They broke the world and ripped my life apart. I’m going to do my best to take back what’s mine.
Don’t give up hope, Jack. It’s all we’ve got left.
— 26 —
Jack fought against the strong undertow and currents. He kicked to the surface, pulling George with him. He cradled the child in a lifesaver’s embrace and gulped for air. With the added weight of George, Jack realised that his backpack had to go. Grunting with the effort he managed to slip off one strap, then the other. Finally the pack slid from his shoulders. He watched as it bobbed in the swirling river and the current swept it away towards the bank. He would miss it. It had been a good friend for some years now, since Dee had given it to him as a gift.
The cacophony of screeches and howls broke into his thoughts as the torrent drove him away from the dam, lessening the roar of flowing water. He closed his eyes briefly, cursing silently. For a second there, everything had been normal. When he opened them again, he couldn’t miss the monsters. They were racing along the tops of the steep cliffs on either side of the river, keeping up with his and George’s progress downstream. The thick undergrowth barely slowed them as they took to the trees, swinging from branch to branch and leaping over rocks as if they weren’t there.
Jack kicked hard, willing the current to move him down the river faster. The sun was getting high in the sky now. He hoped it would force the monsters back to their nest. As he floated, the creatures continued their relentless pursuit, screeching at him. Every now and then he heard the almighty bellow of the leader. He could just picture it, weird bark skin and spiked shoulders, and the grotesque child-head trophies. Jack couldn’t see him, but he would never forget the sight of the two decaying children’s heads displayed, jiggling with the beast’s every movement.
Frantically he searched for a way out. They had made it this far. Alive, bruised, broken and injured — well, he was — but alive. He didn’t want to give up now. He had fought to break away from his cocoon. He had found some salvation in George. He had discovered the reason behind their capture. They had escaped. All this would be for nothing if he didn’t find a way for them to reach safety.
Feeling George nestled into his chest, hanging on to him for any sort of comfort, confirmed it. He was thankful. Thankful for this chance at redemption. Jack looked around. He had trained as a lifesaver in his youth, but with all the trauma his body had gone through, he wouldn’t last much longer in the river.
Farther down, he could still see the limestone cliffs soaring high. At the bottom, little pockets of bank had eroded away to form muddy coves covered in a thick tangled mess of tree roots and scrub. He could see the bright green of his hiking pack floating close by.
As far as Jack could see, there weren’t any monsters in the scrub. Their screeches sounded close, though. He really needed to get out of the river. Risking it, he kicked towards one of the muddy coves and his pack. Pushing George in front of him, he pulled his exhausted body out of the river, hooking his leg through the strap of his pack as he did so. To have any chance at survival, he needed his pack, so he was thankful it had been waiting. Cold water dripped off his head, splattering onto the mud. Jack was having trouble focussing on his immediate surroundings. He realised the last few days were taking their toll. Wiping river water from his eyes, he crawled under the mess of roots. Exhausted, he leaned up against the tree and took a few deep breaths.
George sat panting, his eyes flicking around.
“It’s okay, George,” Jack said. “We’re going to hide for a while.”
Jack looked down at the thick mud coating his legs and arms and smiled. He could just hear Dee laugh at him and say. “You and your movies.”
He scooped up handfuls of mud and started to coat George with it. “Sorry, buddy. I know it’s cold and gross, but we need to hide from the monsters.”
Jack made sure the kid was completely covered before doing himself. Maybe it will work. It was worth a shot.
The creatures clearly had excellent vision and a heightened sense of smell, not to mention exceptional hearing. As exhausted as he was, he knew that if he wanted any chance of getting down the river, they had to hide out for now and rest.
They had achieved the impossible: they had escaped hell.
Since learning of the virus, Jack had been trying to get home to Dee. They had always had a “what if?” plan. But no amount of planning and preparation had readied him for the horrors that hunted him now. He had always been a keen outdoors type and had learned the hard way that you needed to be prepared for anything.
