Four other soldiers were inside the crashed helicopter, salvaging what they could carry. They were just a blur in Melanie’s vision.
Must have cracked my head good and hard.
Coco was shifting Melanie’s thighs forward, and then gripped one arm firmly. “Sorry if this is a little undignified Doc, but we are moving over to one of the houses skirting the park, so we can create a better defensible location.” As he said that, he pulled her forward and hoisted her onto his shoulder, using a fireman’s lift.
Melanie’s head swam as she was tossed over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.
Coco did not seem to notice the extra weight of her body as he ducked under the twisted hatch and out onto the blood-soaked grass.
The January sky was like a slab of grey concrete, and the air was bitterly cold.
“Let’s pick up the pace soldiers, more will be arriving any minute,” the commanding officer shouted.
Even with the dull, overcast sky, everything was so bright to Melanie’s eyes after the confines of the craft. Also, seeing the world upside down, while bouncing along, did not help with her nausea.
Soldiers fanned out into formation. Some were carrying containers between them. Others covered their run to the nearest house.
Melanie could see naked bodies littered all around the helicopter, with sprayed patches of blood fanning out from the cooling corpses. From her upside-down view, she saw a pond with the water fountain still working. A couple of naked bodies floated in the murky water, with red blossoms spreading out from their carcasses.
The sound of the soldier’s utility belts and the stamping of their boots on the grass, along with their laboured breathing, filled the silence. No more gunfire echoed off distant houses.
“That one,” the commanding officer shouted. The group changed direction like a flock of birds, heading towards a building that had what looked like a tower, one story higher than all the other houses around it.
As they hustled through a tall metal gate onto a redbrick driveway, Melanie noticed the sign stating it was a dental clinic. A few naked dead bodies lay face down on the road skirting the park.
So much death. So much waste of life, Melanie thought. I need to get my findings to someone who can make a difference. Someone who can stop all this. With that thought, she remembered the folder. She just prayed someone had grabbed it.
5
Red
Newton Abbot, King Street
The Mortgage Company’s Breakroom
10:57 AM GMT
Red was worried. The explosions had stopped, but she just knew that they had something to do with Noah.
“You’re gonna wear a hole in that carpet,” Betty stated, as she tried to eat a mars bar with the few teeth she had remaining. Chocolate dribbled down her chin.
Lennie was happily consuming everything that was dumped in his lap. Empty wrappers littered around his boots. He slapped his lips and made content sounds as the chocolate was washed down with one fizzy drink can after another.
Red had noticed how he simply stared straight ahead, and he hardly ever blinked.
“Sorry about his manners. Never was a quiet eater, that one,” Betty said. “He’s got a good heart though.” The old woman wiped the chocolate off her face.
“He came and found me,” Betty stated.
“What? Sorry?” Red was deciding whether to go up a floor in the mortgage company building and see if she could see what was transpiring next door.
“I said Lennie came and found me, after all this started.” She waved a hand around her, as if that could describe everything that had happened over the last three weeks.
“I was in an old people’s home, up at Ford Park. I was there for almost nine years. They told me I was too old to stay in my own home. Incapable of looking after myself, as if I was some cripple or retard.” She gave a gruff grunt.
“I am eighty-six and I have more wits about me than half those dotty teenage care assistants who were meant to be looking after me. Half of them couldn’t even string a coherent sentence together. And they were always on their bloody mobile phones.”
Red realized the old woman was just trying to distract her mind from worrying about Noah.
“Lennie was the son of my only child, Sophie.” She had a faraway look on her wrinkled face. “I never did find out who the father was.
“Anyway, Sophie left him in my care. She just ran away one night, when he was two. She didn’t leave a note or say good-bye or anything.
“When I got put into an old people’s home he was taken into a special care unit in Torquay. They said he was to dimwitted to live on his own. They brought him to see me once a week.” Betty looked across to her grandson.
“After all this palaver started he turned up at the home. He made his own way, walking about nine miles. Whether he broke out, or was left to fend for himself, I don’t know. But he found me, and hasn’t left my side since.” A tear rolled down the old woman’s face. “The big lummox.”
Lennie was oblivious to the conversation. He was halfway through his eighth chocolate bar. Crisps were sprinkled all over his overalls.
While Betty had been talking, Red had collected all Noah’s stuff together, packing it all back up, in case they needed to leave in a hurry when he returned.
Movement caught Red’s attention.
Lennie stood up in one swift move. Some drink cans hit the carpet and rolled away. He dropped the half-eaten chocolate bar and clenched his chocolate-covered fists. Lennie seemed to be hearing something Red could not.
Then Red understood. She could hear the muffled sound of furniture shifting around through the gap where the adjoining door used to be. Something else was making its way through the structure towards them. Suddenly, a piercing, guttural scream echoed through the building.
6
Noah
Newton Abbot, King Street
The Paint Center Roof
11:01 AM GMT
Noah lay wedged up against the lip of the low wall for what felt like hours – but in reality, was five minutes – while he caught his breath. He could not hear any movement from below. Slowly, he rolled over onto his front and raised himself up to peer over the lip of the roof. Gravel dug into his elbows.
