— 29 —
Colonel James Mahana paused in the doorway to his office and stared at the pile of reports that sat on his desk. Sighing, he lifted the steaming cup of coffee to his lips and took a sip, relishing the bitter taste of the caffeine. He didn’t mind it black and sugarless, though many of the enlisted did. Unfortunately for them, milk and sugar were fast becoming precious luxuries.
Sitting down at his desk, James started scanning through the reports from his field commanders and staff sergeants. They were pushing forwards metre by metre, but at the cost of a lot of men and women. They were fighting hard and bravely, but the sheer number of Variants was often overwhelming, and it depleted their meagre resources. Especially ammo.
He lifted a blue folder from the pile and skimmed over the page. A couple of nights ago they had lost three 6WDs and fifteen men to a civilian raiding party. A fact that disturbed him. James couldn’t figure out why people were collaborating with the beasts.
Growing sick of reading casualty numbers, he finished his coffee and checked his watch. 10:55. He had five minutes before the next war council. He shut his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, using a technique he’d learned while practising Kung Fu. Three deep breaths in and one long one out. The technique always calmed his cluttered mind and helped him focus.
Exiting his office, he spotted Badminton standing to one side. “Do you have those maps I asked for?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Badminton, holding up the maps.
“Good. And the intel from Sergeant Hollis?”
“Yes, sir.”
James gave him a curt nod and gestured to the head room.
The officers stood as the Colonel and Badminton entered the room. Badminton saluted him along with the rest of the men. James held the salute and appraised his fellow soldiers. Counting himself, there were twelve officers. He held the eyes of the four women who proudly stood with the men. James wished he had more. They were a ragtag bunch, some wearing scrounged-together and ill-fitting uniforms. One or two were overweight. And some sported beards and long hair. But one thing they all had in common was the pride shining from their eyes. Pride, determination and love for New Zealand. It was exactly what James wanted. Determination to save this country from the horror of the Variants.
“Morning, gentlemen and women. At ease.” He remained standing while his officers took their seats. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how desperate it’s becoming out there. We’re still in Phase One of Operation Utu and we’ve barely gained fifty kilometres. Thanks to NZ SAS Team Whatura, we have secured Papakura Base. We should be receiving shipments of ammunition and food via the river tomorrow.”
James noted the appreciative nods from the COs. He nodded at Badminton, then waited for the Lieutenant Colonel to pin the map to the board at the end of the table.
Using a laser pointer, James highlighted an area by the town of Morrinsville. “The night before last, one of our supply convoys was attacked by a group of civilians. Well-armed and ruthless. They killed all the men and stole two of the trucks, blowing up the third. I want those responsible found and dealt with!” He slammed his fist on the table.
The COs returned his steely gaze.
“Sergeant Hollis reported seeing a convoy of five heading through Hamilton and east towards the coast. His report detailed that the civilians have modified their vehicles with metal plates and spikes.”
“I volunteer Team Heke, sir.” James glanced at Captain Arenson. A short but wily man, James liked him. Tough and strong-willed, but he had a strange obsession with K-pop and pancakes. Trained by the Israeli army, he was lethal in combat.
Arenson nodded at him.
“Very good, Arenson. Take one of the smaller boats and navigate upriver. Use the Waipa as far as Pirongia.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Intel only at this stage. Don’t engage.” He activated his pointer and highlighted the next area of the map. “We carry on as planned. We must take the land around Morrinsville and Hamilton. We need those two towns. Hamilton for the river and Morrinsville for the train. Let’s get it done. For humanity. For everyone. I don’t know about you lot but I’m tired of this war. So, let’s end it.”
He stood, indicating the council was over.
The gathered officers rose, saluted and filed out of the room. Badminton stood to one side and waited until they had left.
“Sir. Can I speak to you about something?”
“What is it, Badminton?”
“One of the ROs going over the recordings from this morning found a scrambled SOS.”
“Captain Johns?”
“Yes, sir. I believe so.”
