Straddling gave Lewis a hard stare as he contemplated. Finally, he nodded. “Yes, I totally agree. Those devils move fast. They could be here anytime. We need to leave before it’s too late.”
Lewis opened his mouth to speak but Straddling had not finished.
“And if there was ever a reason to go back to the GVF labs I’d say this is it.”
Lewis found Denny at the medical centre. He was buzzing around all the patients looking concerned. Lewis took him by the elbow and led him outside.
“I need a word, now.” When they were a few metres away Lewis turned and confronted him. “There’s no easy way to say this. We have got to get out of here as soon as possible. We killed a couple of vampires and left behind a few more that are pretty pissed off. I have no doubt they’ll be on their way here soon. We’ve got to go.”
“What are you talking about?” Denny was shaking his head vehemently. “Where would we go?”
“You know exactly where – back to GVF.”
“That’s insane. You said yourself, it’s riddled with the Great Impure.”
“We’d stand a better chance there than we do against the vampires here. At least we know how the infected behave. As far as we’re aware they’re not intelligent or organized. We can hear them coming and we can defend against them. None of which can be said for the vampires.”
“Thomas, you’re delusional,” Denny had a pitiful look on his face, as though he was talking to a simple-minded patient. “That’s just suicide. We’re better off defending ourselves here. This is our home. We know it better than anyone. This is where we belong. If you think I’m ever going to leave this base, then you’re wildly mistaken.”
“Well so be it Tristan. We all have to take responsibility for our individual actions and if you really don’t want to leave then I’m going to have to wish you the very best of luck. I have to go back. I have to at least try and finish what we started and I’ll be taking anyone that wants to come with me. I’m not staying here, and if you do then I’m sorry but you’re gonna die.”
As the doctors were still administering aid to the many who needed it, Lewis thought it would be easier to address everybody in the medical centre, and it was safer to keep them all together. For those who did not already know, he quickly outlined what had occurred on the rescue mission and the deaths of Scovell and Pethard. He was met by a wall of impassive faces. Every single one of them was emotionally drained. Tears and sadness were fast becoming replaced by a fatalistic acceptance of death. Quite clearly it seemed that they were all just a matter of hours or, at best, days away from dying themselves, so what was the point of lamenting those who no longer had to face the daily horrors of survival? Those who no longer had to fear every sound in the dark. Those who no longer had to witness every heart-breaking demise of a colleague or loved one. Were the dead not perhaps the lucky ones? They no longer had the responsibility of looking out for one another. No longer had the responsibility of hoping beyond wildest hope that they could somehow manufacture a cure for the sickness that infested the world. It was hard for Lewis to try and summon any enthusiasm, to attempt to drum up any morale amongst the troops, when all he himself wanted to do was to curl up and rest for a while, to just close his mind to everything and forget about it all; but try he must, nonetheless.
“We have previously discussed the pros and cons of returning to the GVF labs to try to create a cure. Well, that decision now seems to have been made for us. In our rescue mission today a couple of the vampires died. The others know where we live and may well be heading this way now to exact their revenge. Quite possibly we are all in extreme peril this very moment, even as I speak. So, I’ll be brief.
“Some of us are leaving for GVF within the hour. We believe that our prospect for survival in the labs is greater than that of defending ourselves against the vampires’ revenge. We know the diseased. We know how they act. We can see them coming. I think we can deal with them. We will secure the labs one section at a time and slowly make it habitable and safe. We’re going to take a Bedford, a couple of the Landies and some supplies. As you all know the lorries are prepped and ready to go at a moment’s notice anyway. We will live there and make it our new home, and hopefully we’ll be able to create an antidote to all this madness, some kind of cure for humanity.
“The other option is to remain here. Personally, having seen the vampires up close, I would not advise that course of action to anybody. They are smart, fast - really fast - and strong. You won’t know where they’ll be attacking from. When they come you’ll hardly have a moment to defend yourselves. You’ll have to be ready at all times, and if you hesitate to kill them even for a second, mark my words they will not afford you the same courtesy. Personally I don’t think you’ll stand a snowball’s chance in hell.
