“But these people are different. Tom is my friend. And his daughter is valuable.” Jimmy begged, mewling with almost childish intonation.
Tom’s heart sank. He wasn’t sure how, but Jimmy knew about Anna. Negotiation space was shrinking. Anna’s immunity was Omar’s ticket for sure. Whether he had made up his mind the minute he found out, or after reviewing the camera footage, it was now irrelevant.
Tom jolted. A gunshot rang out across the neighbourhood. Distant, yet close enough for all three men to instinctively duck. Then another. And another. More guns joined the first one, and the firing became more rhythmic. Tom had heard it before. Going by the echo, the firing was one-directional. This was no firefight between armed factions. Visibly displeased with the developments outside, Omar clenched his fists.
“It would appear time is even more of the essence than I had wished it to be.” He stood up, his tall figure towering above the desk and Jimmy, who sat still, eyes wide, like a schoolboy ready for a caning.
“Jimmy, have you made your choice?” He asked impatiently.
Gunfire now erupted all over the area. In a split-second, Tom stepped forward, drew his pistol, and exploiting the old man’s focus on his friend, placed the end of the barrel squarely between Omar’s eyes.
“He mightn’t, but I certainly have.” Tom cocked the gun, curling his index finger around the trigger. “Jimmy, are you coming?” He tapped the quivering man’s shoulder, Jimmy ever-shrinking in his chair.
“And you, Omar, sit the frig down and don’t move a muscle.” Tom backed away just enough to allow the old man to fall back into his armchair, all the while casting helpless glares of hatred and rage at the infidel.
Omar wanted to say something, but Tom motioned for him to keep quiet.
“To use your own words: unless you open your mouth to affirm that arrangements have changed, you will not say a word.” He could see fury in the old man’s eyes but was satisfied his words were having the desired effect.
“Jimmy, Jimmy!” He shook his friend, trying to re-instil focus. “Provided you would like to live, kindly tie our host to the chair and make sure he doesn’t say another word.”
Predictability was one of the few redeeming qualities Jimmy had left. Tom knew that no matter what the situation, Jimmy would always look out for number one. For now, he was still of use. He would deal with him later.
At that, Jimmy seemed to snap out of it and sprang into action. Tearing off Omar’s Kaftan sleeves and using them to tie him to the chair’s armrests, he shoved a ball of material in Omar’s mouth and secured it with a piece of tape from a roll on the desk. About to burst with rage, Omar’s eyes burned with hatred, and beads of boiling sweat covered his forehead. An explosion from nearby sent shockwaves through the neighbourhood and reverberated around the house. Dust trickled from a crack in the ceiling and onto the carpet.
“I guess the leaflet drop was late,” Tom grumbled, turning to leave the office. “Let’s go!”
There was a knock on the door. The two stopped in their tracks. Outside, one of Omar’s sons was shouting something in Arabic. Tom didn’t know what he was saying, but there was no mistaking the urgency in the voice. Tom pressed himself against the wall next to the doorframe and nodded. Jimmy understood immediately and pulled open the door in a single move. The man on the outside reacted no sooner he saw his father tied up in the desk chair. He brought up his AK and flicked off the safety at the same time, but stopped mid-motion. His eyes widened as the cold steel of Tom’s gun pressed against his temple. Omar’s son lowered his weapon. Following Jimmy’s gesture, he stepped into the room, where he was disarmed and tied up on one of the chairs near the workbench.
“I know you can understand me,” Tom derided, “so listen up: one move, one noise out of you, and it will be your last. That, I can guarantee.”
“What were you saying to your old man just before? And don’t bother lying. I will know if you do.” Tom now stood over him, holding a wad of tissue from the desk.
As much as the man was angry, he seemed panicked and eager to get his news off his chest.
“It is too late, infidel. You and your kind will finally be expelled.” His brows furrowed, and his face darkened as he delivered an unexpected message of hatred. “But it is not us, the true believers, who will crush you and your false beliefs. Our Prophet has chosen your own dead to rise against you and be the instrument of cleansing of these lands of your wretched existence.”
