Designated (Book 1): Designated Infected

by Ricky Cooper

  'I think this was a pub at some point.'

  His nose wrinkled slightly as he tasted the stale air, hanging limp and lifeless in the dank, foetid darkness.

  'Smells like cheap lager down here, would explain the weird set up in the main room upstairs though, thought it looked familiar.'

  Grabbing a coal shovel from the corner of the basement he wedged it through the handles of the door shaking them roughly. The doors rumbled and bounced against the frame as he forced the shovel deeper into the gap behind the rust caked iron handles.

  'Should hold. Okay lads, who's up for some CQB training?'

  He clapped his hands together as he stepped forward; an excited gleam dancing in his eyes as he watched the two paratroopers shift cautiously.

  'I'm qualified as an instructor in case you're wondering. Get the others down here, well those of em' who ain't on stag, and lets have us a bit of fun.'

  The time passed quickly for the combined forces unit, as they met out their frustration on each other. Sharp trudged through the cellar door, his trainer covered feet thunking softly on the wooden treads of the stairway. The air stank of sweat and the overriding pall of stale beer and curdled milk.

  Casting his eyes around the room, he let them rest on, one man after another taking in their ragged sweat drenched forms and slightly laboured breathing.

  Smirking, he slowly began to speak.

  'Okay girls lights out, I want Roberts, Hooper and Jones on over-watch, pick your posts and get comfortable. Woodwrow; set out three of your lads and get them on duty in front. Rest of you get your heads down; we rotate every two.'

  Using what little they had in the way of comfortable bedding, they picked out spots in the basement, and one by one, slowly drifted into a tense slumber while the others kept watch above.

  17

  'Anyone else hungry? I could kill for a bacon sandwich.' Williams moaned as his statement was reinforced by the growling of his stomach. Picking up a leaflet, Colins balled it up in his fist and tossed it at Williams' head. 'Shut up and drink something it'll fool your gut into thinking you've eaten. Going hungry for a couple more hours won't hurt you. Besides, I don't doubt you ate before you got here yesterday, Baker's been up on that roof down the street since we got here.'

  Williams gave Colins a sheepish grin as he shrugged. 'S'pose so, but to be fair we ain't that used to it like you lot.' Several more leaflets bounced off of Williams as the others joined in.

  'That's bullshit for a start. One Para is the Special Forces Support Group's main contributor, so don't be a pussy when you've been through only a touch less than us, you boys wouldn't be here otherwise.' Clarkson lifted his nose out of the book he'd found as he spoke, 'They called you on it there Dom, no backing out now, you dumb arse.'

  Not bothering with further comment, Clarkson withdrew from the argument and returned to his book, wetting his thumb slightly before he turned the page. As the rest began to resume their berating of the now red faced Paratrooper the phone began to ring.

  'What, the bloody hell.'

  Roberts quipped as he swung his feet off the counter top and walked towards the phone, lifting the receiver he put it to his ear. 'Hello?'

  A raspy voice on the end of the line drew in a small breath as it began to speak, Roberts' lips curled into a small smile as he listened to Baker's poor attempt at covering his voice.

  'You have seven minutes to reach the end of Station Road, a helicopter is already in position to lift the team out, I would advise you move quickly as the Infected in the area have already begun to converge on your location, that argument over a bacon sandwich was not very wise.' With that the line went dead; Roberts stared at the phone for a second before he turned round. Screaming slightly he jumped out his skin as he came face-to-face with six-dozen Infected pressed against the aged plate glass of the Post Office window.

  'Move, Move, Move.' Davies cried to the collective gathering of men as he dropped to his knee and took aim at the window, he knew that even without their teeth these men wouldn't stand a chance against the manic, brain damaged horde beating against the glass.

  'I'll cover you, make for the back door. Roberts take point, you took the call, you know what to do.'

  Davies gritted his teeth as he turned his attention back to the window his eyes widening as he watched an Infected lift a lump of jagged concrete over its head.

  'Now, move it!'

  He smiled as he watched the seventeen remaining soldiers bolt for the cellar door. Davies fixed his eye down the sights of his Browning and watched in tense yet horrified fascination as the glass cracked when the Infected brought the concreted lump crashing down against it. Standing upright he kept his sights fixed on the window as he slowly edged back towards the door.

  ****

  Davies watched in morbid fascination as the spider web like fractures in the glass bloomed outwards. The inch thick pane of glass bowed and warped as the mass of writhing Infected bodies sliding against the slick sheet increased; their bodies crushing tightly together. His stomach lurched as he watched one begin to peel apart at the seams. Its skin splitting under the pressure, tearing away from its stomach and arms like an over cooked tomato. Blood and bile spilled forth as the pressure mounted and its wailing visage was pulped against the distending glass.

  Cracks slowly began to widen as more and more of the town's residents joined the clamour. The rock descended crashing into the glass as it's wielder was pushed forwards his bellowing form bursting like a orange under a car tyre.

  Creaking like dry wood as the pressure slowly began to build, the crack widened as the Infected forced themselves forwards. The unlucky few at the front were forced through the ever widening crevasse' like children’s putty through a press, the pulverised and strained mixture of flesh and fluid dripping to the floor with a wet plop.

