Boss caught his reflection in the glass. His hair was sticking out at weird angles. His brown eyes stared back at him, blinking rapidly. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Rubbing his hand over his head, he tried to smooth down his wild hair. A plan formed in his mind. He looked down at George. “We’re going to go to those caves, to the lake you found. Okay, buddy?”
George nodded back at him.
Boss reached down, grasping his shoulder. “Jack and Dee will come for us, G-man.” Boss said this more to himself than George. In truth, he doubted that, even if the Renegades had been alerted, they would get here in time. They were over 100 km north. Boss clenched his fists. No. He had to keep George safe. Haere had given them a chance. He needed to honour that and get George out of this war zone. He picked up the machete and slipped it into his belt. Touching the cool, rusty metal gave him some comfort. It had saved Jack in the meat locker, perhaps it would save him now. Grinning at the thought of Jack wielding the machete, he turned towards the door.
A screech blared out, and a couple more answered, closer. Boss quickened his pace. Glancing back to George, he threw open the door and stepped out onto the deck. Three Variants bounded up the path, shrieking. The high-pitched sound jangled his nerves. Boss unslung his rifle and sighted the lead Variant, trying to get a bead. It zigged and zagged, leaping all over the place. Ugly, but not dumb. He took a punt at where it would go next, and squeezed the trigger. Watching over the sight, he saw the bullet enter its sucker mouth. Gunk flew out behind it as it crumpled into a ball of flesh and bones. Dead. He spun to his left, letting off a couple of bursts like Ben had showed him. He aimed for the centre mass and took down another one. The third Variant screeched and leapt up onto the roof of the covered verandah, its claws scraping the corrugated iron. The metal moaned as the Variant dug its claws in, the sound reminding Boss of a ship rubbing against the poles of the jetty. Boss desperately watched as it walked across, making dents in the thin metal. With a hideous howl, the Variant bounded off the roof, hooking its claws into the gutter and swinging over the edge of the verandah, flinging itself at Boss. Its legs slammed into him, launching Boss off his feet and smashing him against the cladding. The sharp weatherboard edges dug into his back.
The breath wheezed out of his bruised chest, and sparks of yellow light danced in his vision. The Variant straddled him, its powerful legs pinning him down. Claws dug into his remaining leg, while others grasped his shoulders. George screamed at it. It turned his head and shrieked at George. Boss used the distraction to pull the machete free and swing it, yelling out in frustration. He drove the sharpened edge deep into the Variant’s neck. It shrieked and reached up to grab the embedded blade, and yanked it free. It leant back, howling, holding its claws to the gushing wound, trying to stem the flow of black blood pouring out. Boss scrambled free and stood up. He pulled his Glock from his holster and looked into its eyes. The reptilian slits stared back at him, its nictitating membrane flicking. He raised the gun and pointed it at the Variant’s head. The creature that was once a human reached up and grasped his leg. Recognition grazed across its eyes. Boss felt a fleeting moment of sorrow for the monster as he squeezed the trigger, ending its nightmare. Without looking back, he grabbed George and pushed the boy ahead. They hopped off the deck and scrambled up the bank, heading into the bush. Branches scratched his exposed arms.
Boss turned back and looked down into the once-idyllic bay. Flashes from muzzle fire sparked out like a fireworks display gone wrong. The luxury yacht tied up at the jetty was still burning, thick white smoke billowed out. The huge flames licking the wooden jetty, threatening to consume it. His eyes darted left and right, catching glimpses of fighting all over the bay. Soldiers ran, turning and firing. Variants bounded and chased after them, tearing apart those fleeing. The bulk of the Variant infestation had crowded around the old hotel and the bunker behind. Sgt. Haere had rallied the troops to protect those inside. A steady stream of monsters threw themselves at the thousands of bullets spewing into them. Boss shook his head, the sounds of the battle rattling around in his mind. So much death, so many lives ended. The Variants would kill them all until no one was left. Until humanity was but mementoes etched in stone.
He shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself up the clay bank, ducking under the manuka trees. He breathed in deep, savouring the oily scent. George was scrambling through the leaf litter up ahead, making little pebbles and rocks bounce off Boss as he followed. The pain in his stump was becoming unbearable. He had some painkillers in his pack that he was desperate to take, but the ever-closer screeches forced him to push the pain aside. Pausing, he pulled on the leather straps, tightening the prosthetic. Howls and screeches followed them, getting closer. They reached a clearing and Boss glanced around, searching for the white crushed-shell paths that ringed the island. Screeches from the horrors that chased them sounded out, and he cringed. Making a choice, he pushed George up the bank, farther up the hill.
“Keep going, G-man. Higher,” he whispered.
George pulled himself up the slope, his little hands grabbing onto whatever roots he could find. Up they climbed, away from the terrifying noises of the battle below, away from the sights of limbs being torn off, of intestines sloshing onto the ground. Away from the Variants sinking their sucker mouths onto flesh, tearing off chunks of muscle. Boss hated to run; he felt like he was betraying all those fighting down in the bay. But he and George ran away to save themselves.
The lactic acid burned in his tired leg, making it feel like jelly. They finally reached the path he was searching for. Gasping in some deep breaths, Boss could see the steep, jutting rocks of the volcano peeking through the Olearia trees a few metres down the path.
George reached back and, grabbing his hand, pulled him. “This way, Boss.”
A crashing sound behind them rang out. Boss pivoted, his rifle raised, searching for a target. A figure crashed out of the undergrowth and skidded on the shell path, followed by a blur of black and white. Max, Boss realised.
Boss slid his finger off the trigger guard, ready to put a bullet into the figure. His eyes went wide as he saw blonde hair. He reached down and yanked her to her feet. “I nearly shot you, Beth. Bloody hell!”
Beth dusted some of the white shells off her pants and top. “Sorry. We need to go. They’re not far behind me.”
Boss handed her his rifle. “Okay. Here, take this.”
Beth reached out and clasped it. “Thanks, what about you?”
Boss grinned at her and reached behind, extracting his shotgun. “Say hello to my boomstick.”
She smiled at him.
Boss sighed inwardly. He would find a girl he liked in the apocalypse. He looked over to George, who was hugging Max. Boss reached over and rubbed the dog’s head. “Aye Boy.” Seeing the dog calmed him somewhat. Then Max’s snarled, teeth bared. Boss frowned and turned.
Beth’s eyes went wide. She grabbed his arm, yanking him away. “Go! They’re coming!”
Screeches and howls followed Beth’s warning.
Boss cursed. He was tired, stressed, and angry. He could feel the fury building down in his gut. Angry at those that had caused this nightmare, angry at the collaborators helping the new apex predators. But most of all, angry at himself for not being able to do more. Losing his lower left leg had scarred him mentally just as much as physically, maybe more so. He felt useless, not whole. A piece of him was missing physically, and a piece was missing on the inside. Without Dee here to help centre him, he struggled. She had a way of calming him. Jack had told him it was Dee’s greatest latent quality: she could calm you with a smile, assure you with a simple touch or look. He’d said that some people have that gift, as though a calming aura emanated from them. Boss smiled to himself. He looked up ahead, to Beth and George running. He was going to get them to safety, or die trying.
A screech jolted him back to reality. He stopped. Spinning on his good leg, he searched for the source. A couple more screeches sounded out,
this time from above. Boss glanced up. Several pairs of reptilian eyes flashed back as figures scrambled down the rocky face of the volcano. Beth was a little ahead of them by a few metres.
“Run, Beth!”
She glanced up and saw the creatures. Two of the Variants leapt down in front of her. She raised the rifle and fired a couple of shots, hitting each of the beasts in the torso. They dropped to all fours and let out horrifying screeches. Beth turned, horror plastered on her face. Her lips trembled as she looked first back at Boss, then out to sea. Boss watched, stunned, as she took a few steps back and then sprinted off the cliff, her body vanishing from view.
“NO! Beth!”
He stared at the point where Beth had vanished. A swirl of conflicting emotions flashed through his mind. Why had she done that?
