Capital Falling Trilogy Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Winkless, Lance

  “Not good, mate. Just had a recce myself up there and think we’re on borrowed time.”

  Dan and I look at each other, then tell Mick more firepower is on its way, and to stay alert and report anything new. We head to the stairs leading to the first floor and the windows looking out over the courtyard.

  As we climb the stairs, we see the men in their positions watching the perimeter; we go around to the right expecting to see the worst. As we approach the window, Steve who is in position there turns to us.

  “They are getting higher; there are fucking hundreds of them climbing all over each other. They’re gonna be at this window soon.”

  Steve, a six-foot bearded, hardened combat veteran is sounding nervous and looking worried, and as I get to the window, it hits me immediately how he’s feeling.

  The whole courtyard is teaming with Rabids and I do mean the whole courtyard, I actually can’t see any of the ground down there, monsters covering it. The only reference of the courtyard that I can see is the outside perimeter. The gate and gatehouse lie buried somewhere beneath a moving mass of bodies that can’t be differentiated at this distance. I must admit, I’m in shock for a couple of seconds; how can there be so many? This virus only escaped yesterday afternoon or yesterday evening, and yet in front of me, there are hundreds if not thousands of these infected Rabids—or whatever you want to call them!

  At my feet, level with the bottom of the window, are grim inhuman faces looking up, looking at us, climbing higher and higher, their only possible reason is to somehow get inside and attack us.

  What the fuck are they climbing on to get this high? It can only be on each other, since the walls are tapered outwards but only slightly, and are fabricated in smooth concrete so they can’t be climbing on that. The only explanation is still that they are climbing on top of each other, but surely the ones at the bottom can’t hold all the weight?

  There is a pyramid of sorts reaching up to this height, and the point is situated at my feet. Even now, there are others climbing up the outside of the pyramid to form the next level, a level which will probably reach up to our position. Suddenly, the pyramid drops a meter or so as if it has collapsed at the bottom.

  “It does that every now and then,” Steve informs us, “then it builds again, getting higher each time. I think the ones at the bottom must be getting crushed,” he adds. “Will the windows hold when they get this high?”

  “I don’t know, Steve, they are thick but who knows. We need to prepare for the worst,” I respond.

  “These things look absolutely evil through and through, don’t they?” Steve points out.

  “Yes, I agree.”

  “I dunno, I’ve seen worse,” Dan says.

  “You’ve seen worse?” Steve exclaims.

  “Yea, you should see this one the morning after a night on the tiles!” Dan jokes, waving his thumb in my direction.

  “Charming, with friends like you…” I retort.

  Steve doesn’t really respond at all to Dan’s joke, he just looks equally worried. The three of us watch as the pyramid starts to rebuild for a moment. Then, I lean forward and put my ear to the glass, I hear things straight away; it is hard to make out through the thick glass but there is definitely a sound of high-pitched screeching. Both Dan and Steve follow suit and listen close.

  “Right Dan,” I say taking my ear away, "let’s get down to the armoury. We need to get fortified here as quickly as we can.”

  “No arguments here, Boss.”

  “Keep us posted, Steve.”

  “Will do, Andy.”

  The only way to get into the second basement and to the armoury is either by using the service lift or stairs, both at the far end of the building. We could get to them on this floor by going through the canteen and kitchen but that would mean seeing all the staff there who would slow us down with questions and suchlike. To avoid this, we go back down the stairs, giving Mike a nod on the way, and heading down the corridor just off reception. At the end of the long corridor are double security doors leading into the service area. Dan swipes his security card to give us access.

  Inside is where deliveries are taken in and supplies are stored, mainly stationery but also other things like security gear, tools, cleaning stuff and some of the food for the kitchen. The room is quite big and has a fairly small, high-security roller shutter which actually opens onto the corner of the courtyard. It is not very visible from the outside and blends in with the concrete wall, so isn’t attracting much attention from the Rabids out there by the sounds of it.

  Opposite to the roller shutter on the back wall of the building which runs parallel to the canal, is the fire escape. There is a walkway between the building and the canal leading to a fire point area by the canal’s walk bridge.

  The service lift is situated on the same wall as the doors we’ve just come through. The room is triangular with various storage cupboards and racking.

  Ian is seated at the dispatch desk, looking at his phone. He too gets up as we enter, comes around the front of the desk and then sits sideways on top of the desk.

  “You alright down here, Ian?”

  “All okay here, Andy not much happening; there is banging against the roller shutter sometimes but nothing major. How’s the situation looking outside, no better I expect?”

  I tell Ian what we have just seen outside the window in the courtyard. He doesn’t look surprised and tells us that is more or less what he saw before coming down here. Ian’s reaction to what is unfolding seems slightly different from everyone else’s. I’ve noticed it even in the short time spent with him. He somehow seems unfazed by it all. Oddly so.

  Ian lost his wife just over a year ago now, to cancer. They didn’t have any children, so maybe that has given him a different slant on all this shit for him. Whatever it is, he is very calm, just what is needed in this type of situation, so I make a decision.

  “There doesn’t seem to be much of a threat of them breaching the doors in here, Ian. I think you would be more useful with us,” I tell him.

