Purification a-3

by David Moody

  ‘Looks that way,’ he replied, his voice quiet and trembling slightly. ‘I just want them to get it over with. If they’re really going to do this, I just want them to do it now and stop all this stupid and pointless…’

  His words were abruptly cut short as the ominous and unerringly familiar mechanical rumbling began which signalled the opening of the main doors. He nervously swallowed and licked his dry lips, unable to look away from the entrance to the bunker, too scared to keep watching but even more afraid not to. The outside world slowly began to appear. Because of the slope of the entrance ramp he became aware of the sky first - a dirty, grey-black, heavy and rain-filled sky that hung over the desolate scene and which made the day seem almost as dull and dark as night. And then it began. An unexpected split-second of silence and calm was quickly ended by a sudden torrent of bodies which began to pour into the base before being pushed back and obliterated by the soldiers with flame-throwers. From a distance Heath couldn’t make out the shapes, details and actions of individual corpses - just a constantly writhing and lurching, featureless mass of movement which spilled forward before being destroyed by the flames. For a gut-wrenching and seemingly endless moment the sheer weight of advancing bodies appeared to threaten to put the front row of soldiers on the back foot, almost forcing them to move further back into the base again before they were able to dig in and push forward.

  Their vastly superior power and strength soon allowed them to eat into the crowd with relative ease. Brutal and one-sided, as the first battles quickly unfolded the familiar smell of burnt flesh began to fill the cavernous hanger, carried along by clouds of dirty, suffocating smoke.

  ‘We should get ready to move,’ Michael urged anxiously as he jogged across the width of the hanger.

  Donna reacted instantly but Heath failed to respond, transfixed by the hell he could now see outside. The personnel carrier began to drive forward, followed by the jeeps and by other heavily armoured vehicles and surrounded by a ring of troops who launched carefully controlled jets of flame into the crowd. As the troops began to move away from the base Michael ran to stand next to the other man and then took a few steps further forward.

  ‘Cooper reckons they’re really going to go for it this time,’ Jack Baxter said, suddenly appearing behind the two men. ‘Says they might even be trying to get rid of the whole lot of them.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Heath mumbled, his voice barely audible.

  ‘But what’s the point?’ Michael wondered. ‘For God’s sake, what good do they think it’s going to do them? Get rid of them all and more and more will come. Whatever happens out there they’re either going to end up back down here in this bunker or stuck outside in their suits. One way or another they’ll be trapped. They might as well just cut their losses and…’

  ‘And you can’t reason with them,’ Cooper said, joining the others and overhearing their conversation. He watched as the soldiers marched outside and thought for half a second about how he should have been among them. ‘Try and put yourselves in their shoes,’ he continued, ‘we don’t know much about what’s happened, but we know a hell of a lot more than they do. We might not have the hardware they’ve got, but we’re far better placed to deal with all of this than they are. All they know is they can’t breathe the air outside because it will probably kill them, and that those bloody things out there are preventing them from getting the clean air they need. You can understand why they’re seeing the bodies as the enemy. The only option they think they’ve got left now is to blow the fucking things to kingdom come and be rid of them.’

  ‘But don’t they understand…?’ Baxter began pointlessly before Cooper interrupted.

  ‘No they don’t, not fully. They haven’t seen half of what we’ve seen.’

  ‘But the bodies won’t stop, will they? They’ll keep coming until there’s nothing left of them.’

  Outside the first troops had made steady progress. The area immediately surrounding the base - which already resembled a churned and bloody first world war battlefield

  - was swarming with movement. The bodies approached from all angles and were beaten and battered into the ground by adrenaline-fuelled soldiers who had been kept waiting underground too long. Every last man and woman laid into the approaching cadavers with anger and force, driven on by fear and pent-up frustration and emotion.

