Salby Damned

by Ian D. Moore

  Tom and Holly were still full of chatter as they washed and changed into makeshift pyjamas. Evie stayed with them and tucked them into their beds. She then told them a story of days long past, brave men, and fierce dragons, and she made sure that it had a happy ending.

  *******

  Rough Justice

  Assembled at the main gate, they loaded up the dozer with weapons and checked the IR goggles one last time. They would all leave in the huge steel-tracked mover, to plough their way through abandoned cars and scout the nearby terrain, searching for survivors that may need assistance.

  The huge, rolling metal gate creaked as the electric motors whined into life, pulling it sideways to reveal the road entrance outside.

  With some precision manoeuvres around the resident Challenger Two tank, they made it to the main road. They slid around to the left, right track forward and left track backward–a standard procedure—turning the heavy machine on its axis, engaged the tracks forward and began to rumble towards the first of the abandoned vehicles.

  The cars and small vans were no match for the wide bladed, ten-foot high shovel on the front of the dozer. Ramming them at a moderate speed to provide inertia, Nathan veered right and left, pushing the vehicles into the verges. He created a metal corridor along the main road, stopping frequently to scan the surrounding tree line with the night vision goggles in case the noise had alerted anyone to their presence.

  There was a crunching of metal on metal and the squeal of rubber on road, as the dozer forced obstructions sideways. It was hard to stay detached at the spectacle of the bodies inside the vehicles; people had almost made it to safety but had been overcome by the now long gone deadheads.

  Even the diesel fumes of the monolithic mover couldn’t stifle the occasional acrid waft of rotting flesh from the dead. After pushing forward, Nathan rumbled the dozer to a stop. Cutting the rattling, low-toned engine, the silence reclaimed the night. He looked out.

  The rest of his team fanned out right and left, but standing to the rear of the cab upon the solid steel chassis of the dozer, Nathan saw Chris drop to one knee, levelling his high-powered sniper rifle.

  Chris scanned the trees at the verge to the front. Seeing the movement, Susan followed his lead, dropping down and bringing her weapon to bear in the same direction. She was unsure of what he had seen but wanted to be ready.

  Chris turned, signalling silence and motioned towards the trees up ahead. He'd heard something that had him curious. Nathan slipped quietly down from the dozer, coming up alongside his friend. All three of them were now opposite the source of the sound, each with weapons raised. They stayed still, listening as the noise carried through the still night air.

  “Lay still, bitch!” the voice hissed.

  A muffled crack, a skin-on-skin slapping sound, and the muffled scream of a girl or woman followed.

  “Hold her down, hold her! I’m gonna have me some pussy. Keep her still, damn it, can’t you do anything right?” said a male voice, snarling at the accomplice.

  A whimper was followed by another dull thud and the sound of tearing material. It echoed through the trees. Chris made eye contact with his two team members. Silence, his eyes urged. He used hand signals to issue information in order to maintain the element of surprise.

  Clear but unspoken orders: twenty metres ahead, one break left, the other right. Both Nathan and Susan knew what they had to do.

  They could see the group of three. The dark figure of a man straddled the female victim as the second offender held her arms at the wrists to prevent her from resisting. The powerful fist to the girl’s face had split her lower lip and a warm trickle of blood pooled at her mouth.

  The girl bucked as a strong hand tore apart the thin top she wore, popping the buttons and ripping the flimsy fabric. Her resistance earned another strong slap to the left of her face.

  “No, No, Noooooo! Somebody helllppppp meeeeee!!” she screamed, frightened of what she knew was about to happen.

  “Quiet, little bitch! Wriggle, go on wriggle, I like it when you do that,” the man hissed at her.

  His mouth was inches from her face, spittle flecking her skin. Savage hands tugged at the bra she wore, ripping it free and leaving red welts at the sides of her body. He groped at her breasts now exposed to the open air, roughly squeezing the nipples and rubbing so hard that the imprint of his fingers remained in the soft, white, fleshy mounds.

