Lewis looked out the window at the approaching darkness. They had already taken longer than he would have liked. It was time to be gone. He barked a few orders and began to shepherd the troops out. Darby and Vida were loaded first into the back of the Bedford and secured in place. Obviously Masters travelled with them but Lewis also wanted Straddling, Bannister and Pellegrini providing an armed guard for them in case either patient started to awaken.
“If they so much as stir unexpectedly,” he had said to Straddling, “put a round between their eyes.”
“Yessir,” Straddling did not need to be told twice.
“And how much ammo have we got left?” Lewis asked.
“Not enough,” Straddling replied grimly. “We used an awful lot on that ‘rescue mission’ and we’re running pretty low now. If we’re gonna stand any hope of surviving at the labs we’ll need more.”
“So it’s back to the gun store then.”
“What about that other weapons shop you mentioned before?” Straddling asked. “We could try there?”
“Ahh, yes,” Lewis looked sheepish. “Actually I was lying about that, just trying to diffuse the situation. I’m afraid I don’t know of any other gun shop nearby.”
He expected his sergeant to be annoyed and he tensed in readiness but Straddling took the news in his stride and chuckled. “Well that’s a pity, but I guess that means there’s only one thing for it.” It really was like talking to a different person.
Denny and his troops came to the gates as the vehicles were about to leave. Everybody was brandishing weapons. No longer was Headley Court the safe haven where they could shelter from the outside world. Now the outside world could get at them, and really rather too easily.
“It’s not too late to come with us,” Lewis beseeched them. “Please,” he could feel himself welling up as he looked at the six soldiers who were remaining behind to meet their fate, “you can change your minds. You can still come. This is madness.”
The determination on Denny’s face was echoed in the others.
“Best of British, Thomas,” Denny held out his hand, ever the stoic. “May your god guide you.”
“And may I hopefully be wrong about the vampires coming here for revenge,” Lewis took his hand and held it firmly for a moment before turning and walking slowly to the front Land Rover.
There were farewells all round as the two groups of soldiers prepared to part company; for the last time. Their destinies were no longer dependent on each another. Their futures would now follow different paths, to different outcomes. Collins had hung back. She said goodbye to all the soldiers but she lingered by Sergeant Vallage.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” she sobbed.
“Well don’t say anything then lassie. Just… just come here.” He grabbed her and gave her a big hug. When she finally pulled away she could see his cheeks were wet. Wood remained a few paces away, waiting for her. He nodded at Vallage. Nothing more was needed. Both soldiers had been in the game long enough to know the score.
Vallage smiled through his tears. “And what did I say about that one?”
“That he’s a survivor,” Collins answered.
“Ay - a born survivor. You’ll be all right if you just stick close to him.”
“But…”
“Don’t you worry about me lassie. There’s fight in this mean old Scot yet, you’ll see.”
Denny watched them drive away until they were no longer visible. As he swung the gates closed he turned to his soldiers.
“Right lads,” he said with a determined look in his eyes, and a steely clarity that had been missing for several days, “let’s go to war!”
CHAPTER 8
For once Lewis did not look back at Headley Court as they departed. He stared out the front of the vehicle, scanning ahead for problems.
“Where’s Darby when we need him?” he muttered.
Corporal Kevin Berthon sitting beside him just nodded.
“It feels as though ever since we first went to GVF our return has been inevitable,” Lewis said to the occupants of the car in general, more musing out loud than expecting a discussion. “As though we’ve had no choice, that our destiny has been unavoidable.”
“Isn’t that always the case with destiny though?” Singleton replied. “It’s always inescapable.”
Many of the decisions Lewis had had to make over the past days and weeks had left him feeling uncertain, unsure if he was making the right choice or condemning his men to death. This time however he was absolutely convinced that going back to GVF was the correct thing to do. Having seen the vampires for himself, seen their brutal manner and the malice that consumed within, he was sure they would soon be coming to attack the humans, to bring down upon them their evil and desire for revenge, sure that leaving the base was the only way to survive. In this he was only partly correct.
The streets were quiet, as though the gods decreed that they had had their fill of action for one day. They saw one person as they negotiated the outskirts of Bishop’s Stortford, an elderly man sitting at the side of the road. He looked up as they drove by and stared at the convoy but did not attempt to stand and chase. There was a resigned look in his uncomprehending eyes, of one who is lost and confused. He was thin and looked feeble, surely not long for this world, Lewis thought.
At the far side of Bishop’s Stortford they neared the intersection of the B1383. This was where the mass of cars had crashed and they had had to defend themselves against the infected. Lewis signalled to Berthon to slow down. They approached cautiously. They had previously cleared the vehicles out of the way for the Bedford so none of them were overly concerned. The two Land Rovers negotiated the mess hesitantly. All eyes were outside, checking for enemies.
Lewis was on the radio. “Nice and easy boys, we don’t want any punctures. Just because we’ve been this way before, let’s not be victims of complacency.”
As the second vehicle cleared the mess Lewis turned to watch the Bedford. He frowned.
“What’s up boss?” Wood asked and turned to look back as well.