He spat on the floor in disgust and cast a fiery glare at the man standing over him, before turning his attention back to his father.
“Alhamdulillah, father, with her help, we have breached their defences. The dead ones are flooding the streets, and soon no infidel will remain untouched by the scourge.”
Tom could feel the cold tingle of creeping panic rising up his spine. His eyes darting back and forth between Jimmy and Omar’s son, he searched for answers. In response, Jimmy simply began drawing rapid circles with his index finger, indicating it was time to get going, and get going fast. Omar’s son’s gaze spewed hatred as he tried to resume his tirade, but a well-aimed whip from Tom’s pistol grip instantly sent him to the floor. Drooling from a slack jaw, his eyes rolled back in his skull.
“I'd say he won’t be out for too long.” Tom admired his handiwork. “So, let’s roll.”
Leaving a still tied-up and furiously wriggling Omar behind, the two darted to the formal living area where the rest of the group was cowering in fear of the blasts that continued to shake everything around them. Dust cascaded from cracks in the ceiling that seemed to widen with every shockwave. Frightened eyes met his as he scanned the group. Kneeling beside her, he hugged Anna. She trembled with fear as another explosion threatened to dislodge a piece of plaster from a wall nearby.
“It’s ok, sweetheart. We will be out of here in a minute,” he whispered softly into her ear before turning to the others.
“Listen, I know you are just as anxious as I am to leave this place, and we will in just a second. But Jimmy and I need to check something out topside first. Hang tight. We’ll be but a minute.”
Tom released Anna from his hold, and Nadia took her into her arms instead, gently stroking her hair with the kind of calm only a battle-hardened pilot like her could possess. One nod to Jimmy, and the two men flew up the stairs towards the rooftop. If what Omar’s son had said was true, running out without a recce could lead them straight into the arms of death itself, a prospect Tom neither relished nor planned to realize.
Within seconds the two crouched low behind the parapet, peering out through the gaps in the balustrade across the rooftops of the neighbourhood and onto the street below. Plumes of dirt and dust contrasted against the blue sky all around them. Rubble and debris shot sharply upwards only to rain down again upon the chaos below, as explosions now drifted further away up the coast and in the direction of the safe zone.
Somewhere within the soundscape of the city, wails of agony and hunger drifted up to the roof, confirming Omar’s son’s chilling message. Whoever had executed the attack had met their objective. The dead were pouring into the city and from what Tom was able to make out from the growing volume of their chorus, in ever greater numbers.
Their already narrow window of escape was closing, and soon, any attempt to cut through the dead ranks, let alone reach anything that resembled a safe haven would be nothing but an exercise in futility.
“Darn…” Jimmy scratched his head in disbelief. “We better haul ass while we still have one.”
There was nothing further to be gained. They had seen and heard enough. Making haste down the stairs, they quickly returned to the waiting group, wasting no time with explanations. Amadou opened his mouth but was immediately silenced.
“Not now, mate.” Tom held up one hand while grabbing Anna’s with the other. “Walk and talk, or better, RUN.”
With Jimmy already on his way to the exit, the others followed without delay, while Amadou, Tom, and Anna took up the group�
�s six, making sure neither of the men they had left behind in the office made an unwelcome reappearance.
Outside, the smell of smoke and death wafted through the air, with everything around them covered in a thick layer of sand-like grit and dust. Tom breathed a sigh of relief when through the narrow opening of the main entrance, the Humvee appeared before them. Untouched by the firestorm that had devastated so many structures in the area, it sat there, quietly, patiently, obliviously awaiting its next assignment.
They piled in much as they had before during their escape from the medical facility, only this time, it was Jimmy who took the wheel, the driver apparently having made good his escape as soon as the first explosions had started rattling the neighbourhood. Mama Samaki had hardly pulled shut the hatch when the vehicle jolted forward violently, Jimmy wildly stirring the gearstick to get moving.
“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” he shouted to the rear where anxious looks were exchanged, and urgency was as palpable as the smell of death in the air.
