95 Million Killers

by Gary Weston

  Doctor Delano said, 'It looks like the possum numbers are building back up again.'

  Harrison agreed. 'Which means we need to find an answer as soon as possible. Lets get thinking.'

  * * *

  'We can make some big money if we find the pack.' Jonah Pike rolled another joint and lit it then carried on cleaning his gun.

  'We can also make big bloody trouble for ourselves, bro.' Wayne Richards knew his seventeen year old cousin usually got strange ideas when he was stoned. 'The army sees us, they'll be shooting us, not bloody possums.'

  'You chicken' Cus?'

  'Hell, no. But I got a head on my shoulders and I wanna keep it there.'

  'Place will be crawlin' with hunters by now,' said Mitch Ripley. 'Possums will be long gone from there.'

  'Like I said before,' said Pike. 'We can be there in half an hour. We either bag a few or we don't.'

  'If I drive us there, you mean,' said Ripley. 'You two got no licenses.'

  'We'll split the gas,' said Pike. 'Oh, come on. Better than hanging around this dump.'

  'Hey,' said Ripley. 'You don't like my pad, piss off back to your momma.'

  'Just sayin', Cus. We gonna make a buck, we gotta get going.'

  'I guess I could use a few bucks,' said Richards. 'Lets go.'

  Chapter 82

  The sirens cried out, piercing the cold night air, and there in the ditch was the upturned motorcycle. Paramedic Joyce Taylor almost rolled down the ditch and looked suspiciously up at the surrounding trees. 'Army protection?'

  Ambo driver Tod Timms said, 'They can't be everywhere, Joyce.'

  'Okay. Broken left tibia. Ribs. Not a lot of blood. Always a good sign. Hey. Can you hear me?'

  'Hrrrmm!'

  'You can hear me. Can you feel your legs?'

  'Ooooharrgh!'

  'Right. I got bored with your conversation at Hrrrmm! We need to get you in the ambulance. We are going to fit you with a neck brace, onto the stretcher and off to a place full of sexy nurses. Want to meet them?'

  'Oohherergrt.''

  'I'd like to meet a few of them myself.'

  Timms said, 'If ever I need an ambulance, I'll check the roster to make sure you ain't on it.'

  'Piss off. I'm being nice here.'

  'Ooagher. Bike.'

  'In a worse off state than you, by the look of it. Hope you got insurance.'

  'Oooohah!'

  'In that case, that might hurt.'

  They were halfway up the embankment when the first one dropped out of the trees. Taylor kicked out at the big possum, ignoring the cramp in her lower back, and heaved the stretcher up to the road.

  'Not much further,' said Taylor, panting. 'The worst part of this is my partner's driving. If you survive that, you can get through anything.'

  'Cute,' said Timms, trying not to drop the patient as he scrambled with the stretcher, slipping on the damp grass.

  'My middle name,' said Taylor. 'Not much more to go.'

  They plopped out of the surrounding trees. No other word would do. Plop. Possums were plopping. Taylor and Timms were close to the back of the ambulance.

  'This isn't good,' said Timms.

  'Slow. No sudden movements.'

  'Is that something you Googled?'

  'My sexual preferences are none of your business. Big fat bastards, these possums.'

  Timms said, 'I think we should throw our new best friend in the back and get the hell out of here.'

  'Sounds good in principle. Ready?'

  'On three. Three.'

  The biker was hurled into the ambulance, and Taylor and Timms went to get in. They almost made it.

  Chapter 83

  Mitch Ripley parked on the grass verge at the side of the road. What little moonlight there was didn't reveal much more than the silhouettes of the treetops. Heavy black clouds gave the night an ominous feeling of foreboding, and Ripley was already regretting being talked into an ill conceived venture. Jonah Pike and Wayne Richards were filling the car with smoke from the joints they were smoking, and Ripley was already feeling the effects from it. He opened the door and the fog dissipated.

  From the trunk of the car, Pike and Richards were retrieving the guns and the torches. They loaded the guns and stuffed their pockets with ammo. Pike passed his spare gun to Ripley.