The alleyway looked like someone had tried to repaint it in shades of red and brown. It was hard to tell if any of the body parts belonged to the two creatures that had been chasing him, or whether they had returned inside. Blood ran down the walls, with larger chunks coming unstuck and dropping with a wet squelching sound onto the concrete below, like some cheap horror movie set.
His only choice was to head down through the guts and mess. The roof was a galvanized tin roof, which veered right up at an angle after the four feet of flat gravel. It was too steep to climb, and the noise his boots would make on the metal would attract unwanted attention.
Jesus, why didn’t those teenagers set light to another building? I could be sat at home in the safety and comfort of my apartment; he reasoned. But then I wouldn’t have met Red. He just realized the whole reason for heading into the Paint Center in the first place was to get Red a filtration mask, and he had left it in a box, inside, at the bottom of the stairs.
Fuck! I have no choice but to go back in.
Noah strained his hearing.
Nothing.
Slowly, he crawled over the wall and back onto the ladder with shaking legs. He had to hold on tight because the ladder was slippery due to being splattered with body fluids.
I hope Red is still inside the breakroom, and hasn’t come outside to investigate the explosions. He looked down the alley. Luckily, the January winds have swept the spores away.
Noah stood on the fire escape looking back into the building. The remains of some naked body parts were splattered down the corridor. It was hard to tell how many people it had once been. The resulting blasts, of the bloated bodies in a confined alleyway, were phenomenal.
The inside of the gasmask was steaming up from his
heavy breathing.
Cautiously, and carefully, so as not to slip, Noah made his way back along the corridor. On the floor, halfway down was his rifle. In all the frantic running and rush of adrenaline, he completely forgot about it. He was sure he had it out on the fire escape.
I must have dropped it when climbing the ladder and the blast blew it into the hallway; he reasoned. He picked it up, shook a glob of flesh off the handle, and hooked it back over his shoulder.
He strained his hearing. The building seemed deserted. With a little more confidence, he headed down the stairs.
The box had tipped over; the mask and goggles were on the floor. Quickly, he swept them up and ran toward the large back warehouse doors.
The yard was deserted.
Maybe the explosions scared the other zombies away. It still felt strange to use that word. It was such a surreal word that was used repeatedly in movies and books. The word did not belong in the real world. However, no other word better described them.
Noah jogged around the corner and across the small car park. He realized he had not heard any gunfire since he climbed up onto the roof.
Maybe that’s where they have all gone, to investigate the new sound.
Just as he reached the small back alley, where the breakroom’s entrance was located, the door flew open and Red ran out, closely followed by an old woman – who had her dress hitched up, so she could run – and a giant of a man who had to turn sideways to fit through the door.
The man then turned and lifted his huge meaty hand, and brought it down with enough force to crack concrete; he hit a head that just came into view. The deformed cranium of the naked female hit the floor with bone-crushing force.
“Run!” Red screamed when she noticed Noah.
7
Doctor Lazaro
Dentist Clinic
Courtney Park, Newton Abbot
11:06 AM GMT
Melanie swung from Coco’s muscular back. She was slipping in and out of consciousness.
When the soldiers reached the building, they kicked the door open and fanned out inside to check there were no Blinkers, Stare-ers, Eaters or Poppers – the names the soldiers had labeled the four different stages.
After “Clear!” was shouted from each room, the building was determined to be deserted.
Melanie was propped up in a dentist’s chair on the top floor of the clinic. Coco had sat her in the comfortable chair, and then stated he would be back after they had made the perimeter safe.
She then slipped back into unconsciousness. She was woken up by the sensation of water on her lips.
“Sip it slowly Doc,” a scrawny twenty-something lad said, who was riddled with acne, and who had been sitting next to her on the flight. He poured a little water from his canteen into her mouth. “I’m Jimmy, the squad’s medic.”
“Don’t worry about me, see to your wounded,” Melanie muttered. Her mind flashed back to all the bodies lying motionless in the helicopter.
“You’re my only patient, Doc. The others were too far gone–” his words trailed off. He shifted. Melanie got the impression it was not from being in an uncomfortable position, but from the conversation.
Melanie could hear the other soldiers moving around furniture on the floor below.
“Only nine of us made it out alive. Including you.” Jimmy was rummaging through his medical backpack. He pulled out some cotton wool and poured a clear solution over it. As he dabbed it on her forehead, she stifled back a scream. She bit her lip instead.
“Sorry. You must have been hit on the head when we crash-landed. Just cleaning up the cut.” After the initial shock of the sting, she settled down as Jimmy cleaned the wound, and then placed a couple butterfly plasters over it.
“The wound needs stitches, but this will have to do for now.”
That explains why I keep falling in and out of consciousness, and why I feel so queasy.
“I gotta make sure you stay awake for a while, because of the bash on the head.”
Voices could be heard in the hallway outside. Two soldiers walked into the room.
