A World Reborn (Book 2): Global Outbreak

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A World Reborn (Book 2): Global Outbreak Page 13

by Thompson, Chris


  “Let’s move.” Melissa declared.

  As Melissa started forward she scanned around the outside space. It was enclosed by a fence, the gate of which had been knocked through by a heavy vehicle - probably a truck, considering they were in a loading bay area, Melissa considered. There were buildings across the street, which showed evidence of the same signs of carnage apparent in other streets she’d seen since they arrived in the town. The street lights were on, and Melissa could see there were no infected or Reborn waiting for them, unless of course, the Reborn were concealed within the buildings or hiding on rooftops. She led the way to the broken gate and out into the street beyond. As she surveyed both ways, looking for any sign of a threat, she had a growing sense of unease. It wasn’t right that the Reborn weren’t in pursuit. They wanted her and they wanted the Ancillary, and yet they’d left one avenue of escape uncovered? Melissa slowed, moving into a position of cover beside a car, Rochelle following closely. She knelt down and took another look around; she didn’t see any indications of pursuit, which only deepened the concern she felt.

  Melissa let go of her weapon and retrieved the tablet computer she was carrying. She intended to access the map application to see if there was a good route around the market they could take which would lead them in the direction of the bus, or at least, to the position they’d last seen it. Unfortunately, the screen turned on but there was some kind of corruption preventing her from accessing any of the functions. She tapped icons, tried swiping, she even tapped the voice command button and tried to instruct it verbally, but it was dead. When they had remotely deactivated her collar, it seemed they’d also traced the tablet computer she was using and killed that too, maybe with some kind of inbuilt virus. Melissa tossed the tablet away, the screen cracking as the device hit the tarmac. She followed this with a curse and shook her head. Her main concern was getting lost, as she wasn’t supremely confident she’d be able to make her way back without some kind of reference, but after a few moments to look around, she made a decision.

  “Come on, Rochelle, let’s go.” Melissa declared resolutely, determined not to allow her uncertainty to further unnerve the other woman, and started moving cautiously away from the car they were taking cover behind.

  Kevin wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been driving the bus after talking to Roy. All he knew for sure was that he was lost. He’d turned this way then that, left then right, and in the process he’d found himself in a more residential part of the town. This might not have presented him with much of a problem if he’d been able to kill the engine and wait for the infected to settle as planned, but now his collar wasn’t working and all he could do was keep moving, with a massive pursuing force of infected behind him. The problem was that he was becoming more and more confused as to where he was in the process. Things had gone from bad to worse when he’d failed to allow enough room to turn the bus around a corner and crashed into a car, which had spun sideways across the road when it hit a lamppost. This had stalled the bus’ engine and he’d tried desperately to get it working again before the infected caught up with him - but his panic driven efforts had been in vain. In the ensuing conflict he’d been forced to headshot three infected who had managed to climb in through broken windows, even though he knew it would further give his position away to any Reborn in the area, and then an infected had bashed through the driver’s side window and tried to clamber up into the cabin with him. He’d summoned up the courage to punch it in the face, which had dislodged it, but it had somehow managed to snatch the radio from his vest and taken it with it. By then, the rest of the swarm had started to catch up, and while he knew it was the only way to maintain contact with Roy and Melissa, he decided it wasn’t worth dying to re-secure it. So he’d urgently fiddled with the ignition, repeating desperately the first line of his mother’s prayer, and seemingly against all odds, had managed to get the bus going again.

  Even though driving the bus was a struggle, requiring muscle and concentration as he wound his way round sharp bends and obstacles in its path, he found his mind did wander from time to time. He thought of the choices he’d made, the consequences of which had shaped his life. At one time Kevin had considered a wildly different career path. He had an aptitude for computer science, and had thought about starting his own software company; he had had big dreams about making a fortune and having a luxurious house. Then, when he started college, he’d met a woman, and took the same criminal justice course she did so he could spend more time with her. It had been fun, but even though it was just a fling, he’d discovered a passion for the path that led him to his current career. As Kevin made another turn, wondering if he was actually just going in circles at this point, he wondered whether he was better off in his current position as an FBI agent rather than where he would have been had he taken the other road. At least he possessed the tools and training to protect himself - well, up to a point. Zombies weren’t covered in basic training, after all.