  'Leave the real shooting to me and Wayne,' said Pike. 'Just have this in case one of the buggers decides to have a go.'

  'Fair enough. Can you even see straight?'

  'No worries, Cus. If it's in front of me, I can hit it.'

  'There's a bit of a path here,' said Richards.

  They turned the torches on and Pike led the way, a nervous Ripley taking up the rear. The path meandered through the trees for several hundred yards. In a small clearing, they stopped to look around.

  'We can go that way,' said Richards.

  'Doesn't seem to be any possums about,' said Ripley. All he wanted to do was to get back to his car and take off.

  'We'll go a bit further,' said Pike. 'Give it half an hour and if we get nothing, we'll bugger off.'

  Richards took the lead, having to force his way through tough undergrowth. He found a narrow path and shone the torch along it. The trees thinned out a little so they moved on. Richards suddenly stopped, put his finger to his lips and pointed at a tree.

  'Mine,' whispered Pike.

  Richards moved aside and Pike took careful aim at the possum staring at him. Frozen in the glare from the torch, the animal was an easy target. The gun went off like a thunderclap and the possum dropped to the ground. It was a clean shot.

  Pike proudly held up the dead animal and from his pocket pulled out a large plastic rubbish sack and stuffed the possum in it. With luck, they would fill the sack and claim the reward money. Encouraged, they continued deeper into the trees, bagging another nine possums in twenty minutes.

  Pike was reloading his gun and enjoying his night when Ripley shouted, 'Watch out.'

  The speed with which the possum flew at Pike was surprising, but Richards still managed to wound it in mid air. It fell at Pike's feet and Richards finished it off.

  'You two stay here if you want,' said Ripley. 'I'm out of here.'

  'We're gonna have to shoot our way out, mate,' said Pike.

  'Oh, crap.' Ripley slowly turned around. The branches sagged under the weight of the animals. He took a shot but missed. As Richards and Pike shot the possums, Ripley ran along the path, tripping up over a tree root. He was immediately buried in a living carpet of fur.

  Unable to risk shooting them, Richards and Pike tried to pull the creatures off the screaming Ripley with their bare hands. Ripley pushed himself up with his hands, and he stared at his friends with his eyeless sockets. He screamed continuously as the possums attacked from all sides.

  Richards also screamed when a possum severed the artery in his neck, his blood spraying everywhere. Pike was down on the ground, fighting off a dozen animals, losing the battle. More possums came out of the bush and soon the screaming stopped. One possum left the pack, carrying a human right hand in its mouth, disappearing into the trees with its prize to eat at its leisure.

  Chapter 84

  'Order. Order.' Mayor Bendicot could see the meeting getting out of hand. He had two security guards at the door instead of the usual one.

  'I said it last time, Bendicot,' ranted Nigel Landers. 'We need to get as many people as possible armed and out there killing the bastards.'

  'Mr Landers. We have full military protection for the town. Leave it to the professionals.'

  'They didn't prevent three seventeen year old boys being ripped to pieces.'

  'Because they broke the curfew and went off into the bush, stoned out of their skulls and badly prepared,' said Bendicot. 'Had they obeyed the law, and not gone off with guns like you're advocating we all do, they would still be alive today.'

  'And if you had backed me up and organised a few hundred of us to sort the possums out, the possums wouldn't have been around to kill
the boys in the first place.'

  Opinion was divided on this and both factions made their views heard. Two men were close to fighting and the security guards had to intervene.

  'Please. Just calm down, everyone,' Bendicot said. 'I feel just as bad about those boys dying last night as anyone else. I don't want to lose anyone else to the possums. At the same time I understand your frustration and desire to get stuck in yourselves. Perhaps there is a way for you to do that.'

  'Like what?' said Landers.

  'Just an idea. Why not have some of you patrolling the streets, not on foot, though, looking out for possums. You will be extra eyes for the army.'

  There was a murmur of consent for the idea.

  'Armed?' a man asked.

  'No. Not inside the town perimeter. Unarmed, in vehicles, observation only. See any possums, you call the army in. That will be a big help and nobody will get hurt.'

