Jack nudged Dee and stood, grabbed the food-laden plate and, with a nod to Ben, headed outside.
Eric was sitting next to Tony who was lying on the ground, wiping his brow with a cloth. As Jack drew closer he could see Tony’s skin had become all blotchy with bruise-like patches. He offered the plate to Eric. “Here, eat. We’ll take over.”
“Thanks, guys.” Eric started shovelling the food into his mouth.
Jack knelt down next to Tony. He wasn’t quite sure, but he thought he detected a faint fruity smell.
Dee sat down next to him and took one of Tony’s hands.
“His nails have grown really long.”
Jack looked at Tony’s other hand. The skin had become stretched and thin, giving it a translucent look. He picked it up and looked at the nails. On closer inspection, Jack could see that the nails had fallen off, exposing the bone underneath. The bone had hardened and yellowed, and the tips of the bony digits were now sharp claws. Jack dropped Tony’s hand and leapt up, backing away.
“Dee, let it go, now!”
Dee scampered back from Tony, a confused look on her face. Her eyes questioned Jack, but she didn’t voice her concerns.
Eric looked up from shovelling his food. “What?”
Jack glanced between Tony and Eric, trying to decide the best way to voice what he suspected. He knew they were close friends. “I…think he’s infected by the virus. He’s turning into one of them. Look!”
Eric leant over his mate, searching. “He’s just sick, that’s all. You guys have been wounded by the Variants. You’re okay.”
Jack rubbed at his scar, feeling the ridge of hardened tissue. Maybe Eric was right. He had been clawed, Ben had been speared and Boss’d had his lower leg ripped off. All of them were still human. He looked back down at Tony who was trembling like it was freezing cold, yet sweat was dripping off him.
Jack rubbed the stubble on his chin. “He was bitten, right?”
Eric nodded.
“So maybe, if these beasts bite you, they transfer the virus.”
“They’re not bloody zombies!”
“We know, Eric. Jack’s trying to figure it out. We really don’t know…” Dee said.
Dee pointed towards the far corner of the Pa. Twelve bodies lay next to a pyre of wood, wrapped in sheets. The casualties from their battle with the Variants that morning. Katherine lay amongst eleven brave warriors. Warriors who had saved them. Warriors who would never see their loved ones again. The thought of their sacrifices saddened Jack. Hone had insisted that they be burnt to limit the possibility of infection.
“The person who had the best knowledge is lying there.”
Eric raised his hands, palms out and lowered his voice. “I know, Dee. I’m sorry. I’m just saying, we don’t know enough to jump to conclusions. Let’s get him back to Mayor and get some drugs into him.”
Dee nodded and looked at Jack.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, guys. What if he turns back on Mayor and kills people? Hell, we don’t even know what’s going on over there. Everything’s a mess.” Jack flung his hand towards the mountains. “We’ve got a bloody cabin just over there. I still don’t know what’s happened to my family.”
“I know, guys. Can we just give him time?” Eric said. “That’s all I ask.”
“Okay. Sure.”
Jack grimaced before nodding in agreement. Who was he to deny Eric? He walked away, glancing back at Dee. She caught up to him.
“Do you think he is turning?”
“I’m not sure, but his hands sure looked like claws. Did you see his skin? It was weird and blotchy.”
Dee shook her head.
Jack said nothing further, using the time to calm down. It wouldn’t last. He knew he had a quick temper. He glanced around at the thick wooden logs surrounding the Pa. The shrieks of the Variants sounded in the distance, but so far nothing closer. The Variant corpses rotting on the trees must be doing their job. He admired the craftsmanship of the Maori. They had built a strong, defendable complex. They had lasted six weeks and looked to be well-organised.
Jack stopped near the pyre. “Are you ready for the cremation?”
“I think so, yeah. I just feel hollow and angry. Why would Dad lie about Mum?”
“I don’t know, baby. The only thing that I can think of was he wanted to protect you. Maybe the lie just got away from him.”
Dee nodded and wrapped an arm around him. “We should get the chopper to do a fly-by of the cabin, just to be sure.”
