“We don’t have a spaceship,” Jamie said.
“We don’t need to do it from space,” Fatty said, rolling his eyes. “We could use a helicopter. Or an airplane. Something like that.”
He hadn’t stopped bellyaching since they’d left the Weapon Research Division. Jamie knew he was talking rubbish. So did Fatty. But he couldn’t help himself. It was how he dealt with stress. He needed to unload on someone. Jamie was his unwilling accomplice, the victim of his mildly irritating utterances.
“We’re getting close,” Jamie said.
That’ll shut him up.
It worked like he’d muttered the words of a powerful incantation. His friend would be quiet now. If there was one thing that would silence him it was his unrelenting fear of harm coming to his person. In truth, they weren’t close enough for the Rages to overhear Fatty’s protestations but it was always in his nature to err on the side of caution.
They came down most of the floors in an elevator. It was smooth and easy to use. It never ceased feeling strange to Jamie to be in such a small room and for it to slide up and down. But that’s what it did. He could feel it moving, but each time the doors opened, he always expected to see the same floor they’d gotten on in the first place. It always surprised him when it wasn’t.
They took the stairs for the final two floors. The elevator dinged when it came to a stop. Jamie didn’t want to draw the Rage’s attention any more than they already had. They crept sideways down the stairs to the final floor, taking one step at a time.
The Rage could be inside already. It could be anywhere. Who knew how far into the facility it might have wandered.
Jamie held the short sword in both hands, prepared to bring it up and around at head height. He had plenty of experience when it came to fighting these things. He had no idea how to fight aliens but he knew how to kill these blasted things. It was what he had been raised to do.
Jamie stood with his back to the wall. Fatty automatically took position on the opposite end of the step. As Fatty peered behind Jamie, Jamie peered behind Fatty. There was nothing there. Only another hallway leading to who knew where.
Fatty shook his head too. Nothing behind Jamie. Jamie didn’t need to see with his own eyes. He trusted Fatty. Jamie took a second, then calmly, quickly, stepped across the corridor to the other side. A pincer attack, coming from both directions, was prone to be more effective than them both coming from the same origin point.
Fatty took up Jamie’s former position. They had their backs to the wall. If something came through the corridor—an undead thing—they would let it pass, before proceeding to hack it to pieces from behind, or the side if it was accompanied by friends.
Jamie strained his senses. Listening, smelling. Sometimes he swore he could taste them. He listened for the rustling of clothing, for the clatter of jaw bones, or the chattering of teeth, or the dragging of a limp leg behind a louder second one. Or the soft spattering of saliva on the floor.
All signals that gave a Rage away. Any of which could save Jamie and Fatty’s life. He listened but heard none of these things. Every few minutes, Jamie checked the odd black box at his waist for messages, followed by a glance at their rear. They didn’t want the creature to fall on them from behind.
Ready and fully prepared, they hoped they would never have to take action.
They waited.
32.
DONNY HAD finally gotten the hang of the gearstick. He had to press the mysterious third pedal before moving it. Otherwise, the stick would not move. The car still shuddered, slowing to a crawl each time he made the transition. He couldn’t go very fast in the Vehicle Service Centre anyway, but he could drive around the other vehicles. There was more than enough space between them.
He needed to get a move on or else he was going to be late. He let out a calming breath and turned the steering wheel, approaching the wide front doors. His legs and arms already ached from clenching his muscles so hard. Driving wasn’t easy. He didn’t understand how this was meant to be fun.
He got to the wide doors and was about to climb out to press a random button somewhere when the light above the door flashed green and began to open.
Really gotta love electric doors.
The doors—thankfully—opened on an adjacent mountainside to those infiltrating via the hole. He should be free and clear. As the doors opened, it was like the curtains opening on a wonderful theatre production, the vista yawning before him. How he’d missed it, being cooped up inside.
The unrelenting glowing ball of molten sun blazed white in the perfect blue azure of the open sky. Too bright. Donny instinctively raised his hand to the shade and pulled it down. Ingenious.
Donny pressed the gas pedal and moved the car forward. Slowly, carefully. Out into the welcoming arms of the desert. No sooner was he outside than the doors began to shut behind him. As they did, a segment of the mountain slid into place to hide it. If Donny had been passing by he would never have known a doorway was there. He depressed the mysterious pedal and moved the stick into second gear.
“Here we go,” Donny said.
He pressed the gas pedal and the car lurched forward, bunny hopping a few yards before increasing speed. As the engine roared, Donny depressed the mysterious pedal and shifted up again. This was fun. He pressed the pedal to the metal. Hey, that was what his father used to say! “Pedal to the metal!” and he let himself feel the rush his father must have experienced all those years ago, before the Fall, before the Rages and Reavers, before the end of the world.
He was free.
33.
