Suddenly the noises from without lessened as the world closed in. The shouts and banging seemed to lose intensity. The pain is his ribs was momentarily forgotten. Lewis’s entire attention focussed on this emaciated man lying before him. He was not entirely sure he had heard correctly, let alone understood properly. He felt sweat run down the back of his neck and the hairs on his arms stood erect. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly. “Who are you?”
“My name is Doctor Michael Rhind.” The man closed his eyes, breathing heavily. “I was largely responsible for the development of the Dem-Buster. I was trying to create an antidote when everything went wrong. I can still do it. Please, you’ve got to help me.”
Lewis was stunned. He took a couple of steps back, away from the man, rubbing his chin. “My God!” he said quietly to Straddling. “More than anything, we have got to get him back to the labs.” He looked at the door to the cupboard from where the shouts continued. “She’s clearly violent and dangerous. We can’t take her, I’m so sorry. The best I can suggest is that we get you out to safety and as soon as we create a cure we come straight back for her. She’s not going anywhere in the meantime.”
“No good.” Michael shook his head. “She was already quite sick; she may well be dead by then. You have to bring her with me.”
They had procrastinated too long and Lewis had had enough. “You’re not listening to me,” he snapped. “It’s too dangerous. We simply cannot bring her with us. Sergeant, let’s go,” he indicated to Straddling to help and bent towards Rhind. He was angry now and his voice was raised. Rhind started to raise his own voice in protest.
Straddling sighed and put a gentle hand on Lewis’s arm. “Boss, might I have a word please?” He led Lewis a few paces away. In the dining area the furore continued. Bannister was still struggling with the door and the shrieks from outside were as loud as ever. Wood and Matthews were peering through the glass panel of their own barricaded door.
Lewis turned to him. “What is it?” he said sharply. “Be quick man, we’re in a rush.”
“Boss,” Straddling held up both hands, trying to instil an element of calm, “we need this man. It sounds as though he may well be vital to what we’re trying to achieve. That’s his wife in there.”
“Yes, I know that,” Lewis interrupted offhandedly. “That’s not really a compelling argument to risk everybody’s lives. We’ve all lost loved ones. We can’t possibly take her with us. Now I suggest we get on with it.”
“Sir, it’s his wife,” Straddling repeated slowly. “Not so long ago, you yourself reminded me of the value of maintaining our humanity, even in times of strife; even when things looked dire. When I was all for killing someone who stood in our way, you persuaded me that sometimes it is the harder path that is correct. If there’s a chance we can take her with us, and if he thinks he can indeed save her, then we’ve got to at least give it a go. Besides, the amount of noise he’s making by complaining, I don’t think we have a choice. Anyway, I’ve got an idea, I think we can do it without jeopardising ourselves much. If we want to take him then I don’t see that we have an alternative.”
For a moment Lewis stared at his sergeant. Then his shoulders slumped. He winced with pain and his hand went to his ribs. “Straddling,” he took a deep breath, “you’re a good man.”
They went back to Rhind and Lewis gently placed a hand on his arm. Rhind’s eyes flickered open and he stared up at them in hope.
“Okay, I can’t promise anything but we’ll try.”
Rhind nodded and a faint smile played over his lips. “She was bitten about two days ago. She’s only really started to get sick last night. When we realised she was becoming ill she agreed to let me tie her to a chair and lock her in there.”
So she’s still tied to a chair?” Lewis asked hopefully. Rhind nodded. That at least was something.
Lewis stood back with his gun poised while Straddling braced himself, unlocked the door and flung it open. The woman was of a similar age to her husband. She had curly, greying hair that would undoubtedly have been neatly contained in a previous life but now was wild and unkempt. Her eyes were wide open and darting about angrily although they did not have the bulging appearance of one truly sick. As they opened the door she glared at them and started screaming with rage. She strained at the ropes that bound her which seemed adequate and would hold her for now.