  Those who had not been above ground before, although shocked and disgusted by the bizarre and relentless battle unfolding around them, were surprised by the relative ease with which the corpses could be destroyed. Having been outside for only a few minutes, however, to many of the troops the vast numbers of the dead and their unstoppable nature had yet to become apparent.

  Heavy artillery was quickly deployed with mortars and shells being fired into the endless crowd beyond the perimeter of the base. In the near distance constant explosions shook the ground and tore the bodies apart.

  Closer to the entrance the personnel carrier had almost reached another exhaust shaft. Walking alongside one of the vents, and shielded from the battle by the protective ring of fire which surrounded the convoy, the senior officer on the field, Jennens, watched events unfolding around him with a degree of cautious satisfaction. His men and women were already doing well, despite appalling conditions. The gloom of the afternoon’s rapidly fading light was worsened by hissing rain that poured down on the scene relentlessly, drenching everything. The ferocious heat of the flame-throwers turned the grimy pools of water which had puddled in the churned, furrowed land into steam.

  Underneath his boots Jennens crunched charred and cindered flesh and bone into the mud.

  The vent was secure. Jennens peered into the gloom beyond the scattered remains of the hundreds of bodies which had already been destroyed. He’d seen some appalling sights in his time, but never anything like this.

  The size and ferocity of the apparently endless crowd was remarkable and terrifying. He watched with disgust and a morbid fascination as still more of the dark, skeletal creatures scrambled, tripped and crawled through the mayhem towards his soldiers and towards certain destruction. In the midst of the confusion Cowell, one of his most trusted men, appeared at his side.

  ‘We can do this,’ he said, shouting to make himself heard through his facemask and over the wind and rain and sounds of constant battle. The muddied ground shook momentarily as a small mortar landed short of its target and exploded nearby, sending a gruesome shower of random body parts shooting into the squally air. ‘If we’re going to do this at all, then we should do it now.’

  Jennens thought for a moment. Cowell was right. The opposition, although huge in numbers, was weak and offered no tangible resistance. Although wiping them out would not allow the soldiers any more freedom, this was unquestionably a perfect opportunity to take back some of what they’d lost. The defensive position they’d intended to take had already become offensive and attacking. If they could destroy enough bodies and beat the remainder back to a far enough distance and keep them there, they would be able to fortify the entrance to the bunker and properly clear and secure the exhaust vents. Although there was still no way the military personnel could yet survive outside the base, the officer immediately recognised the psychological importance of ridding themselves of the tens of thousands of cadavers which plagued and complicated their already miserable existence.

  ‘Shall I give the order?’ Cowell asked. Jennens looked around the battlefield again. In the short time he’d been stood there his troops had made even more progress through the diseased crowds. The enemy (if they could really be called that) were defenceless against the comparative might of the military. All the dead had were numbers. Jennens knew they had nothing to lose.

  ‘Do it,’ he commanded.

  ‘Can’t see,’ complained Baxter, edging closer to the soldiers charged with protecting the hanger entrance. ‘Can’t see a bloody thing.’

  ‘Stay back, Jack,’ Michael warned.

  A sudden familiar noise from behind the sm
all group of survivors startled them momentarily. Cooper span around to see that the decontamination chamber doors were opening again.

  ‘Shit,’ he cursed as a second ragged column of nervous soldiers appeared from the depths of the base. There seemed to be almost twice as many of them this time.

  ‘What’s all this about?’ asked Heath anxiously.

  ‘My guess,’ Cooper answered as he watched more than a hundred troops file past, ‘is that they’ve decided to try and clear them away. This is the showdown we’ve been promised.’

  As they emerged from the shadows into the light of the hanger the soldiers increased their speed, breaking into a gentle jog for a few paces before accelerating and sprinting out into the semi-darkness with weapons held high, ready for battle. The light outside was deteriorating rapidly. The survivors stared anxiously into the gloom as the guards at the front entrance parted to allow the re-enforcements through.

  ‘This isn’t good,’ Baxter whined, feeling his stomach churn and twist with nerves. ‘This is not at all good.’