  Feeling an upsurge of fear and frustration in equal measure, Kevin was now forced to slow down. The next intersection was blocked off by cars on the left and right. There weren’t any infected in the vicinity however, so Kevin stopped the bus but kept the engine running and went to the rear window. He peered out, wondering if he’d lost some of the infected, but saw there were hundreds, possibly even thousands, still in pursuit. They shuffled, moving as quickly as they could on their stiff limbs, a horrifically loud chorus of excited, eager moans, groans and roars escaping their lips as they hurried to catch up to the bus. Whether they were simply following the sound or were after the meal it contained Kevin wasn’t sure, but he didn’t intend to find out. He started back towards the driver’s seat, his mind preoccupied with making his escape before they caught up to him when a bullet suddenly smashed through one of the remaining side windows, glass scattering inwards. Kevin stumbled backwards, his first thought to get into some kind of cover, and his second how could the sniper have tracked him? Then he realized the latter was improbable, unless the Reborn had some kind of superpowers he wasn’t aware of. Kevin slid around into one of the passenger seats and the investigative part of his brain followed this thought through. If there was more than one sniper it meant they had the whole city under surveillance. A second shot hit the floor of the bus near Kevin and drew him back into the moment. He made no movement, neither rash nor cautious, as he desperately tried to come up with a plan, something that would get him, unscathed, back behind the wheel ready to put as much distance between himself, the Reborn and the encroaching swarm of infected. However, each possibility was instantly dismissed as either impractical or foolhardy. Suddenly, one of the side windows shattered inward, a scattering of glass raining down across the seats and the aisle between. It was immediately followed by the sound of someone climbing on board, so Kevin tried to get his rifle into a position to fight off whatever threat was coming his way.

  With a fierce roar escaping his mouth, Kevin stood and stepped into the aisle, swinging his rifle to the ready. Almost at once, the rifle was swatted away; a black clad figure had silently approached his position and, even as Kevin tried to react, the enemy was following up his attack with a heavy blow to Kevin’s face, disorienting him momentarily. The assailant handled him roughly, ripping the rifle away by pulling the strap over his head and yanking on it hard to pull the weapon from his hand before tossing it away. Kevin refocused and saw that his attacker was of average build, with a masculine shape beneath the layers of armor. A sniper rifle secured via a strap over his chest hung on his back. Kevin stepped back, narrowly avoiding a second strike, this time aimed at his throat, which was swiftly followed up with swipe towards his face; a glint of metal revealing a knife in his attacker’s hand. Kevin stumbled further back, completely on the defensive as the Reborn soldier continued his relentless assault. A vicious jab with the knife came once more towards Kevin’s face, which caused him to react instinctively and lean out of the way. It seemed his assailant had the upper hand, but then, as t
he knife neared his throat, Kevin saw an opportunity to counter-attack and gratefully seized it. He grabbed the Reborn’s wrist in a vice like hold and tried to twist it hard enough to force him to drop the weapon. The Reborn growled in pain, but even so, reached out with his free hand and tried to claw at Kevin’s eyes. Kevin grasped his other wrist too, and they became locked in a battle of strength. The Reborn was strong, easily holding his own, and each tested the other as they fought to take control. Suddenly, the Reborn countered Kevin’s grip on him with a violent stamp on Kevin’s foot. His surprise caused Kevin to slacken his grip fractionally, enough for the Reborn to pull his knife-hand free of the painful grip Kevin held it in. He instantly thrust the knife towards Kevin’s neck, and the latter was forced to grapple with the Reborn again.

  Kevin barely managed to wrap his hand around the Reborn’s wrist before the tip of the knife penetrated his throat. He struggled, grunting as his muscles burned with exertion. Kevin pushed, his attacker pushed back; Kevin knew it could go either way, but then, with a sudden burst of energy borne of a desperate need to gain the upper hand, he violently forced the Reborn’s arm away and, in the same moment the knife left his neck, thrust his head forward, making a sudden, brutal contact with the man’s nose. Kevin heard it break, and the Reborn gasped in angry pain.

