“Hold it right there!” said a giant of a man with military insignia tattooed on his arms. “This is how it’s going to work. Ten at a time.” He pointed towards ten guards spread across the road. “Everyone will be frisked. Nobody leaves here with anything but the clothes on their backs. No weapons, no food, those were the orders. Now pass that down the line. First ten, you’re up.”
Talikha’s stomach began to churn. This was really it. They were leaving Safe Haven forever. This time it was Humphrey who brushed up against her leg as if trying to take some of the weight of her sadness. She crouched a little as she walked to ruffle the soft fur on his neck.
“Arms and legs spread like you’re about to do a star jump,” shouted a woman from the side of the road. There were another six guards with weapons raised ready, waiting for any sign of trouble.
Jake began to cry. “It is alright,” Talikha reassured him, “just do as I do.” She assumed the position and closed her eyes as a tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed man with a red face frisked her. Nobody other than Raj had ever laid hands on her. She got a sense this man enjoyed the power immensely. She tried not to squirm as he moved his hands around her legs, up her thighs, across her buttocks, then over her back and between her breasts. It was the most degrading thing she had ever experienced, but she had been bestowed with a task and she had to carry it out whatever the cost to herself. “Nice ass,” he said, slapping her on the rear. “Next!”
That was it. The humiliation was over for now. The first ten were done, and it was on to the next. Everyone was checked; men, women, children, dogs. As distasteful as she found the experience, as much as she hated these people, yes, hated, a word she rarely had a need to use, she could not deny their organisational skills. But then again, that was not something necessarily to be admired. The Nazis had excellent organisational skills, she certainly didn’t admire them. The way the Turks carried out the systematic genocides of the Greeks, Assyrians and Armenians required phenomenal organisational abilities and she had not one iota of admiration for them either. It was difficult to find anything positive about monsters inhabiting human flesh, for these people were certainly that and more.
“Where now?” Ryan asked as Sammy slipped her hand back into Talikha’s.
Talikha looked up at the sky. Darkness would not be long in coming. “We still have a few miles to go.”
“Well, one way or another we’re going to find out if your friend Mike was right about this area being clear.”
✽ ✽ ✽
The radio hissed. “Troy, it’s Blaze, come in. Over.”
Troy unclipped the radio from his belt and hit the talk button. “This is Troy, go ahead. Over.”
“Troy, they’ve finally got their lazy, slow asses here. We’re processing them now. I’ll update you when it’s done. Over.”
“You be sure to do that, Blaze. Over and out.”
The sound of the radio made Angel reappear from the small office. She could tell by the smile on Troy’s face that the plan was all falling into place. “I’m guessing that’s good news?” she said, the animalistic rage from before forgotten.
Troy clipped the radio back onto his belt. He looked towards Emma, who was still cable-tied to the chair on the stage, then back towards the rest of the council. “It seems that our time together is coming to an end,” he announced with a bitter smile. They all looked at him; they all wanted to say so many things. They knew they were beaten, they knew they were going to die, but they would prefer a clean death – a bullet to the head, not what Hughes had suffered, not what they had threatened to do to Emma – so they all stayed silent and just hoped.
“Do you think we could keep this one a while longer?” Angel said, walking up behind Lucy and stroking her hair.
Troy looked towards Lucy then Angel. If he did not hold the supreme power he now possessed he knew Angel would not be interested in him, but thirty minutes before, when he had gone into the back office to talk to her, she made it clear how much she thought of him, in words and in deeds. “Sure. Why not?” he said with a smirk.
“Aww, hear that, shug? We’re going to get to spend some quality time together soon.”
Lucy did not show fear or dread, she kept her face stern. There were a thousand things she wanted to say to both of them but she couldn’t. They had proved they were willing to carry out their threats, and she would never risk Emma’s life. When the end finally came, she had one last card to play, she was sure she had etched and gouged enough of the plastic cable tie to snap it and at least try to throw a punch, grab a gun, something, anything, but that time hadn’t arrived yet.
Troy turned to the two guards. “Will you get that thing out of here?” he said, nodding towards the creature that had once been Hughes. “It’s stinking the place out. And can we get some of these lanterns on? It’s getting hard to see in here.”
The two men placed their rifles down. They turned on the solar lanterns that were positioned strategically all over the hall, picked the rotting creature up and carried it towards the door. “I really need to go to the toilet,” Jules said.
“You went earlier. You’re going to have to hold it. Won’t be too long now,” Troy replied.
“I’ve been holding it. Jesus, you’ve had us here all day. I’m busting. If you don’t want to be sloshing around in a lake of piss you really need to let me go.”
“Wait a minute. When my men are back, we’ll figure something out.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Mike and Wren had doubled back a few times. There were people everywhere, it was a miracle they hadn’t been spotted up until now, but they had the advantage of the home ground.
They had seen from the cemetery earlier that the pub car park was the main hive of activity and that was originally where they had been heading to unleash their bio-weapon, but then they had heard the broadcast and realised they were almost out of time. They had altered course and made their way straight to the village hall. They both crouched down behind the wall next to an old BT cabinet. From their position, they could see people on the main road, but in the grounds of the hall there was no one. The light had started to fade fast, beckoning another cool autumn night.
