The End of Everything | Book 9 | The End of Everything

by Artinian, Christopher

  “What about the rest of them?”

  “Olsen only wants her back alive. Doesn’t matter what happens to the others, so I say shoot to kill. We don’t want to be taking any risks. We’ve lost enough today.”

  The news of the ambush had sent shockwaves running through everyone. Hepworth had friends who were in that convoy, they all had. They were carrying out orders, but if they could get a little vengeance too then all the better.

  “Right, let’s kill us some bitches,” said one of the men readying his rifle and causing the others to laugh.

  Hepworth spun around, and anger flared in his eyes. “This isn’t a joke, Chadwick. These girls aren’t a joke. Don’t underestimate them. They’ve killed God knows how many of our people today.”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” Chadwick replied, and the smiles immediately disappeared from the others’ faces too.

  Hepworth turned to look at the imposing red-and-white search and rescue chopper parked on the road, putting his hand up in the air and pointing to the woods. The two pilots raised their thumbs. “Right. Keep an eye out,” he said, leading them into the trees.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Ruby, Tommy and Rosie had found sanctuary in the branches of a giant yew tree. Wren and Wolf had remained with them while they had climbed into position to make sure they could not be seen from the ground, but as she returned to the others, a feeling of dread enveloped her as she heard Rosie crying more than ever and the familiar nasal scream emanating from Tommy’s mouth. If the soldiers got near, they would surely hear it too. She arrived back to find Emmy with her head buried in Larry’s shoulder.

  “Some of them might have survived. They could have gone in the other direction,” Larry said, doing his best to ease her pain.

  Wren remembered back to the vivid flipbook of bloody images that flicked in front of her when the attack first commenced. One after another Emmy’s friends had fallen to the ground in gory horror. “Chuck was alive the last time I saw him. He was on the opposite side of the road.” She could not bear to give her the detail of what had happened to the others.

  “There, you see,” Larry said. “We don’t know what’s happened.”

  “Come on, we need to get into position, yes? They would not have gone to all this effort then just give it up as a bad job,” Mila said.

  “She’s right,” Wren replied. “Maybe if we can take cover in a tree like Ruby has that will give us the advantage.”

  “We need every advantage we can get. I’m afraid I am better with swords than I am this,” she said, holding the rifle up.

  Wren looked towards Larry. “Where’s your weapon?”

  “I … left it in the van.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I just got up and ran.”

  “Brilliant,” Wren said, turning around. Her head shot from side to side. “Bobbi?” She looked towards Mila. “Where the hell’s Bobbi?”

  “She thought she heard something and went to check it out!”

  “And you didn’t go with her?”

  “I’m sorry. I thought she would only be a minute.”

  They both turned full circle looking for any signs of where she might have gone, but all they could see was trees. “Perfect,” Wren said as she stared back in the direction they had come from. She immediately froze. Up ahead, she caught sight of something black, then something else. “Crap! They’re coming! Hide. Hide!”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Hepworth led the way; he always led the way. He had actually been a member of the elite SCO19 police firearms squad in the heart of the capital before the outbreak. Olsen had personally given him the task of training a specialist fast deployment team specifically for this kind of emergency scenario. Alas, the pickings were slim. The people he had worked with in London had been second to none. What I wouldn’t give for them to be here now. He cast a glance behind him and wished he hadn’t. Chadwick and two of his pals were walking side by side with grins on their faces. This is all a game to them.

  “I think I saw something.”

  Hepworth turned towards Moore, who had halted and was peering through the thick woodland ahead of them. Hepworth put his hand up, and the others stopped too. “Remember what I said. The young blonde they call Wren is the one we want to try to take alive, but if it’s her or us, then it’s going to be her all day long. Do you understand me?” They all mumbled in the affirmative then carried on more slowly now and with their weapons raised. “Whereabouts did you see them, Moore?”

  “I didn’t say it was them. I just said that I saw something move.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not going to be the three bears, is it?”

  “It was about fifty or sixty metres.”

  “Right, come on,” Hepworth said, starting to jog.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Wren crouched down behind a wide oak tree and held on to Wolf tightly. Even from twenty metres away, she could clearly hear Tommy’s stressed sounds. Where are you, Bobbi? What should I do? She was doing her best not to cry. She was always up for a fair fight, but this was anything but fair. Five heavily armed men were looking for them. These were men who presumably knew how to use the weapons they carried. She looked at the Glock 17 in her hand, and her shoulders slumped a little more. She glanced across towards Mila who was hiding behind another tree while Larry and Emmy held on to each other behind a third.

  It’s no good. They’re going to hear Tommy. They’re going to hear him the second they get close enough and we’re all done for. She let go of Wolf and stood up, keeping her back pressed tightly against the tree. Where are you, Bobbi? We’ve screwed up. It was a mistake to stop. We should have carried on running. They’re going to hear Tommy. They’re going to hear him and kill him and the rest of us.

  She heard a man’s voice, then another. That’s not far away. They’re coming. They’re coming.