Badminton handed him the report. James glanced down at the paper.
Alpha base. This is…le 1…under attack from a flying Variant. Chopper is damaged…8 aboard…
James read over the report a couple more times. When Captain Johns had gone MIA, James had been furious at the SAS soldier. He had expected it, but the sneaky old bastard had stolen a chopper and gone searching for his Renegades. He sighed. Another team lost to the Variants.
“Sir?” Badminton was waiting for his instructions.
“I suppose you want to go off chasing shadows? Chasing snippets of messages?”
“Yes, sir. It’s Captain Johns and the Renegades.”
“Denied. I’m sorry, Lieutenant. We just can’t spare the men or the resources to save one team, chasing a maybe.”
James held Badminton’s gaze. He could tell the soldier was furious from the way his eyebrows scrunched together for a fleeting moment, even though he hid it well.
James pivoted and walked away, ending the conversation. As much as it pained him to ignore the distress call, what he had told Badminton was true. They were running on empty. Low on personnel. Low on morale. And low on hope.
He stared towards the mountains that surrounded the Hauraki plains.
What hope do we have against an army of millions?
James squinted into the morning sun at the sight of a black smudge approaching from the south. He pricked his ears, expecting to hear the thump of rotors, but the wind whistled by in silence. His mind flashed back to Matariki night and the creature he’d thought he saw plunge into the sea.
James watched the smudge grow bigger and take shape, morphing into a large humanoid figure, expansive wings beating at its sides.
The flying Variant drew closer, then another banked away from behind it, heading directly for the mess hall. The beasts let out wails so loud they rattled James’s teeth.
Snapping out of his trance, he sprinted for the armoury and raised his radio to his lips. “Sound the alarm! We are under attack!”
The scream of the old World War Two siren echoed through the camp, stirring the men and women into action. Several stood rooted to the spot, watching as the beasts soared towards the camp.
“Take cover!” James warned as he dived behind a parked jeep.
The Variant spewed out a stream of blue liquid, coating the soldiers and half the vehicle. The soldiers screamed and dropped to the ground, thrashing violently as they died, tendrils of smoke rising from their smouldering bodies.
The stench of burning flesh filled James’s nostrils, and suddenly he was back in Iraq, surrounded by screaming, burning children in the aftermath of a car bomb. He had tried to help, but when he touched their flesh it disintegrated beneath his fingers. He felt so lost, so hopeless, so unwanted as the civilians pushed him out of the way.
No. I’m not that man anymore.
James stood and unholstered his Glock. Tracking the Variant, he unloaded his magazine. The bullets bounced harmlessly off its head and torso. He switched his aim and peppered the wings with holes. The Variant shrieked and swooped above him, its head pulling back.
“Shoot the bastard!” he screamed. Soldiers all around him reacted and fired their rifles. “Aim for the wings!”
James took an M4 off a soldier and spun. Lining up the beast, he waited for it to open its mout
h.
The creature rose higher, twisting and turning, keeping its head away from him like it knew what James planned.
His radio crackled. “Incoming hostiles. Multiple directions.” He snarled and glanced up at the flying Variant.
Just a distraction.
James shouldered his M4 and ran for the fence. “High alert!”
Reaching the top of the guard tower, he gawked at the approaching wave of Variants. They scrambled and crawled out of every grove of trees. Out of every house and building. He lifted his binoculars and swept them over the plains towards the swamp that had once dominated this land.
A large, lumbering Alpha emerged from the manuka and stared at him, as if he knew James was watching. James turned to the sergeant next to him. “So, it begins.”
— 30 —
The elderly Maori lady handed Jack the bandage and he gently wrapped it around Dee’s torso before handing it back to her. Tighter they wound it, earning a grimace from Dee.
“Careful.”
“Sorry, babe.”
“It has to be tight, missus, if you want to fight the Rewera,” the elderly lady explained.
“I know. Thank you.”
