Deadweight | Book 2 | The Last Bite

by Forster, Paul

  This changed nothing for Amy. She was determined to get more than just an empty rifle and a small first aid kit. The first checkpoint was close, and in the opposite direction to the creature. Carefully, she exited the armoured vehicle. She was all too aware not to concentrate too hard on the obvious threat. There were still regular feeders she needed to be aware of.

  Jack watched as Amy crept the 20 metres to the checkpoint, her journey unnoticed by any of the dead. He was desperate for her to make her way back to the car, but he knew she wouldn’t give up easily.

  A dead soldier laid across the entrance to the checkpoint. They had ripped his body armour open to get at his flesh. Besides the scraps of uniform, the vest and a nearby helmet, it looked just like any of the other corpses. They had wasted barely a morsel of meat. His rifle was gone, Amy gingerly picked at the pouches attached to his webbing, but they’d already been looted or used. The checkpoint was littered with shell casings. They had put up a good, if futile, fight. Inside the small shelter a blood splattered magazine of 5.56mm ammunition and an undischarged taser were sitting on the ground. A good start. There were several boxes, mostly empty. Two torches and a sealed box of batteries would always be useful. Four unopened 24 hour ration packs put a smile on her face. She knew Bo would be keen on any boiled sweets held inside, and they would often be good for a bar of chocolate. A small luxury for the children at the farm. She loaded them inside her rucksack. The creature let out another roar, and she froze. It sounded close. Amy inserted the magazine into the carbine and loaded a round. It was big, but a magazine of ammo to the face would surely stop it.

  She sneaked out and hid behind the checkpoint. The epic bastard was now 20 metres away. It stopped to listen and sniff the air, desperate to hear or smell the human foolish enough to enter its domain. She barely dared to breathe as her heart raced. The damn thing was hunting her. She darted to a group of tents ahead would give her cover to lose the thing. It reduced her visibility to only a few metres, any number of feeders could appear and attack. She was tempted to use the rifle, but that had to be the reserve choice, save it for the huge one if needed. The machete was in her hand as she spotted the first feeder. It thought it was its lucky day, but in fact it was its last as the blade slammed into the top of its head. Amy followed it to the ground and retrieved her weapon. Another roar. It was onto her, it just hadn’t locked on to her yet.

  Amy rounded the corner, and two creatures looked up. Their filthy faces would have smiled if they could. The machete again did its job before Amy’s small knife entered the side of the other monster’s head. She could hear it. She wiped the blood off her weapons and jumped into the nearest standing tent. Thankfully, it was empty. This thing was quick and persistent. A normal fat bastard wouldn’t have followed her so expertly. Amy peered through the door of the tent and it was less than 10 metres away.

  Jack felt helpless as he watched it getting closer to her. He was getting ready, he could be in the camp in 30 seconds and back out in another 20.

  The beast started edging backwards in her direction. In a few moments she’d be trapped. Amy decided it was now or never before she leapt from the tent and pulled the trigger. A single bullet struck its throat with no effect. Amy yanked at the trigger, but nothing. She looked down at the rifle and the previous round was wedged in the extraction port. Had Amy been a trained soldier, she may have been able to clear the malfunction. She wasn’t. Her aim was above average, but she knew nothing of maintaining a service rifle. As the creature edged towards her, she slung the weapon over her shoulder and produced the taser. The monster was close enough for her to deploy the prongs, making a good contact on its chest. The first discharge made it stop its advance. It was confused rather than hurt, but that confusion soon turned to anger. Amy gave it another jolt, and it didn’t stop. She only had one option left, run.

  It was faster than the other big ones; it wasn’t the same as them. She was only just maintaining her slender lead. The conflict had attracted several regular feeders, and they moved to intercept her. She looked over her shoulder and could see to the centre of the camp. The stores were there and intact. Ammunition and food to last years. It was so close, but so far. The large feeder carried on its determined pursuit, making the ground up slowly, confident it would defeat its prey.

