Extinct

by RR Haywood

  Their eyes sting and water, blurring their vision. Their throats hurt from the fumes, smoke and chemicals in the air, and visibility reduces to just feet in front, but still the rounds whizz past them and still the Germans fire.

  Alpha and Kate run in the same way too. They all do. Echo, Bravo, Charlie and Delta, all with eyes watering, throats hurting, coughing and clambering over ruined buildings to get away. They can’t see each other or anything other than the ground immediately in front of them.

  Harry pushes them on, roaring at them to keep going, driving his unit forward, shooting a hand out to launch Konrad over a pile of bricks, then reaching back to do the same to Miri. An explosion somewhere near. A brick sails through the air, whacking into his side, but the big man doesn’t flinch and carries on. A shadow on his left. Someone looming through the smoke. A figure dressed in modern black tactical combat clothes that Harry recognises from Cavendish Manor.

  Charlie spots Harry too, the big man’s face a mask of determination, and the agent swivels to aim his pistol. Harry glances at the pistol, then up to Charlie’s eyes. The agent has the drop on him, has drawn faster and can now kill him, but Charlie doesn’t fire. Delta runs in from his side, to see Charlie aiming at Harry, who simply turns his head and powers on to drive his team down the street, and when Harry glances back the two agents are gone from sight.

  The German soldiers advance quickly, running after them with that sustained firing sending rounds flying past their heads. Safa lurches, a bullet grazing her left arm, but Emily is there, pulling her on, then screaming out when a bullet whispers past her leg drawing blood and giving immediate pain.

  They’re hit by splinters, by bricks and masonry. Cutting, bruising and hurting, but still they run with no idea where the end of the street is. It seems to take forever, every second now a minute, every minute feeling like an hour and then they break through to sweet clear air that they suck down, and suddenly the view ahead is open and they can run faster, sprinting into another road and down a side street. Charlie and Delta break free next, punching out from the cloying smoke and catching sight of the backs of Miri’s team aiming for a side street and they go after them.

  Alpha and Kate get through, but on the far side of the junction, and whereas the others before them went right, so they go left. Footsteps behind them. Alpha snatches a glance to see Echo running flat out to catch them up.

  Bravo comes out last, his face streaked with grime, his eyes red. He looks left, then he looks right. Two paths to follow.

  He makes his choice and sets off.

  Thirty

  Bertie’s Island

  ‘Dressings, morphine . . . sutures,’ the doctor murmurs to himself, pottering about in his army-green medical tent pitched just outside the clearing near the shack. Birds singing in the air. The waves lapping the shore and a slight breeze whispering through the treetops.

  In the shack, Bertie works at his desk, absorbed entirely in his own world and not seeing the single smouldering brick sailing out of the portal that flies out the open door to land outside. He doesn’t notice the plumes of dust that come just after it as building number twenty-five collapses. After a few more seconds he coughs from the fumes hitting his throat, but still carries on working. Even when the smoke drifts in front of his eyes he carries on working and it’s not until he coughs harder and finally turns round that he sees the shack full of thick black smoke billowing through the portal.

  ‘MALCOLM AND DOCTOR JOHN WATSON!’ he shouts out, hopping from foot to foot in front of the portal then grabs a glass of water from his desk and throws the glass through the portal. ‘MALCOLM AND DOCTOR JOHN WATSON!’

  ‘What!?’ the doctor tuts and strides out to see the ground in front of the shack littered with smouldering bricks and chunks of masonry. ‘What the . . .’

  ‘Oh shit.’ Malcolm spins from the shoreline, ditching his fishing rod to run into the clearing. ‘BERTIE! Get out, get out!’

  They rush in towards the shack, fearing the thing to be on fire, to see Bertie dancing in panic in front of the portal through which the smoke comes thick and fast.

  ‘Oh blimey,’ Malcolm says.

  ‘I think there’s a fire,’ Bertie says.

  ‘What do we do?’ the doctor asks.

  ‘I don’t bloody know!’ Malcolm says. ‘We can’t switch it off . . .’

  ‘Bugger, bugger and bugger,’ the doctor says. ‘Have a look through it, Malc.’

  ‘Me? Why me?’

  ‘I’m the doctor. I’m essential staff . . .’