  “I agree the threat here is low, a waste me being here. The doors will lock behind us on the way out and we can secure them further from outside, just in case.”

  “Okay mate, you’re with us then. We need to go to the second basement first, to re-arm; there are some equipment holdalls on the racks over here."

  Going over to the holdalls, we all grab two each, and Ian doesn’t ask any questions about going to the second basement, which tells me he too knows all about the armoury. It seems Sir Malcolm’s secret is not so secret after all. This doesn’t surprise me in the slightest, as men like us make it our business to know about any possible tactical advantages, especially secret caches of weapons!

  The service lift is waiting for us, and the door slides open as soon as Dan presses the button; I’m last in. Reaching into my front jeans pocket, I retrieve the key that came out of the safe in my office desk and insert it into an inconspicuous keyhole positioned under the lift's button panel. Upon turning the key a quarter turn clockwise, the lift doors close and the lift starts to descend, no buttons needing to be pressed.

  In no time, we have passed the underground car park level and the lift then comes to a halt one floor below. I turn the key again clockwise another quarter turn, which opens the lift doors and locks them in the open position so the lift cannot move whilst we are down here.

  In front of us and straight outside the lift is a small room, the lights for which flicker on as the lift doors open. There is nothing in the room; all the walls are painted plain white and on the right, a heavy wooden security door leads to the stairs…not that you would know the stairs come down to this level because of the blind door on the parking level floor, which has a hidden keyhole needing the same key I just used in the lift.

  To the left is another door, the entry to the armoury. The door is stainless steel with a brushed finish; it is 100 millimetres thick and there’s no immediately obvious way to open it, no handle or key
hole.

  Dan and Ian follow me into the small room and over to the armoury door. I reach around the right side of the doorframe and push a small hidden button nestled there. A panel in the middle of the door just below head height retracts, then lifts up to reveal a tablet-sized security screen which lights up as the panel disappears.

  The screen is black, apart from six white boxes across the top and a numerical keypad below, requiring the caller to enter their passcode. I tap in each number of my passcode followed by enter.

  The screen then changes to one big white box which I press my left palm onto. The box should turn green and an open button should appear, but it doesn’t. It turns red and the door stays locked.

  “Shit!” I take my hand off and the box returns to white.

  “Uh-oh. Now we’re fucked, Andy hasn’t paid his rent,” Ian laughs.

  “I put the cheque in the post!” I return whilst wiping my hand down the leg of my jeans.

  Again, I put my palm in the box, now a bit nervous that the technology has done one. A long second or two passes but thank God, the box turns green and a green open button appears below.

  I’m not the only one who sighs in relief and I quickly press the open button before it changes its mind. The screen reverts to the six-box passcode screen. There is a winding sound followed by a couple of clunks and then the door starts to swing inwards by itself.

  The lights inside the armoury flicker on automatically, revealing probably the biggest cache of illegal weapons in the country. The room isn’t that big, the concrete walls making a four-meter-by-four-meter square, and the ceiling is low.

  Running down the middle of the room are three triangular storage trolleys with black fabric covers running down each side to keep the contents hidden. These trolleys are loaded with various weapons for quick deployment. I am planning to take the first two with us. Each one will have twenty M4 Carbine Assault Rifles, ten per side and the drawers at the bottom of each side will have pre-loaded magazines, grenades, smoke grenades and flashbangs.

  Under normal circumstances, all this equipment would be checked by myself and Dan before they are taken out of the armoury but these aren’t normal circumstances. So, they will have to leave unchecked. The men will check the weapons when they are issued with them, so I’m not concerned.

  The holdalls are for other equipment we will need to take from the racking that runs down each side of the walls. They hold body armour, night vision goggles and more ammo and grenades; we will take as much of these supplies as we can carry.

  “Fuck me! It’s Aladdin’s Cave in here,” Ian pipes up, as he, unlike Dan, hasn’t been down here before.

  I tell them both what we are taking and to arm themselves with whatever they fancy as we go. The first thing we all do is fit ourselves out with body armour. Whilst the Rabids won’t be firing at us, we hope, we have all seen the chaos of a firefight and friendly fire hurts just as much as the enemies.

  In quick time, the three of us are kitted out, and the last piece of equipment I pick up is my M4 Carbine Automatic Assault Rifle, one I am very familiar with. It wouldn’t be my first choice of assault rifle but would come very near the top of my list. The M4 is a variant of the famous M16 but smaller and lighter, ideal for close quarters combat and more than capable in the field. The one I’ve picked up is my own personal one that I’ve used several times before, but I have only ever shot it for practice, never having to shoot it on the offensive or in self-defence before.

  Ian and Dan are already packing the holdalls with equipment; I take one and join them, thinking this one will be going back up to the top floor with me. I make sure it has four of the few smaller-sized body armours in it for the girls to wear, as well as plenty of ammo, grenades and a pair of night visions, just in case they are needed.

  The holdalls now packed, Dan takes off the brakes of the first of the pre-loaded triangular trolleys and with Ian, pushes it out to the lift. I follow with two fully-packed holdalls, one in each hand. The trolley fits in the lift with the two holdalls, leaving enough room for two men. Dan and Ian take the first load up straight to the first floor so it can be wheeled out easily.

