“On three, then. We turn and run.”
A deep baritone bellow reverberated down the tunnel. Jack’s heart spasmed. He knew an Alpha call when he heard one. He grabbed Yalonda’s arm and pushed her away.
“Run!” he screamed.
Jack pumped his legs, urging them to run faster. He ignored the protests from his exhausted muscles. He ignored the howls and screeches. Instead, he focused on the bobbing lights in front of him and frantically searched for a way out.
— 16 —
Loyalty.
Duke and the plebs picked over the wreckage of the three 6WD vehicles they had smashed off the road. Pig watched as the men walked around, laughing as they turned over the dead soldiers, robbing them of their rations and collecting their weapons. The whole activity disgusted him.
These beast worshipers were nothing more than maggots, feeding on the decay of society.
Grinding his teeth, Pig seethed as they methodically went about their morbid business. The dead soldiers were placed in the back of the two remaining vehicles.
Four soldiers had survived the raid and were loaded up next to him. Only one was coherent enough to move on his own and make eye contact with Pig.
The soldier had his hair shaved tight against his scalp, and Pig caught a glimpse of a Samoan tribal tattoo on his shoulder, under his torn shirt.
“What’s your name, soldier?”
The soldier’s eyes flicked around at the plebs before answering. “Lance Corporal Nathan Mauger.”
Pig gave him a curt nod. “We’ll get through this.”
Nathan looked at him and shook his head. His eyes surveyed the wreckage. “Who are these guys?”
“They call themselves plebs. That tall one is their leader, he calls himself Duke.”
“Plebs?”
“Umm yeah. It’s short for plebeian, which is Latin for peasant or commoner.”
Nathan cast his eyes down, tore a strip off his fatigues and field-dressed a gash on his leg. “Why did they do this?”
“I don’t think you’ll like the answer.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Pig sighed. How do you tell someone that members of your own species have betrayed you to survive? That Duke was a megalomaniac who’d killed, looted and raped his way across New Zealand. That he worshipped the beasts and supplied them with meat. All so he could live out his sick, twisted fantasies.
“It’s what they do. Find surviving humans and steal from them. Kill the men and children. Keep some of the women for themselves.”
He paused mulling over how to tell him the rest.
“They worship the beasts, keeping them fed.”
Nathan’s eyes went wide. He glanced over to the truck containing his fallen comrades.
“Sick fuckers!” he said, shaking his head. “Why would anyone worship the Variants? They’re the enemy.”
“Variants?” questioned Pig.
“Yeah, Variants. The beasts. Monsters. Whatever you want to call them.”
Pig felt a tickle in his mind, a tug of something buried deep within the fog.
Variants? Yes. I’ve heard that name before.
The V8 engine of the F350 roared to life under his feet. Duke slammed the side of the cab with his machete.
“You two homos can bum each other later,” he said, cackling with laughter.
His door slammed shut and he spun the tyres in the gravel. They squealed in protest as they met the asphalt.
Pig yanked on his cuffs in frustration. It was bad enough he had to watch the plebs kill innocent men, let alone being chained up like an unwanted dog.
He kept his head turned so he could see where the convoy was heading. Duke turned south for several kilometres before finally turning east and once again heading for the mountain with the communications tower on top.
Pig contemplated whether or not to get more intel from Nathan, but with the wind howling by, any decent conversation was out.
After twenty minutes, they sped through another town, then bounced across the open fairways of a golf course.
Duke hollered out his window, “Sorry, boys! Can’t see the road.”
An empty liquor bottle came whistling past Pig’s head and smashed against the cab, showering the prisoners in tiny shards of glass. Nathan casually brushed the glass off himself and continued to stare out at the passing countryside. Pig grimaced and turned back to the road ahead, committing all to memory.
The F350 fishtailed back onto a gravel track and they roared on up the mountain, winding their way to the top. Pig frowned at the sight of a low, squat building nestled under the antennae. Covering the sides, roof and lower portion of the antenna tower was a bluish crystalline substance.