Suddenly, the double doors of the hall burst open, and a man backed out, struggling to carry what at first looked like a bulky, cumbersome sack. Another man came through carrying the other end; they followed the building around towards the rear car park.
“It looks like a body,” Wren said, squinting. When there was no response from Mike, she turned towards him to see a blank expression on his face. “Mike, what is it?” He turned to look at her, still unable to speak. Tears welled in his eyes. “Mike, you’re scaring me. What is it?”
When he spoke, it was in a broken whisper. “It’s Bruiser.”
“No. No, it can’t be,” Wren said, turning back to look at what the two men were carrying.
“Wren, it’s Bruiser.”
“How can you be sure?”
“The bracelet,” Mike replied, “it’s the one Sammy made for him for Christmas. He’s never taken it off.”
Wren was convinced Mike couldn’t be right. Bruiser was a member of the council. If he was dead, that meant… She squinted even harder and then she saw the multi-coloured bead bracelet. “Oh, no.” She began to sob too. They were too late, too late to save their families, and now they were trapped behind enemy lines.
Mike watched the two men for a few seconds more as they disappeared around the rear of the building; then the tears of sadness turned into something else. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm, and when Wren looked at him again his face was contorted into an image of raging hatred. He leapt over the wall and sprinted towards the men carrying his best friend’s corpse. Reaching over his shoulders, he withdrew the crisscrossed handles of the machetes and continued his lightning charge.
Wren was caught entirely unaware. She remained glued to the spot, stuck in a cinema seat while the most terrifying 3D horror film unfolded around her. A growl st
arted in the back of Wolf’s throat, sensing that things were only going to get worse from here.
Mike threw a glance to his left, beyond the entrance to the village hall car park and out to the road. There were at least five soldiers who had spotted him, but so unexpected were these events that they lost a few seconds before they began to respond. That was all Mike needed. He too vanished behind the single-storey community hall that had housed everything from town meetings to Christmas parties. The two men were still oblivious to his presence, but then one caught movement and immediately dropped the end of the creature he was carrying. He reached for his sidearm. At the same time, the other guard dropped the beast’s feet and began to turn.
Mike grunted as he flung one of the machetes. It whistled through the air, slicing the first man’s forehead, eye and cheek. He immediately fell to the ground, and Mike was on the second guard before he had the chance to turn around fully. He slashed at the side of his head, nearly decapitating him with the first blow. The man started to scream, but in the end it was merely a wheezing high-pitched gurgle that came out. He collapsed to the ground like his compatriot, but that was not enough for Mike. He brought the machete down over and over; blood-splattered then caked his face and clothes. He could taste it on his lips, and he began to scream. Not a frightened scream but a yawp. A final battle cry.
He reached back into his rucksack to retrieve the pump-action shotgun, and less than a second later the first of the men from the road came running around the corner with his weapon raised.
Mike was about to squeeze the trigger when the side of the man’s head exploded. He fell to the ground, but momentum carried him another few feet across the tarmac before he came to a stop. A split second later, a second man emerged, and the same thing happened to him.
Mike wondered if he was going mad. Was he imagining this? Was Fry about to come walking around the corner next, laughing his head off at the big joke he’d played?
Another soldier came to a running stop, but this time he didn’t turn towards Mike, he looked towards the trees opposite. The back of his head erupted, spewing bone, blood and brain tissue. Mike heard something other than his blood rushing. There was a soft pfft sound. He had heard that before, the familiar sound of a silenced rifle. He heard two more muffled shots and then nothing. He just stood there, waiting. The blood continued to drip down his face, trickling over his lips and off his chin. Finally, a figure emerged from the trees. It was Barnes. He looked towards Mike then shouldered his rifle and ran across to where the bodies were strewn. He pulled the first one around the corner, out of sight from the main road, before Mike came to his senses and understood what was happening.
He placed the shotgun back in his rucksack, levered the other machete out of his victim’s head and ran across to help Barnes. “Looking good, Mike,” the soldier said under his breath.
Mike looked down at his blood-drenched clothes. “You saw that was Hughes?”
Barnes nodded sadly as he dragged another body around the corner. “I’ve been watching the place most of the day. These are the first two I’ve seen leaving in a while.” He tapped the radio on his belt. “I heard the broadcast this morning and came straight here. I knew it was going to be my last mission, but damn it if I wasn’t going to take a few of them out with me. I was waiting for the right time to cause maximum casualties. You kind of made me bring my plans forward.”
“We managed to get hold of one of their radios. Our people have reached North Ridge.”
“We?”
“Me and Wren.” Mike looked to where Wren was still crouched down and signalled for her to come out. A few seconds later, she sprinted across to join them with Wolf by her side, all the time looking towards the road to make sure it was clear. They dragged the final body out of sight then stood facing each other.
“So, do you have a plan?” Barnes asked.
