“That’s exactly what I don’t want them to think we’re going to do,” Muz told him.
“No, of course not,” Chuck said. “That would just be stupid.”
“You ready?” Muz asked the African man, ignoring his comment.
“I guess so.”
“You lot wait in here for the minute until I call you forward,” Muz said to the others.
Cautiously, he then opened his door and dropped down to the road. Chuck did the same. Holding their open hands out, so as to show they weren’t brandishing weapons, they took one slow step after another towards the junction at the end of the street.
“Stop there,” a voice shouted out through a loudhailer, after they had taken no more than ten steps.
Simultaneously, the two men stopped in their tracks, fearing that they might not be given a second warning.
“We’ve got something important to show you,” Muz called back at the top of his lungs, hoping his words weren’t drowned by the falling rain.
When he got no response from the soldier, he turned to look at Chuck. The big man just shrugged back at him in indecision. Muz started walking forward again.
“Do not come any closer,” the artificially enhanced voice bellowed again.
“Listen to me. My name is Colour Sergeant Chijioke,” Chuck shouted, stepping forward in line with the copper. “We have people here who have recovered from the infection. We want to hand them over to you. They need to be examined.”
Again, there was no response.
“Are you listening to me?” Chuck called out as loud as he could manage without succumbing to a coughing fit. “They may be the key to a cure.”
Still nothing.
Chuck dared to step further forward now and Muz followed him. As they did so, they looked down at their chests and at the ground around them, trying to see whether there were any laser sights trained on them. In the bright light of the day though, it wasn’t possible to tell at this range. They kept walking, hoping for the best.
Then there came a shot. Chuck heard something unseen buzz through the air by his right ear, instantly followed by the crack of a rifle.
“Don’t shoot,” Muz pleaded, putting his hands up in the air.
“Fuck this,” Chuck growled, turning and running back to the truck.
Inspired by the first, more and more shots rained past Muz, sparking and giving of high-pitched whirring sounds, as they ricocheted off cars and road signs. Muz needed no further warning. He too span on his heels and ran.
“Get in the sodding truck,” Chuck yelled frantically at him, leaning out of his door, as bullets continued to wiz through the air.
Muz literally dove into his seat, his face landing in Chuck’s lap. Pulling himself together, rather than reversing all the way back up the long straight road, he spun the wheel hard left and screeched into the junction.
Hillersdon Avenue, running parallel with the A5, hid the Jankel from the soldier’s sight for the most part with a stretch of semi-detached houses. Only the reports of a few rounds continued to cut the air, as one or two soldiers tried to sneak bullets between the tightly packed buildings.
“Well, at least we tried,” Chuck said, coughing into his dirty hanky. “Drive to the far end of the road and do a left. We’ll have to make a wide loop back round to the block.”
“No. If the army are going to use chemical weapons, we have to get out of the quarantine somehow,” Amy demanded, her voice shrill with fear.
“Chemical weapons are usually heavier than air,” Raj told her calmly. “Otherwise, they would simply float away and therefore be of little use. So long as the helicopters aren’t carrying napalm, we should be okay high up in the tower.”
“He’s right,” Chuck agreed.
Amy wasn’t happy though and slumped back into her seat, whining to herself.
Feeling more than a little shaken, Muz did as Chuck suggested. He had almost reached the end of the road when what he saw caused him to stamp on the break so hard that those in the rear were thrown forwards, bashing heads with each other and slamming into the hard steel partition.
“Ow,” Amy cried out and Digby yelped, more in shock than pain.
“You drive like child,” Tom protested angrily.
Muz, staring ahead of the truck, didn’t hear the people in the back. It had been several days since they had seen that strange and dangerous goo that had killed Carl back in the tower. Muz had begun to hope that the thing had dried up and died, yet, here it was again.
