
‘We’re in hell,’ she said. We’re in hell!’
‘I can’t argue with you there,’ he said. ‘But we’re going to someplace better. Keegan is going to get us there.’
She broke down, her tears diluting the streaks of blood. ‘Keith promised to protect me, look after me, but he never did.’
‘I’m not Keith,’ he assured, again reaching out to her. ‘Come on, Cheryl. We don’t have much time.’
‘You promise? You promise to protect me?’
‘You have my word. I promise.’
Her damp slim hand slipped between his grimed fingers and he pulled her to her feet, putting an arm round her. ‘You’re going to be just fine. Just you wait and see.’ He handed her over to Amanda. ‘Okay, Keegan, your call; where do we go now?’
‘First you and Jack have to change into the Sentinel’s uniforms,’ Keegan said.
‘Why?’ said Jack.
But Wade didn’t need to ask. He saw her plan. ‘Do as she says, quickly,’ said Wade, and he dragged the young man over to the first dead body.
‘It’s covered in blood,’ Jack said, horrified.
‘You’ll get over it. Get stripped and put these fatigues on. I’ll get you a weapon from the other dead man.’
‘I can’t fire a gun! I’ve never done such a thing!’
‘First time for everything. If you want to see your girlfriend safely out of here then you’ll learn fast.’
‘What if they don’t fit me,’ he said, unfastening the soldier’s uniform.
Wade looked up at Keegan, her face pale in the lamplight. ‘I somehow bet they will. It’s all to do with archetypes…’
‘Archetypes?’
Keegan flashed Wade a fleeting smile.
‘Quit the jawing!’ Wade demanded, winking at her in return and running to the second dead soldier. He started the task of stripping off his uniform.
Long minutes later they were ready, Wade fastening the helmet’s strap under his chin. ‘Ready?’ Keegan asked impatiently. Wade nodded.
She led the way, Jack Benedict directly behind her, Amanda in tow holding onto Cheryl, Lauren giving her a hand, with Wade as tail-end Charlie bringing up the rear, checking there was no one on their heels. Keegan paused at a T-junction, holding up her hand for everyone to stop and be quiet. She signalled to Wade, who came dashing to the front.
‘What is it?’ he whispered close to her ear. He could smell her skin, temporarily distracted by it and the accompanying thoughts.
She indicated with her thumb to her right. The tunnel was littered with dead bodies, all Cain’s men. ‘Down there, see?’ she said. ‘That flight of steel steps leading steeply upwards. That’s the exit we want.’
He poked his head round the corner. The empty brass cartridge cases littered the ground around the corpses, glittering like pieces of gold in the light from the open trapdoor. ‘I see it,’ he breathed quietly. ‘I don’t see anyone near it. I’ll check it out, call you up. Wait for my signal. Cover my back.’
With that he loped at a crouch down the tunnel, every now and again seeking cover where he could find it, but there was no one to be seen. The fighting had been intense. He counted eight bodies, and there looked to be more up ahead, beyond the shaft of light falling from the trapdoor in the roof. As his eyes grew accustomed, some distance away he made out a huge pile of earth and rocks blocking the tunnel and realised they were on the other side of the cave-in that Lindegaard’s men had caused on first entering. They’d managed to evade their pursuers so far, but he reckoned from the sounds of gunfire they weren’t far away, desperately trying to locate them.
He waved for Keegan to bring everyone up. She gave a silent signal and the line of sorry-looking people wended their careful way through the carnage littering the tunnel’s floor.
‘I’ll take a look topside and see what the situation is,’ said Wade. ‘Same again – I’ll signal, you follow.’
Keegan nodded her assent. ‘Careful, Wade. Their vehicles are not going to be that far away.’
‘Jack,’ said Wade. The young man came up to him. He looked dreadfully nervous, his face pale and drawn. ‘You take the rear. They’re going to be our prisoners.’
‘That won’t work!’ he said. ‘They’re sure to spot that old chestnut!’
‘It’s all we’ve got. I just need it to work long enough to get to one of those transports. Sometimes the tried and trusted works the best. Trust me. We got you this far, didn’t we?’
His sigh was heavy with foreboding, but he gave a series of quick nods. ‘Sure, I’ve got it.’
‘And you remember how to fire that thing if you need to? Remember what I told you?’
‘I think so.’ Jack Benedict studied the weapon in his untried hands.
‘He’s got it,’ said Lauren, touching Jack on the arm.
‘Great,’ said Wade. ‘Keep an eye on the tunnel – we don’t want them sneaking up on us. We’re not out of the woods yet.’
At that he ascended the steps, slowing down as he approached the open trapdoor. He looked up at the sky. It was starting to get dark, and he felt chill air on his upturned face. Poking his head cautiously outside, he surveyed the scene around him. Silhouetted against a backdrop of plum-coloured mountains and a beautiful, blood-red sky, he saw both armoured personnel carriers, still and brooding on the flat expanse of desert. They were three hundred yards or so apart. The one to his right was guarded by three men, indistinct in the fading light. There appeared to be just the driver in the one parked to his left. He signalled down the steps to Keegan, calling her up.