  Davies' eyes widened slightly as the glass imploded with a soft popping crack the Infected falling forwards like a drunken blond into a taxi; their writhing forms sliding over one another as they clawed their way free of the sprawling orgy of limbs. He couldn't help but smile at the situation as for all the tension in the room the whole scene had been disappointingly anticlimactic.

  John quickened his backwards retreat as the Infected began to rise and one by one make their way towards him. Grabbing hold of the thick oak door leading to the employee only section of the Post Office Davies swung the door shut, turning the key in the lock as he did so.

  Leaning against the aged and slightly weathered door, Davies struggled to get his breath back to normal, his heart pounding in his chest as he listened to the clamour of voices and bodies on the other side.

  As he rested a false sense of security that so often accompanied a narrow escape lulled him into inactivity. Resting his head against the cool smooth surface he closed his eyes drinking in the still quietness of the corridor.

  His eyes snapped open as the door heaved behind him, guttural moans bleeding through the woodwork as he jumped away. The door shook as more and more of the cadaverous invaders threw themselves against the unyielding surface.

  So this is why he set it up, clever Staff, very clever.'

  Davies had to appreciate the simplicity of the plan, putting expert professionals and regular soldiers into a situation where one group is of a better mental preparedness than the other, causing an impromptu social network to evolve between the two groups, making the professionals feel personally responsible for those in the regular profession.

  Then introduce hunger, thirst and a persistent enemy and it's enough to drive any person to distraction. On top of that sleep deprivation caused by said enemy and you instantly get a fight or flight situation. All of this accomplished by thirty-nine buildings and the soldiers placed in them.

  Shaking his head he turned and raised his side arm again, aiming dead-centre of the door, he began to slowly back down the corridor cursing himself for not seeing it sooner.

  The anger that welled up inside him didn't help, he was angry at
not realising the situation and more so at allowing himself to be cowed into inactivity. He knew the dangers it caused to manifest and the threats to his personal safety not to mention that of his team mates.

  'John you dumb arse.'

  He quietly cursed as he made his retreat. Reaching the rear door of the building he was pleased to see the rest of the team in a defensive formation waiting for his arrival.

  In any other situation standard operating procedure mandated that any one on rear guard who fell behind stayed behind for the sake of the rest of the team. But this was different.

  ****

  'We have four minutes to reach the he-lo, otherwise we are stuck in country for an undetermined duration.'

  The others nodded as Roberts slowly stuck his head around the corner and watched the Infected clamour through the front of the building.

  'Right.' His voice was low almost drowned out by the husky tones pushing through his agitated speech.

  'There's an information sign at the top of this street; I can see it from here. Jones you're the smallest and fastest here, make it to the sign and find out where Station Road is.'

  Nodding the five-foot tall corporal sprinted away, diving into the shadows of the alleyway before making his way to the sign. Jones was wary of being out in the open, although the Infected had no teeth, that was of little comfort to the diminutive soldier, the chance of secondary infection through saliva, blood, or cuts and grazes were all too real and not something he wished to walk away with.

  Staring at the sign he couldn't help but laugh, drawing not only strange glances from his team mates but the attention of a nearby Infected.

  The creature shambled towards the unawares trooper as he took in the details of the board before him. Jones drank in the route as he plotted the team's course. As he stared at the polished surface, his eyes darting over the glimmering gloss painted sign, a soft glimmering shape took his attention for a split second. In the time it took for the creature to amble another half foot, Jones' hand snapped down the hilt of his combat dagger and in one smooth arcing motion he slid the blade up through the lower pallet of the beast's mouth slicing its tongue in two.

  The blade surged upwards propelled not only by the strength of Jones' muscular frame but also the almost semi-liquid dying tissue that seemed to lubricate the passing slab of tempered steel.

  Slicing through the upper pallet of it's mouth, and deep into the lower cortex of the creature's brain, Jones watched in morbid satisfaction as any remaining signs of life faded like a torch in its final seconds of illumination. Dragging the blade free he grabbed a handful of the thing's shirt and callously wiped the knife clean before releasing the creature and watching it hit the floor with a dull thud.

  Jones made it back to the group without any further incident, dropping to one knee he leant close to the men in front of him. 'Right,' his hushed words, soft and quiet, 'the way I see it, our best option is to find a way up to the roof of the opposite building; then it's a dead sprint along them, the street we need is actually at the far end of the road here. But with all the Infected between us and it, well I don't think we have enough ammunition to take them all down, thanks to Johnny come lately and the parachute bunch.'

  Davies smiled at the quip, his grin expanding ever wider when he saw the look of disgruntled annoyance on the Paratrooper's faces. Nodding in agreement with Jones he turned to the others looking at Sharp for confirmation.

  'Sounds okay to me, one question though Jones'

  The trooper raised an eyebrow at the other man.

  'What's up boss.'

  Sharp let a small smile curl his lips as he prepared his answer.

  'How we getting up there?'

  Jones simply pointed upwards in reply. Nodding in appreciation, Sharp stood. 'Not bad Jonesy, not bad at all. Right boys high and tight, up the telegraph pole on the double.'