  Wren looked back towards Mila, and in that brief moment, she could tell that exactly the same thoughts were running through her head. She then turned towards Emmy and mouthed five words to her. For a moment, Emmy did not understand; then, as both girls began to sprint in different directions, it dawned on her.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Mila did not glance back, she did not need to. The gunfire that filled the forest and the sound as chips of wood and bark splintered from trees around her told her that the soldiers had seen her. She zigzagged and ducked and weaved trying to do nothing but create distance between herself and the others. She had no end game, or maybe she did and didn’t want to admit it to herself, but for now, this was all there was … running.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Wren actually felt the wind of a bullet as it narrowly missed her. She glanced down to her right to see Wolf was matching her stride for stride. God, I hope nothing hits him. There were no good options in this situation. Robyn’s idea of putting up a stand only worked if they had weapons they were confident with. Wren, Mila and Emmy had no hope of hitting anything smaller than a barn door with theirs. We should have stayed close to the van. If we stayed near the van, maybe we could have given them the slip and got out of here.

  The initial barrage of gunfire halted but, rather than slow down, Wren sped up. She knew what was coming next.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Moore! Take Peters and Michaels, you go after that one,” Hepworth said, pointing in the direction that Mila had taken. “Chadwick, you come with me.”

  The five men did not waste time. They began to chase the two young women. After twenty metres, Hepworth stopped, raised his rifle and fired.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Wren ducked as an explosion of bark and splinters erupted from a tree just in front of her. Oh crap. This guy’s good. She hurdled one, two, three gigantic roots and switched course, heading further into the woods, weaving in and out through the trees hoping the natural obstacles would protect her. She turned around and pressed the trigger on the Glock. She did not even have sight of her hunters, but she hoped the sound of g
unfire might give them pause. Maybe she could get a stride ahead or two … maybe.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Isn’t this the one we’re meant to capture?” Chadwick asked, remembering the description of the young woman they had been given in the brief.

  “Yep,” Hepworth replied as they carried on running.

  “Well, weren’t you a bit close with that last shot?”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  The shot that their prey had fired had gone nowhere near them, and suddenly Hepworth felt more confident than ever. It told him that not only couldn’t their target shoot but that she was panicked. Olsen is going to forget all about the other chopper when I serve this little beauty up to her.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Mila looked behind her. Through the trees she could see the three figures in black chasing her down like hungry dogs hunting a rabbit. Verdammt! She had hoped that the speed she had set off at would have given her a bigger lead, but they were staying with her stride for stride. She heard a shot and bark flew from a tree about fifteen metres in front of her. “Scheisse!” she hissed as she changed course again. There was only so long that she could maintain this speed, and when she started to slow, she knew that the shots would get closer and closer.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  It took a little while for Emmy and Larry to pluck up enough courage to break cover. Tommy’s cries had simmered a little, but they could still hear him.

  “Ruby, you need to come down,” Emmy said.

  “What’s going on?” Ruby replied.

  “We need to head back to the van.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “Wren and Mila have led the soldiers away. She told me to head back to the van. That’s what we need to do.”

  “The van? But what about Wren and Mila?”

  “Look, I don’t know. I’m just telling you what she said.”

  The volume of Tommy’s scream began to rise again as Ruby took hold of his wrist. Rosie was still sobbing away as she clung to a wide branch like a bereft koala. In that moment, there was one thought repeating over and over in Emmy’s head. We’re going to die today.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Mila looked down at the rifle she was carrying. If she dropped it, she could probably pick up the pace a little, but for how long? When she finally ran out of breath, she would need it. It would be her last hope of putting up any kind of a fight. Chuck had shown her the basics. In principle, she knew how to aim, fire and reload, but actually hitting something, that was a different matter.

  She hurdled an overgrown tree root and ducked under a low-hanging branch before casting another fleeting glance behind her. They’re gaining.

  Another blast and a small branch flew from a tree to her right. A second, third and fourth boom rang out. They’re getting closer.

  It was while that thought was still in her head that she collapsed to the ground. Tears immediately filled her eyes as her face crashed against the leaf-covered surface. The pain of the bullet that had entered her body was secondary to the realisation that she would never see her friend again and, in all likelihood, the same fate would await her. “I’m sorry, Robyn.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Wren looked behind her. Never in her life had she been more grateful to be a real athlete. Her pursuers had dropped back another twenty metres. For the time being, she could still see their black uniforms appear intermittently before disappearing just as quickly. She changed course again. If she could lose them and run in a wide arc, she might be able to get back to the road and, hopefully, by that time, the others may have found her sister or vice versa.

  Two rifle shots sounded behind her, but this time, the bullets came nowhere near. “We’re losing them, boy,” she said excitedly as they both veered to the left. Another bang, but this time, leaves and detritus from the forest floor flew up around her feet. “Damn it! That’ll teach me to be cocky!”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Mila felt tears run over the bridge of her nose. She felt the rifle beneath her digging into her ribs. It was like all her senses were working overtime before they stopped working altogether. The sensation of someone thrusting a white-hot poker into her leg made her gasp. She slowly rolled over to see a bloody hole through her jeans where the bullet had re-emerged. The three black-clad figures were nearly upon her, all with their weapons raised in her direction. She began to bring up her own rifle, but another shot fired, making the soil around her fly up.

