by Alex Kings
She sat up and moved elsewhere, running through what would happen today: First, they were sending out an initial salvage team to the south parts of Bridgham. Second, the tribunal of James, the loader. Third, the van from Goat's Head would return. And if it returned with her letter –
She caught sight of her right wrist. Her train of thought came to a shuddering halt.
The area covered by holes had grown. Now it extended nearly as far as her wrist; just after the operation, it was less than halfway down her forearm. She scrabbled at her clothes to check elsewhere. The holes now covered half her belly; they extended past her hip to the front of her thigh.
She stared at them, her breathing ragged. She hadn't been keeping track of the rate of growth lately, but she'd seen how far they extended after her operation. All this growth had happened in the past couple of days. She couldn't remember the last time the holes had grown this fast, except at the beginning of the infection.
If it kept up at this rate she had, she guessed, maybe a little over a week before they covered her entirely. And four or five days before they became impossible to hide.
There wasn't time to mess around with this crisis, then. If she wanted to have a chance of doing something, anything, to stop the demons, she had to push forward. She'd have to press Richard on getting demon flesh, and she might have to go to Goat's Head if they'd take her.
And she'd have to move quickly.
She was working when the first salvage teams went out. They had both been hastily reassembled the evening before to include more Dale supporters, and the people who had been kicked out to make room for them went back, filled with resentment, to other jobs.
Around ten o'clock, an hour before the tribunal was meant to start, the guards in the lookout towers reported a van approaching the front gate. Was it the van they'd sent to Goat's Head? No, reported the guards, it was a new one.
Jess, who was walking around the outer wall, heard the news being passed along as she approached the front gate. The van had driven up to the front gate and flashed its lights a couple of times. Mayor Mason was called. Guards were hastily assembled, and some guns distributed to those nearby, including Jess herself. She stood by, holding a pistol, as the gates were opened and the van came rolling in.
The gates were closed. The van was inspected. Then, at last, its driver got out, arms raised. “I'm from Foxglove Compound,” he announced, “and I wish to speak to Mayor Mason.”
A messenger, then. At last, perhaps they were willing to talk.
“Search him,” said one of Jess's fellow guards. She helped him, and when they found nothing, they escorted the messenger out of the small gate of the loading area to where Mason was waiting.
“Ah, Jess,” she said. “I'm glad you're here. Could you stay? You've negotiated with Foxglove before.”
“Of course,” Jess said.
Mason turned back to the messenger. “So, what do you have to say?”
“I've come here to give you an offer of surrender,” said the representative.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. “Excuse me?” said Mason.
“Paradise Compound is important for its food production. But we no longer trust your leadership. So here's your choice: Either you surrender now and hand over administration of Paradise to Foxglove, or we will take it by force. We'd prefer the first option, obviously – there'll be less damage that way.”
Mason glanced at Jess, then back to the representative. “You really plan to declare war on us?”
“We don't need to. We already have an attack planned. We have three more vehicles waiting outside. If I don't radio back your surrender in the next half hour, they'll drive into your walls to breach them. And in case you think that's a bluff, one of them will be moving into view by the west wall about now.”
“Okay,” said Mason slowly. “Your people have seen Paradise Compound before. You know we have an inner compound we can retreat to in case too many demons get through the outer wall.”
“Yes,” said the representative. “I also know most of your farms and equipment are in the outer compound. We'll happily take over them and block the gates of the inner wall if we have to.”
“You'll have to fix the wall and clear out the demons of the outer compound to do that.”
“Yes.” The representative smiled nastily. “But that is a risk we're willing to take. So, have you decided yet? We attack in –” He checked his watch. “– twenty six minutes.”
Mason turned to the second guard, who was still standing by. “Keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't try and radio his friends too soon.” Then, to Jess, she continued: Go and spread the word. Tell everyone to prepare for an attack – we might have to fight demons and humans.”
Jess nodded and ran across to the rest of the guards in the loading area and told them. The commanding officer designated a few others to spread the word, and others to start handing out guns. From there, she headed further into the compound, telling everyone she met about the possible breach of the walls and upcoming fight.
That should be enough, she thought. A plan was coming together in her mind, and she wasn't sure whether it was brilliant or idiotic. Either way, she couldn't do it if she was just running around playing messenger.
She headed to the western wall, and called up to those on the lookout towers, “Is there a van waiting out there?”
A paused, then a response. “Yeah! Well, a truck. I've already reported it on the radio.”
“I need to see it. Can I come up?” She started climbing before she got a response. There, in the cramped platform of the lookout – it was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, she saw, past the tangles of barbed wire, the truck. It was a heavy duty tractor unit, bristling with salvaged armour.
