He had a paper map unfolded on his lap, tracing their route as Vinh drove. ‘Take the next left, then left again. The house should be at the end of the court.’
Vinh followed his instructions, mounting the curb to avoid a cluster of Infected huddled over a dog’s corpse. On taking the second corner, the survivalist’s property came into view, appearing more like a compound than a house. Two-metre-high brick walls topped with coils of barbed wire lined his perimeter, broken only by a reinforced sheet metal gate for vehicle access.
‘Check out the dogs,’ said Jai. ‘Looks like they’re watching the same house we’re after.’
His words broke Mark’s concentration on the house to take in the rest of the street. Sure enough, Jai was right. There were at least twenty dogs spread out in a rough semi-circle about thirty metres back from the survivalist’s walls. Some lay on the ground, heads resting on paws, while others paced restlessly back and forth. All however, had eyes pinned on his gate, waiting. Each of the animals were strongly built, with the kind of jaws that could rip a body to shreds. Vinh pulled up, completed a three-point turn and reversed up to the gate. The dogs trotted out of the car’s way, their attention now split between the gate and extraction crew.
‘Somehow I don’t think those mutts are pets anymore,’ said Vinh as he eyed one particularly large Rottweiler edging toward his door with lips snarled up to expose sharp canines.
‘Time for them to learn a little respect, I think,’ said Mark.
Vinh nodded, ‘I was never much of a dog person anyway,’ he said, flicking the safety off on his revolver. He rolled down his window and aimed at the animal.
‘Don’t kill it!’ yelled Jai from the back. ‘It’s not the animal’s fault that his owner’s up and died.’
Vinh relented and changed aim slightly, firing a bullet at the concrete to the side of the animal instead. The dog bolted back to the path, tail between its legs in fright. The other animals drew back as well, giving a respectful arc about the car now that they knew the occupants were capable of defending themselves.
‘Here’s our man,’ said Jai, pointing up at the wall. A head had popped over the edge of the brick fence. Strands of sweaty hair clung to a mostly bald scalp, over compensated for with an unkempt beard which covered the man’s face from cheek to throat. Fevered eyes scanned the street about them before the head disappeared from view once again.
‘Give me a time check, Jai,’ called Mark.
‘We’ve got ten minutes.’
‘Come on then, what’s holding the bastard up?’ muttered Mark to himself.
The gate opened a crack behind the car. ‘Here we go,’ said Jai as he opened the back of the 4WD in readiness, jumping down onto the street.
The same man they’d seen moments before above the fence emerged onto the street, his clothes a mash up of camouflaged army gear and flannelette. A young woman edged out behind him, fretful eyes skittering about the street before meeting Jai’s. The survivalist went to grab hold of her hand as she moved to step around him to the back of the car. The woman snatched her fingers out of his reach as if burned, and then spat full in his face.
‘Don’t ever touch me again, you fucking creep!’ she said, her voice shaking with anger as she backed away from him and climbed into the back of the 4WD. The man wiped the spittle from his mouth and flicked it onto the ground.
‘Ungrateful bitch!’ he shouted back, then ignoring Jai’s direction to get in the back with him, he strode forward and let himself into a rear passenger seat.
Mark turned around in his seat to face him. ‘You’re Calvin Sokolov, right? I didn’t know we were picking up a woman as well. Is she your wife?’
Calvin’s demeanour had changed now that he was sitting in the car. Despite his grotty clothes and matted beard, he affected a self-important stance, looking down his nose at Mark as he replied.
‘Not at all. I wouldn’t lower myself to marry a woman like her. She’s just what I call a plague wife,’ he said.
‘A what?’ asked Mark, clearly confused.
Calvin let out a short chuckle. ‘People like you always thought I was mad, the neighbours would complain I was ruining their property prices by setting my place up to survive Armageddon. But look who’s laughing in their dead, rotted faces now, eh?’ He flicked his eyes briefly towards the woman in the back seat, ‘She’s just some slut I rescued a few months back. We have a deal going. She services my needs, and I let her stay behind my walls and out of the zombies’ reach. But for all the thanks she’s shown today, I should have kicked her out long ago.’