“Group Captain Denny has said that he will not be going to GVF. He thinks that it’s too dangerous and it’s safer here. He intends to stay to the bitter end. This is no longer a decision that I can make for you all. There is danger in both paths. You must weigh it up and decide for yourselves. Any that want to remain may do so, and Godspeed you all. The rest of us - be ready to go ASAP.”
A wave of confusion and uncertainty broke around the room. Until now decisions had been made for them as a cohesive unit. Now Lewis was abdicating responsibility and allowing them all to do whatever they wanted, something that had been so important to avoid before. Either option could very well lead to their deaths so it was imperative for everybody to decide their own fate.
Corporal Bannister walked slowly back through the mess. His brain was numb and he found it hard to focus. He had listened vaguely to Lewis’s words and knew he had to make a decision but was finding it hard to care right now. All he could think about was Millington and how he had betrayed him. The last couple of days before Millington had died he had hardly spoken to his friend - his best friend. He had been irritable and tried to avoid him. He knew that there had been a pretty good reason, in that he had been under the vampiress’s spell, but that did nothing to assuage his guilt. The decision to leave Headley Court, or not, would have been one they would have discussed and taken together. ‘Till death do us part’ had always been their moto. In reality it had been Bannister himself who had brought about Millington’s demise. Death had claimed Millington and he had given it a helping hand.
He paused outside Millington’s room, touching the door lightly. He knew precisely how it looked inside, as nobody had entered it since that ill-fated night. He knew exactly where Millington’s things were; how tight the hospital corners were that he had insisted on even at the last, where the boot polish was stored, of which he was so proud, where his small stash of alcohol was kept. Bannister had spent many evenings with him in that room, putting the world to rights.
“I’m so sorry mate,” he whispered.
There was a sound from the far end of the corridor. Wood was moving in his direction. Bannister scowled at him, probably the last person he wanted to see at that moment. He wiped angrily at his eyes with the back of his hand and quickly entered his own room, closing the door firmly behind. For a moment he stood leaning against the door, gasping for breath and trying to control his heart rate, then crossed to the sink. A jug was on the little shelf and he splashed some of the water onto his face. As he looked about for a towel he trod on something hard beneath the sink. It was the bottle top from the whiskey that he had drank with his friend, three days before his death, three days before his throat had been ripped out and his life-blood had ebbed away in Bannister’s arms. He could contain it no more. He collapsed back onto his bed, holding his head in his hands, weeping uncontrollably.
Wood padded softly along the corridor. They did not have much time. As he approached Bannister’s room he heard a strangled choking. He slowed but continued walking. There was much to do before they left for GVF. He heard the noise once again, unmistakably that of someone crying, the wretched wails of one in anguish. Wood took another step then stopped and sighed, rais
ing his eyes towards the heavens. It felt as though he did nothing more than help others these days and he was tired of it. The sound came again and gradually he turned.
Bannister did not answer the knock on his door. He did not react as it opened. His shoulders shook uncontrollably and he no longer cared who saw him like that. Even when Wood placed a gentle hand on his back he still did not look up. Wood had no words of comfort. There was nothing he could say. For a moment he stood in indecision as Bannister was consumed by his grief, then he knelt on the floor beside the crying soldier and wrapped his arms tightly around him. He did not say a word; he just knelt there, feeling Bannister shaking, empathising and sharing his grief, trying not to think too deeply about his own profound well of remorse. After a time the convulsions diminished, the sobs silenced and Bannister sat limply in his arms, not moving or speaking, the most unlikely of bonds at that moment. At last Wood hesitantly got to his feet but Bannister still did not look at him. It was only as Wood was leaving, when he turned to speak, that Bannister finally looked him in the eye.