A terrifying wail screamed from inside the building. His heart sank at the sound. Only one beast he knew of made that sound. Confirming his fears, the beast Duke called Abezi soared out of the structure and clung to the edge of the roof.
Nathan gasped beside him.
Duke brought the ute to a halt, exited the cab and bowed down to the winged beast. “Abezi, my lord, I bring you tributes as you have requested.”
The plebs quickly unloaded the dead soldiers and laid them out in a row.
Abezi wailed into the predawn air. Its call was answered by two accompanying cries. The other beasts flew out of the building and landed with a crunch in the gravel, next to the corpses. They hissed at the men. Pig silently urged them to bite Duke’s head off, but instead they clasped the fallen soldiers in their claws and took off, disappearing into their nest.
Soon the convoy was moving again, back down the mountain, past gnarled beech trees covered in moss. Past tree ferns with silver undersides. Pig watched it all whizz by, his head buzzing with thoughts. The first time he had seen Abezi had been the day before his escape attempt. Normally, the plebs transported their captured humans away from the camp. Only once a month or so had they gone through the ritual of sacrificing them. But that had been to normal Variants, too. Not these winged monsters. What puzzled him more was the fact that they had to feed them again so soon.
Duke guided the convoy back through the overgrown golf course and skidded to a stop. The town of Te Aroha was spread out below them, street after street of single storey bungalows, each with their own piece of land, and trees and shrubs planted in neat groupings and rows. Though it was dark, Pig knew what was there, and indeed, some of the elements were visible even in the dark. Like nearly every town Pig had travelled through in the last few months, there were signs of panic and the chaotic indications of a fleeing population. Cars were smashed against trees, houses, fences or other vehicles. Glass, oil and bloodstains coated the ground in patches of death. And, as in nearly every town, no bodies. It wasn’t often that he saw skeletal remains. Thankfully, seven months since the Variants had infected the country, the stench of death had lessened.
Duke’s voice filtered up to Pig. “Where’s that other entrance?”
“I’m sure it’s here on Hill Road. Derek said it’s an old abattoir,” said the driver.
“Fucking army boys are everywhere. Let’s make this quick. Chicko said they’re closing in on Morrinsville. I don’t want to have to drive all day, skirting those idiots to get back to the palace.”
“Yes, sir.”
The F350 lurched forwards and gathered speed, turning north, driving parallel to the Kaimai mountains.
Pig grinned at the sight. With the sky lightening from the east, visibility was returning to the world. And he was starting to recognise this part of New Zealand, having spent many Saturday mornings playing rugby in the small farming communities round about. He had grown up in the city of Rotorua, 100 kilometres to the south.
After ten minutes, the convoy took another turn, and finally they screeched to a stop at the end of a long road.
Pig gagged on the stench of decomposing flesh. Littered around a rectangular white building were hundreds of carcasses. Cow, horse and sheep bones were piled high, with the odd bit of flesh hanging
from rib cages and femurs. The empty eye sockets of skulls stared back at him. He shuddered.
The plebs shoved the four now-conscious soldiers out of the truck. Duke and greasy Todd uncuffed Pig and kicked him onto the ground, laughing as they did so. Pig lifted his head and surveyed the building. Now that he was facing it, he could see the concrete ramp leading to a loading dock and a bright yellow roller door.
Duke strode over to the door and whacked his machete against it. “C’mon, open up. We haven’t got all day.”
Pig wiggled his foot, searching for the spork. It had slipped down during the drive, but he could feel it wedged in his shoe on the outside of his foot.
The door clanked open and rattled, running on its rollers. Two filthy men dressed in ragged clothes and armed with bolt action rifles stepped back and let a woman dressed in a white lab coat pass. Lurking in the shadows behind were four Variants. Pig couldn’t see their deformed bodies, but their eyes shone in the early morning light.
“You’re late, Duke,” the lady in white said as she crossed her arms.
“Hey, I brought presents. Stop being a bitch.”
“Just hand them over, or I’ll feed you to my pets.” She jabbed her elbow back at the yellow eyes lurking in the shadows. One of the Variants hissed as if understanding the threat.