She started descending the ladder. “Is it really going to attack?” said the guard.
“Yeah,” she called up. “I think so. Ask for a backup team at the bottom of the wall.
From there she ran to the infirmary. Maybe fifteen minutes to go, she thought. Hopefully that we be enough time. She hammered on the door.
When Patel opened it, she quickly recited the news about the upcoming attack, finishing with, “I need the egg.”
“What for?” asked Patel, showing her inside and quickly closing the door behind them.
“Just … I might be able to do something with it.” She lay her gun in the corner.
Patel opened one of the lower drawers from her desk, pulled out a normal-looking small cardboard box, and from that retrieved the smaller transparent box holding to egg. She handed it to Jess.
Jess prised off the lid and took the egg in her right hand. It was warm to the touch, smooth and firm, dry. After a few seconds, she felt it: Vaguely, a sort of background noise. The presence in her head perked up and nosed around a bit.
That was it then. The closed her eyes and pictured the truck she'd seen. She labelled in in her mind, enemy. She thought about the other two vans that were supposedly hiding nearby, tagged them as enemies too. She thought about the wall to the compound, how it looked from the outside, and thought friend. Then, at last, she asked in her mind for help – for something big enough to attack the vans, and then to leave the compound alone.
She waited for a response.
None came. She opened her eyes and dropped the egg back in the box.
“What was that?” asked Patel.
“I don't know yet. Maybe nothing. We'll see,” said Jess. She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes to go before the attack. “If it doesn't work, you'll need to prepare to take wounded as soon as you can. I'll send some of our triage nurses your way if I see them.”
“Okay,” said Patel. She put the plastic box inside the cardboard one, and hid it back in the draw. “If we get out of this alive, I hope you'll tell me what you just did. Or tried to do.”
“Of course,” said Jess. She said a quick farewell and went back out into the compound.
Everyone she ran into knew about the a
ttack by this point. The noncombatants – a small portion of the population, but still present – were being sent to the inner compound. The triage nurses were already heading to wait with Doctor Patel. Everyone else was taking up arms around the wall, or preparing an arrangement sheet metal and scaffolding pipes to block up the holes as soon as they were made.
She went back to the east section of the wall where the tractor unit had been seen. A small, disorganised army had gathered there: Compound citizens, waiting in a rough line, armed, still bewildered at being called to action so quickly.
One of the commanders of the guard called her over. “Jess! Okay, you're now part of the west wall division, unit seven. Wait over there – there's your cover.”
Her cover was the remains of an old brick wall. She obeyed quietly and joined a small group of about fifteen people waiting behind it.
A few more people came jogging to join them, and were assigned places by the commander, going by the name of Johnson. His walkie-talkie babbles something obscured by static, and he replied into it, “We've got about a hundred here. Over” Another staticky reply. “Got it. Over and out.” He put the walkie-talkie back on his belt and looked up at the assembled people waiting.
“Okay,” he announced in a crisp, clear voice, “You're one of three defence divisions. Mine, one on the west wall commanded by McAlister, and one by the north wall commanded by Mayor Mason. Here's the plan. We don't know where precisely the van will break through – it's gone out of sight – but we assume it will happen somewhere near here. Our lookout guards will announce the moment they see it – and we assume the attack will happen moments after that. When you hear the announcement, if you're directly in front of it, move to the side. If you're close, stay where you are. If you're move than a fifty metres away, approach to the closest safe cover.”
He looked them over carefully. “Once the van comes through, your first target should be the tyres. Your second target should be the cab. We assume it's carrying attackers, so they moment they open the doors, they become your first target. Understood?”
He took the silence as a yes. “Good.” He checked his watch. “Four minutes.”
They waited. Jess heard occasional murmuring, but kept to herself. She ran through her mind all the possibilities of what might happen. She wondered if the vans would break through easily, cut up the resistance, and take the compound without any difficulty. She wondered if she'd get through this, only to be revealed by the growing pattern of holes across her body and killed by an overzealous guard.
“It's here!” called the lookout guard. “Heading towards segment nine or ten!”
That's was hers. Her unit was just to the side of those segments. She raised her gun, blanked her mind.
Then –
“Demon!” called the guard. “There's a demon coming. Big one!”
And already Jess could feel it through the ground, a faint but powerful thumping, like the footsteps of a running elephant. And then noise – a roaring engine.
“The truck's breaking off. It's …” The guard ducked
A moment later there came the squeal of rending metal, followed by a great crunch. Something smacked into the compound wall, but not strong enough to break it. Another metal shriek followed, and two chunks of shrapnel came flying of the top of the wall, spinning.