  Staggered, the man weakened in his grasp and Kevin was able to twist the wrist of the knife hand again. This time, the Reborn dropped the weapon and it clattered to the floor. Kevin swiftly removed his hand from the man’s wrist and drew it back, balling it into a fist. Unfortunately, the Reborn recovered and struck him first, his fist smacking Kevin’s jaw. Kevin grunted and attempted to strike back, but his hand hit nothing, sailing over his target as his assailant twisted away; breaking free of the tight hold Kevin had had on his other wrist as he did so. The Reborn kicked him low in the stomach, which didn’t hurt, his armor having protected him, but it was enough to knock him back. Kevin roared and charged back into the fray, grappling the man and punching him in the face twice with all the fury he could muster; with his foe staggered, Kevin followed up by kneeing his adversary in the groin as hard as he could before shoving him to the ground. The Reborn dropped to the floor, landing heavily on his back while coughing and spluttering, no doubt due to the blood from his broken nose running down his throat. Recovering, the Reborn rolled onto his front and attempted to crawl away a couple of paces, his hand reaching for the place he had tossed Kevin’s rifle. Seeing the incoming danger, Kevin leapt forward, grabbed one of the Reborn’s legs and tried to drag him back and away from the rifle. The Reborn reacted instinctively however, the boot from his free leg striking Kevin hard in the face. Kevin was momentarily stunned, which was when the Reborn chose to repeat the attack, causing Kevin to release him. He scrambled away from Kevin, his hands about to wrap around the grip of the rifle.

  Kevin surged forward, this time grabbing one of the Reborn’s boots with both hands, and pulling with every ounce of strength he possessed. He dragged him back but, to his horror, saw he had managed to seize the weapon and was swinging it in his direction. Kevin’s eyes widened and he instantly dropped the boot - moments before the barrel would have been pointed directly at his face - and Kevin was able to grapple the rifle with his left hand and push it away, but only just far enough. The Reborn squeezed the trigger and the loud, explosive sound of a gunshot so close to his face made Kevin’s ears ring, then a second and third shot were fired in quick succession. Kevin struggled to gain control of the weapon, shifting so he was straddling the Reborn. He pulled as hard as he could, his position giving him better leverage against his opponent, but it wasn’t going to be enough. Making a quick decision, he took a calculated risk and let go of the weapon and struck his assailant’s broken nose with his left fist, followed immediately with a powerful blow from his right which, at the very least, fractured his cheekbone, and in a movement that flowed from it swept his hand down and wrenched the rifle from his grasp. With the rifle secured, Kevin swiftly got to his feet and took a couple of steps back, aiming the rifle at his assailant’s face.

  “Don’t move!” Kevin ordered as the soldier stirred slowly, though he didn’t attempt to launch another attack. Kevin kept his eyes locked onto the Reborn’s, looking for any indication of deceit.

  “Unclip that rifle, really freaking slowly!” Kevin demanded brusquely. The Reborn didn’t do anything at first; instead he stared at him, a hateful glare in his eyes, but then he began to comply. He moved his hands to the strap: took hold of it and slowly lifted it over his head, raising his body just enough to move the weapon, and then he laid the rifle on the floor of the bus.

  “Slide it this way.” Kevin instructed and he complied by pushing it slowly towards him. His hand did, however, drift towards the trigger at one point, but Kevin grunted and shook his head, so he let the rifle pass by. Kevin retrieved his handcuffs from the back of his belt and tossed them to the Reborn without a spoken instruction. He slipped them around his wrists without argument and then moved to a sitting position. Kevin looked away, taking his eyes off his prisoner to quickly scan through the windows. He groaned inwardly when he saw the infected horde had nearly reached the bus, but when he returned his attention to the Reborn he noticed that his collar still had a green light, so he gestured with the rifle to one of the seats and hoped proximity to a working collar would be sufficient to subdue the infected. If not, Kevin didn’t know what he would do.

