Infected

by Rolfe, Michael I

  Smith and his band of criminals survived initially because they did not have access to the electronic gadgets that had initiated the outbreak, then because they made an efficient force that cared for no one, they were band of hardened criminals that had come into their own in a world with no one to enforce the law or social norms. Other groups of survivors had paid the price when they had come in to contact with Smiths band of crooks, any men had been killed and women were raped, taken prisoner and imprisoned in an Army camp that Smith had made his base. Smith had no intention of letting that jumped up public school boy from the Army know the location of his base, Smith knew that the Major sorely wanted an excuse to disarm his gang and if that prick knew that they were keeping women imprisoned as slaves and play things the consequence would not be good for Smith or his men. His band of cons gathered around him and he said to them “I think we should have one last party with those bitches back at camp then get rid of them permanently, just in case that arsehole and his men come calling!”

  As their helicopter flew away Corporal Jenkins shouted to make himself heard over the noise of the engine and the beating of the blades “Boss, I don't think that “Smith” told us a single truth, not even his name!” The Major nodded his head in assent, “I agree, tell the men to keep a lookout for those pickup trucks in the future, I would like to keep an eye on that bunch of reprobates.” “Yes Boss!” replied a smiling Jenkins he knew that if the Boss wanted to keep an eye on that bunch, then it could get very interesting.

  Major Brown was beginning to realise that Operation Stone Cold was not going be an easy mission, it really was like looking for a needle in a haystack, what was worse the “needle” did not want to be found and this made sense given the fact that the Infected were hunting down any remaining humans. However hard the mission was, Brown did not question the importance of the task, in the absence of any progress in finding an inoculation to make humans immune to the infection, locating this Stone-Cold character could provide a crucial clue, and the scientists also needed to know why he appeared to be able to walk amongst the Infected without being attacked. Besides the Major liked being out on the ground with his Paratroopers, he suspected that once this mission was over and he took up his role commanding the new base that he was to set up, he would find little time to go gallivanting around the countryside with his men doing a proper solders job, he would miss it!

  During the last week, Brown’s platoon had been working from a forward operating base, half the platoon, some sixteen men plus the support crew for the two helicopters were left to guard the site while the other two teams used the aircraft to search for their target. Major Brown had ordered that the two helicopters fly together to provide mutual support, if one went down Brown did not want to lose all the passenger and crew to the Infection when the simple precaution of flying together could save a bad situation from getting a whole lot worse. Other reasons for not begrudging his current mission was the fact that during their search for Stone Cold, other survivors had been found and potential sites for the new camp had also been located, but so far none of them had ticked all the boxes so the search went on. They had spent seven days operating from the current base, searching the surrounding area thoroughly but finding no sign of Stone Cold, it was now time to move on to another forward operating base. The Platoon were excited with the prospect of the move and the possibilities that would bring, they may well find more survivors and that was always good for morale.

  All the men wanted to find Stone Cold, he was fast becoming a legend, this man that could walk freely amongst the Infected and who killed with a samurai sword like a fictional character from a manga comic or video game. In a world that had been ripped apart everyone needed something to cling on to, and in some way this elusive man was becoming that hope. Some, a mere few, clung on to religion but the Infected had virtually wiped out the faithful. At the height of outbreak, the devoted had gathered together at their places of worship praying to their respective gods to protect them from the plague, but their gods were not listening, and the churches, mosques, temples and synagogues became hotbeds of the infection. Major Brown was not religious, very much the opposite in fact, a staunch atheist, he believed that there were too few humans left to survive if the different religions were to re-establish, and then start to fight amongst themselves as had been their way. This new fledgling civilisation could not endure another Crusade, Inquisition, Witch Hunt or Jihad, if there was another so called ‘Holy War’ it could spell the end of humanity. He was a man who abhorred the wars and atrocities committed in the name of one deity or another, and despite being in the military, he wanted a peaceful life and hoped that a world in the twenty first century, and post infection, would provide that. He fervently hoped the survivors and their offspring would put their faith in each other, live in peaceful harmony, striving together to create a more logical, cleaner and better world than the one that had been destroyed and in doing so, consign all gods to the dustbin of history alongside the notion that the Earth is flat and the centre of the Universe.

  “Sir!” said Corporal Jenkins rousing Major Brown from his thoughts “You with us Boss?” “Yes sorry, I was miles away.” replied Brown “We are coming in to land at the FOB.” (Forward Operating Base) said the Corporal. “Right,” shouted Brown over the din of the helicopter, “as soon we are on the ground I want a meeting with all the men, for orders, just leave whoever is on guard where they are, I’ll talk to them later. We are moving to a new FOB tomorrow.” “Yes Boss, I’ll get the men together.” acknowledged Corporal Jenkins.