“That’s why I love you, always looking out for me.”
Dee nudged him gently in his side. “Only one reason? Harsh.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m working on more, but lust overpowers me every time.” Jack wrapped his other arm around Dee and lifted her off the ground, kissing her deeply. He held on to her, enjoying the familiar feel of her bones, her curves, her passion.
“I know I’ve said it before, Dee, but thanks for coming for me. If I had to choose someone to experience the apocalypse with, I would always choose you.”
“And I you, Jack, without a doubt,” she said. “You were so obsessed with the apocalypse, it was like you were guarding it.”
Jack grinned and eased her down. “Yeah. And now we are living the bloody thing.”
Shadows fell across the ground to one side of them, and Jack turned his head. Hone and Ben were leading a group of Maori over to them. Three elderly ladies dressed in black and wearing crowns of kawakawa came up alongside them. They lifted their heads, and a haunting song filled the air. A powhiri, if Jack remembered the name correctly. Though he could not understand the words, their meaning was clear from their tone. It spoke of sadness about those who had fallen, sadness at what had become of the world, sadness for those left to pick up the pieces and who must try to carry on. It thanked those who had given the ultimate sacrifice so they, the survivors, could have more time.
The tone of the song shifted as those gathered behind the kaumatua joined in. It now spoke of the lives of those fallen, of how every life was a blessing, something to be treasured and remembered with song and story. And so each life was honoured. Jack recalled a visit to a marae where the carver had explained that the great people, their stories, are carved into the history of their whanau.
Jack lost himself to the haunting song. He too remembered friends, family, pets and travels. He remembered peaceful days reading. Days exploring and going on adventures.
The emotional song finished, several men moved forwards and lifted the fallen onto the top of the pyre. Jack’s eyes glistened. He felt Dee hug him tighter as they watched Katherine’s body join the fallen warriors. Hone signalled to a couple of torch bearers, and they moved forwards to touch the timber with their flames.
Jack watched, entranced, as the flames grew in intensity, wrapping their fiery fingers around the wood. The air filled with heat as the pyre came alight. He took a step back. There was something morbidly beautiful about a funeral pyre, and thoughts of the final scenes of Return of the Jedi flashed through his mind.
As the smoke thickened, it billowed around those gathered, as if the spirits of the dead kissed the mourning goodbye before departing on their next journey. He gave Dee a squeeze and turned, looking for Ben. He was anxious to get going and find out what had happened on Mayor Island. He could feel his stomach twisting as he thought of George. He hoped their evacuation drills in the bunker had done their job. George was a smart kid and Boss treated him like a little brother. So Jack had hopes, but doubts crept in, threatening to cripple his demeanour.
He looked up as Ben stepped closer, his brown eyes twinkling with friendliness. He reached them and drew them into a quick hug. Pulling back, he grasped each of them by the shoulder. “Great send-off for the fallen. I’ve seen a lot of funerals in my time, but the Maori tangi is one of my favourites. This one wasn’t traditional, but Hone and his people have adapted it.”
Jack and Dee nodded in agreement.
“The chopper is due in
ten minutes. Gather your things. Let’s get home.” Ben held Jack’s gaze for a moment. “Have you got that cursed case?”
Jack pointed to their gear. “Yeah. It’s over there.”
“Good. Let’s get ready. Hone said the far end of the Pa, by the gardens, should be sufficient for an LZ.”
“I meant to tell you. I think Tony is turning…well, I suspect…he’s different to others who’ve been injured,” Jack said as he rubbed the back of his neck, waiting for Ben to answer. He wasn’t sure if he should have said anything, but something about Tony’s condition nagged at him.
Ben looked over to the Joneses. “You sure? Okay. Let’s be safe and strap him down to a stretcher. We don’t know what the hell we’re dealing with.”
Jack followed Dee over to their gear and started to assemble it. He lifted his pack over his shoulders, smiling at the bright green fabric. If this pack could tell stories it would keep people entertained for weeks. He checked his rifle and slung it over his shoulder.