  An old lady called out, 'And nobody hurts any pussies.'

  'Nobody would touch your pussy, missus,' cried the wag.

  The ripple of laughter broke the tension.

  Bendicot played to his strength. 'Mr Landers. I'll organise a meeting with Major Burns to formalise a plan. I'd like you to be the chief coordinator and liaise with the army. Are you up for the challenge?'

  Landers was speechless for a moment. He liked the title of chief coordinator. It sat well with his ego. 'I'll certainly consider the position, Mr Mayor.'

  'Excellent, Mr Landers.' Bendicot smiled and thought, “keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”

  Chapter 85

  The two men shook hands and their smiles showed the irony of the situation. Max Harrison said, 'An unexpected pleasure, Prime Minister.'

  'Which tells you how serious this thing is getting.' Vincent Carlisle tried to hide his embarrassment at being at Harrison's Genetics Ltd.

  'Sorry we haven't come back to you with anything like a plan, Prime Minister.'

  'Call me Vincent. Look. Max. I'm asking a lot of you to come up with anything.'

  'Especially as a non believer in genetics.'

  'I've never said that. I'm simply concerned that the mistakes from the last time aren't repeated. We don't want to make a bad situation even worse.'

  'In that we agree, Vincent.'

  'How's my man getting along?'

  'Angus? Out of his depth with genetics, but a fund of knowledge about possums. But it's up to us geneticists to come up with ideas so that Angus can give us the benefit of his experience. Nice chap, though. Come and meet the team.'

  Doctor Stephanie Delano and Doctor Maria Draper were introduced to the Prime Minister. Professor Morton just nodded politely at him.

  'This your whole team?' Carlisle asked.

  'Quality not quantity, Vincent,' said Harrison. 'Don't be fooled by their beauty. They are two of the best geneticists in the business. Once a plan is devised we have a dozen others we can bring in to make things happen. Please. Take a seat.'

  'Thanks. I won't beat about the bush. We are experiencing several attacks in the lower North Island. Six fatalities in the last four days that we know about, plus other pack sightings.'

  'Patch Creek again?' Morton asked.

  'Not as yet, but they could turn up there. We are not sure at this stage if the incidents are from the same pack or separate packs.'

  'How far apart are the incidents?' Harrison asked.

  'I have a map with the sightings and attacks marked on it.' From his briefcase Carlisle took out a map and laid it flat on the table. 'Three teenage boys got killed here. They'd gone out to shoot possums.'

  Draper said, 'Looks like the possums got their revenge.'

  'It was a real mess from all accounts,' said Carlisle. 'About forty miles north east of there a motorcyclist crashed. The ambulance crew were killed by possums trying to rescue him.'

  'My God,' said Delano, crossing herself.

  'The Biker was safe in the ambulance. Across here, this is where the Merchant woman was killed.'

  Draper said, 'It would have been poetic justice if her pig of a husband had been eaten by possums instead of her.'

  'You're possibly right. Along this road was a slip. The road crew saw a large number of possums in the bush in this area. Too many to be regular possums.'

  'Anyone hurt?' Harrison asked.

  'Only a possum. Shot by a corporal. A chopper with thermal imaging equipment was called in but found nothing.'

  Morton studied the map. 'It's a fairly tight cluster. Possums could possibly cover that much ground in a night, just about. My guess is that there are at least two separate packs.'

  Harrison said, 'Maybe more than two?'

  Morton shrugged. 'Possibly. Bank on at least two, though.'

  The Prime Minister leaned forwards with his forearms on the table. 'I'll admit to not having a clue what to do. Traditional methods are hardly making a dent in their numbers. People are getting understandably restless. I expect to see more incidents like the three boys when people take things in their own hands.'

  'And you're starting to warm to genetics, Vincent,' said Harrison, unable to keep the wry smile off his lips.

  'I'll take anything that bloody works, Max. If there is a genetic solution, one that will really work, it will be fully funded by the government. Anything and everything you need, you'll get.'

  Delano said, 'It will be hard convincing the public.'

