Capital Falling | Book 4 | Sever

by Winkless, Lance

  At the end of the driveway, both men pause, hiding behind any available cover that will give them a good vantage point to scan the street ahead. They mean to go left out of the driveway, in the opposite direction to where the Warrior vehicle was attacked and then destroyed.

  Jason gives Tyrone a thumbs up to signal all clear and he then chops the air in a forward motion. Staying low behind his rifle, Tyrone eases himself out into the open and onto the pavement.

  Feeling exposed as he follows Tyrone out into the open, Jason wonders if perhaps they should have commandeered the car, sat idle on David’s driveway. He quickly disregards the thought though; it wouldn’t have been right to effectively strand the family where they are. Also, a car, although quicker would draw more attention. At least on foot, they can try to stay inconspicuous, using their training and senses to stay out of danger.

  Quietly, slowly, and steadily does it, Jason thinks to himself as they progress along the pavement. The muzzle of Tyrone’s rifle zigzags through the air like a bumblebee looking for nectar as it searches every crevice and blind spot for signs of the enemy. Jason’s boots creep forward sideways, behind his comrade as he watches their rear.

  Tyrone makes good progress with Jason in support, and none of the undead creatures has shown themselves as they approach the end of the street. The only faces they see are the ones looking out of the houses they pass. Men, women, and children watch them as they edge by, from a good proportion of the houses. None of the haunted faces moves to open their front doors to try and converse with the two soldiers creeping along their road. The residents daren’t come out into the open, they hide in the sanctuary of their homes and Jason doesn’t blame them, not one iota.

  Jason signals for Tyrone to take cover in the driveway of the last house on the street before the road junction next to it. Tyrone nods his understanding, having already taken a step towards the cover, the two men in sync.

  “You read my mind,” Jason whispers under his breath as the two men become hidden behind the sparse foliage decorating the end of the house's driveway.

  “It takes it out of you, doesn’t it? My arms are burning, and my back is stiff,” Tyrone answers.

  Jason’s are too; holding a rifle out front and stalking forward becomes very tiresome over long distances. There are only two ways to negate the strain; take a breather or train harder! Jason consoles himself in the fact that they would have had to stop anyway to recce the junction before crossing it, as he agrees with his comrade.

  There is no need to get the map out to check their route, as both men know in which general direction they need to head from studying the map while they were in the utility room earlier. A quick check of a compass tells them they need to cross straight over the junction and keep heading in the same direction.

  “I don’t like the look of this weather,” Tyrone says as they scan the junction.

  “Me neither. Let’s move out, it looks clear ahead,” Jason replies.

  “It looks too quiet to me,” Tyrone points out as the muzzle of his rifle rises, and his legs push him up to move out.

  Jason feels the same apprehension as he follows Tyrone out from behind the bush and they step out into the junction. There is no cover on the crossroads and both men crouch even lower, moving in double time as they begin to cross the wide junction.

  Less than halfway across, with the two men out in the open, a roaring noise quickly begins to build from behind them, from the direction of the street they have just left. Neither man looks back to see what the noise is, they both instinctively know what the sound is immediately. Cursing their luck that the sound has arrived at the most inopportune moment, they pick their speed up to get across the road and to cover as fast as they can.

  Tyrone reaches the cover of the car first and Jason’s back slams against the same parked car as he ducks behind it while the noise builds to a crescendo. Jason only gives the two approaching helicopters a cursory look as they fly above the road that the two soldiers have had to meticulously stalk down in only a matter of seconds. In that quick glance, he sees that the lead helicopter has a strange-looking piece of kit hanging from below its belly.

  Tyrone sees the same, but neither man can afford to be staring at the sky to get a better look at the object. Their eyes are on the streets around them and searching for any sign of the enemy.

  The two helicopters pass overhead of their position. The whirring of the machine’s engines and the roar of their rotors buffeting into their eardrums with a vengeance. The assault doesn’t last, and within seconds the cry of the helicopter begins to fade and move away from their position.