One spring day, a day hike turned into a three-day nightmare. The weather was cool, clear and crisp as he set off on his six-hour return hike up one of the many valleys cutting their way through the mountains close to his home.
The trip up the valley passed without incident. On the return journey, he slipped on a wet rock and caught his boot on a tree root. The result was that he broke his ankle as he tumbled down a steep ravine.
Jack shouted for help until he lost his voice. He had broken the cardinal rule: he hadn’t told anyone of his intentions.
With little hope of rescue, Jack spent the next three days crawling out of the ravine, and then farther down the river to the more popular walking tracks. A very surprised group of elderly hikers found an extremely dehydrated and hungry Jack.
The relief had been immense. He had learned his lesson. Now he followed a strict code of conduct.
Always be prepared.
Branches behind Jack snapped as the creatures shrieked and howled around him. Answering howls joined the monsters as they ran up and down the river hunting for their lost prey. Jack glanced down at George who had his knees tucked under him and eyes clenched shut. Jack prayed for his mud trick to work. It was all he had left. He had no weapons apart from the machete. If the creatures did find them, he figured he could maybe kill one; at a stretch, two.
The closest monster let out a screech, its pitch deafening. Jack held George’s hand tight as the mud-covered kid snuggled into him, shaking. Closer now, the screeching intensified. Jack struggled to keep himself from shaking.
Go away…go away…go away…
A howl right above him nearly made him jump back into the flowing water. Opening his eyes, he checked his escape route. Looking out at the river, Jack couldn’t believe his eyes.
A large motorboat was slowly making its way up towards the dam. He wanted to yell out a warning to the tall, brown-haired figure. It was hard to tell, but Jack thought he looked to be only a teenager.
The figure glanced from side to side, watching the howling monsters on top of the cliffs. Jack could see he was being careful to keep the boat in the middle of the river.
With a horrific screech, the creature above Jack tore off after the boat, following it back towards the nest.
Holding a trembling George, Jack rocked the boy back and forth, trying to soothe him.
“It’s okay, they’ve gone for now,” he whispered. “We’re going to eat the last of my food, then we’re going to have to get back in the river, all right?”
George whimpered into Jack’s chest.
Watching the disappearing boat, Jack wondered what the hell the kid on the boat was thinking?
Has the whole world gone mad?
— 27 —
Dee stared at the hydro dam as Ben pulled to the side of the road and brought the 4x4 to a stop. She could see the dam stretching across the river, a high cliff dropping away on the opposite bank.
A small electrical substation nestled against the side of the bank she stood on, and beyond, a road stretched across the dam wall, following its curve.
“We go in there, nice and slow,” Ben said. He was pointing at the larger building below the substation. “Shoot anything that’s not human. Go for their centre mass to bring them down, then once in the head, okay?”
Dee nodded. “Got it. Rule two. Double tap.”
“If they attack en mass, just fire until you’ve got nothing lef
t. When you reload, shout it so I can cover you.”
Dee looked at Ben. She was determined but scared. Scared of failing. Failing to find Jack. Scared of dying. Dying without knowing what had happened to him. To anyone she cared about. She sighed and looked down at the AR-15, feeling the weight of it.
Ben placed a hand on her shoulder. “Just point and shoot, kid. Give them hell. We find Jack, we retreat straight away.”
Dee followed close behind Ben as they crept up to the large set of wooden doors. She could detect the rotten fruit smell that lingered around the beasts, a sure indicator they were here. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself.
Ben reached out and tried the handle. It gave. Dee watched as he pushed the door wider. She took a last deep breath to help centre herself and followed him through. She took up a covering position like they had practised back at the bunker. Scanning the small room, she could see a little desk to one side but no other furniture.
Ben indicated with his head for her to cover him. He opened up the next door, revealing a steel set of stairs going down. The reek of rotten fruit made Dee gag. Another stench wafted in. She wasn’t quite sure, but it reminded her of decaying flesh.
