The weta Variants separated into three groups. One group scampered up onto the ceiling while the other two hugged the walls, leaving a central gap.
Dee shuffled back a step at the sight of the giant creature that ambled down the corridor beyond them. Huge and muscular with dull features, like someone had chiselled away all the edges leaving a humanoid potato with a shark’s mouth. Another blasted Alpha!
“Yalonda! Ceiling! Boss, take left!”
Desperately she peppered the huge Variant with the last of her magazine. It shrugged off the rounds like they were gnats. With no time to change, she pulled her Glock free and emptied that too.
“Got it!” shouted Jack.
Dee didn’t hesitate. She gathered Aroha up and dashed into the room. Yalonda fired another burst and stepped in after Boss. Jack shoved the door closed, smashing it against the head of a weta Variant. The creature hissed and spat globs of saliva at them. One of its spiny legs whipped into the gap, searching for flesh to tear.
Yalonda screamed and hacked at the head with her hatchets, strong, precise blows that cut deep into the skull, covering her in stinky black blood. The creature stilled and Dee shoved it back through, shutting the door with a clang before sliding the bolt across.
The beasts howled and screeched at the humans, scratching at their only exit.
The Renegades stood in a tight semi-circle, looking at each other and gasping for breath. The door thudded and shook, rattling in its frame but holding fast.
Dee did a quick survey of the room. Four sets of bunks lined two walls. A large wooden table and some chairs occupied the centre of the room. Metal lockers had been placed on the other two walls.
Jack and Yalonda read her mind and started pulling the nearest bunk across the door. She and Boss grabbed another, and they wedged them together. It was a flimsy barricade but would have to do for now.
She listened to the beasts beyond, howling and shrieking, for a few moments before turning her attention to Max. He was licking her hand and panting heavily. She poured some water into a cup and the heading dog drank, slurping up mouthfuls of water. Dee smiled at the sight. None of them had had much rest in the last twenty-four hours.
“What the hell were those things out there?” she asked, looking at the Renegades.
Boss shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. She was worried for him, knowing that this was the most combat action he had seen. He looked away and took his pack off his shoulders.
“Does it matter? They just want to eat us, like all the rest,” said Yalonda.
“Jack?” Dee queried, looking at her husband.
He rubbed a hand through his hair and walked over, sitting next to her at the table. “I don’t know, but I don’t think they’re natural.”
“Were they ever? Didn’t the virus come from a military lab?”
“True. What I mean is, where have all these strange beasts been? Up until now, we’ve only seen the humanoid ones.”
“Do you think this lab has something to do with it? The lights are still on, so someone is still here.”
Jack lifted his eyes and Dee returned his gaze. That unspoken recognition of understanding and love passed between them. She knew that he was thinking, like her, about their flight through this lab all those months ago. He had expressed his doubts over Katherine’s explanation as to the whereabouts of the other lab employees back then. Both she and Ben had rationalised that Katherine had no reason to lie. Now, after seeing this, Dee had her doubts.
Boss scraped his chair back on the floor and looked at her. “I just want to know how we’re getting out of here?”
She raised her eyebrow. “Let’s eat something, and figure that out after. We need that logbook too.”
“The logbook? Seriously? And how can you eat with that racket going on!” Boss gestured to the door.
“Boss. Sit down and eat something,” said Jack.
“Why? What’s that going to do?”
“Because you always think better fed and rested. During the war, my grandfather was a paratrooper. Often parachuting behind enemy lines and cut off from friendly troops. His unit’s job was to secure bridges and, if necessary, fix them. Stop the Nazi scum from blowing them up as they retreated. His captain, like Ben, drummed into their heads: Eat when you can, sleep when you can. This mantra served him well. He survived. Do you know what Napoleon said?”
Dee smiled, listening. Yalonda pulled her cap down and leant back in her chair. Dee handed Aroha a pack of jerky and chewed on some of the dried meat herself, her eyes on Max resting at her feet.