George yelled something at him, but all the noise around him became a blur. His emotions were threatening to overtake him, rendering him useless. Boss screamed out in frustration. He squeezed the trigger and pumped the shotgun again and again, unloading into the gathering knot of Variants. He hit a few, dropping them.
George grabbed his leg, getting his attention. He pointed up a path to the right. Boss could see the cave entrance. He took in a deep breath, letting it out between gritted teeth. Shoving George ahead, he whistled for Max. Max growled and barked at the beasts. He whistled again. Max obeyed, and they sprinted for the cave, the howls of the man-hunting monsters chasing them. As they reached the entrance, Boss pulled the red-handled machete from his belt and jammed the blade into the clay bank adjacent to the cave. On they ran, fleeing into the darkening maw.
TWELVE
Jack ran down the wide, muddy track. Once, this track had been a mining road, back in the days when men shifted tonnes of earth and rock to get a few precious ounces of gold. He looked out at the vista. The sun was beginning its climb up from the horizon, spreading its life-giving glow to the world. Jack snorted. A very nearly dead world.
The valley cut through the landscape, intersected by the river gorge. He scanned the tree line ahead, searching for the dull metal of the zip-line tower. The steady thump of boots behind him comforted him, knowing the other Renegades shared his fears. He still thought it was crazy they had been ordered to collect this scientist. Out of all of them, Ben was the only real soldier. The Joneses were privates barely out of boot camp. Dee and himself were still learning. Hoping to help. Now here he was, running from these eternally hungry beasts.
Thinking of Dee, Jack glanced back and looked into her eyes, smiling. She was covered in sweat from their flight through the underground lab. She smiled back before scanning around, searching the trees for the beasts. The howls of the Variants were getting closer as Jack leapt over a creek, its muddy water gushing over the track and down into the valley. A flicker of light alerted him to the metal tower he was searching for. Jack ran the last few metres and looked up, spying the woven steel cables stretching across the bush-choked ravine. A ladder clung to the tower, and five metres above the ground sat a small platform. Hooked up, attached to the tower, were two metal cradles, similar to those rescue choppers use to ferry injured people off cliff faces.
Jack spun around. Raising his rifle, he covered the other Renegades as they jogged up to his position. He caught the pungent smell of sweat mixed with the peaty smells of the forest. It didn’t matter who you were, the fear was the same.
Ben called out to them as he made up the last few metres. “Dee, take the Doc across to the first platform and keep going. Eric, you pull the cradles back and then go with Tony. Jack and I will follow last.”
Jack nodded, and turned to help Dee and Katherine up the first few steps. He gave Dee a squeeze on the arm as she climbed past him. Screeches rang out, and Dee bounded up the ladder, pushing Katherine out ahead. Jack pivoted around, scanning the track and bush, his eyes glancing left and right, waiting to catch sight of those eyes. Eyes that haunted him. Eyes that meant death and loss. He kept his finger on the trigger guard, waiting. He heard the whirring of the zip-line, and risked a look to see Dee racing across with Katherine.
“Multiple targets!” yelled Tony.
Jack looked down the track, searching for a target. A dozen Variants were sprinting up the muddy old road, water, leaves, and soil flicking out behind them in an arc like a motorboat speeding through the water. Jack flicked off his safety and aimed for the centre mass of the nearest charging hound of hell. He hit it in the shoulder, sending it sprawling face-first in the mud. A few Variants behind tripped over it. Jack would’ve laughed at the sight if it wasn’t for the charging pack behind. He went into battle mode, aiming, firing. Just trying to take them down. His ears were ringing at the close proximity of the other Renegades’ gunshots. A couple of the Variants broke away from the pack, sprinting around the sides to flank them.
Jack yelled out a warning. “Flanking! Take them down!”
Eric spun to his side and tried to get a fix, but the Variant was too quick. With a terrifying howl, it leapt the last couple of metres, smashing into Eric. He managed to get his rifle up to protect his neck. Tony screamed and shot it in the chest. The Variant swatted at the bullet as if a wasp was stinging it. Tony ran forward. Pulling out his knife, he stabbed it in the head. The knife stuck fast. The Variant reached up and swatted Tony aside.
