George started screaming. Jack spun. The boy was standing in the doorway, looking directly at his mother’s remains.
As one, the creatures’ heads swivelled around to face the door. Terrifying screeches echoed around the cavernous room. With stunning speed and agility, they leapt from the floor.
Jack pulled George away and slammed the door. Jamming one of his hammers through the handle, he hoped it would stop them for a moment, enough time to get away.
Grabbing the still-screaming George by his hand, he sprinted up the corridor, back toward the room they had sheltered in.
Behind them, wood and concrete splintered with a crash. Turning, Jack saw the monsters piling into the corridor, screeching and howling, saliva dripping from their sucker mouths. Muscles rippled beneath semi-translucent skin. They spotted Jack and George, and howled as they bounded toward them.
George reached the red door first, and was pulling it open when the next door down opened. The man with the red trucker’s cap appeared, a stunned look on his face as he took in the unfolding chaos. Jack barreled into him, taking him to the ground. The man bucked beneath him, shifting his weight in an attempt to throw Jack off. His hands flailed, desperate to get a hold on Jack. Jack saw an opening and, without hesitation, rammed a screwdriver up under the man’s chin, burying it deep into his brain. The man’s eyes went wide with disbelief as Jack watched the life blink out.
Groping traitor bastard!
A creature leapt off the wall at Jack, claws extended. Jack twisted and threw himself through the door. But too slow. The creature raked its claws down Jack’s leg, tearing into his flesh. Screaming in pain, Jack stabbed down with the screwdriver, plunging it through the weird translucent skin into its flesh, and into Jack’s leg just above the knee. Gritting his teeth, Jack kicked out with his free leg, smashing into the creature’s head. The monster howled in anger, clawed limbs scratching Jack’s torso. George, leaning over Jack, started whacking the monster on the head with his little hammer. The monster momentarily let Jack go, to deal with this new annoyance, giving him the chance to kick out again. Freeing himself, Jack grabbed George, slammed the door closed, and locked the handle.
Immediately, the creatures started throwing themselves at the door.
Throom, throom, throom. The sound of the creatures hitting the door reverberated around the small room.
Ignoring the agony lancing up his body, Jack pulled himself to his feet. He knew the flimsy door and lock wouldn’t hold the monsters out for long. Hobbling over to the metal lockers next to the door, he tried to tip them over.
“George, help me push!” he yelled.
The little red-haired blessing pushed against the metal side, and with their joint effort it crashed across the doorway.
“And this one too.”
A second locker joined the first.
Exhausted from the fight, and the effort of moving the lockers, Jack gasped for breath. Blood continued to pour out of his wounds, and he was beginning to feel lightheaded. He knew he needed to stop the bleeding, at least temporarily. Sitting down with his back against the far wall, Jack taped up his wounds with the last of his duct tape. He could see they were deep. God knows what bacteria and germs those things have on their claws. Will I become one of them?
The creatures continued the slam against the door. Jack could hear tearing sounds. They were beginning to tear the plasterboard walls surrounding the door.
Frantically, Jack looked around for an escape route. The small window was out; Jack had already tried it the day before. Welded shut, for some reason. The glass was reinforced with wire mesh.
They were trapped in a room with horrifying creatures attacking them, and with no way out. The same as in Aliens… Aliens! Suddenly, Jack had the answer. The ceiling! He looked at it. It was a false hanging ceiling, made with cheap plaster tiles that could be individually moved.
Thanking his movie obsessions, and his knowledge of building materials, Jack grabbed George under his arms and hoisted him on top of the lockers. Jumping up, Jack pushed a tile up and to one side. He poked his head through. He could see right across the rooms, and dividing the rooms were solid concrete walls with enough room to walk on.
Throom. Throom. Throom.
“C’mon, George.” He grabbed the child and lifted him through into the ceiling cavity. “See that concrete bit? Run along to the end. Go! Now!”
Screeching, and then a huge rip, sounded from below as the monsters tore through the wall and into the room. Jack’s heart leaped into his throat. With one final look below, he replaced the tile, then turned to follow George, blood dripping off his boot and onto the ceiling tiles.