  Jack slammed on the brakes as he charged through the camp 20 metres in front of Amy. He popped the door open as ran towards him. Thank fuck. She picked up the pace and dived in, Jack wasted no time in putting his foot down and getting the car out of the danger zone. The small group following didn’t stop but had no hope of catching them. The giant feeder stopped and watched as the white car continued away at speed.

  “That was new,” Jack stated the obvious.

  “Maybe that’s what all the big ones grow into. Or another fucking version of these damned monsters.” Amy slammed the door shut and removed the rucksack.

  “Did you get anything good?”

  “A busted rifle, a magazine, torches, batteries, and some ration packs. Not enough, but something I guess. It was all there, though. I could see it. Food, water, medical supplies, and ammo. They just left it there as if it was worthless, just like the people. Those fuckers ran and left them all,” she ridiculed. Amy felt angry, what those in charge had done and that she had so little to show for the trip. She was already thinking about how they could go back and raid the camp more thoroughly. The risk was high, but so was the reward.

  Chapter 38

  Gerard had been served his meagre rations in the canteen and sat by himself, unnoticed by most. His talent of merging into the background had often helped him get the dirt on opponents when he enjoyed a quiet glass of Merlot in a bar or pub in Westminster. Whilst he enjoyed the finer things in life, he was such an ordinary looking human being he was barely recognisable and completely unremarkable. Life on the ship had changed little for Gerard. Despite his dress sense, others barely acknowledged him. Now his position had become more public in the past few days, he had worried that he might lose one of his key skills. It was soon obvious that nobody cared about him. He was just another suit. Four marines sat on the table in front of him. Each a bitter man, they had been at the sharp end of the recent conflicts and had little time for those in charge.

  “It’s not long, I know McKinley is close to making his move. Trust me,” a young marine spoke a little too loudly, and Gerard locked on to the conversation. His eyes didn’t move. He continued to eat with no change in behaviour, eager to hear more careless whispers.

  “Making his move? He’s locked up, I’ve even heard they have already executed him,” an older marine said, he didn’t believe a word of it.

  “No, it’s true. Guthrie has met with McKinley in his quarters. He told me their only problem is the lack of the special forces boys on their side. They’re loyal to that berk Hollis, and he’s loyal to her,” a third marine got involved in the unnecessarily public conversation.

  “It’s still bullshit, there’s no way anyone is stupid enough to mount a rebellion,” the old marine replied. He was confident his experience meant more than these younger soldiers’ enthusiasm for change.

  “McKinley or her? Who would you follow, given a choice?” the young marine smiled as he pressed his elder.

  “This is the navy, we’re not given choices, we’re given command structures and orders to obey.”

  “Who?” came the further pressing.

  “McKinley, of course, but it doesn’t matter. There will not be a coup,” begrudgingly he answered, nearing anger at this kid getting him to play the silly game.

  Gerard quietly listened. He didn’t think McKinley had it in him to make such a move; he was nearly impressed. Even a hint of a coup d’état would be quite the development, one that would firm up his position as the prime minister’s most trusted adviser. Calmly Gerard finished up his meal, and unnoticed returned his tray of dirty crockery before heading back the prime minister.

  He felt like his head was going to explode with t
he information. He looked at everyone he passed with suspicion, how many were involved? Was he on the winning side? The prime minister was about to piss off the only man who may keep her in power. In a fit of anger, she may even relieve admiral Hollis of his duties. That didn’t automatically mean the Special Boat Service soldiers would turn on her and join the usurpers, but it wouldn’t help her cause. Maybe she hadn’t bollocked him yet. That would make everything much more straightforward. He felt his pace quickening as he rushed to her quarters.

  The sentry at her door wasn’t expecting Gerard but saw his security pass and vaguely recognised him. “She’s meeting with the admiral.”

  Maybe there was still time. “I have to see her now, it’s of the utmost importance.”