  ‘You cheeky sod,’ Malcolm says, edging closer to the portal. ‘Cor, that stinks.’ He wafts the air, trying to keep it clear of his face, then sucks a breath and bends forward through the portal, feeling instantly dizzy at the drop in front of him and the snatched view of the house in ruins beneath him. ‘Switch it off!’ he yelps, pulling back into the shack. ‘The house is gone.’

  ‘What house?’ the doctor asks.

  ‘The house, the place they went in . . .’

  The doctor shakes his head in confusion and edges closer to lean in, instantly feeling the heat of the fires below and the smoke hitting his face, which makes his eyes water, but he risks a longer look, seeing German soldiers through the murky air running down a street while more stand and point up at him. Noise everywhere, planes overhead, fires burning but no sign of Miri or anyone else.

  Someone shouts in German, screaming words out that the doctor doesn’t understand and watches in confusion as several soldiers suddenly aim up at the blue portal and start firing.

  ‘TURN IT OFF!’ He pulls his upper body back into the shack, dropping quickly as bullets whizz through into the ceiling above them. ‘OFF! BERTIE, turn the blasted thing off . . .’

  Bertie grabs the controller, swiping the screen to kill the connection, and the portal winks out as Malcolm and the doctor stare at each other in horror.

  Thirty-One

  Berlin, 1945

  Alpha runs on with Kate and Echo at his side, weaving through the mounds of rubble and skirting the edges of monstrous fires eating their way through the city. Smoke billows into their eyes, choking and stinging.

  The air raid intensifies as they run through clouds of dust and smoke. Huge piles of rubble dotted with broken bodies speak of the carnage and that sight repeats in every direction they face. Burnt-out and bomb-damaged civilian and military vehicles lie amongst the skeletal buildings and blocked roadways.

  With everyone hiding in bunkers and shelters they see very few people as they go. Some remain, still scrabbling in the broken ruins as they dig for loved ones, others walk shell-shocked and slack-jawed. Two small children cower underneath a fire-damaged truck bearing a virtually untouched swastika.

  ‘Did you see the others?’ Alpha asks Echo, speaking in German.

  ‘Negative. Only just saw you when I got through the smoke.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Kate whispers.

  ‘We don’t know where the others are,’ Alpha says. ‘We’ll try down there . . .’ He guides them towards the mouth of a side street in the hope of finding a basement or shelter in which to take cover.

  The explosion behind blows them off their feet. A solid whoomph of bombs hitting buildings in the side street they almost went down. Flame scorches up. Debris flies out and the ground heaves as the air pressure around them changes with blasts of supercharged wind rushing past.

  ‘Get up,’ Alpha tries shouting, but he can’t hear his own voice, only the roar of everything else. He grips Kate’s shoulders, pulling her up while above them the bombers keep coming and the bombs keep falling. ‘WE’VE GOT TO FIND COVER.’ He screams the words out with his mouth next to her ear while Echo picks himself up to look back at the street now in ruins.

  They run on for no other reason than they have to keep going and gain distance. Streets go by. Fires and noise, bombs and destruction. Bodies everywhere. Old dead from days ago and new ones broken and killed from this bombing raid. The sheer scale is beyond e
pic. This is destruction of a city street by street and Alpha knows these people have got the worse to come when the Red Army sweeps through bringing rape and murder in brutal revenge.

  Alpha feels Kate’s hand pulling on his and twists back to see her pointing down a crossroads to a large above-ground shelter built with a circular construction designed to deflect bomb damage.

  ‘Shelter,’ he shouts to Echo in German, who nods once, his face thick with grime and blood coming from his right ear from a burst drum. Pain everywhere. Lacerations, cuts and bruises all over his body, but he follows after them, knowing they have to find cover from the air raid and hoping the bombers will have instruction not to aim for the public shelters.

  They spot the soldiers outside, urging stragglers to run faster. Old men and young boys in uniform. Women with armbands shouting and pushing people through the door. Alpha squeezes Kate’s hand, making her look at him while he presses a finger to his mouth, signalling for her not to talk.

  ‘HURRY,’ a woman says in German as she runs out towards them, not noticing Kate’s modern clothes in the dust and filth now covering them both. ‘GET IN GET IN . . .’