The blob slowly emerged, expanding and contracting in a crude form of locomotion, from around one of the houses that sat by the T-junction, until it blocked the street ahead of them. Huge now, it contained the complete and incomplete skeletons of numerous people and what looked like the remains of a badger. It was so massive that it even held within its mucus-like form a semi-consumed bovine carcass. The bones and the nervous system were the only parts of the cow not being dissolved by the acid. The thin cords of nerves could clearly be seen being gathered up by the combined human nerve bundles. The dead animal was thus being assimilated into the communal network. Still at the very centre of the amoeboid mass were the original two human skeletons, their hands bonded together by an enveloping web of nerve clusters.
“No fucking way is that real,” Muz gasped.
“Not good,” Tom whispered.
Raj scrambled forwards in the rear and leant between the two front seats.
“Incredible. It’s an integrated community,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “Never in my wildest dreams…”
“It’s a legion,” Chuck stated ominously.
“Beautiful,” Raj said in admiration.
“Get back in the rear,” Muz said angrily, slapping Raj on the head and forcing him backward.
Inside the jellified mass, there were many eyes, some still seated within skulls, some free-floating in the goo, attached by their optic nerves to the collective core. As extensions of the brain, the cellular metamorphosis had left them alone. As one, the eyes turned to regard the truck.
“It’s looking right at us,” Raj gasped, eyes filled with wonder, as though he were looking at his own child for the first time.
“Not good,” Tom reiterated.
“Other than the useless calcium of the skeletal remains, it appears to be comprised primarily of basic protein compounds,” Raj said, more to himself than anyone around him, as though he were attempting to mentally deconstruct the strange organism.
“Just so you’re aware, this pile of protein compounds eats people,” Amy told him.
“Not eats. Absorbs,” Raj corrected her. “And in doing so, it links whatever neural tissue it salvages to its own via its increasing nerve web. It would therefore be logical to assume that the more organisms it assimilates, the more intelligent it becomes.”
“Great,” Muz barked.
Raj’s contemplation became so intense then that he ceased to vocalise his thoughts, as they came too thick and fast for mere words to keep up with.
“I think you should back up,” Chuck told Muz.
“Er… yeah.” The sight of the impossible creature had caused the copper’s brain to stall.
The seeing thinking amoeba quivered in anticipation and edged forward.
“It’s coming for us,” Chuck warned.
“Yes. I know,” Muz said, fumbling with the gear stick.
“Not good,” Tom said.
In his haste and nervousness, Muz seemed incapable of finding reverse gear.
“Okay, calm down,” Chuck told him. “Look how slow it’s moving. You’ve got plenty of time.”
“But don’t forget how it killed Carl,” Amy added.
No sooner had the woman said this than several semi-liquid tentacles shot out from the main body of the massive lump, snapping through the air towards the truck. They fell short of their target but then instead wrapped themselves around cars and lampposts, contracting to drag the mass towards the survivors at a much accelerated rate.
“Reverse. Now. Hurry up,” Chuck told Muz.
“Shit,” Muz yelled and fought with the gear stick until it crunched into gear.
He floored the accelerator and spun the steering wheel. The Jankel arced backwards, mounted the pavement and slammed into a lamppost, buckling the rear doors.
“Get your fucking head in gear,” Chuck shouted at Muz, “or we’re going to be eaten by a zombie-filled lump of snot.”
Shaking like a leaf, Muz engaged first and sped off in the opposite direction, back the way they had come. Tom unlocked the damaged rear doors and repeatedly kicked at them until they reluctantly flung open. Taking one of the cocktails from his bag, he lit it and threw it out, back at the blob.
The bottle shattered directly in front of the huge mass and the spraying alcohol instantly ignited. Although the sudden burst of flames caused the pile of mucus to pause its advance, the flames quickly died and it appeared unharmed. It flicked out more and more tendrils, continuing after the truck but the Jankel had by far the superior speed.
As the truck drew near to the junction with Orchard Drive though, oozing over the roof of a house in front of them, they were dismayed to see a second amoeboid mass. Its weight caused the beams of the roof to bow and the tiles to shatter and fall, until it slumped forward and fell to the ground. It rolled out the front garden, over the low wall and into the road.