  It took a full day to establish themselves in the new FOB, so Major Brown did not want to waste any more time having to return to Porton Down to pick up supplies, so the next day he took sixteen men in the two choppers to a supermarket that he had seen while they had been looking for a location of the new FOB. The car park was full of Infected, so the choppers dropped two eight-man teams onto the roof of the supermarket, these teams then cleared the compound at the rear of the building and closed the gates allowing the helicopters to land. As the noise of the engines faded away and the rotor blades slowed to a stop an excited Corporal Jenkins ran up to the Major and said “Boss, you had better come and look at this!”

  The bodies of the Infected had been piled up against the perimeter wall, the smell was almost unbearable, but still Corporal Jenkins was still smiling. “What am I looking at?” asked Brown grimacing at the sight and smell. Jenkins pointed to a decapitated body, the missing head presumably buried under the heaped corpses. This was as good as a calling card; Stone Colds trail was no longer cold!

  Time to Clean House

  John Smith and his crew of convicts returned to their lair, an Army base whose primary role had been record keeping. The base had almost been completely overrun by the infection, there had been a few survivors at the camp, these people, a few unarmed soldiers and civilian staff had barricaded themselves in the administration building. The soldiers were not frontline troops, they were rear echelon clerks and stood no chance against the brutality of Smith and his Convicts.

  Smith allowed four of the camps personnel to live, two good looking women that were kept around to be used as “Playthings” by Smith and his men, they would be added to the growing “harem” that the Cons had acquired. The two surviving men were kept alive just long enough for Smith and his crew to enact a mock trial, the verdict was never in question, and the sentence ‘Death by hanging’. The two confused and petrified men were strung up from lamp posts, it took them an agonising time to die, much to the amusement of the real villains. The women were forced to watch their colleagues being murdered, a fate that they were told awaited them if they were not totally compliant or if they attempted to escape.

  The brutality of Smith & Co. had escalated since their escape, at first, they had just beaten anyone they came across and of course stolen anything they wanted, but with each incident the beating had become harder and soon the victims were being beaten to death just for the fun of it
. Any attractive women that were found were taken alive, others that were not so appealing were simply killed. Smith did not even notice how quickly he and is men thrown off the shackles of civilised behaviour and regressed to a sub-human mentality. This was a new world and Smith thought he was the master, that he could do whatever he wanted without consequence, if he had the strongest group they could reign supreme, easily subduing any others that they came in to contact with. He had assumed that right up to the point that the Army helicopter had landed, and he and his men had to submit to questioning by that jumped up prick of a public-school boy. This contact with the Army had made Smith realise that there was still an authority out there, he was not the strongest kid on the block, and worse still he may have to answer for his crimes. It was time to clean house and cover his tracks!

  Cleaning house meant cutting the decaying bodies down from the lamp posts and more importantly disposing of the women. The bitches were now a liability and would have to go, “Dead men tell no tales” and this was equally true of women!

  John Smith was by no means an intelligent man, but he was far from being a fool, he himself would miss the readily accessible charms of the women and knew that his men would too. It would be a hard sell persuading his men to get rid of the women, the blow could be softened by having a final go on the bitches a “last fling” as it were. However, these were men who had spent time behind bars where conjugal rights were not forthcoming, so encouraging them to forgo a shag on tap was not going to be easy. Smith would have to think of something to make getting rid of the women fun and acceptable to the others, and the seed of an idea was already starting to formulate in his twisted brain.

  There were six women, all but one broken and totally compliant to the wishes of Smith and his men. That one girl was Janet Parker, she fought tooth and nail every time Smith or one of the others tried to rape her, they had given up with her and just indulged in one of the other women, but Smith enjoyed the challenge and would not take “No!” for answer. Using his sheer weight and strength to subdue her, he beat her into submission time and again, he particularly enjoyed the beating as it just added to his fun!

  The final “party” with the girls took two long days and Janet was battered and bruised but still defiant by the end of it. The women were left alone for a whole night but then at daybreak they were led out of the building where there were being held, forced to strip naked and told to get into the back of a van. An uncomfortable journey along twisting roads followed, causing some of them to throw up due to motion sickness, but eventually the van stopped, and the women could hear a door open, then slam shut. The rear door of the van was opened but none of the men came into view and no instructions were given, so they just sat there, wondering what would happen next. A little time passed by and one of them hesitantly stepped out of the van and stood there blinking in the sunlight. Janet watched and heard her say “They have gone.” But before she could say anything else she was snatched away from sight as an Infected pounced. Seeing this the women started to scream, attracting more Infected towards the van. Janet knew it was too late to get the other women to be quiet as the damage was done, the Infected would be on their way, she also knew that it would be pointless to run. The situation was hopeless, but she wanted to live, she needed to live because she now had a mission to fulfil, one that would drive her to extreme measures to survive. She would kill John Smith, she wanted to watch him die, and he had to die slowly and painfully!

  Janet shouted “Out, out, out!” then made for the door, the other women instinctively followed and kept going even when Janet stopped, turned and pointed to some random object in the distance saying “Run, go, go, go!”

  As the last of the women left the van Janet dropped to the ground and crawled under the vehicle, then watched with an attitude of resigned inevitability as the Infected tore the other women apart.