  While the two men are gone, I radio to Steve at the front window overlooking the courtyard, to get the latest.

  “Steve, Andy here. Report, over.” Steve is now very concerned, I can tell immediately.

  “The ugly fucking things are at the windows, over,” his words not mine.

  “Okay mate; how many and how are the windows holding up, over.”

  “Windows look safe enough at the moment, but there are only around ten of them there, they are banging on them. But farther behind, the fuckers look like they are building up for something. We need that firepower, over.”

  “Dan and Ian are on the way up with that now, and they will come straight to you, over.”

  “Affirmative,” Ian’s voice comes over the radio.

  “Okay, Ian and Steve, can you form a perimeter around the windows in danger. Use whoever you need to, I’ll be up ASAP, over.”

  Both men give me an affirmative and over and out. I check my watch: 1315 hours, the time moving so quickly. I take the brake off the second trolley and start to push it into position out by the lift. We’ve got to move as fast as possible to secure that area.

  Rabids are already at the windows. ‘Shit!’ The pile there is growing quickly, quicker than I bargained for; will the windows hold to keep them out? I’m certain this situation was not on the planning board when the windows were being designed. Security was, but a pile of infected frenzied monsters was not, so will they hold the weight?

  As I’m mulling this over, the lift arrives back, and Dan gets out.

  “Not getting lonely, Boss, I hope?”

  “No, Dan, I’m okay, but thanks for the concern. Is Ian sorting upstairs?”

  “Yes, I told him to get some help from one of the men to get the hardware to Steve.”

  “Good thinking, mate.”

  “Shall we get this trolley in?” Dan says, already starting to push the trolley out towards the lift.

  “I’ve decided to take all three trolleys up. Let’s keep one in reserve. We don’t want it locked down here if we need it.”

  “Makes sense, sounds like the way things are going, we could need it.”

  We both load the second trolley and two more holdalls onto the lift and while Dan takes it up, I get the third trolley into position by the lift and get the last holdalls ready too.

  Dan is soon back, and the final trolley is loaded into the lift along with him, but I hover for a second debating whether to leave the armoury door open or close it? In the end, I decide to close it. I touch the screen on the door, enter my code and press the red close button that appears; the door starts to move inwards but I don’t wait to watch it close. I get into the lift.

  “How do you think this is going to play out, will those windows hold?” Dan asks.

  “As I told Steve, I honestly can’t say. We have got to assume the worst, that they are going to breach the building somewhere, whether it’s through those windows or somewhere else.”

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  “We are going to have to move to higher ground.”

  “But what will that gain us? We will be trapped up there, surely?”

  “I’m still working on figuring it out, mate. Hopefully, but unlikely anytime soon, the army will get back control of the city but if you have any other ideas, please let me know. I can’t see an alternative right now; we need to get everyone and as many supplies as possible up to the higher floors as quickly as we can. Then lock down the building.”

  Before Dan can respond or ask any more questions, the lift comes to a stop, this time on the ground floor. The doors open. I take the key out from the panel and put it back in my pocket just in case it’s needed again. Firstly, we take the last of the holdalls through the storeroom and then through the security doors into the corridor that leads back to reception, then, finally, we wheel t
he trolley out. The doors close behind us; these doors lock automatically and can only be opened with the correct access card, but we wheel the trolley back up against the doors and apply the brakes to secure them a bit more.

  Dan and I run down the corridor leading to the reception area, Dan leading, our M4 Carbines gripped in both hands across the front of our chests and a holdall each slung over onto our backs.

  Reception is now deserted. Mick will be upstairs helping prepare the defences. I stop and shout, “Dan!” and he comes to a sudden stop and turns to me.

  “Check the defence preparations, Dan, then get the staff in the canteen to start filling the service lift with as much of the provisions from the kitchen as possible. We need to get them up to floor six. I’m just going to speak to Stan, then I’ll be with you.”

  Dan nods, turns and runs for the stairs.

  Stan has obviously seen our arrival in reception on his screen, because as I turn towards the door of the Security Room, it opens and his head pops out, his face looking worried, very worried.

  “Andy, good,” Stan says, obviously relieved to see me.

  “Okay, Stan, how’s the perimeter looking from in there?” I ask as I walk over and go into his room.

  “The perimeter outside of the courtyard hasn’t changed that much. Even North Wharf Road seems to be calming down slightly. The courtyard, however, is full of these things now as you probably know, and they all seem to be pushing towards the front entrance.”

  I look at the screen, the centre of which Stan has reserved for the views from the cameras that show the mass of Rabids piling up to the windows above us. It is frightening. The mass has grown considerably in the short time since I last looked out with Steve about half an hour ago. There is a kind of hill of moving bodies leading from where the cars were that I side-swiped earlier.

  Stan leans towards the screen points, bringing my attention to a smaller mound of Rabids at the base of the hill.

  “This has started to build up in the last ten minutes,” Stan says, still pointing.

  “What do you make of it?” I ask Stan.