SAFE HAVEN: REALM OF THE RAIDERS

by Christopher Artinian

  “The mission is proceeding as planned,” Hughes said distantly as he looked down at the map and gently traced his finger over the east ridge.

  *

  Mike unzipped the black body bag revealing the dead farmer’s wife. Jenny put a hand up to her mouth and gagged. Emma was more than used to the sight of these hideous creatures now, so she just flipped on her latex gloves, face mask and goggles and drew a tray of hollow point bullets towards her. Her brother put on a pair of gloves as well and was about to reach into the body bag when Lucy stopped him.

  “Don’t even think about it, buddy boy,” she said, handing him some goggles and a face mask. He obediently put them on.

  “There’s not going to be a nice way of doing this, so here goes.” Mike knelt down and pulled Alice’s top up. He grabbed hold of one of her wide love handles and hacked through it with the blade. He stood up and flopped it down on the PVC-sheeted desk like he was a butcher throwing a piece of liver on the scales for weighing. This time Jenny did more than gag. She picked up the grey metal waste bin and lost her entire breakfast in one loud heave.

  Lucy stepped forward and picked up the bloody piece of grey flesh. As requested, Emma had set up a food blender in one corner of the room. The doctor walked across and placed the deadly slab of meat in. She withdrew a large blood-filled syringe from her pocket and pressed down the plunger to release the dark red liquid into the blending jug.

  “What’s that?” Jenny asked, looking up from the bin.

  “I’ve just taken some of my blood. The RAMs’ blood doesn’t flow too well at the best of times and within about half an hour of death it congeals completely. Throwing some fresh blood into the mixture will make it easier for us to use.” The doctor pulled her face mask up and her goggles down then hit the blend button. The mixture sloshed and spat around the insides of the jug causing Jenny to retch once again. When the doctor was satisfied with the consistency of the mixture, she switched off the blender, removed two empty syringes from her pocket and filled them with the gooey dark-red fluid. Then she placed them into a polystyrene meat tray and carried them over to the desk to give to Emma.

  Emma’s cheeks pulsed with the urge to vomit, but she closed her eyes tightly and tried to forget what it was she was being asked to do. Jenny finished retching, put the bin down and walked across to the cabinet where she had retrieved the candles earlier. She reached into the back and brought out a bottle of single malt scotch and two glasses.

  “I’ll be buggered if I’m going to do this sober,” she said as she poured a glass for her and Emma. Jenny took a swig, wiped her mouth, put on her latex gloves, and then took a syringe from the tray.

  Emma filled the hollow point bullets three-quarters full with the infected blood. She completed her first row of six, then delicately took one of the candles and let three drops of wax fill the rest of the tip, sealing the deadly fluid safely within until the time came for it to enter its target. Eighteen months ago, she would have been authoring a column on a soap star or some reality TV flash in the pan. Now she was preparing biological weapons to halt an army of marauders. It was funny how times changed.

  Jenny took another drink from her glass, and as the fast-acting fluid began to warm her blood, she sat down and focussed on the gory job at hand. Mike and Lucy left the pair to their task. It was unpleasant and harrowing enough without having an audience as well.

  “What now?” Lucy asked as they left the small back office.

  “I need to find Bruiser, he seems to know what he’s doing. You should probably get back to your patients, Doc.”

  “How about you just call me Lucy now? After last night, Doc seems a little formal. Don’t you think?”

  “Fair point,” he said, smiling.

  “Samantha can handle whatever is going on through those doors. Right now, I think I’ll be more use with a gun than with a stethoscope. Come on, we’ll go find him together.” The pair walked through the large foyer and into the dining room. Again the villagers shuddered with fear as the doors opened. Lucy and Mike walked over to where Keith and Hughes were standing.

  “The bullets are coming off the production line as we speak,” Mike said as the pair reached the operations table.

  “Good work. Right, I’m going to take half of them to the north bridge. I want you to take the other half to the south bridge. There’s a lad down there, Barney, best fucking sniper I’ve ever seen. All he knows is that you’re going down there with some instructions. Just give him the bullets and fill him in on the rest. I’d send Marsh, but that stupid bastard couldn’t tell a fish how to swim, never mind lay out a battle plan. After that, I’m going to take some more men and head to the east ridge. That’s where we’re going to have to face off with these fuckers. I’d like to take one of the Jackals but they’re too useful on the bridges. If you’d care to join me up there it would be appreciated.” Hughes was not normally keen on the idea of including civilians in military missions, but Mike and Lucy had seen more fighting in the last few days than most people saw in a lifetime.

  “We’ll be there,” said Lucy as the pair headed back out.

  *

  By the time Mike and Lucy pulled up behind the turrets of the south bridge, guns had begun to rattle once again with regularity. They noticed the covered body of a service man as they ducked into the well-fortified turret to the left of the bridge. They could hear the heavy thuds as bullets pierced the outside sandbags but came to a sudden stop when they reached the heavy breeze-block and cement reinforced wall.

  “Is one of you called Barney?” Mike asked the three men taking cover in the sturdy fortification.