“What have you stopped for?” Lewis snapped into the radio.
Sergeant Harper Hutchison in the driver’s seat of the Bedford exchanged a worried glance with Flying Officer Oliver Frost who held the radio to his lips.
“Err, sorry sir, it seems we have a slight problem. I don’t think the Bedford can make it through the gap in the wreckage.”
“What do you mean? It managed before.”
“Well, it’s not going to fit now. There’s no way we can get through.”
Lewis was flummoxed. “Everybody, stay sharp,” he said into the radio. “Weapons ready.” Then he turned to Berthon. “Take it nice and easy, we’ll go and have a look.”
They slowly drove back. Even as they approached they could see that the distance between the bus and the ambulance, a distance that they themselves had enlarged not four days earlier, was now not big enough.
“That’s impossible,” Lewis said. “The lorry got through it last time. It can’t have moved.”
The gap was about a metre too narrow and there was no way the truck could squeeze through.
“Well, there’s no point in debating it boss,” said Wood. “Obviously something’s happened. The question now is, what are we going to do?”
Lewis barked orders into the radios. “Okay, I want every able-bodied person out of the vehicles, apart from the drivers. We’ve got to shift this ambulance again, same as last time, only faster. Keep your wits about you and your weapons handy. Now move.”
As they all disembarked Lewis took Straddling and Wood aside. “There’s something not right here. Keep a bloody sharp lookout.”
Apart from the three patients, the two children and the drivers, everyone else got involved. Straddling and Wood stood guard, circling the others as they heaved at the ambulance.
“What’re your thoughts?” Straddling asked Wood darkly.
“Well, your guess is as good as mine,” he
answered with a frown, “but it wasn’t no damn diseased that moved that ambulance back. And it seems to have been done deliberately, to slow us down.”
“Aye, that’s my thoughts too. But why?”
Wood had no explanation. He just stared out into the gathering dusk with forebodings growing as dark as the night itself.
With a dozen urgent pairs of hands, fuelled by fear and adrenalin, the ambulance was hastily shoved out of the way. Relieved, they piled back into vehicles. The tension had been unbearable. All the while they had been just waiting for an ambush, looking over their shoulders as they strained at the blockage. But there had been no attack and no further incident. All it had cost them was a delay; that, and the fact that for a while they had been stationary and exposed. It was all too incongruous. Rather than thankful, Lewis was left feeling uncomfortable. It seemed to him that they had missed something as they sped away. There was something niggling at the back of his mind that he could just not identify and it bothered him deeply.
He did not have much time to contemplate however. With no more delays it was not long before they arrived back on the outskirts of Stansted Mountfitchet.
It was dark as they stood in front of the weapons store. Anyone within would have heard the vehicles approach and would now be listening.
“Hello in there.”
There was silence.
“We’re the military unit from Headley Court. You helped us once before, you gave us ammunition. Our situation has now changed. We’re leaving the base and moving to the laboratories of GVF Institutes, the place responsible for all this… this madness. The place that manufactured the Dem-buster.”
There was still nothing from within. Not the slightest sound to indicate that anybody remained alive inside. Maybe they had all been killed since last time…
“We’ve decided,” Lewis continued, “we have got to try and find a cure - a cure for mankind. To try and reverse the situation, maybe save some people before it’s too late. Look, I won’t beat around the bush - we need more ammunition. We used a hell of a lot when we went there before. We need your assistance once again. Will you help us?”
The soldiers exchanged nervous glances, fingering their weapons. Nobody spoke. Lewis shifted uneasily and waited. Thirty seconds passed, then a minute. There was no noise from the shop.
“What d’ya reckon boss?” Straddling asked, sidling over to him, his gun trained on the store.
“If they’re all dead then we’ll just break in and take the lot. If they’re still alive in there then I guess our best hope is that they’re debating it right now,” Lewis said, “in which case we wait - for a while at least.”
Straddling nodded. “Hmmm. And if they don’t let us in?”
Lewis shrugged and looked at him grimly. “In that case I think we’re not in the same position as last time. I think this time our course of action will be different.”
They did not have to wait any longer to find out though. There was a click and the clanking sound of metal, and the shutters started to rattle quickly upwards. All the soldiers took an involuntary step backwards and raised their weapons.
“Steady lads,” ordered Lewis.
“Well don’t just stand there like gormless idiots,” a voice rasped from the blackness inside. “Get in.”
The air was not as fetid as Lewis had expected. The building must have been cleaned out and ventilated since their last visit. A torch shone in his face, blinding him and he shielded his eyes. Rough hands grabbed him by the arm and propelled him forwards. Suddenly another torch illuminated and he could see some of the space that he had entered. It was a store room. The floor was bare concrete. Boxes and crates lined the walls and the ceiling was nothing more than corrugated iron. There was a large collection of cardboard boxes in one corner and the other had all manner of household items and food cartons. That was all Lewis could take in as the beam of light swept in front of him.
“We’ll help you as best we can,” the voice behind the first torch said again, “but we’ll expect some food and medical assistance in return. You’d better stay here tonight and we can sort everything out in the morning, unless of course you’ve got a death-wish, that is.”