Dee squeezed Jack’s hand as they wrapped the last of the bandage around her bruised and broken rib. Thankfully only the one.
The elder handed Dee two capsules. “Take these. It will help with the pain.”
“What is it? A herb?”
“Nah. Tramadol,” the elder laughed, a deep chuckle vibrating through her. She pulled the rest of the foil from her pocket. “Take one or two as you need them. But careful. They’re addictive.” She handed Jack the pills and smiled.
“Thank you for your help.” Jack paused, his mind casting back several months. “You’ve helped us twice now and we never introduced ourselves. I’m Jack. This is Dee.”
The elder smiled at them. “You’re welcome. Betty. But everyone calls me Takuta.”
“Well, thank you, Takuta.”
Takuta shuffled off and attended the other patients. Jack helped Dee pull on her shirt, then did the buttons up for her. She swallowed the two pills and finished the glass of water, gulping it down.
“How bad is it out there?”
“Thousands of them. Stretching across the valley.”
Jack linked his fingers through her hands and gently kissed her. His wife returned the kiss, and his mind raced with all the fond memories they had experienced together.
Hikes exploring the mountains. Trips overseas, learning new cultures. Nights out eating new foods.
Jack sighed and stood. “I’ll grab you some food.” He checked his watch. “Ben estimates they’ll be here in thirty minutes.”
Dee pushed herself off the bed. “I’ll come with you. I want to check on the girls before the battle begins.”
They emerged from the infirmary, the November sun beating down on them. It was nearing noon and the temperature was rising. Jack looked east, to the dark banks of clouds heavy with rain rolling in. They gave the vista a gloomy feel.
“I never imagined us doing something like this,” Dee said as they followed the aromas of food cooking.
The meeting house with its gleaming carvings stood proudly in front of the kitchens and dining halls. Men on ladders were undoing the bolts that held the woodwork to the building.
“I never imagined us doing any of this either, Dee. Fighting in the army. Killing mutated humans. Surviving by the skin of our teeth. Finding George, Leela, Aroha and Sophie.”
“All those apocalypse books you read, all those films. And you never imagined this?” Dee questioned, raising her eyebrow.
Jack could tell she was being sarcastic and grinned. “Well, perhaps imagined is the wrong word. Perhaps I meant guessed.”
“Yes. Guessed is right. I’m glad I’m here with you. Whatever happens today, tonight, remember that I love you and always will. If there is an afterlife, come and find me.”
They stopped outside the dining hall and removed their boots.
“You better not die on me or else I’ll resurrect you and slap you silly.” He grinned at Dee and couldn’t help the chuckle.
She joined him, then clutched her ribs, grimacing. “Don’t make me laugh,” she protested.
Jack smiled at the sight of Sophie and Aroha enjoying their big lunch as they entered the dining hall. He ushered his wife inside, eager to eat a decent meal.
***
Their hunger satisfied, Jack and Dee walked across the Pa to the wall. Yalonda and Boss stood near the steps that led up to the platform ten metres above them.
“Nice of you two lovebirds to show up,” Yalonda teased.
Boss gave Dee an awkward hug and whispered something in her ear.
“Thanks, Yalonda. Did you get one of the pies?” Jack asked, eyebrow raised.
“They have pies? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He chortled and waved to Ben. “I’m kidding.”
“You bastard! No one should kid about pies.” Yalonda huffed and shouldered her sniper rifle.
Jack shrugged into his combat vest and secured his cap. Boss had stuffed his vest with full magazines and a couple of frags. He wiggled his shoulders, trying to find a comfortable spot with all the extra weight.
Ben called down to Jack, “Help Johnson with the M2s.” Jack turned to where Ben was pointing a few metres away. The co-pilot was struggling to lift the guns onto his shoulder. That must be Johnson.
After checking the .50 cal. wasn’t loaded, he grasped the barrel and duck-walked up the steep stairs, straining under the weight of the gun and the ammo boxes. The sweat poured off him as he concentrated on putting one foot behind the other. Going backwards upstairs was never easy.