  The soldiers stay low behind their rifles, their backs pinned against the car. Neither man is in any hurry to show themselves, waiting until the disturbance passes and things settle down again.

  Their patience doesn’t pay off, however; the helicopter may have moved off but not far. The buzz of their engines still whines in the distance, and there is another noise that wasn’t present before, a disturbing noise that is getting louder.

  “Do you hear that?” Tyrone asks from beside Jason.

  “Yes, I fucking do, can you see anything?”

  Tyrone doesn’t answer Jason’s question; his concentration is focused on the sights of his rifle, his eye squeezed against it. A vein pumps in the side of Tyrone’s neck, Jason notices as he glances back. Tyrone’s neck is pushing forwards with his rifle, hoping that those couple of extra centimetres will improve his view.

  “They’re coming, straight down the road,” Tyrone announces, referring to the same road they have just crossed from.

  “How many?” Jason asks quickly, almost tempted to move his sights away from his zone to see.

  “A shit load, and they’re moving fast, so we need to go. Are you clear, because I’m not sure that’s where the noise is coming from?”

  “Yes, clear, let’s move,” Jason responds, but he can only see a short distance in front before the road disappears around a bend. He can only tell his comrade what he can see, and the other road, the one they planned to take, which is on his left, is definitely clear.

  Jason hurries forward and low, then left around the back of the parked car. He doesn’t take his eyes off the bend until it quickly leaves his line of sight as he steps onto the pavement of the road they had planned to take.

  Tyrone follows Jason towards the back of the car, but just as he goes to turn left, he sees movement ahead coming around the bend in the road.

  “Contact,” Tyrone announces, just loud enough for Jason to hear, whilst trying not to draw attention from the stream of the undead that is rounding the corner. With any luck, they won’t see me before I’m out of sight, Tyrone thinks desperately.

  A wave of fear shudders through Jason when he hears Tyrone say the word ‘contact’. Even though the bend is now out of sight for him, he can’t help but look around at the road behind him. The mistake hits Jason like a hammer when his concentration returns to the area in front of him, where it shouldn’t have left, and his fear turns to terror.

  A large male beast has appeared as if from nowhere on the pavement not more than ten feet in front of him. The shock makes Jason’s legs go weak and he almost falls over himself trying to stop himself from careering straight into the fearsome creature.

  Jason is slow to react, his arms sluggish in positioning his rifle to aim at the zombie in front of him. Jason peers at the beast as he struggles to get his arms to work. His shock deepens from the evil eyes that stare back, which weakens the muscles in his arms further.

  Slowly, he manages to get the rifle into some sort of firing position, and he centres his aim, but there is no hope of a headshot. Luckily, the beast is also surprised by its sudden encounter and its face is only now turning from that surprise and into fearful determination to attack. The vital short delay from the beast enables Jason to squeeze the trigger on the SA80 that his arms can barely hold steady, just as the creature moves to attack.

  Jason’s rifle ri
ngs out as the bullet exits the muzzle, but his confidence that the bullet will hit its target is sorely missing. The creature’s arms raising towards its prey as its shadow shortens on the pavement towards Jason.

  Dark black blood ejects out of the back right shoulder of the beast as it lurches forward, Jason’s bullet managing to at least hit its target. The impact of the shot forces the creature’s body to recoil sideways, a deathly scream escaping its hideous mouth.

  Adrenaline finally enters Jason’s bloodstream, and he feels the strength the chemical brings to his flagging muscles. His newfound vigour doesn’t come a moment too soon, and all the bullet has done is increase the beast’s anger. It regains its momentum forward and reaches to take hold of its prey. Jason’s reflexes finally return, and the rifle pulls back snugly into his shoulder and he fires it again.

  Jason sees the second bullet pierce through the grey matted skin of the beast’s forehead and instantaneously, the back of his attacker’s head erupts. The creature drops like a stone to the ground, its body thudding against the pavement that its ejected brains splatter across.