DR. BECK panted as he closed the final few yards, exiting the highest mountainside door. The wind was strong up here. Warm, but still nice. He looked out on the greatest view—to him—in the world. The Great Salt Plains and the endless blue sky connected by an indistinct white bar on the horizon.
Sometimes the two halves of something could be indistinguishable, even for those looking for it.
And there, rushing away from the City like a bat out of hell was Donny in. . . The Mustang. Of course. It was his personal favourite too.
Dr. Beck couldn’t help smiling. At least someone was having fun during all this drama. He wished it was him out there now, letting the wind rip through his rapidly thinning hair, the driving seat acting like a time machine, transporting him back to the vibrancy of his youth.
He crept toward the cliff edge and peered over the side. He clenched his eyes shut, the earth spinning beneath him, and moved back. He’d seen the Rages down there, meandering. It was enough to know they were still present down there.
He got into position and placed his own charge in the dirt. Now all he had to do was wait for Donny to lay and set off the first charge. He squinted at the car heading rapidly away from him.
“Don’t forget you’ve got a job to do, friend,” he said out loud.
He waited.
34.
LUCY DIDN’T blink. She didn’t want to miss a thing. She had a much better view of what was happening in the bowels of the City than anyone else. She could see everything from every possible vantage point.
The Rages had drifted closer to the hole in the City’s base that led deeper into the City, but they hadn’t yet begun to travel in that direction with any conviction. Things were, for now, stable.
She waited.
35.
IN HIS mind, Donny knew exactly where he was. He knew exactly where he wanted to place the charges. He’d always had an extremely good sense of direction and never got lost. He glanced in the mirror at the mountain behind him, where he’d come from. Then he checked the dials. He’d figured one was for speed, the other for revs. There was another number too. This one counted how far he’d travelled.
“Oops,” he said, slamming the brakes.
He’d travelled too far. He had no concept of how fast this car could really go. He’d been enjoying himself too much. He’d overshot his target by two miles! He’d covered the distance in almost no time at all!
He turned the wheel and made a U-turn—another of his father’s common story phrases—and headed back in the direction he’d come from. He kept a close eye on the dial recording his distance and stopped when he got to about half a mile out. He hit the brakes, kicking up a cloud of white dust, like a thin wisp of smoke.
He got out and used the most accurate distance measuring instrument he owned. His mind. Yes, he was about half a mile away, he decided.
He took one charge from the passenger seat and set it up on the desert floor. Set the timer for twenty minutes. He paused. With his new mode of transportation, he didn’t need to wait anywhere near that long. He set the timer to five minutes and joyfully hopped back in the car.
He pulled the Mustang to a stop two hundred yards away and climbed out. Picked up the second charge but didn’t assign a timer to it yet. He would wait for the signal from Dr. Beck.
He had a countdown for the first timer running in his mind.
He waited.
36.
A NOISE. Finally. There it was.
Like cloth being torn, slowly, gently, every few seconds.
Jamie didn’t need to look around the corner to know what it was. He didn’t want to inform the Rage of a meal so close by.
Fatty turned to Jamie, eyes wide, questioning. Then he picked up on the sound too. He needed confirmation from Jamie, who nodded back at him. Yes, one of them was coming. Fatty swallowed and tightened his grip on his axe. Licked his lips, still leaving them dry.
Jamie hoped the explosion would come soon. It would be a real problem if they had to engage this Rage. It could screech and scream, garnering the attention of more of the things. Within moments they could very well find themselves overrun.
37.
LUCY LEANED forward, centimetres from the screen. Her hands, sweaty, rubbed together in nervous anticipation. She could tell by both Jamie and Fatty’s stances that they were aware of the creature heading their way. Their weapons were raised and ready.
She could hardly breathe.
38.
JAMIE WAS certain it was only one Rage. He hadn’t heard any telltale traits suggesting there were more.
Sweat rolled down Fatty’s round face.
The creature was getting closer. Jamie’s grip grew tighter around the hilt of his sword.
39.
5. . .
4. . .
3. . .
2. . .
1. . .
Donny covered his ears.
40.
BOOM!
Donny’s first charge exploded. Perfectly viewable from Dr. Beck’s vantage point. A cloud of white dust rose a hundred feet in the air, tiny in comparison to the mountain. The noise echoed, bouncing off the neighbouring cliffs.
Donny was parked a close distance away. A tiny figure with the car at his back. Dr. Beck peered down over the hillside. Had the Rages bought it?
41.
. . . OOM!
The tail-end of the explosion was muffled from Jamie’s location, what with the collapsed refuse inside the former Weapon Research Division distorting the sound waves. Distant, but still clearly audible.
Jamie found himself wishing the charge had been set up a little closer. The sound would have permeated the City entrance easier.
Silence in the explosion’s remnant wake. The creature had stopped progressing forward. Jamie imagined it standing stock still, head held up high, sniffing, listening for more.
42.