  “I’m Private Barnes,” one of them replied. He looked just a little older than Mike and he held a large sniper rifle rather than the standard issue SA80.

  “Private Hughes sent us. These are for you. They’re tipped with RAMs’ blood. When you take your shot, don’t make it fatal. We want the wounded to turn.” Mike spoke with a coldness that sent a small chill down Lucy’s spine.

  “Where’s Corporal Masters?” the young soldier asked.

  Mike looked around at the faces. Private Hughes was probably the oldest of the soldiers left, but he was only in his early thirties. “Corporal Masters is dead. Private Hughes has got a plan in motion, though, and it gives us a fighting chance, but I won’t lie, a lot of it hinges on you. Some of their army has landed but we’re heading up to meet a squad of your guys now, so hopefully we can fight them off. If you can turn enough of these fuckers down here, we’ll gain the upper hand.” As Mike spoke he could see confidence returning to the young men’s faces.

  “Where did you get the RAMs’ blood from?” asked Private Barnes, lifting the lid on the wax-tipped hollow points.

  Mike flashed back to the moment when he had sliced a large piece of flesh off Alice. “Trust me, there are some things you don’t want in your head, and the answer to that question is one of them.”

  Barnes nodded. On the battlefield he had seen comrades do things that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. He saw the same look in Mike’s eyes and knew not to press any further. The private loaded a bullet into the chamber, took aim at the lower leg of an enemy soldier only partially obscured by a tree, and fired. He turned and placed another round in the chamber and shot again. This time the bullet pierced the buttock of a soldier who was crouched behind the wheel of a 4x4. The shots from across the river continued to thud against the outside of the turrets in vain. The raiders to the south of the river had no mortars or heavy artillery so were depending on sheer wealth of numbers to overpower Candleton’s troops. The Jackal had moved behind the well-built fortification as it was too much of a sitting target out in the open, but the very fact the enemy knew it was present stopped them from trying to rush over the debris on the blockaded bridge.

  Lucy turned to leave and Mike was about to follow but then turned back. “Remember, these aren’t real soldiers, they’re low-life scum who rape and pillage. They’d turn on each other in a s
econd if there was something in it for them. You’re the British Army, the best trained fighters in the world. You’ve fought for your country. You’ve saved the lives of innocent Afghans and innocent Brits. If there were ten thousand of them out there, they wouldn’t be worth one of you. Good luck, lads.” Mike got appreciative nods from the three soldiers and then heard several volleys of fire as he and Lucy climbed back into the ambulance. He looked across to Lucy who was smirking. “What?” he asked.

  “You’re a natural leader, Mike. A million different men could say what you said in there and it would sound like cheap propaganda bullshit, but you say it and people believe. Hell, even I think we can win now.”

  Mike smiled as he turned the key in the ignition. “We can only go about half a mile towards the ridge and then the rest of it is on foot.” More gunfire sounded to the south and the mortar fire from the north increased in volume as the targets moved further towards the centre of the village.

  They drove for less than a minute and then Mike pulled up. There was an incline covered by bracken and trees. Beyond that was a wooded area and beyond that was the east ridge. Mike picked up his rucksack from the footwell and loaded his shotgun. Lucy took her shotgun and did the same, then checked to make sure she still had a spare clip for the Glock. She looked towards the dark, fearsome woods and then back to Mike.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, gently brushing a matted lock of hair from her forehead with his thumb.

  “You don’t know what’s waiting for us up there. Neither of us do.”

  “Yes I do, Lucy. It’s the same thing that’s been waiting for us everywhere. It’s the same thing that’s been following me around for years. Whether it’s men, beasts, a virus or a cancer, they’ve all tried to take away the people I love. I’ve lost enough. I’ve lost too many people I care about and I’m not prepared to lose any more. I’ll do whatever it takes.” He looked across and smiled.

  “What the hell, let’s do this.” She dragged him across towards her, kissed him roughly on the mouth then jumped out of the ambulance. Mike climbed out of the other door and the pair of them headed towards the ridge.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Barnes was just about to take another shot when his target vanished from his scope. He panned around until his enemy came into view again, but now there was no need to take a shot. Blood was already pumping from the raider’s throat wound and a RAM wearing almost identical clothing was crouched over him with fresh blood dripping from its mouth. The young private pulled his head back from the scope and ducked down below the peep hole. He crouched there, breathing heavily, trying to remember if he was one of the good guys or the bad guys, because that creature with the blood dripping from its mouth – the one that had just ripped into the flesh of its comrade – that creature had been created by him.

  *

  The sedative, coupled with the large glass of brandy that was now in her hand, had slowly worked its way into the young woman’s system and she had become a little more responsive. After cleaning her up and giving her fresh clothes and a little food, Emma and Jenny had managed to ascertain her name, where she was from and how she had ended up there.

  “So, Julie, how long were you held by them?” asked Jenny, placing a blanket over the girl’s lower legs.

  “Nearly a week in total. This battalion brought me and a few other girls when they headed down here a couple of days ago.”