“No. But I know you are going to tell me,” said Boss.
“He said an army marches on its stomach.”
“Okay. All right. I’ll eat. But going after the logbook is crazy. Just saying.”
“You’re right. It is crazy. But seeing as we’re here anyway, we have a chance. A chance to end this madness. So, we’re doing it.”
“You said that about the case. And now you’re back.”
Dee looked at Jack and shook her head slightly, warning him to stop. “Boss. I know it’s crazy,” she said, “but if there is a chance that the scientists can use the logbook to find a cure, then we have to take it. No matter the risk. That’s our job. We signed up for it so we could make a difference.”
“Okay, Dee.”
She smiled at Boss and stepped over to Jack. He handed her an MRE. She tucked into the high calorie meal, gulping it down.
He’s right. This is madness. SUSFU. Situation unchanged: still forked up.
— 18 —
A cacophony of howls and shrieks greeted Derek as he rode the mountain bike through the maze of tunnels. He had painted a white arrow at each turn so he could navigate to the winery. It became easier to find his way after the cavern. Unlike most mazes, there was no system. For some reason the moles had gone crazy digging passages near the nest of the winged demon, hence the need for markers.
Vibrations swept down the tunnel towards him, and he slowed down. Something had the beasts riled up. He edged his way forwards and cast his eyes around the cavern they used as a nest. Hundreds of the pale creatures were screeching and jumping around. On the far side of the cave, they were sprinting down the tunnel and back again.
Derek frowned. During the day, the monsters slept. It was at night that they really came alive, hunting and feeding, always searching for fresh meat. But since Abezi had taken over, Derek had noticed a change. Before, the beasts had been a disorganised collection of packs, and some had had Alphas leading them, morphing them into larger tribes. The packs had constantly fought each other over any scrap of food, and when they couldn’t find humans or mammals to feed on, they turned on each other.
Clubber, the Alpha he served, was one of three dominant beasts in the area. He grimaced, recalling the deceased fourth, the one who had carried severed heads displayed on his shoulders. The most evil one. He had fed exclusively on children. Derek saw it as a blessing that a special ops team had destroyed him. After his death, the creatures he’d commanded had returned to a broken collection of packs, fighting amongst themselves in an unholy war. Clubber and his tribe had fought for control of what was once known as the Waikato and Bay of Plenty.
None of that mattered now, though. Some time ago, Abezi had appeared out of the night, wailing. He had swooped down and torn apart creature after creature before eating an Alpha, while Clubber watched on. And just like that, the territory belonged to Abezi.
Derek wasn’t sure, but he suspected that because there were three winged beasts, they controlled a lot more territory.
He sighed and pushed his bike in front of him. Even though Abezi had marked him as his, he could feel his heart thumping against his ribs and his hands slipped on the handle grips thanks to the sweat pouring from him. Being amongst these man-killers still scared him. Two Variants scampered over, snarling, their joints clicking and popping. They sniffed him and hissed. Eyes forwards, he wheeled his bike on.
Derek stared at the
dead Variants and the spent shell casings that littered the cave floor. More evidence that someone had sprung his trap. If there was one thing he knew, that was human nature. You hear a distress call, it is only natural to respond.
The moles had found the winery in their diggings, and he had been sent to clean up the mess. The complex had been a gold mine of supplies. If the moles hadn’t found it, the survivors could have lived there for at least another year. It hadn’t taken him long to find the radio. Fixing it had been a pain in the ass, though. Then he had recorded a message, set it to play on a loop and hooked into their security cameras and waited. He had been surprised it had taken ten days for someone to respond, given all the army activity in the area.
Taking left turns and keeping a steady pace, Derek exited the tunnel system under a canopy of conifers, their needles littering the ground at his feet. He could see the winery peeking through from beyond the trunks.
A dozen or so Variants milled around the factory building. He scanned the area with his binos, wary of finding armed soldiers. Satisfied it was clear, he jogged from the trees.