  The seventeen men scrambled up the eighteen inch wide post en-mass. Davies leaping upwards, latched his hands round the post as he planted his feet against it, then in a jerking shuffle quickly shimmied upwards. The rest of the team followed in quick succession, and one by one made the tense fifteen second over hand run along the high tension cables to the roof.

  Davies scuttled to the roof edge, glancing over it he blanched at the sight below; the roadway was awash with the mass collective of psychotic cannibals that was the Infected horde. Forcing the bile and viscous vomit back down his throat he turned to the others.

  'Do yourselves a favour lads; don't look down there.'

  Davies slightly pale face betrayed the reason to the rest, who, drawn by simple curiosity, clambered to the edge of the roof only to recoil as one in sheer disgust at what lay below.

  The writhing mass of flesh seemed to glisten in the sunlight, their twisting arms and snapping jaws yearning to taste the flesh held beyond their reach. The garbled cries and guttural moans which drifted up, carried along by the soft lulling breeze made it all the more unnerving as the infected clambered over each other in their need for sustenance.

  Pulling back from the edge the men checked their gear over, doing anything to shake the sounds from their minds as the Infected called from below.

  The belt and vest kit they wore was the latest in tactical assault equipment combining body armour, climbing harness, ammunition and storage pouches into one light-weight-rig designed specifically for the unit.

  'Okay boys, one at a time, hook up and zip across to the opposite roof. Double time gentlemen, we're running against the clock here'

  Stepping up onto the raised edge of the roof Davies hoisted himself up and snapped the Carabineer over the high tension wire, then hand-over-hand made the tense and arduous journey into the void.

  His legs hung limp below him; dragging down, pulling him deeper into the harness making it bite into his thighs and inner leg as he pushed himself hand over hand along the wire. The carabineer clicked over the spun threads of steel sending a steady vibration through him that sliced a little more off his nerves the further he travelled. Gritting his teeth he pushed on, moving out head first along the cable.

  Davies dropped his head backwards, feeling the blood rush into his sinuses, making his head pound as he pushed himself out along the line. Lifting his head he looked back along his body, watching as the others made ready to hook up and move out. He shook his head in frustration and anger, more at himself than anything, for letting his mind wander. He knew what he was, a soldier, it was what he had been born to do, and to him this was fun. He simply couldn't wrap his head around why he was suddenly feeling like a raw recruit on the first day of training. Biting down he viciously ground his teeth together and pulled sending himself surging hand over hand along the inch thick wire cable.

  His hands felt slick inside the cotton-lined, leather tactical gloves he wore, reaching his left hand up, he curled his fingers round the cable just as his right gave out and slipped his grip vanishing in an instant. Every fibre in his being tensed at that one moment where his irrational mind seized control and he waited for the soul crushing impact of his ninety-eight kilo body slamming into the concrete below.

  Looking up he saw he was still firmly attached by his harness, sighing and cursing himself he reached up once more, grasping the cable and pulled himself ever further onward, he kicked himself mentally with every inch of the distance covered. He had and still did face terrorists, insurgents, enemy combatants, and enemy soldiers; but never in all his years had he faced something that for all intents and purposes defied the natural order of a world he was firmly entrenched in.

  The moans and gnashing teeth did nothing to sooth his shattered nerves, he knew one more slip, one minor failure by him or his kit and he was as good as dead. He had no problem with dying, he just wanted it to be for a reason, not some stupid training mistake, too many good lads had lost it that way and he wasn't going to add to the list.

  A wave of relief washed over him as he felt his feet graze the raised edge of the roof. Turning his attention to the me
n across the way he grinned as he hoisted himself up and unsnapped the carabineer letting himself drop the two feet back to solid ground.

  Waving his hand above his head, fingers splayed open in the all's safe gesture; Davies waited for the rest to follow him across. Turning John drew his Browning from its holster and stepped away from the wall, something was nagging at him; a small sliver of trepidation was worming its way up his spine and he just couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

  Sharp saw the movement and immediately stopped the others from moving off, Fisher paused hanging on the wire like a dried salami as he watched Davies' cautious advance across the roof. Swinging his legs up he locked his ankles over the cable taking the pressure off his harness; despite it being rated for in excess of double his weight he knew it was bad practice to rely solely on that for safety.

  He raised his arm to his face and checked the Luminox watch strapped to his wrist. Three minutes left until the chopper left without them and still sixteen men and over a quarter of a mile to cover, grinding his teeth together he swallowed a frustrated curse, and resigned himself to waiting.

  Mariani and Roberts exchanged nervous glances as Davies continued his sweep of the roof, they watched as Davies spun and dropped to one knee, his gun barking three well aimed quick shots, two Infected falling face first from a door way leading to the roof.

  'Move it now, Infected coming up the stairs, every one across now.'

  Davies' echoing voice jerked an immediate response from them all, Fisher sprang back to life hauling himself across the cable so quickly that his harnesses clip mount began to smoke slightly from the friction as the plastic coating was eaten away.

  The other sixteen men followed in rapid succession not bothering to wait for the rest to unclasp before jumping on and hauling themselves across.