  He pushed backwards on all fours over her, pulling at the belt of his jeans as the accomplice leaned forwards, biting the girl’s breasts while he held her wrists.

  Pulling the belt free, he popped the button of his jeans, hooking his thumb over to pull them and his underwear free of his waist, before yanking at the girl’s elastic skinny fit leggings, splitting the seams in his haste to remove them.

  With eager fingers, he pulled at the flimsy panties she wore, lifting her pelvis from the floor before the material gave way, such was the force of his attack. He threw her underwear over his shoulder as evil, malicious eyes settled on his prize.

  He forced his fingers inside her as she writhed and bucked, unable to break free of the grip of the second assailant and trapped by the weight of him upon her legs.

  “Squirm, bitch! Squirm,” he spat. His mouth was close enough to her ear that she could feel the heat of him against her cheek. She could smell the stale, rancid odour of his breath and it repulsed her.

  “Are you a virgin?” he whispered.

  She screamed and then turned her head quickly, biting into his lower lip as hard as she could, feeling her teeth penetrate the flesh and tear it.

  He yanked his head away and followed through with a hard blow to her head, rendering her almost unconscious. He kicked at his restraining jeans, forcing them downwards and positioning himself over the barely conscious, almost naked girl.

  With his arms on either side of her head, he lowered his body down, trying to force entry with forward motions of his pelvis. Chris advanced from the bushes first, levelling the rifle at the accomplice so that he could be seen clearly.

  “Army, Stop! Don’t move and you will not be harmed!” Chris shouted, using the standard verbal military warning.

  “Fuck off! I’m busy!” was the snarled reply from the perpetrator, astride the young girl.

  “He’s got a fuckin’ gun, Dobbo. Fuck that, no way, man!” shrieked the accomplice.

  He stayed perfectly still as instructed, eyes riveted on the formidable outline of Chris, his grasp upon the girl now waning.

  Nathan and Susan approached from left and right. Both men looked around, realising that they were outnumbered. The attacker pushed himself to his knees, still straddling the woman.

  Chris walked forwards, flicking the butt of the rifle hard into the right side of the attacker's face, sending him sprawling to the right side of the victim. The soldiers were now witness to the level of violence used against the poor girl.

  “Yuh, you can’t do that. It’s assault, we’ve got rights,” the would-be rapist blabbed, holding his head as he lay on the floor.

  Susan approached, bringing her boot into the stomach of the man hard several times, as she shouted at him in succession, punctuating each word with a kick.

  “Don’t. Treat. Women. Like. That!”

  The final boot found the man’s still exposed genitals, making him scream before doubling up in pain, spasmodic retching consuming him.

  The accomplice, seeing the treatment of his partner, let go of the girl’s arms, which lay limp where they rested. He sat back on his bottom, pushing himself backwards in a reverse crawl, stopping when he met a thorny bramble.

  Susan bent to examine the girl, motioning her back to consciousness. The girl moaned softly as her eyes fluttered open and closed, the blow to her head leaving her partially concussed. Unsure of what had happened, she struck out at the sergeant.

  “Easy, easy, lass, we’re Army and here to help you. Can you move?”

  “Ah ... uh ... yuh, but, I think so,” she
attempted.

  She sat up, looking around, and her face contorted into rage as her eyes fixed on the vile man who'd attacked her. She moved her legs, pulled them up, and her hand searched the ground in an arc down her side. She gripped a small piece of broken wood, and with every ounce of remaining strength, she stabbed it into the attacker’s cheek.

  “Aheeeeeeeee! You Bitch!! You’re gonna pay for that!” he screamed.

  He rolled to the right, out of her reach, pulling at the embedded stick. Susan kicked into his back as he rolled, to help him on his way and to ensure he was out of reach of the girl.

  She took the girl's hand to help her stand. Allowing time for her to pull her torn clothes back on, Susan took off her jacket and draped it around the girl's shoulders. She ushered the girl away, turning in time to see two sets of flayed, bramble torn arms reach through the perimeter hedge and grab the second of the rapists.