  A figure flies past Jason’s right hand side almost in a blur. “Fucking run!” Tyrone screams at him, not slowing to assess Jason’s situation. A fresh dose of adrenaline courses through Jason’s veins, the tap now fully open. His legs react immediately to Tyrone’s scream and they fling him over the dead zombie’s body in front of him to chase after Tyrone.

  Motoring after Tyrone, Jason has learnt his lesson and doesn’t risk looking back over his shoulder; he knows what is there. His legs swerve to follow his comrade as Tyrone breaks right, off the pavement and into the road to sprint down the middle of it where there are no obstructions. The turn gives Jason a glimpse of what they are running from and the horror fuels his legs to lift higher and stretch further.

  Meters behind them, ploughing down the road after them, is an army of the undead. The fleeting look does not give Jason a chance to estimate how many creatures are coming for them, but it’s a darn sight more than they barely managed to escape from through the green door. That near escape feels like a distant memory that happened days ago, but it didn’t; it was only hours ago, and now they are running for their lives again.

  Tyrone’s bulk starts to slow him down, Jason can see that he is struggling, and he knows he is huffing to keep up his speed. Jason’s legs are tiring too, their fix of adrenaline almost exhausted, as the tap has suddenly been turned off. He isn’t racing him, but finds himself drawing level with Tyrone, and worryingly, the other members of the race are starting to gain on them.

  An exit, we need an exit, Jason’s mind screams and his eyes dart in every direction to look for one as his legs begin to give way. There, his eyes fall on an opening just past the last house on the right, next to a long wall that continues to follow the road down, instead of along the houses. The narrow opening looks like an alleyway, but he can’t be sure and they haven’t time to investigate. There is no choice; it’s their only option.

  “Opening, two o’clock,” Jason shouts and Tyrone sees it immediately. He too isn’t sure about the opening or where it could possibly go, but his legs are about to stall. There is no choice but to gamble and let Jason take the lead. Tyrone changes direction slightly, aiming for the gap.

  Jason shouts again, and this time the word does give Tyrone some confidence; he has never been happier to hear the word ‘grenade’ in his whole sorry life.

  Ripping the grenade from his combat vest, Jason’s hands jerk out the pin as his boots hit the ground. The discarded pin falls, clattering against the tarmac. Then, as they draw nearer the opening, Jason lets Tyrone take the lead. He moves behind Tyrone’s badly swaying body. Carefully gripping the explosive in his hand, he moves it around to the small of his back where he simply opens his hand to release the grenade.

  Jason hears the grenade’s lever spring away from the outer body and then hears the lump of metal, with its explosives, bang against the road where it bounces and bangs once again.

  Tyrone disappears through the bricked opening that is peppered with overgrown grass and weeds. Jason follows him in at speed, not daring to slow in case he has miscalculated his timings and the grenade goes off before he is behind cover. His hands reach out to push him off the wall of the opening to help him turn the corner. Feeling his palms graze against the rough surface, he just manages not to slam into the wall.

  Just registering a path and daylight ahead, Jason feels a wave of relief just as the grenade explodes. His hands rise above his head in reflex as the supersonic shockwave rushes past the opening, even though he is behind cover. The ground beneath his feet shudders, but within seconds, Jason is looking ahead to see where they need to go. He knows the explosion will have hardly made a dent in the number of undead pursuing them, but hopefully, it will have been the diversion they need to lose the horde. The opening was only small after all.

  Chapter 3

  “Move!” Jason orders. Tyrone, heavily panting and bent over is a few feet farther down the alleyway, which is walled with brick down each side. Tyrone’s face is glistening with sweat as he straightens his back, and Jason’s is too; he can feel the sweat running down it. Both men break into a fast jog towards the daylight ahead of them.