The best way to carry her would be still tied to the chair. Lewis found some cloth bags in the store room and carefully threw them, one after another, over her head, tying them tightly around her neck. That should at least keep her teeth from spreading their evil contagion. He found some string and bound her more securely before surveying his work.
“Let’s pray to God that holds her,” he muttered. “Okay, let’s do this.”
With two people to carry and only seven soldiers to do it, it was not going to be easy. The semi-conscious man and his struggling wife were conveyed to the far doors of the cafeteria. There was no time to check if the passage was clear. As Lewis had to do a week before when they had rescued Bennett, he again raced in front with Wood. Straddling and Matthews shouldered the chair with the struggling woman. Pellegrini and Mayoh supported Rhind.
They made their way downstairs, into the gloom of the ground floor. Bannister held his doors for a few long seconds, before abandoning them and sprinting to catch up with his colleagues. The screams of the infected were as irate as ever. As he fled through the dining room the wood that was wedged through the handles groaned and splintered. The doors burst open behind him, spewing forth a stream of incensed infected.
Lewis arrived at the bottom of the stairs with a decision to make: north or south. There was no obviously better direction so he chose south. He opened the nearest doors and stared down the corridor at several diseased.
“Other way,” he said.
“You lead on,” Wood replied. “I’ll stay and deal with these.”
Lewis nodded and ran to the northern doors. He cracked them open and then ran through, leaving Wood crouching quietly and monitoring the infected to the south. So far they had not seen him. As Pellegrini and Mayoh made it to the bottom he silently waved them in Lewis’s direction. Matthews and Straddling were struggling with the writhing woman. Breathlessly they followed and Wood slowly moved towards the northern doors, just as Bannister burst through the cafeteria doors above. Wood paused, waiting for his colleague.
Bannister stopped at the café’s exit and lodged a couple of wooden chair legs through the door handles, before continuing. The sounds of the mob smashing into the barricaded doors followed him down the stairs. He did not, however, hear the noise of the chair legs splintering under the weight of so many hungry diseased. He took the steps in threes and fours and tripped at the bottom. He was getting to his feet just as the southerly doors burst open, right beside him. Wood was ready and fired immediately over Bannister’s shoulder. He only winged the man looming through but it was enough to send him spiralling back into the passageway behind.
“Run!” shouted Wood, as he propelled Bannister after their colleagues. He paused only long enough to fire as two more infected came through the doors.
The next area was wide open with machinery and computers. Lewis scanned around for hostiles or external exits. There were neither. He ran across the space to the doors opposite and checked through the glass panels.
Movement.
He took a deep breath. He knelt down and slowly creaked the door ajar. There were two people, a man and a woman. Carefully, he sighted. His first shot killed the man outright. The woman shrieked and ran at him. His second shot missed. With only a few paces to go he had to make it count. Rather than risk missing again, he shot her in the stomach, twice. She was knocked backwards and slammed into the wall, but she was far from dead. She rose with a yell of rage and a mouth full of blood, but the pause gave him the time he needed. Just one more shot was required.
He looked back as Pellegrini and Mayoh caught up with him. He did not b
other to say anything, just sprinted ahead to the next set of doors. There were rooms to either side but he did not have time to check them. Beyond he could finally see what he was looking for. There was a door leading to the outside world, an end to all this madness. Their salvation was close. If they could only just escape without any mishaps…
Bannister and Wood gave a defensive retreat for their colleagues. The doors burst open and Wood fired three times as Bannister ran ten metres, chasing after Straddling and Matthews, who laboured with their squirming burden.
“Go!” Bannister shouted as he turned, knelt and fired. A couple more infected had charged through and he hit both somewhere in their torsos, enough to stop them but only temporarily. Wood ran several paces beyond him to the next doors and again turned.
“Move!”