The thought of what lay beyond, at the bottom of the stairs, horrified her. Ben looked at her, his eyes asking if she was all right. She nodded, and they descended into the stench.
Opening the door at the bottom of the stairs, Dee saw what true horror looked like in the corridor beyond. People were stuck to the walls, trapped in some weird membrane. Cocooned. Their faces serene. Her heart pounded, her breath quickened. Praying for her Jack, she frantically ran down the corridor, searching the faces for him. She ignored Ben’s pleading for her to slow down.
On she ran, searching. With each successive stranger’s face, her hope of finding Jack alive dwindled. She nearly tripped over the body of a man, blood pooled around his head. Letting out a gasp, she dropped to her knees and pulled the body over. Not recognising the face, Dee let the pent-up tears flow.
Ben reached down and hauled her to her feet. “We have to keep going.” He gestured down the long corridor.
Dee wiped away her tears. “I thought it was him for a moment.” She gripped her rifle tighter, feeling the anger building in her body. Seeing the fate of these people drew up the hate that had dwelled deep down for so long. Dee had learned long ago to control that instinct. But seeing this place brought it out. She wanted to make those responsible pay. To exterminate them.
Dee and Ben made their way farther down the corridor, Ben covering as Dee searched the faces. The stench of death and decay became overpowering as they reached a large green door. It stood ajar, splintered on both sides of the door jamb.
Ben poked his head around the door. She saw his eyes go wide in horror.
Screeching erupted from the room, chilling her. Ben spun to Dee. “Run now, fast! Go!”
Dee turned to run. The screeching grew louder. Ben slammed the useless door and brought his rifle up to his shoulder.
The Variants smashed through the broken door and Ben opened fire. Firing quick bursts, he quickly took down the first three. Dee raised her own weapon as she turned to help and aimed for a Variant crawling up the wall beside them. She fired, hitting it right in its torso and taking a chunk off one of its weird claw-like appendages. She watched, amazed, as it kept coming at her. Firing again, she blasted it straight in the throat. The Variant slumped to the ground, dead. More Variants replaced it.
Man, these things are fast.
The next few minutes became a blur of terror. Dee fired again and again into the writhing mass of hell, but still they came.
She went into a state of automatic trance. Aim, fire, reload, repeat.
While she was reloading, a Variant crawled over the body of one she had dropped and raked its claws down her leg.
Screaming out in agony, Dee smashed the stock of the AR-15 into its head. Again and again she bashed it. Black blood oozed out of its head but still it came. It screeched and slashed at her with its claws. The creature smacked its sucker mouth together and flicked out a forked tongue.
Dee slung the rifle over her shoulder and drew her katana. She lunged and speared the Variant through the throat. The black, gunky blood gushed out over her hands. She watched the demon light leave its eyes and she grunted with relief.
Dee looked around for Ben. He was firing into the last group and finally dropped the last two Variants with a quick burst. Ben looked over to Dee clutching her leg.
“You all right?”
“I’ll live, I think.”
“Good. C’mon. Time to leave.”
Dee shook her head. “I need to find Jack.”
“I’m sorry Dee, I really am, but I think he’s gone.”
“You don’t know that!” Dee shouted.
Ben moved closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. “No, I don’t, but you need to live. If not for you, then do it for Jack. Carry on, for him.”
Dee shook her head again, harder this time. “I’m not leaving without knowing,” she said and brushed past Ben.
Dee had taken a few steps down the corridor when a terrifying screech caused both of them to turn. Several Variants were approaching from the direction in which she and Ben had entered. More screeches and howls answered them. Looking over Ben’s shoulder, she could see a door with a red sign. The walls had been smashed in on both sides of the door.
Ben turned and saw what Dee was looking at. “Go! Yes!”