A monster smashed through the ceiling behind. If they hadn’t been so dangerous, he’d have laughed as it got all tangled in the metal struts and wires. A red mist descended over Jack’s vision. Pulling the rusty, red-handled machete from his belt, he lashed out at the nightmare's head, slicing into its neck and on, down through muscle and tissue. Black, gunky blood gushed over his hands. The machete stuck fast, lodged on the spinal column.
He pushed against the monster’s chest, yanking the blade out.
Another one smashed its way through the ceiling.
Oh, you want some too!
He swung out with the machete, taking a big hunk of its face off.
“Jack! Jack!” George screamed at him. More creatures started slamming through the ceiling.
“Run! I’m coming,” yelled Jack. Taking a last swipe at the nearest creature, Jack half ran, half hobbled after George.
There! He could see sunlight streaming through a maintenance tunnel. He lifted George up, and pushed him into it.
This red-haired kid, his chance at redemption.
Jack pushed himself through the tunnel, pain beginning to take its toll. Gritting his teeth with determination, he fought through it. He wanted to find Dee so bad, to hold her again. Feel her soul. Now he had a new George to love, to look after.
Dee would love him.
With the warmth of the sun on his battered body, Jack inhaled his first clean air in days, revelling in the scents; the river, the slight smell of decaying plants, even the lime from the surrounding concrete. He looked down at the boiling, bubbling river, so far below. The spillways were open. They were standing in the tunnel opening halfway up the dam. On both sides, high cliffs led downriver from the dam. The rest of the concrete dam wall soared above them.
Screeching from above him echoed around the sides of dam. The monsters howled, eager for their prey. The leader stared down at them, his huge muscles rippling under his bark-like skin. The severed heads stared at Jack from empty eye sockets. He pointed at Jack and George, and howled.
Monsters flowed down the dam from all sides, racing toward them. A dark avalanche of unstoppable sharp-toothed suckers and claws that made Jack’s blood run cold.
Glancing quickly to his left, Jack grabbed George in a bear hug. “Take a deep breath buddy, okay?” Filling his lungs, he threw them off the ledge, and into the roaring water of the spillway.
Sorry kid. Better to drown than be torn apart.
I’m sorry, so sorry I’ve failed another George…
CHAPTER SIX
Dee couldn’t believe how refreshed the shower made her feel. To wash all the stench, grime, and dirt away after so many days. It was heavenly. She stood under the glorious hot water, for a time forgetting the repugnant Variants outside, the horrors of the last few days. Reluctant, she reached up and turned off the water, then stepped out. Drying herself, she paused. Looking into the small mirror, she gazed back at the gaunt reflection. Squinting, she let out a bark of laughter. She stared at her collar bone poking out and traced the curvature of her neck with her hand, surprised. She was happy to lose some extra pounds, but shocked at how quickly it had happened. She turned away from the mirror.
Dee pulled on her borrowed clothes, grateful to have something clean against her skin. Gathering herself, she headed back into the main section.
Hearing Ben talking in the war room, she walked over.
“Yeah, that’s correct, Falcon 1. I picked up two today. Over.”
Hissing and static carried over the airwaves through the speakers. “Anything happening on the Variant front? Over.”
“None seen today, but definite signs, of course. I had to take out two of them collaborators though. Over.”
“All right, Dusty Hollow. Report in tomorrow. Over.”
“SNAFU, Falcon 1. Wilco, Out.”
Ben reached up. Switching off the radio, he turned to Dee. “Hey, how you feeling?”
“Great! Thanks so much. That shower was heavenly.”
Dee was staring at the monitors and the camera feeds they showed. She could see several Variants moving across the feeds. Pointing at them, she asked, “You’re not worried?”
“Not really. I’m more worried about the ones I can’t see. These ones are just looking for a way in, probing, looking for a weak spot. I don’t get much sleep, though.”
Dee could see from the bags under his eyes that Ben was telling the truth. Hell, no one got much sleep these days. Last night in the boat was the best sleep she’d had since all this began.