The voice was heavily accented, sounding like it had a West Country burr. Meeting a stranger off the base was still such an alien experience that it took Lewis a moment to gather his thoughts.
“Yes, that would be most kind of you,” he stammered. “I’ll get the rest of my troops.”
He ducked back under the metal shutters to speak to his men. He told them there were at least two people inside. His plan was for them all to spend the night in the building, exchange their services for ammunition, then depart at dawn. Quickly he organised a suitable guard for the vehicles. Darby would remain on the lorry under sedation overnight. As he was about to lead the soldiers back inside the store Straddling caught him by the arm.
“Do you think it’s safe in there, boss? They aren’t ill? Their intentions are genuine?”
“Well, to be honest I didn’t get a good look at them with their torch shining in my face,” Lewis replied. “But I think that we’ve got to assume it’s okay. After all, what options do we have? But good point – keep your wits about you?”
Straddling nodded and gripped his Browning tightly, closely following his commanding officer.
Once the soldiers were all inside, the shutters clattered down and for a moment they were plunged into an uneasy darkness. Someone illuminated a torch, then a few more and Lewis got a proper glimpse of the two people who had opened up to them.
The man who had spoken was probably only in his twenties although with the bushy beard and dishevelled clothes and hair he had the look of someone significantly older. His eyes darted around furtively as he shifted uneasily and he kept scratching at his chin furiously. He was overweight and wore a dirty checked shirt and scruffy, black trousers over black combat boots. He looked as though he had long harboured desires to join the military but had never quite made it. The other person, a slim lady, could not have been more dissimilar. She must have also been in her twenties. She had a lean face with pronounced cheekbones, long dark hair, if a little dirty, but scraped neatly back into a ponytail. She had no makeup and looked a bit grubby but was strikingly attractive and wore a white T-shirt and tight blue jeans. She hung back as the soldiers entered, allowing the man to establish contact.
For several seconds nobody moved or spoke. Then Lewis cleared his throat.
“I’m Captain Tommy Lewis of the Royal Artillery, based at RAF Headley Court in Bishop’s Stortford.”
The fat man said nothing but stared and blinked, until prompted by the girl.
“Oh, I’m André. And this is Alžběta. We work, well, we worked in this shop.”
“I have to thank you once again for helping us out tonight. We’re much obliged to you. Any weapons or ammunition you can spare would be really gratefully received and in return we’ll do whatever we can for you.”
Lewis briefly outlined their situation, life on the base, their previous mission to GVF and their hopes and plans. He carefully left out many of the gory details of their previous visit to the laboratories and said nothing of the vampires. As he spoke the girl sidled over until she stood just behind André.
“So you’re leaving in the morning?” she said when Lewis had finished. Her accent was as foreign sounding as her name, in complete contrast to André. There was a note in her voice and a look in her eyes that he could not identify.
“Yes, we’ll be gone at first light. I think it’s safer for us to travel during the day. You’re both more than welcome to come with us.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” André shuddered immediately. “It’s not safe out there.”
“It’s dangerous everywhere,” Lewis said, “but there’s got to be some kind of safety in numbers. I’m impressed you’ve survived all this time, just the two of you.”
The man looked even more uneasy. “No, there were five of us; us two as we
ll as Charles, Angie and Stuart, but they got attacked, only yesterday actually, when they were out looking for supplies. That’s why I let you in tonight.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” Lewis said. “We’ve lost a few good people too.”
“Well,” André's faced creased momentarily, “at least Stuart made it home. He’s out the back now.” He gestured to a door leading inwards. “He went and got himself bitten, silly arse, so I hoped you may be able to do something for him, see?”
“What? He’s been bitten by one of the infected and he’s here inside?” Lewis looked quickly at Straddling and nodded towards the interior. Straddling understood. He strode purposefully towards the door leading deeper into the building.
“No!” André was aghast and jumped in his way. “What are you doing? He’s okay. He just needs some medical attention, s’all. He said he was bitten by a dog.”
“Look, I’m sorry,” Lewis placed a firm hand on his arm, pulling him out of Straddling’s path. “If he’s been bitten by one of the infected then he’s as good as dead. Worse - he’ll turn into one of them and then we’re all in danger. There’s no helping him. Don’t you understand, that’s why we have to go back to GVF.”
“But, you don’t know for sure.” André was desperate. “He might have been bitten by a dog, that’s what he said anyway. Please, you can’t just shoot him. Besides, we didn’t have to let you in here tonight. We didn’t have to help you.”
The girl, Alžběta, had leapt in front of the door, blocking Straddling, clinging despairingly onto the door frame as he tried to pull her out of the way. Lewis thought André was lying about it being a canine bite, but it was times like these that reminded him of the horrors that they had all faced and continued to do so. It was times like these when a little compassion made a huge difference and yet cost nothing.
“Okay,” he sighed. “We’ll have a look at him.”
“You’re not just saying that but you’re going to shoot him anyway?” Alžběta asked, almost sobbing.
Twice Bitten, Twice Die (The Blood of the Infected Book 3) Page 13