‘Three hundred yards apart. There are three men at the one on the right. We head for the left-hand transport. Not sure if it’s just the driver at home. I’ll get out first – give the AT4 to Jack. Christ, I hope this works.’
Keegan passed the anti-tank gun down to Benedict who held the weapon gingerly. ‘What am I supposed to do with this?’
‘Hang onto it for me,’ she said. ‘When I tell you, give it back to me fast. And whatever you do, don’t touch any of those damn buttons. It’s loaded and you’ll blow us all to pieces.’
‘Oh Jesus!’ he said.
‘Right, follow me out,�
�� said Wade. ‘Remember, you’re my prisoners.’
He clambered out of the trapdoor, and immediately there was interest from the three men near the transport. A voice floated over to him, shouting something he couldn’t quite catch. His mouth sponged dry, Wade waved his gun in the air, pointed to the hole in the ground as first Keegan and then the others filed out and onto the desert, their shadows long and jagged, sweating, dirty faces painted scarlet by the lurid sunset. Jack Benedict emerged last, as ordered, the AT4 looking cumbersome in his inexperienced hands.
‘Point the bloody gun at them, then!’ Wade hissed to him, and the man struggled to shoulder the AT4 and aim the automatic rifle, but it had the desired effect. One of the three men waved back and began to trudge towards them. Wade pointed to the transport to his left, meaning he was taking his prisoners over there. ‘Quick,’ Wade said. ‘We need to get as close as we can to the transport before he gets too close to us and spots something’s wrong.
He estimated they had less than a minute or so before the soldier realised he’d been duped. He began to walk fast, telling the others to keep up. He could hear their ragged breathing, almost feel their collective fear hot on his back as he led the untidy bunch in the direction of the vehicle and its unsuspecting driver.
The snub-nosed armoured car was painted in desert camouflage, he noticed as they got up close, given a hellish sheen by the sunset, a large machinegun sticking from its back like the spine on a primitive creature. It had wheels on the front, protected by metal plating, and tank tracks on the rear. One of its thick armour-plated cab doors was open. He bet the inside had been like an oven during the heat of the day and they had been glad to let in a little cool evening air. It wouldn’t stay open long, he knew that. The bitter cold would fall fast, and soon the bonesnappers would be out in force, drawn to the sound of fighting and the smell of blood.
Thirty seconds, he mouthed to himself, working out they had fifty yards to cover to get to the transport, turning to look at Keegan and motioning aggressively with his gun.
‘It doesn’t make you look any more macho,’ she said under her breath but loud enough for him to hear.
‘Very funny. Look defeated,’ he returned stiffly.
There were shouts of alarm at their rear, shots being fired. They heard bullets zip over their heads like angry wasps.
‘Damn! They’ve found us!’ cried Keegan, seeing Sentinels begin to pour out of the trapdoor. ‘Jack – the AT4!’ she cried. He handed it to her as the others fell instinctively to their knees. ‘Cover me! Shoot at the bloody trapdoor!’ she yelled at him.
The young man let off a quick burst, the tracer from his gun showing he was wide of the mark, and the recoil jolted his unprepared body, but it was enough to force the men to fall flat to the ground. His second burst was closer, kicking up fountains of ruby-coloured dust into the air in front of their pursuers.
Wade opened up on the three men to their right and the one who’d been headed in their direction fell to the ground. The remaining two scattered and sought whatever cover the softly undulating ground offered, returning fire as soon as they did so. Wade’s face puckered as he felt a severe punch to his right shoulder and bicep, and he felt his arm go weak. The gun fell from his useless hand. He’d been hit in the same arm as before, blood already soaking through his shirt. He looked up. The armoured truck, so close now, had started its engine, and a cloud of black smoke was pumping from its exhaust.
‘Take out that truck!’ Wade yelled to Keegan, pointing at the one to his right. He grabbed his automatic with his left hand and staggered to his feet, hearing more bullets whine angrily through the air, unsure which direction they were coming from.
Keegan got down onto one knee, shouldered the AT4 and pulled up the telescopic sight, taking careful aim on the vehicle. She readied the weapon, turning off the safety. ‘Come on, girl, make it count,’ she said.
The flames leapt out of the anti-tank gun’s rear, and the rocket, riding a streak of white light, ripped through the air and struck the side of the armoured vehicle. It exploded with a deafening, thunderous roar, sending pieces of metal and smoke spiralling into the air.
Wade, taking advantage of the men to his right having to take cover from the blast, made a headlong dash for the left-hand truck, but he saw the driver through the bullet-proof glass leaning across to close the door. Wade knew he would not make it in time.
That’s when he saw, by the lurid light of the flaming truck, the grotesque black shape slink out of the encroaching blackness of the desert night, its sleek muscular form speedily tearing across the dusty land and leaping through the narrow gap of the truck’s closing door. He heard piercing, gurgling screams from the terrified driver, accompanied by a loud, terrible, and by now familiar roar that chilled him to the core.