“Well, since I’m here, how about I watch for a few hours?”
“Yeah, maybe. We’ll see how we go.”
Dee looked back to the monitors, and she could now see at least twenty of the Variants roaming around, sniffing at everything. Searching.
“You’re seriously not worried?”
Ben shook his head. “SNAFU.”
“SNAFU? I heard you say that.”
“It’s military jargon. It means Situation Normal All Fucked Up. We use it sarcastically, meaning it’s chaos, but that’s normal.”
“Oh right, so you were in the Army?”
Ben nodded. “Yes, I served in the NZ Army, then the NZSAS, two tours of Vietnam, followed by some other stuff. Retired from the NZSAS when I was 45, then trained soldiers until I retired five years ago.”
Dee looked into Ben’s eyes. She could see pain buried deep. Those eyes had seen things no one should see. Not wanting to press him any further, Dee changed the subject. “Do you mind if I ask who you were talking too?”
“No, not at all. I was talking to the Army...or what’s left of it.” Ben pulled out a map of New Zealand and continued. “We have pockets here in Wellington, holed up in the bunker under Government House. There’s a small group in Auckland, under the museum. A few are scattered on the South Island, in the mountains. Most evacuated out to the islands with the Navy. Here on the Chathams, Stewart Island, Great Barrier, and Mayor Island.”
“What about other survivors, like Boss and I?” Dee asked, hopeful of news of Jack.
“A few, yes, when we can find them. We’ve been flying them out to Mayor Island.”
“Then why are you here?”
Ben rolled his shoulders, stretching out a kink, and sighed. “Well, since I have this little bunker, I was recalled to active duty and ordered to stay behind, hunt for survivors.”
Dee allowed hope to float back into her mind. Perhaps Jack was still alive. Maybe he had been airlifted to safety.
“Can we radio Mayor Island and ask about my husband, Jack?”
“It’s pretty chaotic over there, but sure, let’s go for it.”
He turned back to the bank of radios and turned one on. He turned the detent dial until he had the right frequency, then pushed down the talk button on the microphone.
“Falcon 7, Falcon 7, this is Dusty Hollow, over.”
A voice immediately answered, making Dee’s heart leap with excitement.
“Falcon 7 receiving. Over.”
“Falcon 7, looking for civvie, maybe brought a few days back. Over.”
“Name, Dusty Hollow? Over.”
Ben looked at Dee. “Jack, Jack Gee. G-E-E.”
“Falcon 7, Civvies name is Jack Gee, that’s Golf-Echo-Echo. Over.”
“Received. We’ll get back to you. Out.”
Dee paced around the room, grinning from ear to ear. She had hidden in that damp, stinky basement for thirteen days, and in the house for two. Fear of getting torn apart and eaten had frayed her nerves. But she had survived. Boss had provided humour. Her hope of seeing Jack had never diminished. But now it flared up anew, thanks to Ben. He looked like a gentle giant, but Dee had seen the ruthless former SAS soldier in action.
Ben looked at Dee, a twinkle in his brown eyes. Smirking he said. “Wait a minute. Is your married name ‘Gee’?”
Dee laughed. “Yes, I know. Dee Gee.”
It felt good to share a laugh with him.
The radio crackled to life. Dee’s heart hammered in her chest. “Dusty Hollow, Dusty Hollow, this is Falcon 7, Over.”
“Receiving Falcon 7. Over.”
“Nobody of that name on the civilian manifests, Dusty Hollow. Out.”
She was devastated. She had allowed herself to hope. Hope that Jack had made it to Mayor Island. She sat down in a chair, deflated. The roaring in her ears drowned out the rest of the radio conversation.
Ben put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry Dee, I really am. I’ll get you and Boss to the next airlift.”
Dee nodded numbly, eyes downcast. “I should have gone to him. He was in the bush. But I made him come to me.”
“Dee, where was he?”
“Um, he was up in the mountains. Killarney Lakes area.”