Lewis got to the exit but it was locked; two sturdy aluminium doors with reinforced glass panels. In addition, someone had put a padlock on them. He rattled it but clearly he would have needed bolt cutters or a hacksaw. He drew his pistol, placed it against the door handles and fired several times. The noise was terrific but it did its job. He kicked at it and the door burst open. Fresh air and hope flooded in. Lewis looked out into the carpark, almost as a safe haven. The Bedford was where they had left it, now a few dozen metres to the south. Lewis fired his pistol into the air. Then he turned and stepped back, into the abyss.
Pellegrini and Mayoh had a lighter burden and made it to the exit ahead of the others. They half-ran, half-stumbled into the carpark and started towards the lorry.
Leading Aircraftman Allen had remained in the truck with Corporal Berthon. The doors were locked and windows wound up as they watched for any signs of their colleagues. They had hardly spoken a word during their vigil. Each had gripped their pistols tightly throughout. It was hard to tell where the sounds of shooting were coming from but they were certain that each bang meant that their friends were in danger. Eventually Berthon thought he saw movement towards the northern end of the building and stared in that direction.
“What’s that over there?” he nudged Allen. “They’re coming.”
Immediately he fired up the engine as he saw what looked like three people limping towards him.
Lewis rushed back to help Straddling and Matthews. He swung his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed the chair from behind, lightening their load somewhat, although the movement made him wince with pain. The three of them shuffled awkwardly and made it out of the exit. The others ahead were already well on their way to the Bedford which had just started to move in their direction. The sounds of madness and gunfire were still close behind.
The number of infected chasing them down had swollen. They charged at their prey and fell as the bullets picked them off, one by one. There were still too many though, and they were getting too close. Wood was standing by the last doors as Bannister ran towards him. One of the side offices suddenly burst open. A man emerged with a snarl. His spiky, red hair and the rim of blood around his lips made him look like some kind of crazed fairground clown. He lunged at Bannister and grabbed hold of his jacket. The infected were closing and Wood had no time to think. As Bannister wheeled about, Wood grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and yanked him away. At the same time he was trying desperately to fire into the onrushing throng. Somehow in the melee he lost his concentration on the clown and the man managed to turn to attack him. He clawed at Wood’s face and leant in to bite. Wood’s rifle was no use at such close quarters. He dropped it as the man’s teeth came within range. There was nothing for it but a pub-style brawl. He head-butted the man, breaking his nose. Blood spouted everywhere. As the clown fell back slightly he reached for his knife and brought it between the two of them, ramming it straight up into the soft part of the flesh under the jaw, burying to the hilt. The infected were now upon them both. Bannister had regained his footing and sprayed the width of the corridor with two quick passes, buying them a little time. The clown sank to his knees as Wood withdrew his blade and Bannister propelled his friend away from the horde.
Berthon sped towards the soldiers. He was quick to assess the situation. As he neared Pellegrini and Mayoh he swerved around them but carried on. Allen shouted at him to stop but he ignored him.
“What are you doing?” Allen screamed. “We have to save them.”
But Berthon had read the situation more astutely than his colleague.
Pellegrini and Mayoh did indeed need help but they were not the most immediate cause for concern. Thirty paces beyond were the three soldiers who were far more tired and struggling harder, carrying Rhind’s wife. There’s was a more pressing need but Berthon did not stop to collect them either. Only just tearing from the building were Bannister and then Wood, and almost directly beyond them were the mass of infected. Berthon had realised quite correctly that his first priority was to save Wood, as he was the one closest to the jaws of death.
Lewis urged his colleagues on as the lorry passed them by. “Keep going,” he wheezed with a pained expression, “we’re not safe yet.”
Berthon slewed the vehicle around them and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. Bannister realised what he was doing and took evasive action, still sprinting hard. A couple of steps behind and Wood also understood. At the last moment he threw himself aside, narrowly missing the offside wing of the lorry. Finally, he permitted himself to slow and turned with pistol in hand to witness the lorry plough through the infected, so resolved were they on reaching their quarry. Berthon skidded and managed to collect most of them under the front bumpers. Their screams died quickly as the four tons of metal and rubber crushed their bones and ended their insanity and their pursuit.