ON THE monitors, the Rages had stopped and turned to peer in the explosion’s direction. They were slow to react as if even their thoughts were slow to form. They turned on the spot and began to funnel out of the wreckage and toward the noise. First one, then two, then entire fists. They were like sheep. Get a few moving and the rest would follow.
Lucy smiled. It was working.
43.
THE CLOTHES were still being torn, but the sound was fading. The Rage was heading in the opposite direction. Away from the two would-be warriors. Fatty let a smile dawn on his face. Jamie wiped away the sweat accumulating on his forehead. His mouth had never been so dry.
44.
DR. BECK, standing on the edge of the precipice, glanced over the side. He flinched, clenching his eyes shut tight, suffering from vertigo. He forced one eye open and watched as the tiny shadowy figures lurched from the hole and headed toward the valley mouth in the direction of the explosion.
He reached for his beeper and input a message. Hit send.
45.
THE LIGHT flashed at Donny’s waist. Checked it. Smiled.
WORKING.
46.
LUCY’S PAGER sat on the table beside her. She hardly glanced at it as it flashed. She already knew it was working. She could see it on her monitors.
And then something strange happened.
The Rage in the corridor paused.
Lucy glanced at Jamie and Fatty. They were still, silent, unmoving. They hadn’t caused, neither heard, a noise. So what was getting the creature’s attention?
Whatever it was, it was growing in strength as the Rage made an about face and continued its journey down the corridor.
In Jamie and Fatty’s direction.
47.
JAMIE WAS relieved beyond measure. It was always scary to take on a Rage. Even one, because they had most of the advantages. They could get cut and wouldn’t have taken much notice. They felt no pain. They never tired. They didn’t require any special training to carry out their attacks. They simply flew at their targets with clawed hands and snapping jaws. A single scratch and your life was forfeit. Avoiding a fight with a Rage was always a victory.
So distracted, he didn’t hear the Rage closing in on his position.
48.
LUCY’S PAGER flashed silently again. She glanced at it. Then froze and had to look again.
PLAN NOT WORKING
She looked at the monitors. The single Rage was continuing to head down the corridor toward Jamie and Fatty, who were still blithely unaware of their approaching doom. But Dr. Beck couldn’t have been aware of that single creature in the corridor. So what was he referring to? What could he see?
With haunted premonition, she raised her eyes to the upper monitors. The ones showing the outside of the facility, where the Rages had previously been accumulating. They were returning.
Donny’s charges had failed to distract the Rages.
What was she going to do?
49.
JAMIE WAS hungry.
Standing ready for a fight was exhausting work. He’d cranked his senses to their highest level to detect the Rage and needed to rest. He’d listened for every single filament of sound his ears could pick up on. He’d managed to hear the sound of a single item of clothing rubbing against the mutilated remains of a human converted to the undead faith. It’d worn him out and consumed his reserves of energy.
He spied something out the corner of his eye. Fatty was waving his hand to get his attention. He was pointing at himself, then at Jamie. He wanted to join his friend so they could go back up the stairs and leave this place. Probably to eat.
Jamie shook his head. They weren’t finished here yet. Fatty put his hands together, making a praying gesture. Pleading. Jamie shook his head again.
Then Fatty’s expression changed. Jamie was used to seeing that haunted, terrified expression on his friend’s face. It took a moment for him to recognize it for what it was.
Panic.
50.
THERE WAS no way for Lucy to get down to their level before the first Rage had attacked them. Even with the elevator, she would be far too late.
The pager. Why hadn’t they noticed the message from Dr. Beck? Either they hadn’t noticed or didn’t think it applied to them. What were they doing? Relaxing. Relieved because the danger had already passed.
Except it hadn’t. It was still very much present. Even more dangerous now because it was unexpected. They might panic, might poorly defend themselves.
She needed to warn them. Or else distract the Rage herself. But how?
Within your skeleton are hundreds of connection points. Any one of which can connect to a computer terminal.
The idea terrified her. And yet, what other option did she have? Sit here and wait for two of her friends to be murdered or—perhaps worse—turned into one of those things? No. She had to try.
She thought about the keypad, about how she’d figured it out by sensing what was instinctively right. She calmed her mind as best she could and let what came naturally surface.
Somewhere, a calm wave washed against a shore. The water wasn’t clear or blue but tinted a vibrant green. Odd. But Lucy went with it. And the shore. It wasn’t the yellow warmth of sand but some kind of purple material.
It was waiting for her, she sensed. She had to feed it a question. How do I help my friends? What should I do?
The water continued to wash against the bank. Doing nothing. And then she noticed something. Her own hands, beginning to rise in front of her face. She opened her eyes to find she was looking at the tip of her index finger.
She glanced at the monitor. The Rage was a matter of minutes from discovering the boys. She needed to act fast.
After The Fall (Book 2): The City Page 10