Derek wished he had a rifle or something, but he carried no weapons. Abezi didn’t allow it. Entering the factory, he held his nose at the stench of the dead mole. A large hunk of its torso had been blown off. Derek poked at it with his foot.
The metal stairs that led to the mezzanine level had taken a lot of damage. Someone had covered their escape route by blowing the steps into a twisted mess. As with the cave creatures, the Variants in the factory sniffed the air but left him alone. He stood back and watched them for a while, noting their behaviour. They took turns scrambling up to the mezzanine level, disappearing into the office, and returning a couple of minutes later.
Derek hunted for another way into the manufacturing plant. He tried door after door but, without coming back with tools, there was no way through.
He returned to the yard and grabbed his binoculars. He surveyed the wall to the north, noting the vehicles pushed aside like toys. Just past the wall was an abandoned 4x4. Walking briskly, he reached the wall. The tourist coach that normally covered the gate had been tipped over and lay on its side. Windows had been smashed and thousands of shards of glass twinkled in the morning light.
An eerie silence surrounded the scene of destruction as Derek continued his search. It didn’t take him long to find the fallen soldier. The bus had fallen on top of him, trapping him underneath. One foot jutted out, leaving his torso, legs and head in the bus. The Variants had fed on his foot, leaving strips of sinew and the odd bit of tissue. Unable to reach the rest of him, he was still very much intact. Derek caught a glimpse of dog tags flashing under his shirt. He moved in, trying to read them, but stumbled backwards and fell onto his behind when the soldier raised his head. The soldier moved his mouth, but there was no way he could hear him. He searched for a way in.
He may work for the enemy, but Derek liked to think that as a fellow human, he would be available to hear the man’s last words. The emergency exit was out, as it was underneath the bus. Derek wracked his brain. He thought about all the trips he had taken on coaches in his life. Remembering the maintenance trap-doors they had in the floor, he moved around the coach and hunted under the chassis. He looked around for any Variants. Satisfied they were not observing him, he wriggled through the small opening and slid down to the soldier. He could now see that the man had Asian features and carried a military rifle. Blood coated the right side of his head, matting his hair. The man groaned and twisted his head. He coughed once, flecks of blood spraying out. Derek could now see the black bruises that covered his skin in blotches.
“Please help me,” he said weakly.
The man pulled a small item from his shirt pocket, holding it out for Derek. Derek took the item and felt a lump forming in his throat. It was a faded and creased photograph of a dark-haired woman and a freckle-faced girl.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Give…to them… Chatham…Chang…”
Chang coughed up more blood, thick gobbets dribbling down his chin.
Derek looked down at the man and was overcome with remorse. For seven months he had served the beasts, watched hundreds of humans being led to the slaughter. He had guarded the beasts, seen children led to death chambers. Their screams haunted his dreams. All the time he had attempted to justify his actions, arguing that it was for Sophie. So she could live on, unharmed. But how many deaths must he be party to in order to save one? How could he justify his actions? Here was a human, willing to sacrifice his life for the greater good. For humanity.
Derek nodded and grasped the soldier’s hand. “I’ll do my best. I’ll tell them you died defending others.”
Chang closed his eyes and let out a wheeze.
“How many more of you were there?”
“A few…” Chang’s chest rattled in a coughing spasm lasting several seconds. Derek marvelled at how he had lived. The pain of his foot being eaten and his legs being crushed should have already killed him.
Chang pulled a handgun from his side. His grip weak, it fell out of his hand and clanged against the coach.
His eyes searched out Derek’s. “Please… Kill me. I don’t want to become one of them.”
Derek stared down at the fallen handgun. Could he do it? Actually end a man’s life himself? He looked out the coach window towards the mountains, then out over the farmland; over at the smashed vehicles, at the buildings surrounded by Variants. He glanced up at the morning sky tinged with pink, clouds dotting the blue, and finally he cast his eyes back to the soldier trapped under the bus. Men and women still fought for this land, spilling their blood so that their children could once again live in a peaceful world.