  The sentry looked at him, unsure of whether he’d get in more trouble for letting him in or refusing access. He stepped to the side and Gerard swung the door open, startling those inside. The admiral seemed relaxed. He didn’t look like a man who’d sacked or screamed at. The PM seemed calm, but unhappy with the interruption.

  “Prime minister, I need to talk with you immediately.” Gerard couldn’t bring himself to more than glance at the admiral.

  “What is it?” she snapped.

  Gerard moved towards her and led her to the back of the room. “McKinley is mounting a coup.”

  “He’s what? He’s locked up! He wouldn’t dare!” she exclaimed. She refused to believe he’d be so stupid.

  “There is widespread support for the general, he’s making his move imminently,” Gerard said, he needed her to believe him.

  “I want him here in two minutes, send a dozen marines to secure him,” she ordered. She could barely contain her anger.

  “Prime minister, he has the support of the marines. As I understand it, we can rely only on the SBS to be loyal to your administration. And only with Hollis in charge,” Gerard murmured. The hushed tones of Gerard as he mentioned the admirals’ name made Hollis turn to see what was going on.

  “Admiral, the reason I asked you to join me is that we’ve had word that a mutiny is afoot,” she said and paused for a moment to read him, to see if he was part of the conspiracy. The look of shock on his face suggested he was innocent. “I believe there are few we can trust. I trust you, and I trust the special boat service. I need you to discreetly put the SBS on alert, I want a personal protection detail and McKinley brought to me at once to answer for his crimes.”

  Hollis was sure he was about to be unceremoniously fired and relished the loss of responsibilities. He had been looking forward to a simpler life away from command, but now seemed closer to the top than ever before. A greater sense of importance and pride swept over him. Maybe he did still lust after power. “I’ll get right on it. I’ll bring the bastard here myself.”

  The PM locked the door behind the admiral and produced a small revolver from her desk draw. She sat herself down behind the desk and gripped the pistol; ready to put all five bullets into anyone who thought they could take her position away from her.

  Chapter 39

  Whilst the soldiers were away, Peter had proved his value. Spencer had marked on the dirt and grass within the compound where he wanted more foxholes dug. It was a never-ending task, but the soldiers believed it was an important one. He thought there was an element of busy work attached to the task, especially to keep him out of the way. But he appreciated being kept busy. He’d been alone with his thoughts for too long, a task to occupy his mind was a welcome distraction. With the shovel and empty sandbags, Peter had been working for hours. It was exhausting work, especially for him. He had helped over the last few days digging several small defensive positions, so believed he knew what he was doing. Careful to ensure they were neither too deep nor too shallow. Looking at his handiwork, he knew the soldiers would mock him. He also knew anyone of them would happily dive into one should they come under attack.

  When the sound of the helicopter reached him, Peter could barely stand. He thought to himself that if the feeders suddenly burst through the fence, he wouldn’t have the strength to run or lift the pistol to defend himself. It did a single lap of the compound before it touched down on its spot.

  The men hopped out, rifles ready, but were soon at ease.

  “Been busy, Peter?” Gary asked. He instantly started admiring the new foxholes, “Good depth, right size. The sandbags look alright too. Nice work.”

  Peter smiled at the praise. Billy and Mike walked past him and nodded in approval.

  “How’s the fort been?” Spencer smiled at Peter, he was glad he hadn’t just sat around and instead shown some initiative.

  “Surrounded by the dead, as usual, otherwise fine,” he replied. Peter’s confidence grew.

  “We’re going to wash up in the barracks. You know, you should move yourself in. It makes little sense for you to sleep on the floor in a small office when we have over a dozen spare beds you could choose from,” he said. Spencer knew Peter’s concerns and didn’t want to press him too hard.

  “I don’t enjoy sleeping on the ground floor with them about. I feel secure where I am,” Peter stated. He shrunk back inside of himself, a little ashamed that he was still afraid.

  “It’s your call, Pete. Outstanding work on the foxholes,” Spencer complimented. He left Peter as the crew unloaded the helicopter.