“Everyone liked Millington,” Wood said softly. “I’m so sorry for your loss. He was a decent guy and a great soldier.”
“He was my friend,” Bannister replied blankly. “He was my best friend.”
Wood nodded. “It was a loss for us all. Everyone misses him.” After a pause he continued. “Look, you’re reliable under pressure and you don’t lose your head. We need every experienced soldier we can get right now. Lord knows there are few enough of us left, few enough that I’d trust to cover my back, but you’d definitely be one of them. I’m sorry if I was a little… harsh earlier. You’re a good man. That’s all I wanted to say really…”
Lewis was talking to Singleton and Dr Handley when Corporal Charlotte Collins entered the medical section. She hesitated at the door whilst they spoke. There was a moaning from one of the rear rooms.
“How’s Darby?” Lewis asked.
“We’re keeping him sedated and so far he’s not giving us any trouble. Whenever it seems as if he is coming round we just dose him up again. It’s not ideal. I certainly wouldn’t do this to a normal patient but needs must when the devil drives.”
“So we can keep him sedated on the trip to GVF. I guess that shouldn’t cause any problems. And how is she?” Lewis indicated the rear room which Vida occupied. Until recently it had been Bennett’s room, but he now sat on a chair drinking a glass of liquid slowly through a straw, looking much better. He had recovered well once they had got some fluids into him and was now fully conscious and lucid.
Singleton glanced at the room. Masters sat on a chair beside Vida, holding her hand, staring forlornly into space. He had not moved from her side since they had got back to base.
“Not so good,” she murmured. “She’s lost a lot of blood…”
“And?” Clearly that was not the whole story.
“Well, she’s feverish and her skin has turned rather grey. Her temperature is absolutely sky high. Last time I checked it was one hundred and five but it keeps on changing. We’ve got her on some drugs to control it, and a drip. Newman and Williams are trying to cool her a bit with wet flannels but that’s about all we can do for now. And she’s shaking, really violently. We’ve had to strap her down, else she’d fall off the bed.” Singleton looked seriously worried and there were no words of comfort that Lewis could conjure up.
Just then Corporal Newman called out. “One hundred and two and dropping.”
“Well that’s good news, isn’t it?” Lewis asked hopefully.
Singleton shrugged. “It’s been doing that ever since she got here, rocketing up then plummeting. It’s doing it of its own accord. Nothing we’re doing is really having much of an effect. I’ve never seen anything like it, it’s really strange.”
Collins took this as her cue, fully entered the medical centre and cleared her throat. They all stared at her as if there was something truly bizarre about her appearance but nobody said anything.
“I wonder if I might be able to explain it,” she said slowly.
They waited. No one spoke so she continued.
“Sebastian, the vampire, told me about when he was ‘turned’, as he called it. He said it happens when a vampire’s blood mixes with the human’s own blood, like when they are bitten. He said when it happened to him he was unconscious for a while. He spoke of fever and nausea and aching all over his body. And he said when he finally woke up he was a vampire.”
Their faces were ashen. There was silence. Collins fidgeted uncomfortably with the bandage around her forehead.
Finally, Lewis turned to Singleton, still trying to digest the information. He should have thought of this before, but he had had way too many other things on his mind and this possibility had just not occurred to him. “Do you… do you think that’s likely? Do you think that’s what’s happening to Vida?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I really don’t know. This is beyond my experience. All I can tell you is that she is really sick and there’s not a damn thing I can do for her.”
“Do you know how long it took Sebastian to turn into a… a vampire?” he asked Collins.
“He didn’t know. He said it could have been hours or days. He was unconscious for much of it, and then he awoke as one of them.”
“That’s just great,” Handley cried out. “That’s all we need.”
“Well, we’ll just have to deal with it,” Lewis snapped. He had no time for people losing their focus just now. “We can’t worry about it at the moment. We have to get out of here pronto. We take her with us and we sort it out when we get to the labs.”