  Wailing screeches from behind force Jason to look back. His head turns towards the opening of the alleyway, his body ready to stop running and to turn and shoot, should it need to. A cloud of smoke and dust is blocking most of the light entering the alleyway, but shadows move in the haze, he is sure of it. Jason’s head quickly turns forward to check his direction before it goes back again. Nothing is behind him; the shadows are going straight past the opening, carrying on their hunt down the road.

  Relief puts a new spring in Jason’s step and he quickly catches up to Tyrone, who he had fallen behind whilst looking back.

  “I think it worked, I think they are going straight past the opening,” Jason tells Tyrone from behind.

  “Thank fuck for that. My legs couldn’t have kept going much longer at that speed,” Tyrone pants.

  “Mine neither,” Jason replies.

  “Well done mate, that was a close one,” Tyrone congratulates.

  “Too fucking close,” Jason agrees.

  “What now?”

  “I don’t know, let’s see where this leads to,” Jason answers as they near the daylight at the end of the alleyway.

  “To the pub hopefully,” Tyrone says flatly. “I could murder a pint.”

  “Me too mate, me too,” Jason agrees.

  Nearing the end of the alleyway, they stop running and begin their approach to the exit. Jason takes the left and Tyrone the right as they stalk deliberately forwards, prepared for anything.

  Beyond the exit is a lush green expanse of grass which is dotted with trees that sway heavily in the growing wind. Rain is coming, heavy rain and possibly worse; Jason can feel it. They could be in for a storm, which is just our luck right now, he thinks.

  “What you reckon?” Tyrone asks.

  “It’s wide open, isn’t it? Not much cover,” Jason replies as he looks at his compass.

  “Yes, but I can’t see any zombies, which is always a bonus.”

  “A big bonus,” Jason agrees. “We need to head that way,” he says, pointing in a direction parallel to the road they have just escaped from.

  “Maybe a change of direction might be advisable? That direction could lead us straight back into the arms of our undead friends,” Tyrone suggests.

  “I don’t think we got much choice mate. South is back in the direction we came, and east will take us deeper into the city, away from the perimeter,” Jason points out.

  “Fuck’s sake.” is Tyrone’s only input to Jason’s reasoning, as his focus moves to the direction Jason had pointed to.

  “Let’s move out. I’ve got a feeling this weather is going to shift soon.”

  “It doesn’t look good,” Tyrone agrees as he steps out of the exit and onto the grass.

  Hous
es in the not-too-distant view tell them that the park isn’t excessively big. Tyrone estimates it will take ten minutes or so to cross it and he quickly picks up his speed into another fast jog. He aims for a cluster of trees branching up from the ground close by, wanting to get out of the open and to cover in quick time.

  Jason follows him across the grass which snags into his boots and is overdue a cut. Tyrone takes up a position behind the fattest tree trunk in the cluster of trees aiming his rifle beyond, where Jason joins him.

  “What the fuck is that?” Tyrone asks looking out from behind the trunk.

  Jason doesn’t need to search for long before he sees what Tyrone is referring to. Stood about halfway across the clearing is a dark green tower, approximately three meters in height, with some apparatus mounted on top. The man-made structure looks completely alien in its surroundings and the lifting straps that dangle from the top prove that it is a new arrival.

  “I’ve seen that before,” Jason says. “That is what the helicopters were transporting when they flew over us.”

  “What is it? It’s not a piece of kit I’m familiar with.”

  “Me neither mate, I haven’t a clue,” Jason agrees.

  “It could be some kind of monitoring station?” Tyrone suggests.

  “Possibly? Whatever it is, it won’t help us, let’s get moving.”

  Jason moves first this time, pushing himself up off the tree trunk and venturing out into the open, again moving forward in quick time. Tyrone doesn’t delay in following and they both begin to move across the clearing that the structure stands idly in.

  “Here comes the rain,” Jason announces when he feels the first cool drops of water hit his face as he runs.

  Despite the tower offering the only cover until the trees on the other side of the clearing, neither man takes a path to make use of it. They give it a wide berth, eyeing it with suspicion as they draw closer to it.