“Doctor Lazaro, I’m glad you’re still with us,” the man stated. “I’m the leader of what’s left of this squad. It’s my job to get you safely to the Dartmoor facility.” He gave a sigh. “I know I’ve not been doing too well so far, but hopefully I can redeem myself.” He sat upon a stool by a work surface that was covered in dental instruments. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out the folder that was still inside the waterproof sleeve.
Melanie was relieved. Thank God, at least I still have the documents.
“I just hope whatever information you have is worth the sacrifices?” He just stared at the plastic sleeve, as if being able to read its contents. He dropped it onto the side.
A tall thin soldier walked into the room. He had long thin features, with large protruding teeth, as if they were too big for his mouth. “Captain, everything has been secured. The two entrances are barricaded, and all the windows on the lower levels are secure. And everything that could be salvaged from the helicopter has been brought to the building.”
“Good.” He rubbed a hand over his face. The action reminded Melanie of Brigadier General William Hay, before he was shredded by flying glass.
So many have died today.
“Rogers, get Echo to prepare food for everyone as soon as she finishes positioning her packages.”
“Sir, yes sir.” Rogers did not salute; he simply turned and went to carry out his orders.
“Captain,” another soldier said, as he came through the doorway. “Bull has the radio all set up ready for you. He’s talking to General Philips as we speak.”
“Tell him I’m on my way. And please assure him she’s fine.” He wearily got to his feet.
“Captain,” Melanie said.
“Yes.” He turned slowly. The crash left his body badly bruised.
“Thank you for rescuing me.” The images of the horde of naked creatures attacking the university flashed through her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut to blank them out.
“I’m sorry for everyone who has been lost.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “But trust me when I say that folder contains information that needs to reach someone in the Dartmoor labs.”
“It is that important?” he asked.
“It’s the cure,” Melanie stated. Even though technically it was not a cure, but a prevention, she did not think that mattered.
The room went silent as the ramifications of her statement sunk in.
“Jesus,” Jimmy muttered.
“Captain,” Rogers said as he walked back into the room. “We have a problem. General Philips said he has no more birds at his disposal; his other two are apparently not responding to radio contact. In addition, the three groups of Huskies that are on patrol – that he sent out this morning – aren’t due to return from missions until tomorrow afternoon.”
“So we’re on our own.”
“Yes sir. We have no back up and no transport. But on the plus side, we do have shitloads of ammo and firepower.”
The Captain looked at his blood-flecked boots, while considering his options.
“Get Coco, Trev, and Franco ready. Within ten minutes, I want them out commandeering a vehicle big enough to transport us all.”
“Captain.” Another soldier strode into the room. “We have a problem.” The soldier looked like a poster perfect image for the military; muscular frame, chiseled square jaw, with a flawless center parting in his dirty-blonde hair, even after everything they went through.
“What’s the problem, Spice?”
“It seems we missed a small cloakroom when we cleared the building, and it has three Stare-ers comatose inside.”
“Shit,” Jimmy muttered.
“That’s not the worst of it,” Spice stated. “Two of them are children.”
8
Noah, Red, Betty, and Lennie
Newton Abbot, King Street
11:12 AM GMT
Red’s warning echoed in Noah’s ears as he tried to take in the situation. The old woman did not seem to be a threat; rather, she was also running for her life along with Red.
The huge man stood at the doorway, his hands covered in blood. Then he grasped the doorframe with both hands and with one leg, he kicked into the room. Noah could not see what he was kicking, but he knew whatever it was it could not have survived the impact.
“Run!” Red screamed again as she reached Noah. Red had her own cloth bag on her back, and she was struggling to carry Noah’s. As she ran past, she pushed it into his arms.
The old woman was moving fast for her age, and as she also passed Noah, she screamed, “You deaf Sonny? Run!”
Noah fumbled with the large pack as he swung it onto his back, while keeping hold of the cardboard box, and running to catch up. With a backward glance, Noah noticed the giant was lumbering along with a limp, following them.
“Keep up Lennie,” the old woman shouted over her thin shoulder.
A piercing, guttural scream echoed off the buildings as a naked female, and a teenage boy exited the breakroom, hot on their heels.
“Shit!” Noah muttered as the screams made him run even faster. We won’t be able to outrun them.
The female was skinny, covered in filth and dried blood, with long matted blonde hair. She was running too fast and slammed against the wall. She skidded on the ground, as she ripped at the floor and wall with twisted, bleeding fingers while trying to get back up. The male teenager ran past her, straight at Lennie, who was at the back of the retreating group.
Fuck! Noah thought.
The huge man was just too slow.
Noah dropped the pack off his back and let it fall to the ground.
The rifle won’t stop them, but maybe I could use it as a club.
Just as that thought passed through his head, the giant of a man stretched out a big hand and grabbed the shopping trolley that was resting on its side. In one swift move, Lennie twisted and swung the trolley in a large arc, pivoting on one leg as he twisted around. The trolley caught the naked teenager full force, knocking him sideways like a ragdoll. The body hit the Renault Clio like a bag of bones, and slid along the ground, unmoving.
The Sixth Extinction 2: An Apocalyptic Tale of Survival. (Part Two: Ruin.) Page 2