  Carlisle shook his head. 'No it won't. It'll be hard convincing me. Convince me, I'll get everybody else on board.' He stood up to leave. 'We're running out of time, people. Pretty soon we'll reach a tipping point impossible to come back from. That's if we haven't reached that point already. If you can come up with something that works, you'll be saving New Zealand. Good luck.'

  Chapter 86

  '....we have Prime Minister Vincent Carlisle with us tonight. Thanks for agreeing to be interviewed, Mr Carlisle.'

  'My pleasure, Andrew.'

  'Mr Carlisle. I'm sure it comes as no surprise that a majority of the population oppose taking the genetic route to find an answer to the problem. In fact according to our survey, seventy nine percent are vehemently opposed to it.'

  'Andrew. First of all let me assure your viewers I share their concerns regarding using genetics to solve a problem created by genetics. But I would be failing in my responsibilities if I didn't explore all avenues open mindedly.'

  'Can you assure the sceptics out there that no genetic tampering has been sanctioned by the government as of this moment?'

  'Categorically yes I can, Andrew. I had a meeting with Max Harrison....'

  'Harrison Genetics Ltd.'

  'Yes. Mr Harrison has a small but talented team working on a solution to the problem. No definitive plan has been proposed by them as yet. They're just kicking ideas around at the moment. I expressed my opinion that any plan they come up with would be put to exhaustive scrutiny by independent experts, both here and overseas, before any trials would be undertaken. If, and that is a huge if, they come up with something, and the government accepts it, it will be fully funded and monitored independently.'

  'All this sounds very time consuming, Mr Carlisle. Things are getting worse by the day.'

  'Let me put my cards on the table, Andrew. It's a bloody nightmare, to be honest with you. We are looking at several alternative methods of finding a solution to the problem. There are no quick fixes.'

  'In the meantime, people are being eaten alive.'

  'A slight exaggeration there, if you don't mind me saying so,' said Carlisle thinking of the plunging tourism numbers and Trish Markham's succulent thighs. 'We have had a few regrettable incidents, Andrew. I'd like to have this opportunity to ask the public to take sensible precautions. Keep out of the bush at night, or, unless properly authorised to go there, during the day also. Obey the curfews where they apply. Don't put yourselves in dangerous situations. If we let the police and the armed forces deal with it, we'll see far less fatalities and injuries.'

  'Lets hope th
at saves lives, Mr Carlisle. One final question. Nobody disputes this is possibly the biggest single problem New Zealand has ever had to face. There may not even be a solution to the problem. If we fail to get rid of the possums, what happens next?'

  'Andrew. Failure is not an option.'

  'Thank you, Prime Minister Vincent Carlisle.'

  Chapter 87

  'Oh, Angus....'

  'Hear me out, Mr Carlisle. I think they are on to something.'

  Carlisle sighed. 'Possum mutated disease?'

  'One way of looking at it, I suppose. Instead of trying to alter the possums, we modify their most common disease. Bovine tuberculosis. Harrison seems to think it's possible. Make it even more virulent and potent, inject a few possums and Bob's your Aunty.'

  'You met my Aunty Bob?'

  'What? You have an Aunty Bob?'

  'Great legs, lousy dress sense. But tell me, Angus. Assuming there's some potential in this idea, what are the time frames?'

  'Well, realistically, total eradication between ten and twenty years.'

  'Ooooh! That fast.'

  'I knew you would be impressed.'

  'Do me a favour, look up the word facetious. You see, all the time this possum disease is doing its thing, people are cowering in their homes, wondering if a super pack of flesh eating possums are about to smash their way in to eat them.'

  'It's a start.'

  'You think?'

  'We're doing our best, Prime Minister.'

  'That's your best is it? I'm supposed to sell the public something that introduces a new disease into the country, which might possibly do the job in the next twenty years.'

  'Well....'

  'Not going to happen, Angus. Go back to your drawing board, wipe off the naughts and crosses games you've clearly been playing and do what the tax payer pays you to do.'

  'But...'

  'Goodnight, Angus.'

  Chapter 88

  'You hear that crap,' said Charlie Matai. 'Failure is not an option. Want another beer?'