Mark recoiled in his seat as he began to understand. ‘So, you’ve threatened to turn her out unless she submits to you?’ he said, voice sour with disgust.
‘That’s a rough way of describing our mutually beneficial arrangement,’ said Calvin, unable to suppress a slight smirk. ‘She’s always been free to try her luck amongst the Infected, or with the dog pack. But since she chose to stay, she knew what her payment was.’
Mark turned back around, quiet for a moment as he seethed at the man’s words. ‘Time check, Jai!’
‘Five minutes, we need to get going.’
‘Not with this sick bastard on board, we’re not,’ he muttered, stepping out of the vehicle. He opened the rear passenger door, grabbed Calvin by the shirt and ripped him from the car. With a hard shove, he sent him stumbling back to land on his arse.
Calvin scrambled back to his feet before stopping dead as he saw Mark’s rifle aimed dead centre of his forehead. ‘You can’t do this to me!’ he screamed. ‘It’s murder!’
Mark ignored him, climbed back into the front seat and shut his door. The dogs that had maintained a respectful distance while a rifle was present now began to contract inwards on the survivalist, sensing a meal was close at hand.
‘Give me a gun at least, these dogs are dangerous!’ Calvin’s voice cracked. ‘The pack’s had us trapped for a week!’ Deep growls rumbled from a dozen throats as the dogs crept closer.
‘Mark, just shoot him if you’re not bringing him back. Sort your shit out, we’ve got to leave now!’ snapped Vinh.
‘Time’s up!’ shouted Jai. ‘We’ve got ten minutes until that bomb goes off.’
Mark thumped the dashboard in frustration. ‘Fine, the courts can deal with him back at the base, but I’ll be damned if he sits in this car with the rest of us.’
Mark opened his door again. ‘Get on the roof, you can sit in the carry cage. Might want to hold on tight though, it’d be a real pity if you fell off,’ he said.
The survivalist scrambled up the ladder on the back of the 4WD as the dogs sprinted in for the kill. A thumping on the roof indicated that the dogs had missed their lunch.
Vinh floored the accelerator, the rear tyres spinning momentarily before the car lurched forward. The streets were empty now of Carriers, allowing him to negotiate the corners at speed. As they reached the main road, he accelerated heavily. To the south of the small town, an ear-splitting explosion ripped upward to the sky, flame billowing outwards in an all-consuming cloud of death. The car rocked slightly as it was pummelled by a concussion wave before Vinh wrestled it back under control.
Mark stared back at Leopold, eyes wide in naked awe at the sheer destruction achieved by the one blast. The southern end of the suburb from where they had just bolted was lost underneath a wall of flame. He put one hand up onto the car’s window and winced at the temperature of the glass, hot at even this distance from the inferno. A muffled scream penetrated the cabin from the survivalist on the roof.
Mark turned around to Jai and the woman in the back. ‘Should we let him back in? His hands are probably roasting as he holds onto the metal cage.’
‘No, leave him there,’ said the woman, a glint of satisfaction in her eye at the sound of the man’s terror. ‘Those hands used to hold me down. Let them burn until his fingers can’t hold anything else again.’
Mark shrugged as he turned forward again, conscience salved. ‘Fair enough.
’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Vinh slowed to a stop, wheels crunching in the gravel before the Fort’s main gate. A young soldier stood to the right of the entrance, his rifle hanging informally at his side. The soldier’s gaze moved from Vinh up to the roof, his mouth opening slightly in surprise at the man sitting in the carry cage. As the soldier looked back at Vinh once more, Mark leaned across in front of his Sergeant to head off the sentry’s inevitable questions.
‘We’re back from an extraction at Leopold. We’ve got a woman in the car – that loser up there was offered a seat as well, but he told me he wanted to feel the wind in his hair while we drove.’
The soldier looked back up at the man on the roof who was now whimpering softly, cradling his hands against his chest. ‘Bullshit,’ he whispered.
‘Yeah, I know, right?’ Mark said, shaking his head in mock incredulity. ‘Surviving the plague does some weird shit to people, eh? Now can we get in, I’ve got to sign this pair over for someone else to babysit.’