Dee wiped the black gore off the blade of her katana and slipped it back into the webbing of her pack. Jack paused, admiring her for a moment. She had certainly adapted well to this new world order and wielded that blade with the ruthless efficiency of a samurai.
“You guys ready?” Hone said, striding over.
“Just about, thanks. Thanks for your hospitality, Hone.”
“You’re welcome, Jack. Look after your little Eowyn.”
Jack grinned at his reference. “So what is this place you have here?”
Hone glanced between Dee and Jack. He had a proud look to his posture.
“A couple of years ago, I decided to search out a lost Pa. Songs in our history told of a lost, abandoned Pa on top of a mountain. A few of us wanted to try to live by the old ways. We were tired of the way we were losing our children to lives of crime and seeing them waste away in prison. We searched for a few months, and after a few flights over, we found it. I then advertised for like-minded people to join me, and here we are. We call ourselves ‘Tamariki o kohu Te Maunga’. Simply put, ‘Children of the Misty Mountains’.”
Jack grinned at him. “Like in The Hobbit?”
Hone laughed, a deep bass laugh, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Yes, just like in The Hobbit.” He turned, looking Dee up and down. “Look after yourselves, you hear. Don’t be strangers.”
“Thanks, Hone. I love what you’ve done here.”
“Keep up the fight. We’ll take back our land.”
Hone turned and walked back over to the burning funeral pyre, greeting some of the men shovelling the ashes back into the fire. The acrid smell of burning wood and flesh stung Jack’s nostrils. He turned and adjusted his pack.
The distant thump of the incoming chopper reminded Jack of home. He associated the sound with rescue. With hope. Now he hoped it would take them to the boys. He moved over to help Eric with Tony, using duct tape to secure him to the makeshift stretcher. The thumping grew louder as Jack picked up one end of the stretcher, straining his tired muscles to lift the worsening Tony.
The wash of the rotating blades blew soil and leaves into Jack’s face as he struggled with the load. Moving into position, he waited for the chopper to descend.
The Maori warriors who had saved them gathered to wave them off. A couple ran over and helped load Tony into the chopper. Jack looked into the cockpit and was surprised to see the pilot had Asian features. He stood back, looking at the chopper. Come to think of it, he wasn’t familiar with the model. He shrugged and leapt in, taking a vacant seat. Dee jumped in and went to the cockpit; Jack watched her speaking to the pilot and pointing towards their cabin. The pilot nodded, and Dee moved back to join Jack. Ben shook Hone’s hand and jumped in beside his Renegades.
— 23 —
The engines whined as the chopper lifted, throwing more debris into the air. Jack looked down with pride as they flew away. He’d thought that all was lost on the mainland, but here, on top of this mountain, a determined group of people were holding out. They had refused to surrender to the Variant horde. So far, they were succeeding. Jack vowed to come back and fight with them. From what he’d seen, the love and empathy of the people there deserved everything he had. They had opened their homes to the Renegades. He wanted to stand with them and fight. Jack turned his head and looked east towards Mayor Island. His home. First, he had to secure his family.
Fourth phase: We fight back.
Jack looked down, searching for the red corrugated iron roof of his cabin. He spotted it nestled in the bush, tapped the pilot on his shoulder and pointed. He cupped his hand over the small microphone. “Can we land? I want to check it out.”
The pilot shook his head. “Sorry. I can’t spare the fuel. I can circle a couple more times.”
Jack nodded and kept looking down, waiting. After a couple more circles, the chopper banked away, heading south-east. Jack shook his head and looked down at the metal floor of the helicopter. Dee slid her hand into his.
Ben patted his shoulder. “Sorry, Jack.”
Jack held his gaze for a while before turning to watch the bush-clad Kaimai mountains whizz by. Far below, small towns lay still and silent. Nothing moved on the roads. It was like someone had clicked the off-switch on a giant Scalextric set. The bush gave way to fields of grass and orchards. Jack watched as the chopper buzzed over the land then swept out over the Pacific Ocean where whitecaps broke on the surface as far as the eye could see.