  Chris raced towards the screaming man, trying to grab at his kicking feet, but couldn’t get a grip before powerful arms dragged him through the hedge. Inch-long, razor sharp thorns tore into his receding body, creating dark red patches of blood.

  “Nooooooooo! Help me. Please help me. Please help me. Arrrrggghhhhh!” the young man screamed as he was finally dragged through the brambles.

  Two deadheads had grabbed him, and they wasted no time biting into the bloodstained arms and legs of the desperately wriggling youth.

  As the young man died, he felt lumps of his flesh being torn away as he tried to break free from first one and then the other. He felt pressure on his abdomen and looked down to see the huge hand of the infected male embedded deep inside him. Fear and panic made him scream hysterically as the hand probed and pulled at his intestines.

  Before the viral infection could render him unable to feel any longer, the deadheads had torn out his stomach, intestinal tract, and one of his kidneys, blood oozing out of the gaping hole below. Mercifully, the virus claimed him just moments before the fatal injuries took his life.

  Nathan and Chris turned and raced to the second injured attacker. They hauled him to his feet. The two deadheads had ploughed through the thicket hedge, impervious to any pain from the needle-sharp thorns.

  They ran towards them with surprising speed, intent on more killing. One on either side, Nathan and Chris pulled him to his feet, dragging him along, but were forced to let go as the deadheads gained ground. Susan tugged at the shocked girl’s arm, pulled her towards the sleeping dozer, and pushed her up into the cab. Nathan and Chris were not far behind.

  “Push the big green button, get it started!” Susan yelled to the young girl, dropping back down to cover her colleagues. There were now five deadheads in pursuit.

  Since when did they hunt in packs?

  She levelled the rifle and fired at the nearest, tracking the bullet as it struck the infected male, shattering the top of his skull and catapulting his body backwards. Chris and Nathan turned again, this time dropping to one knee and each identifying a target. They fired within a split second of each other, two bodies skidding into the turned earth in response.

  They are getting close now. We have to move.

  “Don’t just sit there, you fuckwit. Move! Move Now!” Nathan shouted at the still floored rapist.

  They tried to provide covering fire as the man attempted to stand, pulling up his jeans as he began running, but the two deadheads were almost on top of him and gaining fast.

  His fate was sealed when the unbuttoned jeans slipped back down his legs, tying his ankles. The inertia of his running took his legs from under him and he fell, face first into the dirt.

  The deadheads behind him wasted no time in overpowering him. The man rolled to his back, kicking both legs and punching, in a valiant effort to fend them off. It was the female deadhead, whose bite found his throat, tearing at his Adam’s apple and ripping out his voice box; he could scream no longer.

  The rapist grabbed at his trousers, trying to free his ankles while bucking and lashing out. He managed to pull himself away and run towards the dozer, gargling and spluttering through the hole in his torn throat, though he could no longer feel the pain of the horrific injury.

  Through their scopes, Nathan and Chris watched the attack. The deadhead girl still chewed on the throat of the man as he retreated. They had tried to shoot the pursuing duo without taking out the victim but had not been successful. It was too late, though, for as he ran, each footfall pumped the virus around his system.

  He could no longer feel the pain of the bite, no longer feel his feet hit the ground as he ran, and no longer feel fear as he looked at the two kneeling figures pointing their weapons directly at him.

  Susan placed the crosshairs on the injured man’s nose and pulled back on the trigger, not waiting to witness the snap back of the running man’s head as the 7.62mm round exploded through the back of his skull. She reloaded quickly, targeting the next of the attackers, but Nathan and Chris already had them in their sights.

  Two short, sharp cracks rang out in the night, and two more of the infected would no longer live to see sunrise.

  “Move, move, move! Back to the dozer now, let’s go, let’s go!” Chris shouted.