Bursting into the room through one of the holes in the wall, Dee saw a barricade made from metal lockers. Jack? Hope to find her husband alive in this den of terror returned. She clambered up on top of the lockers. Ben started firing at the screeching Variants.
“Ben, up here!”
She racked her shotgun and blasted at the Variants as they clambered through the holes. Ben was struggling to haul himself up as he turned and fired another burst.
She blasted another Variant, the sound deafening as it echoed off the walls of the small room.
A Variant screeched and, launching itself through the air, latched on to Ben’s back, digging its claws in deep.
Dee let out a howl in frustration and anger, jammed her shotgun into its sucker and blew its head off, showering both of them in brains and black gunk.
“Thank you,” Ben said, pulling himself up.
They climbed into the ceiling, turning and firing as they went. Variants continued to pour through the holes, chasing after them.
Dee reached a small tunnel with light shining through. Blood had pooled on the floor next to the entrance.
Jack? Are you alive?
“Get in the tunnel, NOW!” Ben yelled at her, pulling her back into reality.
Dee didn’t argue. She threw herself into the tunnel and crawled through to the end.
Ben jumped in after her. The Variants pursuing them tore at the concrete surrounding the tunnel as they tried to follow the fleeing humans. They ripped at each other in their desperation. They could have fitted easily but, in their crazed hunger lust, their cognitive thoughts were abandoned. The Variants fought each other. Dee smiled and crawled farther down the passage.
One of the Variants crammed itself in. Shrieking, it tried to tear Ben apart.
Ben fired into its head point blank, silencing it.
“Dee, get ready to jump, okay? Into the river!”
Shell-shocked from the last twenty minutes, she nodded.
Ben reached into his vest and took out a small grenade. He joined Dee at the entrance and grabbed her in a hug.
“Fire in the hole,” Ben shouted. He threw the grenade and launched into the river.
Dee felt the shockwave of the grenade as she fell towards the water, wrapped in the embrace of this gentle giant. Before she hit the water, she saw Boss coming upriver in the boat and grinned. She was still alive.
— 28 —
Jack took out the last of his meagre supplies and shared them with George. The poor kid sat hugging his knee
s, rocking back and forth. Jack wasn’t surprised. It had been a hell-filled few days for them both; he felt like doing the same. Watching George, Jack wanted more than anything to survive, to find Dee. To keep George safe.
After going through so much, and fighting every step of the way, he didn’t want to give in now, no matter how hopeless it seemed.
There is always a way out.
Jack sat listening for the creatures’ howls but could only hear them in the distance. Crawling out of their muddy root cave, he pulled George up and lifted him onto the bank.
Pop… Pop… Pop.
Jack spun around, back towards the dam. That was gunfire. Muffled, but definitely gunfire.
Hesitating, he listened as it intensified. The sounds of two distinct gunshots came down the river, reverberating off the limestone cliffs. Perhaps some kind of rifle? Jack couldn’t be sure. Then the unmistakable boom of a shotgun rang out. He recognised that straight away. His mind jolted back to a memory of Dee teaching him how to hold the gun against his shoulder. She patiently taught him how to line up the target. How to squeeze the trigger in between breaths.
Those idiots are going to bring that whole nest out…
Jack stood rooted to the spot, listening to the battle. He glanced around at the creatures as they ran howling and screeching back to the dam. Finally Jack looked down the river. “Hang on to this George, okay?” Jack said as he looped the much lighter pack over the boy’s shoulders.
The two of them waded back out into the river. He nestled George in the lifesaver’s embrace once again and let the current take them downstream, away from the gunfight. Away from the madness. Jack saw it as a slim window of opportunity. Flee while the creatures were distracted.
He could see the sun poking through the fluffy white clouds, its rays reflecting off the river and into his eyes. Jack wondered why the monsters were out in the midday sun. Normally they hid from its strong UV light.
The Rule of Three (Extinction New Zealand Book 1) Page 15