Muz hit the brake hard to avoid driving straight into it. The Jankel’s rear end swung out to one side and it threatened to tip over before coming to a stop. The multiple eyes encased in this second jelly immediately locked on the truck and it began to drag itself forward with hungry urgency. With one giant carnivorous amoeba to their rear and one at their front, the group were trapped.
The pulsing gooey masses began to close in on the survivors. Rifle bullets cut between the houses, as the giant amoeboid creatures intermittently came within the Marines’ lines of sight. The blobs absorbed the rounds that struck them, like ballistic gelatine, without so much as a quiver. Only when a bullet penetrated deep enough to touch a nerve cluster did one of the blob’s so much as flinch.
“What the hell do I do now?” Muz asked, hoping that someone in the truck would propose a way out of the situation.
“Muz, please, just get us out of here,” Amy pleaded.
“And how am I supposed to do that exactly,” Muz spat back angrily.
Tom continued to throw burning bottles out the rear, laying a flaming barrier in the road between them and the massive pile of snot that was coming from that direction.
Raj leapt out past him, landing in the road on all fours. Not wanting to try to breach the wall of flames, he turned and loped on hands and feet to the front of the Jankel, to face the second monstrous jelly. With his refined sense of smell, the acidic stench coming from the amoeboid creature was almost overpowering. It was dangerously close now.
“What the hell are you doing?” Muz demanded, opening his door slightly.
“I have a hypoth...,” Raj began to say, as a sticky wet tendril snapped out at him.
The huge boneless limb caught him round the chest, wrapping itself so tight around him that he was unable to breathe. As soon as its hold on its prey was secure, the writhing arm pulled back, wrenching Raj through the air towards the body of the beast.
Raj, flailing like a rag doll, slapped hard against the surface of the goo. His eyes lost their terrible glare, as they widened with fear. He splayed his arms and legs, bracing himself and spreading his body weight, trying not to allow the creature to draw him into itself. It was no use though; he was rapidly absorbed into the undulating mass. At the last moment, he screwed the lids of his eyes tight and pursed his lips shut, as the vile treacle enveloped his face.
Those in the Jankel watched, transfixed in horror, expecting to see the man’s skin begin to burn and blister. It didn’t however. After several seconds of sinking deeper and deeper into the sopping pile, he still appeared to remain unharmed. Then the huge mass stopped moving towards the truck. It shuddered violently, paused then shuddered again.
Then, emanating from Raj close to its centre, cracks seemed to form in the liquid. The mass juddered and quaked more and more violently. An arm thrust out with frightening speed from the main body at the Jankel. It wasn’t one of the mucus tendrils though but rather a solid shard. The splitting cracks continued to spread outward within the mass. More crystal-like shards thrust outward. One hit the truck, pushing between and bending its heavy bull-bars, piercing the radiator.
In less than a minute, the amoeboid creature was no longer fluid at all. Instead, it resembled a crystalline volcanic geode and was just as motionless. Riddled with fractures that compromised its structural integrity, it fell to pieces. From within the crystal rumble, out slumped Raj, apparently just as dead as the blob now was.
“Whoa,” Muz gasped in astonishment.
With the acidic mass no longer a threat, Muz dared to edge the Jankel forward towards where Raj lay. The radiator hissed in protest and the wheels crunched over chunks of amber crystals. The Indian man still wasn’t moving. Muz opened his door.
“What are you doing?” Chuck said. “Leave him. He’s dead. We have to go.”
“He’s been dead before,” Muz told the big man. “We need to get him.”
“Blob number two is coming,” Tom informed them from by the rear doors. “Is close. We need to leave now.”
“He saved us,” Muz said, jumping down out of the truck. “Don’t you drive away.”
Muz knelt by Raj’s side, brushing crystal shards off the man before daring to touch him. The Doctor’s jaw hung limp and his half-lidded eyes were unfocused and still.