Duke held her gaze and gestured to his men.
The plebs shoved the captured soldiers forwards, jabbing them in the backs with their carbines. The men stumbled up the ramp. The ragged men guided them into a trailer attached to an ATV motorbike.
Duke stood back, waiting for the soldiers to be loaded. He gripped Pig’s arm firmly and addressed the woman. “This one is special. I want you to give him the royal treatment.”
She gazed for a long moment at Pig, her eyes roaming over him. “I don’t care what you want, Duke. I do the master’s bidding, not yours.”
Duke grunted and shoved Pig forwards. Todd kicked him up the ass as he stumbled past. “Enjoy, Pig!” he taunted.
Pig ignored them all and kept his eyes on the Variants, now that he could see them more clearly. They continuously clicked and hummed at each other and looked like all the Variants he had seen, but their skin was lighter, the skulls a more human shape. And the rotten fruit smell was less noticeable.
The ragged men pushed him into the trailer with the other four soldiers. The roller door slammed behind him, sealing them inside this place of death. Pig made a promise to himself to survive whatever was coming next and return to kill Duke.
The woman in the lab coat hopped into a six-wheeled farm vehicle and gunned the engine, heading deeper into the abattoir, the ATV and the Variant guards following close behind. They drove into a vast empty room with polished concrete floors. Pig had expected to see old machinery and equipment. He shifted around to face forwards. A wide hole loomed in the distance, and they disappeared into its depths.
Where the hell are we going?
He grasped Nathan’s shoulder, getting his attention. “If we look after each other, we can survive this.”
Nathan nodded, but stared ahead and didn’t reply. Pig knew shock when he saw it and left the man alone. He eyed the guards and their Variant companions, fearful of what lay at the end of the tunnel.
— 17 —
Dee clung to Aroha as they sprinted down the tunnel. The uneven ground was littered with rocks and debris, so she kept her eyes firmly on the ground, only glancing ahead periodically to check on Boss a few metres in front. Dee’s powerful headlamp illuminated the rocky surfaces with ease. Jack and Yalonda’s grunts of exertion and the Variant howls and shrieks chased Dee down the twisting maze. She dared not pause for fear of being overrun and torn apart. Her greater fear was to see Aroha ripped from her grasp and devoured. That thought spurred her on.
The Renegades ran down tunnel after tunnel, through cold underground streams, past glittering caves full of stalagmites. Dee’s heart thudded against her chest as she gasped for breath with each step, and her beaten, exhausted body screamed for a rest.
After what seemed like hours of running, Boss skidded to a stop and pointed down yet another tunnel, one that was narrower than the present one. Dee spotted an unnatural orange glow in the distance.
She handed Aroha to Boss. “Go. Take her. Protect her.”
Pivoting, she swung up her AR-15 and covered Jack and Yalonda. Her headlight flashed over the ceiling and walls, illuminating dozens of Variants. Shrieking, they scampered over every surface. The whole morbid scene reminded her of the goblins in the mines of Moria.
Great. Now I’m thinking in movies too.
Jack and Yalonda brushed past her and she ducked in after them. Even if this new tunnel led to nothing, at least she and the Renegades had a chance in this narrower passage. They could mow the Variants down in a crossfire until their last bullet had been fired.
Better to die on my feet than cowering on my knees.
Dee burst through from the tunnel into a corridor. The walls and floor were concrete, with a rubber mat lining the floor. Lights glowing a burnt orange were screwed at equal intervals along its length. She swung her rifle around to face the pursuing Variants. Strangely, they stood huddled together, twenty metres away. They were clicking at each other and hissing but did not advance.
Dee’s finger itched on the trigger. She wanted nothing more than to fire every last bullet at these abominations of nature.
Jack came up beside her and pushed down on her carbine. “Leave it. They’re not attacking.”
“It’s like they’re scared of this place.”
“Or something in here. Don’t you recognise it, Dee?”