He grasped Chang’s shoulder. The man’s eyes flickered open. “I’m sorry. I’ll get your photo to your wife.”
Chang wheezed. “Thank you.”
Derek placed the gun against Chang’s temple and pulled the trigger. The gunshot thundered inside the bus. Then he wedged the gun in his belt and pulled Chang’s pack off. Finally, he scooped up the rifle and slung it over his shoulder.
With a last look over towards the winery, Derek said a silent curse to the monsters and headed for the 4X4 left behind by Chang and his comrades.
I’m coming, Sophie. I’m done serving evil.
— 19 —
Jack couldn’t sleep. He knew it was pointless trying as, tired as he was, his mind was whizzing at a hundred miles an hour, thinking of all the possible scenarios. He never let on to the others, but the pressure of always navigating, always being on point, wore him down. Yes, he was good at it. Most of the time he loved it. But right now he’d had enough.
Max had made himself a bed on some discarded clothes and was resting his head on his paws, snuffling as he breathed out.
I wish I could do that.
Jack paced around the cramped sleeping quarters. The walls were pale grey. Above each bunk, the scientists who had once lived and worked here had adorned their wall-space with photos of loved ones. He only glanced over the pictures, not wanting to focus on the people in them. They reminded him too much of family he’d lost.
The Variants in the hall had given up trying to break through the door some time ago, but the sounds of them scampering around, joints popping, still filtered through. Thankfully the solid steel door muffled the worst of it. At the back of the room was a small bathroom with a shower and toilet in each corner. A long hand basin unit and mirror dominated the other wall. A metal grate covered the floor.
Jack looked up at the air conditioning vent and sighed. Too small for the adults. Aroha could fit through, but then what? The ceiling, like the walls, was solid concrete, so he couldn’t escape that way this time. He cast his eyes to Boss and Aroha, curled up together as they slept, and the next bunk, where Yalonda snored softly, her rifle tucked by her side. He eyed them all with envy. His muscles longed for rest, but his OCD was having none of it.
Dee had volunteered first watch and h
ad pulled up a chair next to the bunks blocking the door. She dutifully kept her AR-15 trained on the door.
Jack smiled at her as she caught him gazing. He walked over and sat on the bunk next to her.
“Still can’t sleep?”
“No chance. I hate feeling trapped.” He pulled down his fatigues, smoothing them. “The only way I can see out of here is the air vent, but only Aroha could fit through. So that’s out.”
Dee shifted in her seat and rested her carbine on her knee. She made eye contact with him. “Do you remember that scene in The Fellowship of the Ring where Gandalf is stuck at the junction in the mines of Moria?”
“Of course.”
Dee raised an eyebrow. He stared at her for a moment, trying to figure why she’d mentioned it. He mulled over the scene in his mind. Having seen the movie countless times, he knew it completely.
Grinning, he glanced back at his wife. “Gandalf sat and meditated. He knew the answer would come to him eventually.”
“Exactly. Jack, you know I have faith in you. We’ve always found our way out. Sitting here, I got to thinking about why I love you. About your love of nature, of movies, of music. How you are loyal, kind and loving. Yes, you have a temper and can be quick to anger, but behind those small faults lies the smartest, most loving man I could ever have dreamed of meeting, let alone be his wife and partner in life. We survived the apocalypse. We kept fighting.”
Jack smiled and rubbed her leg. “I couldn’t have asked for a better woman than you, Dee.”
She leant in and kissed him. He let his lips linger on hers, committing the feeling to memory in case they didn’t make it home. Dee pulled away from him and pointed at the bathroom. “So then I was thinking, why is the floor in there a metal grate? Where do the drains go?”
Jack sat up, banging his head on the bunk above him. Ignoring the pain that stung his eyes, he kissed Dee on the lips. “Of course!” He laughed. “Now to figure out where Lab Five is, and we can get the hell out of here.”
Extinction NZ (Book 3): The Five Pillars Page 12