  As the fighting outside increased in ferocity and volume, the small group of survivors again herded towards their transports. Michael climbed into the motorhome and found it already crowded with frightened people, each of them clutching the few personal belongings they’d managed to grab hold of in the sudden confusion. In the front seats Donna had taken his usual position behind the wheel.

  Emma was sitting next to her.

  ‘You two okay?’ he asked, leaning into the front cabin.

  ‘Just great,’ Donna answered through teeth clenched together with nervous anticipation. She gripped the steering wheel tightly in readiness should they suddenly need to move. Emma looked up and flashed him a momentary smile.

  ‘We’re okay,’ she said quietly. ‘Are you going to…?’

  ‘I’m going back to the others,’ he said quickly. ‘There are enough people in here already. Listen, Donna, if anything happens you just put your foot down on the fucking accelerator and get out of here.’

  ‘Be careful,’ Emma pleaded. ‘Look, why can’t you stay…?’ she began to say but he had already gone.

  There was clearly no more room in the motorhome -

  because of its more comfortable and open design many of the survivors had gravitated towards it rather than shutting themselves away in the insides of the more secure but claustrophobic prison truck. Michael found, however, that the prison truck (with Steve Armitage ready as ever behind the wheel) was also virtually full. Cooper called him over to the police van.

  ‘There are only a couple in the back here,’ he said, gesturing over his shoulder towards the back of the van.

  ‘Just make sure that either you or I get behind the wheel if we need to make a move, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Breathless and red faced, Bernard Heath appeared from around the back of the van.

  ‘I’ve done a quick count of heads,’ he wheezed. ‘I think everyone’s accounted for.’

  Cooper nodded and then stood and watched and waited.

  Outside the base a wide swathe of land had been cleared.

  The majority of the soldiers and machines had now been formed into long attacking lines, ready to sweep out across the land from the bunker entrance and destroy more of the bodies. Now that the jeeps had been positioned over all but one of the vents, the main objective of the excursion had been achieved. What was happening now was largely unplanned but still relatively well coordinated. From positions just behind the advancing troops heavy artillery fired over their heads and out into the distance, relentlessly pounding the land and cutting deep into the shadowy crowds, destroying countless scores of bodies. All around momentary bursts of brilliant yellow, orange and white light pierced the monochrome gloom and, like camera flashes, illuminated the grotesque hordes for a fraction of a second at a time. Deafening explosions shook the ground and rumbled through the early evening air. The troops moved steadily forward away from the entrance to the base.

  Progress continued to be relatively quick and largely unimpeded.

  The attacking line of ground troops fanned out as they moved away from the bunker, pushing the crowds back.

  There remained a bloody and relatively constant gulf of several metres between the advancing soldiers and the dead. Ignorant to the danger that they faced, those creatures which had so far escaped the wrath of the military continued to move ever closer, dragging themselves over the putrefying remains of the thousands of corpses that had been destroyed before them.

  ‘Aim for their heads,’ a sergeant yelled as his troops unleashed another furious volley of bullets and flame into the seething mass of cadavers. Undeterred, the bodies continued to shuffle and trip forwards.

  A short distance further down the military line, a soldier named Ellis stood up to his ankles in blood and rancid flesh and picked out individual corpses from the crowd up ahead.

  With the skill and concentration of a highly trained marksman he managed to shut off from the mayhem and confusion all around him and aimed at each body in turn, shooting them in the head and obliterating what remained of their brains. They dropped twitching to the ground and were immediately trampled by more dark figures advancing from behind. Conditions were becoming steadily worse with smoke, flame and rain all making it impossible to see clearly through the fading light of a dull and stormy dusk.