  ‘THANK YOU,’ Alpha shouts back in German as he ushers Kate through the door to a packed interior and the wall of smell of unwashed bodies and the sound of children screaming in fear, of women sobbing, of people coughing from the dust and particles in the air, of people in pain from broken bones, lacerations and even a leg taken off at the knee that Alpha and Echo barely glance at as they flank Kate. They pass through the solid brick rooms, seeing faces staring up at the sky as though seeing the bombers through the walls. A quiet corner, a dark corner. The two agents guide Kate over, staying with her and helping her lower down to rest her back against the wall. Alpha remains close, wrapping his arm round her shoulders as she pushes into him, burying her head in his form while Echo sits down on her other side.

  ‘Injuries? Injuries?’ An old man walks slowly through, shining a torch into the sections. ‘Any injuries?’

  ‘No,’ Alpha says.

  ‘Just got in?’ the man asks, shining the torch in Alpha and Echo’s faces, making them turn away and hold hands up to shield their eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ Echo says quietly.

  ‘Bad, is it?’ the man asks.

  ‘Very bad,’ Echo says hoarsely.

  The old man totters off, calling as he goes.

  ‘Where you from, friend?’

  Alpha curses inwardly at the male voice directing a question at him. He squints round, seeing another old man looking over.

  ‘Otto, leave them alone.’ An old woman next to him slaps at his arm.

  ‘What? I was just asking a question.’

  ‘There’s an air raid on, you stupid old man. People don’t want to chat with you.’

  ‘Air raid,’ the old man snorts. ‘It’ll get worse, you mark my words. By Affa, it will get worse.’

  ‘Stop saying Affa. It’s a British thing. We don’t use it now, Otto. How many times do I have to tell you?’

  ‘I’ve always said by Affa and I will always say by Affa . . . Affa wasn’t British anyway. German, he was! Went over there to sort the English Romans out, he did . . .’

  Alpha and Echo listen, sharing a look and a wry smile as Kate looks up at Alpha quizzically. She leans forward, pushing her mouth against his ear. ‘Are they talking about you?’

  ‘Shush,’ he says quietly, turning to look at her. She smiles in the gloom, her face smeared in dirt and grime, her hair plastered down over her scalp, and never before has he seen someone more beautiful than at that second. His lips find hers, just a gentle kiss given in the chaos of the moment, but her hand moves up to cover his and they stay together with lips pressed and eyes closed as the building shakes from the bombs.

  ‘You used to kiss me like that, Otto.’

  ‘If you looked like her I’d do more than kiss you— Ow!’

  Kate pulls back, looking round at the people in the room chuckling and the old man rubbing his arm.

  ‘He said he’d kiss her if she looked like you,’ Alpha whispers in her ear. She smiles softly, her eyes held on his.

  The air raid passes, but the sirens keep on as the two agents deny the urge to leave now for fear of standing out. This is a city on high alert and people are wary of strangers.

  The all-clear is eventually given, which stirs the occupants of the shelter to grumble and groan as they find their feet and start filing towards the exit. Alpha and Echo once again flank Kate and join the lines, trudging small steps in an oppressed, terrified atmosphere. Plans form in Alpha’s mind, where to go, how to survive, priorities and objectives. Kate needs a change of clothing and something warmer to wear. They need water and food, they need to find Miri and the others. Will Miri have a way out if her portal was negated? Do they have someone else in their base to reset and find them?

  They get closer to the door, Alpha and Echo with heads down appearing as scared and confused as everyone else, forced into single file as they move towards the cold bright daylight and a street filled with smoke from fresh fires and such is the press of bodies that all they can do is move with the crowd until they get through the doorway.

  A commotion ahead. Alpha scans about, trying to see what’s going on. His arms stretch behind him holding Kate’s hands while Echo moves in close behind her.

  ‘MOVE ASIDE . . .’ A deep male voice shouts the order, forcing a ripple that spreads through the people in front of Alpha, who looks for an escape route but finds none. Such is the press on all sides.

  Space opens in front of him and Alpha glances up to see a grey-uniformed German officer pushing towards him. ‘THEM . . . THAT’S THEM . . .’ a woman shouts, a voice that Alpha recognises and his mind matches the voice to the woman with the Nazi armband in the street when he met Miri, Ben and Emily. He spots her a second later, seeing her ruddy cheeks and the look of spite in her eyes as she points at Alpha. ‘HIM . . . SAID HE WAS A CAPTAIN OF THE FIRST INFANTRY . . .’