It was a bonesnapper.
Wade continued his run, lifting his automatic as he reached the vehicle’s cab. The door was wide open now, and the sickening sight inside the cab caused him to catch his breath. The creature’s slavering jaws were savagely tearing through the soldier’s tunic into flesh, sinew and bone. Blood had been splashed everywhere. On seeing Wade at the door it reared its ugly head and roared, turning its attention on him. It launched itself through the air.
It took the full blast of Wade’s gun at point-blank range, the bullets ripping its chest cavity apart in a bloody cascade, and it fell with a dull thump to the desert floor, narrowly missing Wade.
‘Hurry!’ he called to the others, wiping the creature’s stinking blood out of his eyes. He waved at them frantically.
In the dull light he saw Keegan half dragging, half pushing the others in front of her towards the vehicle. She discarded the now useless AT4 and took the automatic rifle from Jack Benedict, firing at the men trying to scramble out of the trapdoor.
With mounting horror, Wade saw the fiery green eyes of more bonesnappers appearing to float like twinkling fireflies in the growing blackness of the desert.
‘Keegan!’ he yelled. ‘Keegan, get your arse over here!’
Amanda, Cheryl and Lauren reached the truck first, and Wade opened the side doors to let them in. They shuddered at the sight of the dead bonesnapper, giving it a wide berth.
‘Oh my God!’ said Amanda, her hand to her mouth when she beheld the shredded torso of the soldier in the cab.
‘Get inside, now!’ Wade ordered, pushing her away from the grisly sight. ‘Keegan! What are you waiting for?’
She was walking backwards, firing into the dark. ‘They’re here, Wade!’ she shouted. ‘The bonesnappers! They’re all around us!’
Lindegaard’s sentinels had abandoned the pursuit and closed the trapdoor. Bonesnappers, too many to count, were sliding in and out of the dense undergrowth, creeping low, their malicious eyes fixed on Keegan.
37
Needs
‘What are you waiting for? Do it!’ he said, spittle flying from Dale Lindegaard’s lips as he bent close to Robert Napier’s face, the gun inches away. ‘Inject the bitch!’
In an instant, Napier had grabbed Lindegaard’s gun hand by the wrist and yanked it upwards, the gun going off close to his ear, the sound deafening. Jungius leapt into action and lunged at Napier’s throat, but Napier was prepared and rammed the syringe deep into the Jungius’ hand. He’d emptied half the tremethelene into it before Jungius could pull it away, yelling incoherently. His eyes were wide, fearful, staring at his fingers which immediately began to curl into a tight claw. He backed away, not quite believing what had just happened, watching Napier and Lindegaard as they scuffled and fought for control. The gun went off again, powdered plaster drifting down from the ceiling.
Jungius began to shake uncontrollably, both hands vibrating so much they were a blur. He started at something he thought he saw to his right, then to his left, screamed in terror at the nightmarish visions being paraded before him. His mouth began to froth and his head danced as if on a spring.
Napier bowled Lindegaard to the floor, hammering th
e hand that held to gun on the tiles, once, twice, three times. Lindegaard was pummelling Napier’s back but could make no impression.
Now Jungius’ limbs started to twist into sharp, painful angles, and he screamed. His neck snapped backwards, his backbone forming a perfect arched bridge. He thrashed wildly like a fish gasping for air.
Lindegaard pulled the trigger again and the bullet narrowly missed Napier’s temple. He heard the thump of it hitting leather. With one last effort, Napier smashed Lindegaard’s hand down against the tiles and heard the snap of his broken wrist bone. The gun went spinning harmlessly away. He beat furiously at Lindegaard’s face, both fists, one after the other, wanting to kill him. Needing to kill him.
The old man fell unconscious, his cheeks, nose and lips bleeding badly. Napier rolled breathlessly off him, and as he did so he saw the hole in the leather arm of the chair in which Melissa lay.
‘No!’ he screeched, getting to his feet and rushing over to her. With dismay he saw the blood seeping profusely from a hole in her thin cotton blouse and soaking through the material. He tore frantically at the blouse, searching for the wound. His hands were soon bathed in Melissa’s blood. ‘Oh, Christ no’ he mouthed when his probing fingers found the entry point, high in her side, below her right breast.
38
Vile Black Hatred
Linda Keegan staggered drunkenly for a moment, cried out in pain and held her side.
‘Keegan! What’s wrong? Have you been hit?’ Wade slammed the door of the truck shut on the others, telling them to keep it closed, and ran over to her. She fell just as he reached her but he managed to grab a hold under her arm to stop her hitting the ground. ‘Keegan!’ he said, trying to see where she’d been hit but couldn’t find anything immediately apparent. ‘Linda, snap out of it.’ But she had her eyes closed, mumbling something to herself. It was as if she’d half fainted, no strength to her limbs, her legs like rubber.
Armageddon Heights (a thriller) Page 31