“The last man that said that nearly got us killed back in Nairobi.” Tom gave him a critical look.
He had reluctantly decided to ride shotgun, leaving Anna in the hands of Mama S. He hated not having her close, but between Jimmy’s driving skills and the need for at least a minimum of navigation, there was little choice.
Amadou and Nadia readied the few weapons available, checking ammunition, slamming magazines into and then cocking the levers of the M4s, their safeties eventually responding with a satisfying click. Tom began to sweat. His hands trembled as he unlatched the Humvee’s glove box and retrieved a Beretta M9. They had done this before alright, but that didn’t mean he felt prepared in the least. If anything, the experiences of the past few weeks had instilled a fear of the known in him he had never before experienced. Afghanistan had been different. Yes, there were surprises around every corner, but the enemy, at the end of the day, was as vulnerable as they were, and worse equipped to boot. Not only that, but the enemy there could be demoralized and deterred, persuaded to give up the pursuit. The dead knew no such notions. They were relentless, without fear or conventional weaknesses. The energy with which they pursued their prey seemed inexhaustible and was only surpassed by their ferocity. Thousands of them moving pertinaciously with a singular aim.
Right now, Tom was acutely aware more than ever before, there would be little but the skin of their transport and a few rounds of 9MM FMJ ammunition between Anna and what, going by the increasing volume of the moans, was an approaching horde that would make Westgate look like a playgroup.
Taking a deep breath, he placed the gun in his lap and turned around to the others. Pale faces told him no explanation was necessary. As Jimmy’s stirring action finally produced results, the Humvee’s struggling gears grated into action with a yelp and crunch, instantly sending the heavy vehicle into rapid acceleration. Barely making the corner from the service road onto the main street, he now turned the vehicle eastward, occasional glimpses of the shimmering waters of the Indian Ocean in the distance providing a much-needed beacon in a city where streets and buildings looked much the same for blocks on end.
The vehicle hit the road’s low concrete meridian, and its front axle rose sharply into the air. It leapt, bounced across, and came to a swaying halt on the other side. Tom cast Jimmy a confused look, who in turn rubbed his chin, inspecting the road in either direction.
“You do know where we’re going, right?” Tom pressed.
“I know where I want to go. But getting there without running into our army friends or the deadheads along the way is another question.”
Jimmy shrugged and continued to jog his memory for possible routes. Tom shifted uneasily in his seat. Seconds seemed to stretch to an hour in his mind. The temperature inside the cabin was rising quickly and sharply as it sat in the sun for what seemed like an eternity.
“Wherever we go, I suggest we don’t go that way.”
It was Amadou’s voice that cut through the lingering blanket of silence, sweat, and nerves. Tom’s head instantly snapped around, and a gasp by Mama Samaki confirmed what he already anticipated. The service road outside Omar’s house was crawling with the dead wall to wall. More and more kept spilling forward like a flash flood of human tissue, consuming every inch of available space and just about pouring out onto the main road. The sound and movement of the vehicle no doubt had caught their attention and created all the impetus needed to whip them into a frenzy. Although Tom estimated the bulk of the mass to still be 50 yards away, as always a handful of frontrunners, those corpses with better agility than their peers, were rapidly closing the distance.
“Go, go…” Nadia hissed, willing the vehicle to move, whatever the direction as long as it was away from their current predicament.
“Oh shit,” Jimmy exclaimed, his face quickly draining of all colour.
In the back, four sets of eyes darted, first forward, then over to their right. Another stream of corpses rounded the corner of the nearby intersection, heading straight for them in what was quickly becoming a pincer move between the two groups. Frantically rerouting the way in his head, Jimmy froze. Anna and Mama Samaki shrieked as the first dead hands, shredded flesh barely clinging to exposed bone, smeared black blood across the rear hatch window. Quickly joined by the voracious pounding of fleshy stumps where once fists had been, within the blink of an eye, the number of dead outside swelled, threatening to overwhelm them within seconds. Jimmy’s nails dug into the palm of his hands as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Sweat poured from under his ball cap.