A primal howl echoed around the cabin, jolting Jack out from his reflection. He turned his head. Tony arched his back, straining against his duct tape bonds. His eyes were yellow and reptile-looking. His mouth still looked human, but his teeth were now deformed and yellow. He howled again. Eric jumped onto him, holding his arms down. Tony spat and hissed. The smell of rotten fruit filled the cabin.
“Hold him down!” yelled Ben, joining Eric in sitting on Tony’s legs.
Tony howled again and arched his back violently, throwing Eric and Ben off with ease. The duct tape snapped.
Jack pulled out his Glock, aiming for Tony, but Tony had spun into a crouch, his back to the door. The creature that was once Tony tilted his head, looking at the Renegades, assessing them. His yellow reptile eyes flickered, and his mouth deformed into a snarl.
“What the hell is going on back there?” shouted the pilot.
Ben reached up for the door handle. “Just keep flying. We’ll sort this out.”
He pulled on the door and air rushed in. The creature dug its claws into the frame and, with a snarl, leapt at Eric.
Eric rolled back and held it off with his feet. “Get him off me!”
Jack held out his Glock, trying to get a clear shot. There was a glint of metal and Dee lunged forwards, spearing the creature through the throat with her katana. Blackish blood gushed out, coating the floor.
Eric shoved the creature off him with a kick. It reached up, trying to stem the flow of blood pouring out of the wound. Eric backpedalled against the seats.
Jack watched, amazed, as Dee kicked the creature out the open door. It sailed through the air, tumbling and thrashing wildly, before it splashed into the waves below.
Ben slammed the door shut and the air in the cabin stilled.
Jack reached over and patted Eric’s shoulder. Eric shoved his hand away. Jack left him to his grief and looked out to see the distinctive volcano shape of Mayor Island.
Smoke poured from the small settlement, and Jack’s heart sank. He couldn’t see much from this distance, but seeing the smoke rising from the island confirmed all Jack’s fears. He glanced at the pilot, urging the flying tin can to go faster. He was eager to fight the bastards that had attacked their sanctuary.
Dee nudged his shoulder and pointed west towards Tauranga. A number of boats were making their way into the harbour. He felt the hairs on his neck bristle. This day was getting weirder. Jack reached down and laced his fingers in Dee’s. He needed something loving and familiar to help settle his shattered nerves.
/> Jack turned his attention back to the island as the chopper flew closer. Sunlight pierced through the swirling smoke and mist, giving it a surreal, mystical look. Jack shook his head, trying to shake away his fears. He squeezed Dee’s hand. He knew he had to persevere. They hadn’t come this far, fighting the darkness, to fail now. He rubbed a hand over his carbine, eager to dish out punishment on the Variants.
— 24 —
Thick smoke hung in the air, swirling around like fog on a winter’s day. Dee stared at the scene unfolding before her as the chopper jolted onto the ground.
The husk of a large boat, still burning, was moored to the jetty. Dozens of Variant bodies lay scattered around, their rotten fruit smell overpowering the stench of death that hung in the air.
Dee looked skyward and prayed that Boss and George had made it to the bunker and were safe. Crouching low, she crab-crawled away from the wash of the blades. Once the Renegades had exited, the engines hummed and the chopper lifted off, banking away out over the bay.
“Let’s go find the boys,” Jack said, nudging her arm.
She scanned the far side of the bay as they walked, looking for the villa they had made their home. She could see its white paint gleaming in the early afternoon sun, like a lighthouse guiding ships to safe passage. Dee hoped that this day would end well.
A man dressed in army fatigues walked briskly over and saluted Ben. Ben saluted back, and Dee heard them exchange some words. She wasn’t listening though, as she could see bodies lying in rows on the boardwalk near the old hotel. She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. Jack had spotted them too and stood with her, his head lowered. She estimated at least fifty to seventy bodies. Army personnel were picking their way between them, making notes on clipboards. Dee adjusted her rifle on her shoulder and made to walk over to them.
Ben saw her moving off and held up his hand. “Dee, Jack. Wait.”
Extinction New Zealand Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 32