The sentry nodded, his face still sceptical as he set the gate in motion. Vinh stared straight ahead as if nothing unusual was sitting on his roof and drove into the Fort’s interior.
They parked in front of a small building from where the civilian extractions were coordinated. Jai showed the woman inside before returning to his squad mates.
‘Is he coming down or what?’ he asked, staring at Calvin who was still sitting on the roof of the 4WD.
‘He’s having a cry that his hands are too sore,’ Vinh said before turning his attention back to Calvin. ‘Look I don’t care how the fuck you get down, but you’ve got less than three seconds before I drag you off head first! Now fucking move, arsehole!’
Calvin shot a look of hatred at the three of them before inching his way to the rear of the car. Instead of climbing, he elected to jump to the ground, landing in a sprawling mess. Mark hooked one hand under an armpit, hauled him to his feet and marched him inside.
Sitting behind an old-fashioned timber desk was a Major who looked up at their interruption. As he took in the state of the survivalist, he put down the piece of paper in his hand and pushed his chair back.
‘What the hell happened to him, Lieutenant Collins? Did you hang him over a fire pit or something?’
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Sir,’ said Mark, staring straight over the Major’s shoulder at the wall.
‘Look at his face and scalp, they’re bright red and blistering; and check this out,’ he said, walking around the desk and grabbing onto one of the man’s hands. ‘For god’s sake, Collins, his hands have third degree burns!’
Mark glanced down, feeling a guilty pang at the condition of his charge’s hands. Angry blisters covered the surface of his palm and fingers where he’d gripped the heated metal, oozing yellow serous fluid where the skin had torn.
‘Well, it tends to a get a little hot when you ignite a fire bomb with your troops still in the vicinity,’ said Mark, a touch of frustration entering his voice.
‘They tried to kill me, they did!’ interjected the survivalist.
‘We did no such thing,’ drawled Mark. ‘My soldiers, along with the woman we rescued, will all vouch that nothing of the sort happened. Do you see any bruises or wounds on him to suggest assault? Of course not, because it didn’t happen. But that doesn’t change the fact that the man’s still scum. I want him charged with rape and false imprisonment of the woman Jai brought in here not two minutes ago.’
The Major’s expression hardened at the accusation. ‘Wait here, I want to confirm that she’ll testify against him.’ He disappeared out a back door.
‘You bastards won’t get away with this,’ spat the survivalist.
Mark just raised an eyebrow. ‘I reckon you’ll find your ‘plague wife’ isn’t so scared of you anymore. You’re fucked, buddy. And with capital punishment back on the cards – you’ll probably be hanging by your neck before the week’s out.’
The Major walked back in the room ten minutes later, a pair of steel handcuffs in his grip.
‘Your story checks out,’ he grumbled to Mark, throwing him the restraints. ‘Now on top of everything else, I’m stuck organising a civilian trial, Collins. Get him to the medical clinic. He’ll need those burns seen to before we can place him in the cells.’
Mark applied the cuffs about each wrist, tightening each loop until there was no room left to move. Leaving Vinh and Jai to sort out the car, he took hold of the chain links between his prisoner’s hands and pulled him from the office. The survivalist said nothing; mute and pale after the Major’s pronouncement, he followed meekly in Mark’s wake. The sky above threatened to dump rain, the clouds grey and heavy as they walked to the clinic.
To the right of the road was a bustling hive of activity. The open grassed area at the back of the Fort had become a massive construction yard, as thirty semi-trailers were converted into mobile fortresses in preparation for the coming invasion of Geelong. Work looked like it was nearing completion, with the finishing touches being completed to the last two trucks as Mark and his prisoner walked by.
On reaching the medical clinic, Mark was surprised to find the door locked. He jiggled the handle a few more times to make sure, then gave three sharp raps on the wood. From the other side, a set of footsteps could be heard approaching, before a sharp click sounded as the lock was disengaged. The door swung open to reveal a man wearing a navy uniform, a red stethoscope hung around his neck giving away his profession.
Mark stuck his hand out in greeting and introduced himself. ‘I take it you’re Harry’s replacement?’