  “Take a seat.” He directed and, after the Reborn had complied, moved past him and turned off the engine. Retracing his steps quickly, Kevin sat on the seat in front of him and half turned to face him, while bringing the rifle up to point in his direction. The infected shuffled towards the bus, some bumping up against it and others smacking it before settling down. They moved around the bus but began to lose interest, some falling under the effects of the collar, others simply coming to a stop now that they couldn’t smell any prey or hear sounds that attracted their attention. Kevin breathed deeply and slowly recovered from the bruising battle.

  “Take your mask off.” He instructed in hushed tones. Slowly, the man reached up and lifted the balaclava over his head, revealing his reddened cheek. Blood was running down from his nose, which Kevin thought he’d broken, but it appeared the damage he’d inflicted wasn’t as bad as it first seemed. He glowered at Kevin, his dark eyes filled with malice.

  “What’s your name?” Kevin wanted to know. He didn’t answer, which triggered a frustrated sigh from Kevin. “We’re going to be stuck here a while, we may as well talk.”

  “Sean.” He responded, his voice at a normal speaking tone attracting a couple of curious taps on the bus from the infected. He sounded Irish, and had a slender, angular face, with a ruddy skin tone.

  “How many more of you are out there?” Kevin demanded.

  “More than you can handle alone.”

  “I’m not alone.”

  “You are out here. We’ve been tracking you for a while, relaying the various turns and twists you’ve taken. Do you even know that you’ve gone in a circle three times?”

  Kevin swallowed.

  “I was trying to draw some of you out.”

  “Of course you were.” Sean returned with a sneer.

  Kevin stared at him for a few seconds while he considered what his next couple of questions should be.

  “Why are there so many of you here? What’s so special about this place?”

  “Do your superiors tell you nothing of what we’re doing?” Sean replied scornfully.

  “We know you’re slaughtering any areas where there are large congregations of survivors, but this city seems a little out of the way.”

  “We’re not simply attacking groups of survivors. We’re doing so much more than that.”

  Kevin looked him over, unsure if he was going to get any more answers from him. It was then he saw that he had a pouch clipped to his belt, which undoubtedly protected a tablet computer like the one Melissa had taken possession of. He cautio
usly moved around and took it, hoping he’d be able to get access to the map application and use it to find his way back to the police station. Kevin knew he needed to do it quickly, as there were almost certainly other Reborn in the area.

  Melissa and Rochelle had avoided taking any main avenues were they could, going down side streets and travelling away from the market but keeping the general direction of the police station on their left, at least, to Melissa’s best reckoning. They encountered only a small number of infected, having done their best to circumvent any street which seemed to have more than two or three. Even so, the infected pursued them whenever they caught their scent, causing Melissa and Rochelle to increase their pace until they were able to turn a corner. Only twice was Melissa called upon to dispatch a pair of them with her knife; the duo having stumbled into them as they passed an open doorway the undead were loitering in. The lack of a collar and the need to stay concealed from the Reborn had made the journey to the last known position of the bus difficult. They moved through the city, cautiously, quietly and with extreme alertness. Melissa had been aware of the distant sound of a helicopter for some time, but it was only when it grew louder, indicating it was coming in their direction, that Melissa felt fear grip her. She knew it would bring with it a horde of infected and as her mind raced to come up with a plan, she stepped out from an alleyway onto a main street - then immediately retreated, jostling Rochelle back. Ignoring Rochelle’s hissed demand to know what was wrong, Melissa crept back to the corner and warily peered out. To the right, about halfway up the main street from where they were, was a large, open space - perhaps a park, perhaps a city centre space, Melissa wasn’t sure. It was illuminated by a number of high powered lights and, although there were a few trees, it was the most open space in the city she’d seen so far - other than the parking lots of the big stores. There were Reborn there, a large number of them, and as she glanced upwards, she saw the helicopter pass overhead and come to a stop above the open space. It was a big helicopter, capable of holding maybe twenty or more people by the size of the cabin. She presumed it would be full of Reborn soldiers, either coming to join the hunt for the Ancillary and herself or to further secure the city. From appearance, it seemed plausible to suppose the area was some kind of staging post for the Reborn, so she quickly decided it might be prudent to scope it out. To that end, Melissa turned back the way they had come, leading the way to the back door they had passed into an apartment building that would, if she could get high enough, give her an overview of the area.

 

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