  All three climbed up onto the huge machine before taking up covering positions as Nathan squeezed into the cab. He moved the young girl sideways to enable him to operate the controls.

  The girl had managed to start the rumbling engine, and Nathan engaged opposite tracks to turn the dozer around on itself before pushing down on the throttle, causing it to jerk forwards slightly. His two accomplices clung on while he manoeuvred the heavy beast.

  They raised their weapons and fired short, automatic bursts at more approaching deadheads. It seemed like a long, bumpy ride back. At one point, Nathan needed to place the shaking hand of the young girl on the forward lever. He told her to keep it there as he grabbed his own rifle to take out assailant deadheads intent on over-running the dozer.

  The welcome sight of the gates materialised in front of them, and the guards on stag put down covering fire to allow them to enter. They rumbled through and brought the huge machine to a halt.

  Susan explained what had happened to the girl, and the guards helped her down and escorted her to the medical facility for help with her wounds. Sergeant Wilkes retrieved her jacket, offering a reassuring smile as the medical staff guided her away.

  For Nathan, Chris, and Susan it had been one hell of a skirmish, and they de-kitted the dozer in silence; they would talk about the incident eventually, to each other, perhaps over a few cool ones later on, but for now, there were other things that needed doing.

  *******

  Patience

  It was dark when Brian’s eyes fluttered open. He rolled to his right, feeling the warm, soft skin of Meriam's body next to his, still in the clutches of sleep. He brushed his hand over her navel and upwards between her breasts, before gently pulling her towards him as she woke.

  She smiled, looking into his gentle, knowing eyes with an overwhelming sense of feeling safe with him. As it was dark, they rose and dressed quietly, intent on some food from the cookhouse.

  Stepping out into the communal corridor, with its floor coated in dark red plastic and walls an off-white colour, they turned towards the stairs, just in time to see Colin Snape pushing the stairwell door wide, slightly out of breath after the two-storey climb.

  “Ahhhh, there’s my girl,” he said, seeing Meriam and pecking her cheek.

  Brian just about managed to resist the urge to punch his boss, and Meriam just about resisted the urge to move away in disgust. For now, the deception had to hold, at least until they’d informed the colonel, and that was to be soon.

  “Meriam, I need a word this evening, just you,” he said, with a dismissive glance at Brian.

  “We were just going for some food,” she countered, her heart beating double time.

  “No rush, I can wait until you get back. Be sure to knock on my door when you’re done. I’ll be waiting,” Snape sai
d, registering his authority for Brian’s benefit.

  Snape's appearance changed the mood, and they took the stairs slowly until sure Snape was out of earshot.

  “Do you know what he wants?” Brian asked.

  “Besides the obvious?” she countered sharply, before realising her tone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. He gives me the creeps.”

  “It’s fine. I know it’s not easy for you,” he said, squeezing her hand gently.

  “He has this crazy plan to break out of the camp. I think we should inform the colonel or the major as soon as we can. Colin reckons it’ll be all ready to go in two days.”

  “You’re joking, right? And you’re supposed to go with him, is that right?” Brian asked, as the penny dropped.

  “Honey, I had to convince him that I wanted to be with him in order to get him to leave the room so that you could get in. It’s you that I want to be with, Brian.

  “Hey, hey, come on now, no tears. He’s not worth them. I want you with me, Meriam. It sickens me to see you have to do this. Please, just be careful. Who knows what the little prick is capable of.”

  On reaching the cookhouse, they found it buzzing with activity with many military personnel around. While it wasn’t unusual to see shift changes of soldiers, it was a first to see quite so many. Brian and Meriam watched the movements as they ate, occasionally commenting but mostly in silence, each with thoughts of their own.

  Brian had reservations about Meriam placing herself at the whim of Snape, unsure of what the man might be capable of and keen to alert the base commanders to his plan as soon as possible. The actions of the weasel-like executive, skulking around the base for the last two days gathering information, had aroused the suspicions of another member of the base staff in the form of the young corporal.