The doctor accepted his handshake before disengaging to push a thick pair of glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. ‘That’s right. I’m Captain Buckmire, but feel free to call me Jim,’ he said with an easy smile. ‘Quite glad to have a break from the ship myself, although I didn’t think I’d be playing prison guard.’
‘Geez, word travels quick. Did the Major already ring you?’
Jim looked mildly confused for a moment before his eyes fell to the cuffs about the survivalist’s wrists. ‘Surely not another one?’ He hooked a thumb over his shoulder back inside the clinic, ‘I’ve already got that rogue who caused all the trouble at the King Island camp in here.’
Mark recalled the stab wound that Erin had inflicted on the man. ‘Has his leg wound gone bad or something?’
‘Nope. I was the medic on board who managed that injury when he was first retrieved. Just quietly between you and me,’ he said, dropping the volume of his voice, ‘if the girl had gone a little closer to the groin and got his femoral artery – she would have done us all a favour. Bloody disgrace to the Navy! No, this time around, he reckons he broke up a razor blade, buried it in a chunk of meat and swallowed the lot. I call bullshit, but with no x-ray facilities, I can’t prove him wrong. So now I’m stuck with him in my clinic for a week to watch for any sudden abdominal haemorrhage. I reckon he just wanted a break from the cells.’
‘I apologise in advance, Jim, but unfortunately I’m delivering another piece of excrement into your care. He’s sustained a few burns on the trip back from Leopold. Nothing serious enough to stop him going to trial in a couple of days though.’
Calvin listened quietly, his eyes tracking back and forth between Mark and the doctor during the conversation before settling on Mark’s face with venomous fury at his summary.
‘Well, come inside and let’s see what’s wrong with you,’ said the doctor, stepping out of the doorway and motioning for them both to enter. ‘Where’s the injury?’ he said abruptly once the survivalist was parked on a bed.
Mark undid the prisoner’s handcuffs to allow the doctor access for treatment, then re-attached one restraint to an ankle, the other to the metal bedframe. As the doctor settled in to work, de-roofing the blisters on the survivalist’s palms, Mark quietly excused himself and left.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mark paused in the hallway for a moment, straighten
ing his uniform before opening the door. Although he was now comfortable as a Lieutenant in the presence of his own men, he still felt out of place when in the company of other officers. None had made his life particularly difficult, and yet he felt like a man apart, being the only one not to have completed an officer cadetship at Duntroon. Mark reprimanded himself for allowing the negative line of thought. He’d crawled through the mud at Kapooka as a general recruit, surviving the bastardisation process to become an enlisted soldier with subsequent deployment to the front lines of Iraq and Afghanistan. He squared his shoulders, taking pride in his own history. He may not have entered the army as an officer-cadet, but he’d earned his position at the table by proving time and again that he could fight and win.
Mark padded forward, thick green carpet soaking up all noise of his heavy boots as he took his place at the table with the other officers. He was back in the same room where he’d been notified of his field commission weeks earlier. This time around, the wood panelled walls of the room were somewhat darker, with shadows cloaking each corner due to the late hour. As a Major filled the last spot at the table, General Black shoved his chair back and stood, drawing every eye in the room. The General surveyed the faces before him, his expression hard, leaving no doubt at the man’s iron clad determination. With a slight downward tilt of his chin, he broke eye contact and turned to a large map of greater Geelong.
‘That’s where we need to be, men,’ he said, stabbing his finger at the location of the car factory on the far side of Corio bay, ‘Where we can start full scale production of the armoured vehicles needed to eradicate the plague from our country. Those vehicles will house our troops in cocoons of reinforced steel while they cull the Infected on the streets. And all that separates us from our goal is one wretched town. Geelong.’
Mark looked past the General to the map pinned on the wall. The task before them was no small exercise. Although Geelong may have been termed a town, it had become a city in its own right, housing over 230,000 people. Queenscliff’s Carriers had come close to overwhelming the Fort’s walls, and they had been but a fraction of the numbers involved in the coming battle. He couldn’t help but feel the fortified trucks would fall pitifully short. General Black cleared his throat, breaking Mark’s morbid appraisal.
Plague War: Pandemic Page 20