  To Ellis’ left and to his right his colleagues continued to fight alongside him, each of them destroying as many bodies as they could. But still the crazed creatures continued to advance. For every one that Ellis destroyed, ten more seemed to take its place. And beyond there remained thousands more. Out of view still more and more and more of them crawled through the darkness.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ the soldier to the immediate right of Ellis cursed. ‘I can’t keep up with this. Christ, how many of these fucking things are there?’

  They continued to shoot and the bodies continued to advance, spilling ever forward like some dark, thick liquid.

  Ellis didn’t have time to think or speak, instead he concentrated on letting bullet after bullet fly into the rotting crowd. An unexpected arc of flame burnt through the air just ahead of him, illuminating the full horror of the scene for a few heart-stopping seconds. The twisted, grotesque faces of hundreds of corpses were suddenly exposed and Ellis found himself staring at them in disgust and revulsion, praying for the light to fade and the dark to return. The nearest corpses were less than ten metres ahead.

  The ragged line of soldiers, still advancing steadily, reached a slight ditch where a meandering stream had once run diagonally across the battlefield but which had, over the course of the last few weeks, become clogged and filled with a compacted layer of rotting human remains. The trooper on Ellis’ right, fighting to keep concentrating and not lose control of his frayed nerves, stumbled and slipped on the uneven ground, ending up on his hands and knees in the middle of the stagnant trench. A powerful wave of gut-wrenching nausea swept over him as he looked down into a mire of the mashed and mangled remains of decayed faces, limbs and other body parts, all instantly recognisable as such. As he pushed himself back up and tripped and stumbled further towards the approaching bodies, bile began to rise in his throat and he started to salivate. He knew that he was going to vomit, but he also knew that he had to stop himself from doing so at all costs - he couldn’t take off his facemask. He turned back to face his advancing colleagues and another searing jet of fire lit up the stormy sky above him. Less than a second later a shell dropped short of its intended target and landed just metres away, exploding instantly and showering the troops with mud, shrapnel and putrefied flesh. Knocked to the ground again, the trooper panicked and scrambled back away from the front line. He was aware of a sudden stabbing, burning pain in his back, but his sickening fear and disorientation kept him moving. Once up on his feet again he reached over his shoulder and rubbed at the part of his neck and right shoulder which hurt the most. He could feel a small, jagged shard of metal whi
ch had ripped through his suit and pierced his skin. When he brought his hand back around he saw that it was covered in blood, and it was the sight of the blood on his glove which terrified him more than anything else. His suit had been compromised. Panicking, he lifted his weapon and turned back around. At first the adrenaline numbed the pain and kept him fighting.

  Aware of a gap in the attacking line to his side, Ellis turned around. The wounded soldier next to him continued to fire into the swarming bodies until the infection caught him. As he emptied another round into the crowd the inside of his throat began to swell. In seconds the swellings blocked his windpipe and then began to split and bleed.

  Knowing he was dying, but not sure how or why, the soldier slowly turned on the spot, as if silently looking around for help or explanations. Frozen in position by a spontaneous nervous reaction, his finger remained on the trigger of his rifle, sending a seemingly endless torrent of bullets flying through the air. Ellis was the first to fall to the ground, shot through the neck. Another six men and women immediately around him were felled in seconds.

  Ellis saw one of them drop just metres from him.

  The sounds of battle were muffled and silenced down on the ground. Weighed down by his breathing apparatus and other equipment, Ellis managed to roll over onto his back in the mud. He looked up into the cloudy sky above his head and waited. The heavy rain clattered down on his facemask, drowning out all other noise. He was aware of sudden, frantic movement and then utter darkness.

  The last thing Ellis remembered was feeling the crowd of emaciated bodies smothering him as they crawled over him and marched on towards the base.

  ‘Listen,’ Cooper said as he stood by the transports next to Michael and Heath.

  ‘What?’ Heath stammered nervously.

  ‘Something’s happening.’

  The men stood in silence and listened to the sounds which echoed around them.

  ‘What?’ Heath asked again.

  ‘Can’t you hear it?’ Cooper whispered.