Masters had overheard the conversation. He looked earnestly at Vida and at the bite marks on her neck. He bent low and kissed her on the forehead with tears running down his cheeks. “You won’t turn into one of them babe. I won’t let you, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Collins arrived at Wood’s room and found him loading items quickly into a khaki duffle bag. He looked up with a smile when he saw her.
“How are you?” he asked with softness in his voice. He gently touched the scratches on her cheek and the bandage that had started to seep a little blood.
“Oh, you know,” she tried to force a smile. “A little weak from blood loss, confused, scared, tired – no make that exhausted. Same as everybody I guess. So…” she indicated the bag, “we’re going to the labs then?”
“Of course,” he seemed puzzled. “There’s really no alternative. Did you think we would stay here?”
“I suppose not, it’s just, well, it feels so final, so unknown and so terrifying.”
He stopped what he was doing and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Yes. It is scary. Believe me - you wouldn’t be normal if you weren’t afraid. But you saw those vampires. If those things come after us here, then we’ll be dead for sure. The perimeter wall won’t hold them out. They can attack whenever they like. It’d be nigh on impossible to defend against them. No, it’ll be dangerous going to the labs but at least we’ll stand a chance, albeit a small one. Here there’s none. None at all.”
She started to sob and he enfolded her into his arms.
“Shhh, hey look, we’ve already been to the labs once. It’s not unknown territory for us now. All we need to do is to take it slowly. Clear one section at a time and not open ourselves up to too much risk. We’ll be okay.”
“You really think that?” She looked up into his deep, brown eyes and wondered, not for the first time, how he could remain so calm. The scar on his cheek had almost vanished beneath the dark bruise and not insignificant swelling from the fight in the presbytery. He did not mention his own pain though. He never moaned, just got on with things, helping and protecting others. Even now she felt safe in his arms, although whether that would be the same once they got to the laboratories she was not so certain.
Despite having been told they had an hour to be ready to leave, everyone was assembled in a little under thirty minutes. The last to arrive were tho
se from the medical centre. Not only did they have to gather all their medical supplies but they also had the patients to account for. Bennett was now able to walk with the assistance of Corporal May Williams. His improvement was startling. Darby was out cold but nevertheless he still moaned and flinched periodically, as though the contamination in his blood was fighting the drugs in his veins. Under sedation his contorted features had fallen away a little, the muscles relaxing and one could almost believe he was his old, normal self again, were it not for the gathering purple hue to his skin and the red lines that were spreading slowly yet inexorably across his cheeks, reaching out like claws.
Expectant faces huddled together for safety in the dining room, the area that had become the unofficial meeting point. Collins noticed Denny to the side. He held his pistol tightly in one hand and standing with him were Flight Lieutenant Walkden, Sergeant Vallage, Corporal Bell, Leading Aircraftman Neale and Corporal Gillen. Clearly they had opted to remain with their Station Commander, to whatever ends they may meet. She cast a long look at the small group, studying their faces, trying to fix in her memory the colour of their eyes, every line of their features and every contour of their faces, lest she ever forget them. A small part of her wanted to remain at the base too. Indecision and inactivity were easier than striking out to somewhere new, but she was well aware that this was not the time to let fate take the reins.
She saw Lewis hurrying in looking tense and bothered. She watched as he exchanged an irritated word with Denny before turning from him, almost dismissively, and started speaking to Sergeant Straddling. Clearly he was under a lot of pressure. He had fully accepted the mantle of leadership and no longer deferred to Denny. They were already drawing apart, two separate military factions, each now concerned with their own welfare, no longer a contributing element in the other’s survival. As often was the case her thoughts turned to Cujo, what she would be doing with him now if he were still alive and how protected she had always felt with him by her side. She dismissed the thoughts instantly. This was not the time.
Twice Bitten, Twice Die (The Blood of the Infected Book 3) Page 12