  “Don’t even think about it,” said Moore. She stayed there, frozen, until the rifle was ripped out of her hand by another of the soldiers.

  “What do you think?” Michaels asked.

  “Nah!” Moore replied. “It’s not her. They said long hair in a ponytail. Unless there’s a Vidal Sassoon’s around here, that’s not the girl.”

  “No, I mean what do you think? She looks like she could be fun.” A menacing smile crept onto the face of the other two men. “Spoils of war and all that.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure Hepworth would be over the moon with us taking a time out to get up close and personal with this one when we’re meant to be chasing down the rest of them.”

  “I don’t mean now, I mean after.”

  “I suppose—” Moore stopped talking and an expression of confusion swept across his face.

  “You suppose what?” Michaels asked as he and Peters both turned towards him.

  Moore stared into the distance, his mouth opened a little wider, and a trickle of blood ran over his lips and down to his chin. A few more seconds passed, and he crumpled forward, crashing down onto the forest floor. His two comrades staggered back in horror. An arrow protruded from the back of his neck, just below his helmet. The precision such a shot required sent a chill through both of them. They brought their rifles back up in perfect synchronicity and showered the forest with bullets.

  Michaels stopped, and an inhuman cry of tortured agony bellowed from deep within him. Peters looked across and did his best to stifle the urge to vomit. An arrow was sticking through one of his friend’s cheeks and out of the other. A jagged circle of flesh was missing from the left-hand side of his face and a gruesome glob of bloody tissue perched on his shoulder. Stuck in it was the tiniest piece of gum, with two teeth still attached.

  A second arrow whistled through the air, drilling straight through Michaels’ knee, causing him to fold to the ground still screaming. Terror gripped Peters as he raised his weapon once more. All three arrows had come from different directions. How many of these bastards are there?

  He began to fire again. He had no clear target or aim other than desperately trying to hit someone, somewhere, in the vain hope that the attack would stop. He emptied the magazine and reached for another, keeping his eyes fixed on the surrounding area for any sign of movement.

  “Fich dich!” Mila growled, thrusting her knife through Peters’ hand and pinning it to his leg. She let out a grunt of pain as the effort winded her, but then she wrapped her arms around his lower legs and pivoted with all the strength she could summon, causing Peters to fall like a chopped tree.

  “Aaaggghhh!” A howl to rival his friend’s pained cries left him as he fell, inadvertently hammering the blade deeper as he hit the ground. Mila swivelled around, grabbing the handle of the knife and tearing it out of her victim at a deliberately wide angle, causing even more pain and a wider gaping hole to form. The small clearing sounded like Hell’s waiting room as the shrieks continued.

  Ignoring her pain, she struggled to her knees, raising the knife above her shoulder. Peters thrust out his good hand, firmly grasping hold of Mila’s wrist. Despite his injuries, he still had a lot of power. She could feel his other hand moving. He’s going for another weapon. Nein! Nein! Nein! The tears were still fresh in her eyes. She could gradually feel herself getting weaker. Got to do something. Got to do something.

  It was primal instinct more than reason. She closed her mouth around the skin on his wrist and clenched her teeth together as hard as she could, ri
pping her head back with a bloody morsel of flesh flapping from her lips. Blood sprayed over Peters’ face as he stared in shock at the crazed creature looming over him. His eyes turned towards the gaping wound as it continued to spew red.

  Mila felt his grasp on her ease for a second, but that was all she needed. She pulled her hand free and thrust the knife down. The blade slipped through the eye socket, burrowing into the spongy brain tissue beneath. All movement halted in an instant, and the body beneath her went limp.

  The cries of the other soldier continued to fill the air around Mila, but a wave of light-headedness came over her and, exhausted by her own struggle, she flopped forward over her victim’s body. She heard feet pounding across the forest floor. They were getting closer and closer. Is it the other soldiers? Are they coming to finish me off?

  A twang. A thud. Silence. “Mila! Mila!” Robyn cried, crashing down onto her knees beside her friend.

  Mila managed to lift her head. “They shot me.”

  “Okay,” Robyn said, rolling her friend over. She placed her bow down, reached across and unbuckled one of the men’s belts, wrapping it around Mila’s leg above the wound and pulling it as tight as she could, almost immediately stemming the flow of blood.

  Mila looked down. “It hurts.”

  “Well … yeah. I think that’s what bullets are meant to do.”

  “I’ve been shot, and you still make smart mouths.”

  “It doesn’t look like you’ve lost too much blood. It can’t have hit anything vital.”

  “It feels like it hit something vital.”

  A small smile appeared on Robyn’s face, and she hugged her friend tightly. “Do you know where Wren is?”

  “I ran in one direction; your sister took the other.”

  Robyn looked through the trees. “Oh God, she could be anywhere.”

  “The plan was to head back to the van.”

  “Do you think you can get to your feet? Do you think you can walk?”

  Mila sat up a little and looked down at her wound. “Maybe if you can find a krucke … a crutch, yes?”