  ‘Halt,’ the German officer commands, aiming a Luger at Alpha as Echo moves out a step.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Alpha asks, looking round in confusion.

  Echo spots the soldiers closing in through the crowd, mean-eyed, hard-looking and definitely not the young boys and old men they saw before. This is a fighting unit.

  ‘Who are you?’ the German officer demands.

  ‘I’m Captain Schmidt . . .’ Alpha replies with a blanch. ‘What’s going on? Has the raid passed? I’ll need to get to my unit . . .’

  ‘HANDS AWAY FROM YOUR BODY,’ the officer shouts, seeing Alpha’s hand moving towards his coat pocket.

  Echo moves out another step towards a soldier aiming a sub-machine gun at Alpha.

  ‘I have my papers,’ Alpha says with disdain. ‘What’s this about?’

  ‘I keep seeing him around,’ the woman says. ‘He’s not right . . . I’m telling you he’s not right . . .’

  ‘Sir.’ A soldier rushes in towards the officer, brushing past Echo. ‘Report from Bundesstraβe 2, sir. They had enemy contact and a blue light shining from the one of the buildings lighting a path for the bombers . . . Said the enemy were in civilian clothing, sir.’

  ‘Spies!’ the woman with the armband shouts, glaring at Alpha.

  ‘Fool!’ Alpha snaps. ‘I’m no spy. I have family in Bundesstraβe 2, as you well know. Check my papers. Inside left pocket . . .’ He unbuttons his overcoat and pulls the left side out away from his body while walking towards the officer with a solid Aryan sneer as Kate scans for threat and risk and while Echo waits for the move.

  Alpha’s fast. Very fast. Faster than even Kate thought he would be. The officer reaches in towards Alpha’s inside coat pocket as Alpha rolls his eyes, tuts, then strikes out, slamming the edge of his hand into the officer’s wrist holding the Luger, dislodging his grip enough to pluck the weapon away, turn and fire it into the man’s head, sending a shower of blood over the woman in the Nazi armband, who screams at the hot liquid spatt
ering her face. Echo goes fast too, aiming at the closest soldier and stamping a foot into the side of his knee to make him drop and turn, snatching the sub-machine gun from his hands as he falls. He flips the weapon round and opens fire to send rounds into the soldier on the ground as the crowd around them scream and run in all directions.

  Kate watches Alpha, seeing the hand change as he passes the Luger to his left and draws his modern pistol from his pocket with his right and knows that’s a hard thing to do. To operate two pistols at the same time. He does it with skill though, spinning on the spot to pick his targets as Echo fires the sub-machine gun. She spots the closest dead soldiers, noting the positions of their weapons and preparing herself to run and grab one if the situation worsens.

  ‘Run . . .’ Alpha stays calm, he and Echo striding back to Kate and using their bodies to shield her as they start running down the street. She saw Alpha kill seven soldiers. Seven within a few seconds and while showing abject fear on the outside she gives respect internally for a very high standard of skill, but then he is Alpha.

  Shots behind them from more soldiers running into the fray. Machine guns opening up and ricocheting bullets pinging off walls.

  ‘Go,’ Echo says, dropping to a knee to return fire.

  Alpha and Kate run on, aiming for the mouth of a side street so Alpha can give covering fire for Echo.

  ‘Now!’ Alpha shouts, firing his pistol at the soldiers as Echo starts running backwards. The sub-machine gun clicks empty; he ditches it fast to pull his pistol, aiming for shots into the German soldiers. ‘NOW, ECHO!’ Alpha shouts. Echo turns on the move, running fast for the junction as a round slams into his shoulder, sending him staggering off to the side. ‘ECHO!’ Alpha screams out.

  Echo rights himself, grimacing as he turns to shoot back, but another round strikes his chest, then one through his stomach and he falls backwards onto his arse with a stunned look on his face. ‘Oh shit . . .’ He glances at Alpha, who thinks to run out and drag Echo away, but the soldiers are advancing, pushing ahead with more firepower and another round hits Echo, slamming him down onto his back to writhe in agony.