Ben got up and started pacing around the small room. “So he would’ve come across the country toward the city, right?”
Dee could feel a spark of excitement. “Yeah. He loves those back country roads.”
Ben fumbled through his pile of maps. Finding the one of the surrounding area, he excitedly pointed down. “Look. All the roads got choked up quickly, so maybe he had to skirt this area, forcing him wide to try to come into the city from the south?”
Dee nodded her head in agreement.
“If he ran into any Variants, he may have been taken.”
Ben placed both gnarled hands on Dee’s shoulders. “Dee, I think I know where he is. If he’s alive, he’s here.”
Dee looked at the map. Ben was pointing at the Waikato River. Next to his finger, she read Karapiro Dam.
“The dam? Why would he be there?”
“Those guys you met? Well, they used to find survivors too, only they give them to the Variants. I captured one of the traitors and extracted some information. The Variants use the dam as a meat locker, a slaughterhouse, and a bloody nest!” Ben spat the last words.
Dee felt herself fall to the ground. Food? Her Jack, now food? The mere thought of it curdled her stomach. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes.
“We have to try and find him,” she sobbed. “I need to know. Will you help me?”
Ben stroked his long beard. With a steely glint in his eyes, he said, “Hell yeah. Let’s go kill these bastards!”
Dee and Ben spent the rest of the evening making preparations. Planning a rescue was not something Dee had ever thought she would be doing, but the thought of her Jack being stored as food to be consumed was not something she could bear to imagine. This guy, who through kindness and a quirky sense of humor had helped her through the darkness. Who, through sharing his joy of movies, books, and the natural world, had helped Dee see the magic of the universe. She wasn’t going to give up on him. She had to know, and if she could banish some of these monsters to the pit of hell from whence they came, then all the better.
Dee checked on Boss a few times, but the poor kid just slept right through. With exhaustion creeping in, the bunk next to him looked more and more inviting.
“Hey, Ben.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to turn in. Wake me up for my watch, okay?”
“All right, sure. And Dee, don’t worry. We’ll go find him.”
She could see the genuine belief in Ben’s eyes. Seeing it comf
orted her, but that old demon of self doubt nagged at the back of her mind, threatening to pull her back down.
Dee lay awake for some hours, her body battered and bruised but her mind racing, thinking out all the scenarios. What if Jack is dead? Could I still go on? What chance do we have? Sleep finally pulled her into its embrace.
Dee woke to Boss shaking her shoulder. “Hey, sleeping beauty. Where are we?”
Pushing herself up, Dee struggled to shake the cobwebs out of her mind. “Umm, we’re safe...Ben…saved us...his place.”
“Ben?”
Dee ran her hands through her pixie haircut. She patted Boss on the shoulder. “It’s okay. After you were knocked out, Ben shot those two rapists and brought us here. Come on, I’ll introduce you. I bet you're starving, anyway?”
Boss looked relieved, and followed Dee into the war room. Ben turned as he heard them walk up. Dee could see his eyes were red and slightly puffy.
“Hey. You should have woken me for my watch.”
“It’s all right. You guys looked exhausted, thought I’d give you some rest.”
“Still, you need it too.”
Ben tilted his head to one side. “I’m used to it. Been surviving on little sleep most of my working life. This must be Boss?”
Dee grinned. “Oh yes, sorry. Ben, Boss, Boss, Ben.”
Holding out his hand to Ben, Boss said, “Thank you for yesterday.”
“That’s all right kid. Not all men are bastards. Just a lot of them.”
Dee watched the exchange, admiring how they accepted each other so quickly. She guessed the apocalypse could bring out the worst and the best in people.
Before the Hemorrhage Virus had torn into the fabric of society, throwing the country into chaos, she never would’ve imagined herself doing any of the things she had done in the last couple of weeks. Deep down inside is a strength most of us never know exists, until the greatest of circumstances call upon it. That time is now. Today it is time.
After a hearty breakfast Ben rustled up for them, Boss started to look more like his old self.
Extinction NZ (Book 1): The Rule of Three Page 7