One slammed into the ground with a great crash a few metres away from Jess. She recognised it as a pieces of the armour from the truck, twisted out of shape.
Shouts from the crowd:
“Holy shit!”
“What the fuck was that?”
Jess felt a broad grin spreading across her face. She'd done that! She'd saved them. At least, from the truck.
The guard on the wall was pulling himself back up the ladder to the lookout position. When he reached it, he announced. “The demon's running off!”
“The truck?” called up the commander.
“Wrecked. I don't see anyone alive down there.”
Behind them, from the far side of the compound, came a shuddering crash. The other attacker. It was followed by a second crash a few moments later.
The commander spoke through his walkie-talkie, got a crackling response, then looked up. “We're not out of the woods yet. The other vans have still penetrated. Units one through five, with me – towards the north wall. Units six through ten go to the west wall. Help wherever you can. Move it, now!”
Jess set off running with the others to the other side of the compound. Idiot, she thought – of course it wouldn't be that easy. She'd got the message out about the truck she'd seen – but she didn't know anything about the other attackers. The demon she'd summoned wouldn't have anything to go on.
As they approached, the sounds of fighting became clearer – pistol shots, bursts of machine gun fire, revving engines, shouting, screaming. There, round the hall, it came into view.
A gaping hole of torn metal yawned in the wall. Another tractor unit for a truck, the armour on its nose crumpled and scarred, was reversing down the road along the wall, trying to run over the Paradise citizens as they shot at it. It was carrying a small armoured cabin.
It threw on its brakes, stationary wheels screeching against the tarmac as it swerved, and turned round. Then it started up again, forward this time, heading down another road deeper into the compound, leaving its attackers behind. Where was it going?
Jess turned back to the people it had left behind. She counted three or four dead or injured lying on the ground, hit by the truck. The commander of this division was handing out orders to various groups – gather the injured, block the wall, give chase, defend this spot. It still looked like an utter shambles, though. Some of her units had been assigned any task yet.
Then came that familiar thumping, felt through the ground before it could be heard. The giant demon. It thumped into view through the hole in the wall, then came to a halt.
It was bigger than an elephant – maybe twice as high, standing on four legs, thick as tree trunks, ending in feet with bladed claws. Its skin was a leathery grey shading into black, and its head was just a tumorous lump studded with eyes. And its belly – its belly was open like a mouth, ribs splayed like giant teeth, tentacles hanging from some cavity within.
At once, everyone who could see it raised their guns. Part of Jess wanted to ask them not to shoot – but she didn't know how she could justify such a request, or whether it was even a good idea. Still, the demon didn't advance, and so nobody opened fire. After a fraction of a second it continued on its way. It was looking for vans or trucks, Jess realised – but this one was already inside.
“Come on,” shouted the commander of this group. “Get to work! This is no time to be standing about!” People rushed to their tasks.
Then the distant sound of a roaring engine came close. The truck was returning. Jess followed the sound, and arrived in time to see it come into view – driving down one of the road from the inside of the compound towards them. As it approached the turnoff to the road, it screeched to a halt, swinging sideways.
There was a clank, then the sound of some sort of hatch opening. A moment later someone looked out from behind the truck – one of the attackers. He was holding a machine gun, and after deciding a target, he fired.
“Cover!” yelled the commander. Nobody needed that instruction. They were already all diving behind buildings and sandbags, but this time on the other side. Someone was too late, went down screaming with blood erupting through the back of his shirt, then made no sound at all.
Jess hid behind the building at the mouth of the road, heart pounding. She'd killed demons before. She could even claim to be reasonably good at it. But she'd never fought another person with another gun. More clattering gunfire threw up sparks on the road and cut open the surface of the sandbags.
Peek out or not? Someone did from behind the piled of sandbags. She leant out once, took a shot, and retreated before she could see if it had any affect.
“Fucking hell,” she muttered to
herself.
“You can say that again,” said a familiar voice to her side. She looked up. Mike, looking very serious. Jess was nearest the corner, between it and Mike. “Move,” he said, and without waiting for a response, pulled he back so he'd be closest to the corner.
With space to think, something occurred to her. They could easily could and surprise the attackers from behind. In fact, she realised, the commander – who was under cover on the far side of the road – looked like he was ordering people to do just that.
Except.
Except the attackers had surely realised this too. So why were they attacking from this angle?
The answer came immediately in the sound of another vehicle. Of course – Foxglove had got two vans inside the walls. The second was coming to meet them from the side, from having opened the north wall. An attack from two sides at once – they'd have no cover from that angle.