Tom grabbed the pistol. There was no telling what would come next. Jimmy was rapidly losing capacity for rational thought. Tom looked back and his eyes met with Amadou’s in an instant meeting of minds. Propping his legs against the back of the driver’s seat, Amadou’s arms lunged forward and yanked Jimmy backward, over the driver seat and into the rear cabin. Simultaneously Tom sled sideways into the driver seat and took control of the vehicle. There was no time to waste. He sharply turned the wheel and came down hard on the accelerator, the Humvee responding dutifully and with the full force of its V8 engine. A myriad of broken nails scraped across metal and dead jaws went slack in surprise as the dead lost grip on their imminent meal, their front rows instead trampled and crushed by the avalanche of their peers in ravenous pursuit. The vehicle hurdled down the street, paralleling the ocean northward towards what had been the safe zone.
“Which way?” Tom barked.
Their current direction was as wrong as it was unsustainable, and he expected to run into armed reinforcements, undoubtedly trying to form a defensive perimeter at any moment.
“Which way?!” Amadou chimed in, vehemently shaking Jimmy back into reality and pressing his face against the window.
“Right,” Jimmy huffed, struggling to free himself from the Congolese’s steely grip. “You gotta take a right. And fast.”
There was a muffled thump as the heavy vehicle again turned abruptly, and Jimmy’s head connected with the door frame threatening to knock him out altogether.
“Guess I kinda deserved that.” Pulling himself back up, his sheepish face slowly appeared in the rearview mirror as he rubbed his head.
“Where to now?” Tom’s replied with a hint of annoyance.
The scoundrellous American’s deadpan humour had saved the day more than once when morale was low during missions gone bad and in situations dire beyond comprehension back in Afghanistan. But today wasn’t one of them, and failure not an option.
“Where to?” Tom hissed again, this time even more forcefully.
A brief shimmer of a metallic reflection caught his eye. Up ahead in the distance, several burning spheres appeared, menacingly gaining speed as they rose into the Azure. Time slowed and surrounds faded into the background. Tom’s eyes widened. He tried to shout something but felt the air sucked from his lungs. White light filled the cabin and engulfed everything around them. He felt himself lifted, for a moment suspended and
then tossed by giant hands with strangely soothing violence. The vehicle seemed to rise and float, then it plummeted. Anna’s eyes, seeking his, bulged with fear. A silent scream escaped her mouth.
It was the last thing he saw.
CHAPTER 15
A trickle of consciousness pulsed like sonar through the blackness. A glint of florescent light pierced the fog wafting through primordial gunk. Echoing cries blended with the clink and jangle of metal hitting metal. A sense of gravity followed, slowly telling his brain to reboot. He lay still and unmoving, sensing the current that began to tingle through the capillaries of his fingers. A twitch here, a brief flitter there; hands feeling starched sheets and cold metal. Smell returned. Iodoform and bleach. His nose twitched. His body yielding to gravity, fighting with flashes of chaos and white light too compelling to ignore, Tom gasped into consciousness.
“Where am I?” Tom sat up and grimaced as a bolt of blinding pain shot through the right side of his skull.
The doctor and his nurse, the only other people in the tiled clinical room, turned around in surprise.
“Welcome back, Mr… Mr. Railsback, is it?” The doctor examined a flipchart and smiled.
The nurse rushed over and placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder in support.
“You should not be sitting up. At least not yet.”
Tom’s eyes slowly adjusted, and the sting induced by the bright fluorescent lights subsided, leaving a dull pulsating pain emanating from the side of his head.
“Where am I? Where is Anna?” His voice was weak, his shaken brain evading every attempt at clear thought. “Where is…?”
He tried to remember his companions’ names, but another lightning bolt of pain made him spasm.
“Nurse Deidre is right, you know. You should not be moving at all right now. You are lucky to be alive.” The doctor looked over the rim of his glasses and frowned.
The Virophage Chronicles (Book 2): Dead Hemisphere [Keres Rising] Page 29