“We did,” Mike said, taking the bottle of water from his backpack and giving his face a quick rinse. He turned towards Wren. “You need to go.”
“What? What are you talking about?” she demanded.
“Our plan is redundant. We were going to create utter mayhem as a cover so we could try to save our people.” He nodded towards Hughes’s body. “Our people are already dead. God knows what twisted games they’ve played before then, but they’re dead. You need to go. Go through the woods, head out past the East Ridge and go join Talikha and the rest of them in Torridon. They need someone like you.”
“And what about you?” Wren asked.
Mike and Barnes shared a knowing look. “We’re going to get a little payback before we call it a day.”
“What? No! Look, we’ve lost. We’re too late, but we can get out of here together, the three of us.”
“You are one of the most amazing people I have ever met. There’s nobody alive who I would rather have as a role model for Sammy and Jake. Now go.”
Wren watched as the two men walked around to the entrance of the village hall. Barnes leaned his rifle up against the wall; Mike pulled the shotgun from his rucksack. They paused for a second then charged.
chapter 24
Barnes and Mike were stunned by what they saw. They expected a room full of guards and a pile of bodies. They were going to start shooting and not stop until someone stopped them. Instead, there was one man with a radio in his hand, one woman who looked like she belonged on a shopping channel selling makeup and jewellery, and an almost full council bound to chairs around a rectangle of lantern-lit tables. The woman screamed, and the man standing behind Shaw immediately brought the radio up to his mouth and drew his sidearm. He was about to hit the talk button to issue orders when Shaw planted both feet firmly on the ground and lurched backwards on his chair, knocking the man off balance. They both crashed to the floor, and the pistol skidded towards the wall, clattering against the skirting board.
Realising there was no way Shaw could fight, Mike charged towards the tables and leapt up. Stride, stride, dive. The man was beginning to gather himself when the shoulder of the human cannonball made contact with his ribcage. There was a sound like thick twigs snapping, and the man let out an almost deafening cry of pain as Barnes ran to join them. Backup, just in case.
“Troy!” the woman screamed.
Troy collapsed back to the ground; the radio flew from his hands and skidded across the floor. Mike had not even thought about landing, only inflicting maximum damage on his target. He rolled and skidded until he eventually came to a stop. As he climbed to his feet, he saw the shopping channel woman start to run to the door.
“Like hell!” Lucy shouted, straining hard against the weakened cable tie and breaking through the plastic. She sprang to her feet, and before the woman could get anywhere near the exit, Lucy had grabbed her and thrown her hard against the wall. “This is for John.” Whack! A loud crack and Angel’s nose disintegrated beneath Lucy’s knuckles.
“No, please. Not my face.”
“This is for Hughes.” Crunch!
“Aaarrgghh!” One of her front teeth broke, sliding over her already bloody lip onto the ground. “Nooo,” she began to cry hysterically.
“This is for all our other friends that you murdered today.” Smash! Smash! Smash! Thud! Angel slumped down to the ground, her fingers reading her broken face like braille, her baying cries sweet music to Lucy’s ears. “Well, what do you know? The Angel has fallen.”
“Please no more. Please no more,” she begged.
The picture of Hughes being injected then turning into one of those things flashed in Lucy’s head, and she booted Angel hard in the stomach, winding her and making her cry out in agony once more. The other council members watched on in disbelief. This was not like Lucy.
While so much attention was focussed on the two women, Troy launched himself towards the radio, sliding across the floor on his side, minimising the pressure on his cracked ribs. Mike, although as surprised as anyone by Lucy’s actions, was waiting for the next move, and as Troy’s hand reached out for th
e handset, Mike grabbed one of the machetes from his rucksack and brought it down like Thor’s hammer.
The room fell silent until, “Aaarrrggghhh!” Troy brought his arm up. He had witnessed it but still could not believe it. Blood sprayed like a fountain into the air where his hand had been.
Barnes stooped down, picked up the radio and stepped back, desperate to avoid getting the pooling blood on his boots. The internal doors to the village hall burst open with a clatter and every pair of eyes turned towards them.
✽ ✽ ✽
Darkness was getting closer by the minute. Richard did not know how long he had been sitting on the edge of the cliff, he was lost in his thoughts, in his sadness. He had never felt so alone in his life, and as he looked down to the rocks and the waters below, they seemed more inviting than ever. He had lost the people in the world who had meant the most to him, and now he had a choice.
He could start again with Talikha and the rest of them or he could end his suffering. He stood up and took off his jacket, folding it and placing it neatly on the floor beside him. No point causing unnecessary wind resistance with that extra flapping material.
One, two, three. He closed his eyes.
✽ ✽ ✽
Talikha did not know how many people had already been processed, but they were all on the move again. There was not enough room for several hundred men, women and children to amble around while the others got searched. She kept looking back to make sure there was a steady line following.
“Don’t worry,” Ryan said, “it’s not like they can get lost. This isn’t Spaghetti Junction, it’s one road.”
“No, of course not,” Talikha replied with a smile.
Safe Haven (Book 6): Is This The End of Everything? Page 20