  Emma and Jenny looked puzzled by Julie’s statement. “What do you mean, sweetheart? What do you mean by this battalion?” Jenny looked towards Julie with confusion on her face.

  “This isn’t the whole army,” Julie replied. “The whole army is ten times this size. These are just the men they sent down to get your supplies.” She spoke to Jenny as if she was stating the obvious. The two women had been leaning forward in their chairs, hanging on every word she said. Now the muscles in their backs turned to jelly and they fell onto the back rests for support.

  Deflated, Emma dropped her head. “Who are these people?”

  “The man who calls himself ‘The Don’ was one of the biggest crime lords in the country before the infection began. When everything collapsed, he already had hundreds of conscripts in his back pocket. He was running huge black-market operations in the North East. The conscripts were getting hold of guns, ammunition, army rations, anything you could think of. He’s boasting that he’s the most powerful man in the country now, and he’s got plenty of people who believe him and are willing to follow him. He keeps his men fed and as safe as anybody can be. When they sweep through towns and villages, they take whatever they want, including women and children. He’s a monster. The man who leads this battalion, his name is Fry. He’s one of the most horrific sadists you could imagine.” The girl lay back down on the bed as the sound of mortar shells and gunfire crept closer and closer.

  *

  “Okay, sweetheart. Now, like we practised, I’m going to need you to push. So, when I say, push, and push hard.” Samantha watched the mother-to-be desperately try to regulate her breathing while her white knuckles gripped a rolled-up blanket.

  “Okay, now push!” Samantha ordered.

  The woman screamed through gritted teeth, and her face contorted into something resembling a roaring Incredible Hulk.

  “I can see a head, I can see a head!” Samantha had forgotten how exciting it was to help bring new life into the world, and for the time being, nothing outside that room mattered.

  *

  Keith Martin was still writing down everything that came in through the walkie-talkie. He had turned the volume down as the details of the battle had become more disturbing, and now each time the handset snapped to life he would hold it up to his ear to jot down the incoming message.

  “This is North Bridge. All hollow points have been fired. We are no longer under fire ourselves. Some vehicles are beginning to retreat. I can see upwards of thirty RAMs. We’re holding our positions and awaiting further orders, over.”

  “This is South Bridge. We’ve also used up all our hollow point ammo. There is still occasional incoming fire, but we’re seeing an awful lot of RAMs on the other side of the river. Had to put a few down that tried to make it across the bridge. We’re also awaiting further orders, over.”

  That was good news. No, that was great news. The enemy was on the run. They were being beaten by their own men. Keith looked around the dining room for someone to share the news with, but he saw only scared faces. Some were young, some were old, and some were just cowards wanting others to do the fighting for them. He kept listening to the radio for Private Hughes. Two teams were awaiting further orders and he was the man in charge, but the handset remained silent.

  *

  Mike and Lucy crouched down as they reached the edge of the wooded area. There was no sign of Hughes or any of the other troops. He signalled to Lucy to get on the ground and the pair crawled forward to get a view of the east ridge without giving away their position. He brought his head up slowly over some wild tufts of yellow grass. He was too late. The battle was already over. Mike ran towards the broken bodies lying on the ground. There were enemy soldiers as well as Candleton troops and some reservists. Lucy ran out after him and the pair searched around for any sign of life. A hand rose weakly into the air; it was Hughes. Mike ran across to him and placed his open palm under the bleeding man’s head for support. Lucy quickly and efficiently unbuttoned the private’s shirt and looked at the wound. She levered him up gently, but he let out a grunt of pain despite her care.

  “It’s gone straight through. It hasn’t hit anything major, but we’ve got to stop the bleeding. We need to get him to the ambulance now,” said Lucy, as she started lifting the private by one arm.

  “Wait... important.” Hughes was breathing heavily and finding it difficult to talk. He would probably lose consciousness by the time they got him to the ambulance, so he needed to speak to them now. “’Bout twenty got through. Got the radio. Heading to town. We sank the boats... no
more can come.”

  “I’ll get some soldiers from one of the bridges and we’ll head after them,” Mike said as he and Lucy got ready to lift.

  “North. North Bridge. Vehicles retreating. North Bridge,” he managed to say, his final instructions before passing out.

  Lucy and Mike levered the short, muscle-bound figure up off the floor and began to drag him back to the ambulance. The ground had been soaked by the relentless rain, making their job harder, but both had renewed vigour after hearing that the enemy vehicles had begun to retreat. The home-made bio-weapon had obviously worked quicker than anticipated. The threat was still very real though; there was a sizeable fighting force heading to the village.

  *

  The two mortar men loaded their final shell and managed to fire just before one of them got attacked by his best friend. It wasn’t his best friend any more though, and he saw it too late as the lifeless grey eyes locked with his. A split second of hesitation and the creature’s teeth bit down hard on a hairy mouthful of scalp. The mortar man screamed like he was on fire, but only for a few seconds. His scream soon turned to a low-pitched growl and his flesh turned ashen. Some of his former comrades fired on him as he weaved down through the trees, their bullets chipping bark. One hit him in the arm, but the RAM didn’t even notice.