  However not all died immediately, Mel Parker, one of the younger quicker ones, managed to make a run for it but still got bitten. Janet watch her turn from a graceful young woman to infected beast within thirty seconds, followed by the sound of rough laughter, from John Smith and his cons, watching the show from the safety of a barn roof.

  The display had been a stunning success, all his men had enjoyed the show and they had got rid of a major liability as the same time. There had been one worrying moment when he thought one of the bitches was going to get away, but he was both amused and relieved when he saw her stop running, then collapse to the ground shaking like an idiot, then stand again transformed in to one of the “Snappers”. He liked the fact that he had “taken” this young woman against her will on many occasions, the fact that he was responsible for destroying her and condemning her to walk the earth as one of those mindless things aroused him almost to the point that he wished he had kept one of the bitches alive to repeat the process! But it was just too risky to keep those women around, however he consoled himself with the fact that there would be others, he and his men just had to find them! There were too many of the Snappers around to risk retrieving the van, but Smith had the keys, so they would leave it and return later when things had settled down and the Snappers had moved on. They left the roof, descended to the rear of the barn, and without further a backward glance, quickly got in to their pickup trucks and drove away.

  Janet gave herself little chance of surviving, thinking “No better than five percent”, but five percent was better that zero percent, so she would take it. She resigned herself to a long wait hiding under the van but then heard the pickup engines, so did the Infected and they ran towards the sound. Janet was loth to leave the perceived safety of her hide under the van, but knew she had to move, and quickly, to take advantage of the distraction caused by the departing pickup trucks. Crawling out from under the van she took stock of her surroundings for the first time and saw she was in a farm yard facing towards a house, behind her there was a barn with a track leading towards a road in the distance. The Infected were continuing their pursuit of the pickup trucks along the track, naked and barefoot, Janet hobbled toward the house and fervently hoped that she would not be noticed and that the building would be free of infection. The door was closed, but not locked. Opening it and going inside she found two bodies on the kitchen floor, presumably the farmer and his wife, both had been shot. Janet was quite sure who was responsible, more victims of “Mr. John Smith and Co!” she said out loud. Taking stock of her situation, she mentally itemised her immediate needs, clothes, food and water, but first she needed to secure the door and find a weapon.

  The door opened inwards, so Janet wedged a chair under the handle “That will have to do for now.” She said, out loud again, then realised she was talking to herself but dismissed it “Whatever it takes to get through this!” she said.

  The kitchen had been ransacked and all the cupboards bare, any food that remained was long past the edible stage, but there was an old-fashioned hand pump which, when operated, dispensed sweet clean water.

  Janet found a kitchen knife and kept it close to hand as she worked the handle of the water pump and filled a mug of water, drinking quickly to assuage a day-old thirst. She then carefully explored the rest of the house and from the bedroom wardrobe helped herself to some clothes, choosing some of a practical nature, and dressed quickly. Having put some spare and warmer clothes in a bag to take with her, she found some walking boots near to the kitchen door which fitted quite well once she donned a second pair of socks. Dressed and wearing some decent footwear, Janet started to feel more secure, more in control of her situation but she was a practical woman, and knew she was still in a very precarious predicament. A gun was needed, and she reasoned that, as this was a working farm, then there would be a shotgun somewhere in the house. A search of all the obvious places yielded nothing other than the belief that if there had been one it had already been taken, but the search was not totally fruitless as she had found a first aid kit which went into her newly acquired bag. The search had not uncovered any food either, she was
very hungry and tired, the bed upstairs was extremely tempting but she knew that she should get as far away from the farm as possible lest John Smith and his friends return. Resolved to leave, she reasoned the kitchen knife would be totally inadequate in the event of an altercation with an Infected, she would need something to deal with them at something more than arm’s length. Having filled up some water bottles and put them in her bag, she was ready to leave the house and peered through the window and across the yard towards the barn. There was no sign of Infected, so she removed the chair, eased the door open quietly, still checking for movement then walked briskly but quietly to the barn and entered through a small door. Stopping just inside the door to allow her eyes to adjust to the gloom of the barn, all the time fearing the rush of an Infected, but no attack came so after a minute she gathered her resolve and moved further into the barn until she found what she was looking for.

  She emerged back into the daylight grasping a long handled, straight bladed scythe, if not ready to take on the world, she would at least have a fighting chance if she came across an Infected on its own. She walked from the farm keeping away from the roads, not knowing where she was going, but she did know that she would have to eat soon, or she would not get very far.

  She had only been walking for about an hour when she heard an Infected rapidly approaching from behind, not daring to look around, she just wanted the threat to go away, it was a forlorn hope. She knew that was just the same as burying her head in the sand, or hiding under the bedcovers like a little girl, “Time to grow up, face reality and deal with this.” she said out loud, had a quick look over her shoulder and was relieved to see only one Infected in pursuit. Janet stepped to the side in a gap in the hedge that she had been following, dropped her bag to the ground and held the scythe like a baseball and waited. “Don’t hesitate!” she whispered to herself, then all thought was gone as she instinctively swung the scythe down and with all her remaining strength.