Keeping her rifle up, she let her eyes roam around the corridor. Squishing her eyebrows together, she gasped. “You’re kidding? The lab?”
He nodded and pointed at the jagged edges of the concrete where the tunnel met the smooth concrete of the lab.
“Something dug all those tunnels. Linking to here. But the bigger question is, why?”
“I knew something was off with this place when we rescued Katherine.”
Jack shook his head. “All that for nothing. And now they want this logbook. Well, since we’re here and all that.”
Dee looked at the Variants and relaxed a little. Boss and Aroha were a few metres away, sharing a water bottle. Aroha’s eyes flickered around the corridor.
“Okay. Let’s go for the logbook and then get the hell out. Can you remember what lab number?”
“Lab five. But let’s find somewhere to rest for a bit. The Variants aren’t chasing us now, and whatever they’re afraid of isn’t close by.”
Dee clasped Jack’s shoulder. “We need to call this in.”
She scooped Aroha up and turned to Boss. “Keep trying Ben, okay?”
“Okay.”
Adjusting Aroha, Dee trudged after her husband, thankful for the respite. Yalonda took up her rear-guard spot, with Boss just in front, the radio headphones firmly on his head. It was how they had trained with Ben all those months. He had assessed each of them, then assigned them positions in the Renegades.
Jack was the scout, point man or ranger. He was responsible for navigation and scouting ahead.
Boss was secondary scout and their radio operator.
Ben, up until recently, had been their leader.
Dee was the team’s medic and rifleman.
Yalonda was the sniper and tail-end Charlie.
Dee felt a lump in her throat as her mind drifted to Simpson and Chang. Chang had been a sniper too, and Simpson, despite his character flaws, had been their leader. She was always shocked how easily soldiers fell in battle with the Variants. With each safe return from a mission, she wondered why she had made it home to hug her loved ones when others had not. Survivor’s guilt, Jack called it.
Dee brushed away her thoughts and hugged Aroha closer. Jack stopped outside a dull grey door with Q1 painted in black stencil at its centre. A keypad glowed next to it, its number shining a dull green.
“Ca
n you think of that code?” he asked her.
“NZLV something?”
“Yeah that was it. But it had a number after it.”
Dee covered his hand with hers. “You’ll think of it. I know you will.”
Jack looked into her eyes and smiled. Then he turned and ran his thumb over the keypad. Dee left him alone and wriggled out of her pack. From the way Aroha had gulped down that water, she had to be hungry as well.
“Fancy some more chocolate?”
Aroha grinned and accepted the treat.
“Boss, you should eat something. We might not get another opportunity for a while.”
“Listen to her, kid,” agreed Yalonda. She was munching on a protein bar, her L96 trained back the way they had come.
Boss sighed audibly and extracted his own bar. “No luck with the radio, Dee,” he said, munching.
“Okay. Keep trying, every opportunity possible.”
A rumble sounded down the corridor, rattling Dee’s teeth. Even the strange beetle and mole Variants they had tangled with hadn’t sounded like this. She snapped her carbine up, searching for the source. Aroha squeezed behind her, clinging to her leg.
“Jack!”
“I’m working on it!”
The sound rumbled again, and just above it, a higher-pitched howl sounded. Dee frowned. That sounded like a canine cry. Max? Squinting down the corridor, she searched for their furry friend, but the orange lights were there for guidance only. She wanted to use her headlamp, but feared alerting whatever dwelt in here to their presence.
Max’s black and white form came tearing up the corridor. Dee gasped at what followed, and understood why he was fleeing. Max barked a warning and spun around, snarling. She ignored the dog and opened fire at the Variants that pursued him.
At least, she thought they were Variants. The creatures had the same torso as Variants, but instead of humanoid body and legs, they each had a fat lower body and six legs. They reminded Dee of a weta. Their legs clicked on the rubber mat as they scuttled along, the sound echoing off the walls. Dee shut it all out and opened fire. Yalonda and Boss’s guns barked next to her, spewing out their deadly projectiles.
Extinction NZ (Book 3): The Five Pillars Page 11