Eric used the distraction and kicked the beast off him.
Jack watched horrified as the Variant thudded down next to Tony, who was scrambling up. The Variant grabbed his arm, latched his sucker onto Tony’s bicep, and tore off part of the muscle. Tony screamed in agony and desperately tried to pull away, but the Variant held fast and pulled him closer.
Jack put the last charging Variant down.
“Ben!” he yelled in desperation before turning, trying to get a clear shot.
Ben took a few steps and pivoted on his left foot, raised up his leg and, with a roundhouse kick, smashed the knife deeper into the Variant’s brain, killing it.
A multitude of howls and screeches echoed around the trees.
Ben reached down and yanked Tony to his feet. “On your feet, soldier. We have to go.” He glanced at Eric. “Help your mate. C’mon. Go!”
Eric pulled off his buff from around his neck and wrapped it around Tony’s torn arm. Together, they climbed up the tower and pulled the cradles back across.
The sounds of branches snapping and rocks dislodging reached Jack and Ben. Dozens of Variants were tearing up the track from both directions. Jack glanced up. Eric and Tony were halfway across. Jack looked up at Ben. “I don’t think we have time.”
Ben met his eyes. He gave him a curt nod and clicked in a fresh magazine. “Probably not, Jack. Let’s kill as many of them as possible, though.” His eyes were full of sorrow.
Jack looked back at the advancing horde of death as his radio squawked. “Jack, what are you doing! Run!”
Tears welled up in his eyes. Jack could barely get out what he had to say next. “I’m sorry Dee, I love you. You saved me. I’ll never forget that.”
“Jack! No! There is always a way out. You told me that. Think!”
He sniffed and looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman who had saved his life, showed him how to live. He saw her standing on the tower on the opposite side of the valley. The sun was hovering over the horizon, bathing the valley in light. Her hair shone. Jack smiled. He turned, looking at the bush around him. Photographing the memory of Dee and the native forest. If he was going to die, he wanted to remember his two favourite things in life. The sun coming up over the steep hills reminded Jack of Gandalf’s return in the Two Towers. He looked over at Ben, his rifle raised up as he fired at the fast-approaching beasts. Jack saw the nikau palms surrounding him, their frond casings scattered around the trunk. Wait a minute! The frond casings!
Jack whacked Ben on the shoulder and sprinted over to the fronds. “Ben! C’mon!”
He grabbed a frond and flung it out in front of him, over the bank. With a thud, he landed on top of it and skidde
d down the muddy bank, riding it like some sort of sled. A crash and a grunt to his left, followed by a curse, alerted him to Ben crashing through the undergrowth. The pair bounced and slid faster down the banks of the valley. Jack grabbed the sides of his makeshift sled, trying his best to steer it around trees, his shoulders glancing off a few. Jack flew out off a small bank and splashed down into the creek at the bottom.
Ben sailed through the air. Missing the creek, he thudded into the clay bank, spraying up mud and coating a nearby tree. The frustrated howls and shrieks of the Variants chasing them frayed Jack’s already-shot nerves. Bloody things never give up. Jack clicked his talk button on the radio.
“Dee, guys, cover us. We’re nearly at the tower.”
Hiss and static belched out over his radio. Jack gave it a whack. “Oh thank goodness, Jack. You’re going to have to run for the river. There’s too many of them. They’re climbing over the zip-lines.”
Jack had reached Ben, and was helping the old SAS soldier to his feet. Ben clicked his own radio. “Dee, take the Doc and go. Get to the LZ. Eric, set some charges and blow those fucking things to kingdom come. We’ll catch up. Dee, it’s vital you get the Doctor to safety.”
There was a slight pause before Jack heard the response. “Copy that. Affirmative. Hurry, guys.”
Ben looked up at Jack. “All right, Legolas. Lead us out of here.”
Jack grinned as he took off at a run down the creek, jumping over moss-covered rocks and splashing through the brackish water. His movie obsession had saved him again. He loved that.
Extinction NZ (Book 2): The Fourth Phase Page 9