“Get back in here or I’m leaving you,” Chuck shouted, panic all too evident in his voice.
“Somebody help me pick him up,” the copper called out, as he struggled to lift the Indian man’s dead weight.
Annoyed and afraid, Chuck jumped down and helped Muz throw Raj’s limp body up onto the front seats. Amy and Sam reached through from the rear and dragged him back, while Tom continued to launch burning projectiles.
A tentacle slapped the back of the Jankel and Tom fell back in fright. Scrabbling onto his hands and knees, he reached out and pulled the doors shut.
“Okay. We go now,” he stated urgently.
Muz drove the battered truck forward, tyres and a bare rim screaming against the road. A steaming cloud spewing from the radiator made it difficult to see where he was going but he sped away regardless. As he drove around the geode, the front left corner of the truck struck the rocky pile, buckling the bodywork and sending small shards spraying through the air and clattering down the road.
“Wait. Stop,” Chuck shouted.
Muz stamped hard on the brake, fearing that the man had seen another danger he himself had not yet spotted. Chuck was looking back through the side mirror attached to his door.
“That second blob isn’t coming after us anymore,” he said, opening his door and leaning out to look behind them.
“So?” Muz asked.
Chuck was right. The huge mucus monster was behind the enormous geode, not daring to pass it. Its wet tendrils slowly reached out to its dead twin, tentatively almost touching it before drawing back rapidly.
“I think it’s afraid of it,” Chuck declared.
“So?” Muz asked.
“Maybe it does have a level of intelligence, like Raj said,” Amy suggested. “Maybe it’s afraid of contracting whatever it was that Raj did to the other one.”
“Yeah, so?” Muz asked, frustrated and wanting to drive off.
“So,” Chuck explained. “We don’t know if or when we might run into another one of those things again. It might be worth picking up some of the pieces to keep as a deterrent.”
As Muz was pondering this, he heard the unmistakable heavy chopping of rotor blades again. This time it wasn’t a British Sea King. Looking up, he saw the sleek form of a Black Hawk emerge from over the far side of the A5. Moving into po
sition directly above, it hovered some thirty feet over the remains of the blob Raj had somehow managed to kill.
Seconds later, under the covering fire of door-mounted flame throwers that kept the second amoeboid creature at bay, six men in black suits, helmets, goggles and respirators rapidly descended down ropes. Chuck had seen the high tech’ extremely specialist kit they were dressed in a few times before, on missions that officially never took place. The soldiers were American Special Ops.
As one, they hit the ground and immediately formed a tight circle around the crumbling crystalline pile, still attached to the helicopter above by the ropes that were clipped to their chest harnesses. Swinging their assault rifles around from their backs, they adopted kneeling fire positions and pointed them warily at the retreating creature.
Once they were in position, one of their numbers signalled upwards, and in response, three more men in white contamination suits were winched down to the ground with far less grace and efficiency. Finding their footing, they then nervously and hurriedly set about the task of obtaining crystal samples.
Two of the men in white worked together to pick up half of a human skeleton, still partially encased in a solidified lump of the dead amoeba monster. They placed it in what looked to those watching from the Jankel to be a high-tech body bag. Sealing the bag and switching on an extraction fan caused the bag to vacuum form around the sample, crinkling as it squeezed tight around the bare ribs and skull.
These men were not the dumb Marines they had faced on the cordon line, Chuck thought. Maybe they would listen to what he had to say. He clambered between the front seat into the rear of the Jankel and grabbed Sam by the arm.
“Come with me,” the big man said.
Sam pulled back reluctantly and looked to Amy for help. The little woman avoided his eyes. Chuck pulled him to his feet and kicked open the rear doors. He pushed the recovering ex-zombie out and jumped down after him. Again taking hold of Sam by one arm, he began to march him over to where the men were working.
“Unknown variables closing on your six,” one of the soldiers said, his voice muffled by his respirator.
Sudden Death: A Zombie Novel Page 44