The soldiers wasted no time in getting into the lorry. As Berthon whisked them the short journey back to their new home, RAF GVF as it had become known, Lewis’s thoughts turned to Corporal Elliott Gray, left behind with his charge and surrounded by all of that death and madness.
CHAPTER 14
The rest of the diminishing band of survivors were waiting anxiously. They had no idea of the fate of their friends, other than the occasional muffled thud of distant gunfire. They gathered in the dining area and sat in huddles, hardly speaking, just flinching and exchanging worried glances every time a shot was heard.
Squadron Leader Anna Singleton and Dr Handley had tried to busy themselves as best they could. They spent much of the time with Senior Aircraftman Masters and Vida. It was five days since they had rescued her from the clutches of the vampires and she had been unconscious for most of that. Other than keeping her hydrated with a drip and trying to control her temperature, there was little they could do for her.
“Occasionally she opens her eyes,” Masters said with a pitiful expression. “A couple of times she’s smiled at me. I know she can recognise me – it’s a smile she used to give when she wanted something; like when she was in bed feeling lazy and wanted me to go and make her a cup of tea. For a few moments it looks like she’s waking up and is about to say something. Then all of a sudden it’s as though the Vida that I know leaves her body and her expression changes, and then she closes her eyes again. I know that doesn’t make much sense but that’s the only way I can explain it.”
Even as they sat with him she stirred. She moved on the bed slightly and with her eyes closed her mouth started to form a subtle smile. A breath escaped her, barely more than a spring draft, and her lips formed around unspoken words.
“Did you hear that?” Masters asked, seeking some measure of comfort. “She said ‘my love’. You heard that right?” He was desperate to be reassured that he had not imagined it; reassurance that there was still hope and that she was still with him.
“Yes, we heard it,” Singleton smiled and stroked his back as the doctors stood up and quietly left him alone, happy with his wife, if only for the briefest of moments.
“It must be so hard to see someone you love being taken from you like that,” Handley whispered as they padded away. “Do you think she’s going to come back to h
im?”
Singleton shook her head glumly. “I just don’t know.” She stopped and stared fixedly at her colleague. “For all of our scientific learning and for all of my doubts and disbeliefs, there is more to this, to all of this, than I have knowledge of. What has happened to that young lady is way beyond my experience. What will become of her, as far as I can see, is down to God now.”
They went to find Bennett, knowing precisely where he would be. He had barely moved from the medical centre that they had improvised in a room near the kitchens. As his strength had returned the two doctors had been delegating more and more of their medical duties to Corporals Newman and May Williams. This was far from ideal as the corporals were preoccupied with the children. However it was entirely unavoidable; with dwindling numbers everyone was working hard and they would just have to cope. The doctors had devoted increasing amounts of time to talking to Bennett and trying to work through the information on the laptop. They had made copious notes based on Boxall’s ‘instruction manual’ and Bennett had scoured the rest of the computer for anything else of use.
“I could really do with getting access to my own laptop and work,” he said to them.
“Where exactly is all that?” Handley asked.
Bennett waved a shaky hand in the direction of the eastern part of the lab. “In the fast food section.”
The area that had been used for the animal experimentation had been dubbed ‘the fast food joint’ by Bannister. This was where the greatest predominance of diseased seemed to have congregated and had not yet been cleared of the infected.
“Well, we can get the soldiers to do something about that as soon as they’re back,” said Singleton. “And in the meantime, how’s it going?”
Bennett tweaked his now-flaccid moustache unhappily. “The same as when we last spoke I guess. I understand a lot of the information and the concepts are all those that I worked on with Dr Boxall. However, my expertise really was more to do with the animals and how the drug was affecting them. I mean, that’s closely reflected by what happens to humans as well, but I was not so much involved with the actual production of the drug.”
Twice Bitten, Twice Die (The Blood of the Infected Book 3) Page 23