“Where do you want it, Ben?”
“This wall at the far end.”
Jack glanced around and marvelled at the fortifications the Maori had built. Two semi-circular walls jutted out from the solid fence that surrounded the pa. Beyond the outer wall, hundreds of spiked poles stuck out in rows, like the teeth of a great white shark. Trenches had been dug and Maori stood within, waiting.
“I feel like I’ve stepped into Helm’s Deep and am awaiting the Uruk-hai.”
Johnson looked up, sweat glistening on his brow. “The what now?”
“Just a movie battle. This Pa and the Variants remind me of it.”
Johnson frowned at him. Jack cast his eyes around the inner pit. The distinct smell of kerosene wafted on the breeze, and he noted the three drawbridges that spanned between the two walls.
“You have to admit, it’s an engineering marvel.”
“It’s impressive, I’ll give you that. Let’s hope we can survive long enough for reinforcements to arrive.”
The two men reached the covered tower at the end of the inner wall and hoisted the gun onto its tripod. A couple of Maori helped bolt it, then Jack showed them how to load and operate it.
“Thanks, guys. Wait for Ben’s signal before shooting. And aim for the centre mass. Here.” He pointed to his chest. The Maori nodded, then he ran through it one more time. Comfortable they understood, he jogged over to the position Ben had assigned him on the outer wall.
By the time Jack reached the outer wall, the Variants were metres away from the buried spiked poles. He could see their hunched, deformed frames stacked in neat rows. Not bunched and chaotic, like normal.
Ugly, but clever.
His legs spasmed and shook. His mind flashed back to the meat locker, to when he’d been stuck to the wall. Thirsty, desperate and afraid, but determined to return to Dee.
Yes, to Dee. My rock. Do it for her.
He sucked in a breath and gripped his AR-15 tighter. His red-handled machete was strapped to his leg. Max padded up next to him and growled at the gathered mass of monsters. He looked up at Jack with his brown eyes and barked. Jack rested his hand on Max’s head calming him.
“You okay, Boss?” He glanced at the lanky teenager.
“I’d rather be home playing Tit
an Quest, but yeah, I’m okay.”
Jack smiled and blinked. “When they come, controlled bursts. We’ll do it for Dee.”
“For Dee.” Boss returned his smile and shifted his feet.
Jack raised his carbine and sighted a Variant through his scope. He flicked off his safety and waited for the charge.
— 31 —
The crack of gunfire erupted around Mahana and he squeezed off a burst from his M4, the weapon’s racket joining in the cacophony. His bullets slammed into the chest of a Variant, leaving gaping holes before the monster tumbled to the ground. The dead beast was quickly trampled beneath the stampede of rabid monsters.
James glanced to the sky, fearful of the winged creatures. He could see them hovering about a kilometre away, out of reach even for his snipers.
He thumbed his radio. “Snipers. Take down the Alphas and any large bastard. Head shots. Show me what you got.”
He slung his rifle over his shoulder and jogged along the scaffold platform to the central guard tower. He wanted to be higher to command his forces better.
By the time he reached the top, the Variants were nearly at the fence.
“Concentrate your fire on the front row!” Following up his orders with action, James shot a Variant through the head and another through the neck, sending black blood spraying. He glanced to his left and right at the men and women fighting alongside him. Grim expressions were plastered on their faces, but each one was firing into the horde nonetheless. Badminton joined James and let go a burst of rounds that killed three beasts directly below them.
James shouted over the gunfire, “How are my battalions?”
“They are under attack too, sir.”
He paused his firing and cursed. “Keep them focused. Whatever you do, don’t let the Variants flank us. We can’t fight them on multiple fronts.”
“Yes, sir.”
James looked back down at the mass of beasts. So far they were managing to keep them off the fence. The odd Variant broke through and tested the electrified barrier.
Extinction NZ (Book 3): The Five Pillars Page 18