  “Peter, little help?” Kyle called him over and Peter jogged to assist. They didn’t need him, but it was nice to feel part of the team.

  “How’d it look out there?” Peter hadn’t dared to ask one of the SAS team.

  “Dead everywhere. We saw some survivors, some friendly, others not so much. We didn’t get our man though, so I think tomorrow we’ll be doing more of the same,” was the reply. Andy swept out the shell casings from the machine guns.

  Peter felt a little disheartened. He’d be on his own again tomorrow.

  “Petey, do you play poker?” Sebastian exited the cockpit, lighting his cigar.

  “I used to play a bit online,” Peter responded. PistolPete666 had won often at the virtual poker tables, but he’d never played a real live game of cards.

  “Online? Of course you did,” Sebastian said as he smirked and looked at his two door gunners. “We’ve got a game on tonight if you’re interested?” Sebastian asked, he was always looking for a new mug to beat.

  “I don’t have any money,” Peter shared. Again he withdrew into himself.

  “Same as the rest of us then, don’t worry. We’ll work something out. Barracks at 9pm,” Sebastian insisted, before he made his way to the barracks, leaving his crew and Peter to help clear the chopper.

  Inside the barracks, the SAS team were already removing their gear and Mike was the first to disappear into the shower. Spencer was still in his full kit, examining maps and marking off the day’s locations. He wanted to capture as much of their progress as he could before providing his superiors an update. They wouldn’t be excited, but nobody expected them to disappear for a long weekend and return with their target. It was a needle in a haystack and one of many avenues those in charge were exploring. For 10 minutes his head didn’t look up from the papers he’d spread out in front of him. His men were already showered and getting changed by the time he’d finished.

  “Spencer, do you want me to report in?” Mike offered. He was more than capable of performing the update. The operator at the other end of the satellite phone didn’t care who they spoke to.

  “Cheers Mike. It’s all marked down. I’ll check the perimeter before I wash up.”

  Spencer left the barracks and observed Peter working with Andy and Kyle. It brought a smile to his face to see them just mucking about, but still doing the job. Walking the fence line, he looked into the eyes of several creatures. Why had they massed here? He couldn’t think of a good reason. In the towns and cities, the noise of survivors would attract them and they’d develop into hordes as they followed their senses to food. But here? It was the middle of nowhere, yet half the local towns’ inhabitants, who had tu
rned, had wandered to this compound. He stopped and listened. All he could hear now were the groans and snarls of these monsters. He could see the large generators and walked closer to them. A low hum, that was barely audible. It couldn’t have been that, surely? The feeders had impressive hearing and sense of smell, maybe they could sense its vibrations? It would help to explain the fall of all the rescue camps. The dead always turned up in large numbers, eventually. When it was chaos inside and the survivors revolted, the dead just had to wait for their chance. Spencer carried on his patrol. He’d finish, shower, eat and then watch the guys play cards. It wasn’t fair for him to win their shit, so he’d just watch and relax.

  Chapter 40

  Only the moonlight illuminated the bedroom inside of the cottage, Natasha on top of William, slowly riding him. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but neither seemed that into it. Natasha picked up speed, trying to get her obligation finished. William just stared at the ceiling, his mind elsewhere. Fed up, Natasha rolled off of William. “Why don’t you just stay in your bloody lab?” she fumed.

  William sat up, snapping out of his daze. “I’m sorry. I’m so very close, I know it.”

  “We have all the time in the world to be boring. Why the rush? We have live food here and we could even go for a hunt, we might stumble across a survivor and we could devour them together,” she said. Natasha had the taste for the hunt again, taking down live prey rather than just picking at the souls chained up in the basement.

  “We don’t need to. With my cure, we’ll have all the food we ever need, no risk, no starvation,” William promised. He was very different from Natasha, he took no thrill from the hunt. The inefficiency and danger made the whole idea of hunting unappealing.