The Secret Apocalypse: Box Set 2

by J. L. Harden

  “You’ve done this before?”

  “Well, not exactly like this.”

  We didn’t get a chance to discuss this dangerous plan any further. Just as I had finally loaded a full magazine, the infected broke through.

  Maria and I both unloaded with machine gun fire. The narrow doorway of the train kept them all bunched together. As a result, we were able to keep them pinned back. It was like shooting zombies in a barrel. It was as close to target practice as we were ever going to get.

  I’m not sure how many infected there were. A carriage full. Once again, there were probably more infected than we had bullets.

  The bottle-neck of the doorway bought us precious seconds.

  “Stick to the right hand side!” I shouted to Maria over the roar of the gunfire. “Cover me!”

  “What? Why!? What are you doing?”

  “Parachutes!”

  I moved further into the carriage, closer to the infected. As fate would have it, the para-troopers had been sitting at the rear of the carriage when they had been murdered. So unfortunately, I had to get closer to the doorway, closer to the infected than I would have liked. There was blood everywhere. Blood and bone and brain. The man in the gas mask had made double sure that none of these soldiers were alive. Or infected. And in the process he had made quite an unbelievable mess.

  “Over there!” Maria shouted from behind, as she covered me. “The soldiers up the back!”

  I was on my stomach in a sniper’s position. I managed to take out a few more infected before I slung my rifle and crawled over to the para-troopers. I wrestled with one of the bodies, trying to unclip the harness. I finally got it. It was weird taking the parachutes off the dead soldiers. I remembered back to when Kenji saved us, back in the interrogation room at the North Sydney police station. All those months ago. There was a dead soldier there. Kenji basically picked him clean. He checked all his pockets and took his ammo and his rifle. I had to tell myself then, and remind myself now, that it wasn’t disrespectful. It was about survival. It was necessary.

  I turned and threw the parachute back to Maria.

  “Take it!”

  Maria was a picture of concentration. Her rifle was raised to her shoulder. Eyes down the sight and the barrel. She was doing an excellent job of keeping the infected back. Maybe those shooting sessions with Kenji and Daniel had finally paid off. Or maybe it was just easy to hit something in a confined area like a train carriage.

  I reminded myself to stay low. Keep my head down. I didn’t want to get done by friendly fire.

  Not now. I’d come too far for that.

  I loaded my last remaining magazine into my rifle. Took down a few more infected. Luckily, the force of a rifle shot was enough to knock them backwards off their feet.

  But to get the next parachute, I had to move even closer to the doorway and the infected.

  I continued to crawl and climb over the dead soldiers.

  Just a little further, I told myself. Almost there.

  “Hurry!” Maria shouted. “I’m nearly out of ammo.”

  I slung my rifle and got a move on. If I had to guess, I’d say I had about ten bullets left. But running out of ammunition wasn’t really our biggest worry. Our biggest worry was running out of track. Because when that happened, if we were still on board, we would be killed instantly.

  I needed this parachute and we needed to fall back to the next carriage.

  Lock the door.

  And then Jump.

  I finally made it to the next para-trooper. I fiddled with the straps of the parachute harness. My hands were shaking with adrenalin and energy. And fear.

  I got the parachute free. I threw it back towards Maria.

  The infected kept coming. They charged.

  There was a man wearing overalls. Somehow he was still wearing a hat. He was a farmer in a past life. I shot him in the head and he flew back towards the door.

  Another infected climbed over the top of his body. It had no legs. It was just a body and hands and fingernails and teeth.

  It clawed its way forward.

  I squeezed the trigger.

  Click.

  I was out.

  I scrambled back on my hands and ass. “Maria! I’m out!”

  “I’m out too!” she answered.

  I was just about to get to my feet and turn and run. It was my only option. We were out of ammo and now was not the time to get into a fist fight with these things. But all of a sudden, Maria jumped over the seats, knife in hand. She stomped on the side of its head and drove the knife through the temple, killing it instantly.

  Maria grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. She looked like a goddamn action hero. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  “Where’d you get that knife?”

  “I borrowed it from one of the soldiers.”

  Maria had just saved my life but there was no time to thank her. No time to celebrate.

  “All right,” I said. “We need to shut this next door. And then we need to jump.”

  Maria nodded.

  We moved into the front carriage. The last carriage. We had nowhere else to go.

  We slammed the connecting door shut, hoping the infected wouldn’t figure out how to use the handle and slide it open.

  A few seconds later they crashed into it from the other side. Again, I was extremely thankful that the glass was reinforced.

  But it wouldn’t hold them for long. The glass was already beginning to break and shatter. The frame was already starting to strain and buckle.

  Chapter 27

  The train emerged from the tunnel, speeding along at two hundred miles per hour. We had entered another huge cave. An endless space. Suddenly the ground fell away from us. We were now on the bridge. We were now over the water. The underground lake.

  We were fast running out of track. Fast running out of time.

  The bridge was high above the water. At least two hundred feet. Possibly higher.

  “How long?” I asked. “How long before the track runs out?”

  “Two minutes,” Maria answered. “Maybe less.”

  “OK, it’s time. We have to jump. In one minute the infected will break through. In two minutes we’re out of track. We need to jump.”

  Maria did not look confident. She did not want to do it.

  I handed her one of the parachutes. “Here. Put this on. Like a backpack.”

  “Was it bad?” She asked. “When you were sucked out of the plane over Sydney. Was it scary?”

  I wanted to lie and say, ‘nah, it was a piece of cake’. But I knew she would see right through me.

  “It was terrifying,” I answered. “And then for a split second, it was kind of fun. But your NBC suit will absorb a lot of the impact.”

  “What about you?”

  “I have experience on my side.”

  “One jump and now all of a sudden you’re an expert?”

  “Look, we don’t have time for this.”

  Maria nodded. She didn’t like the idea at all. But she knew it was the only way. I showed her how to put the parachute on, and gave her the crash course in how to pull the handle as soon as she was clear of the train.

  “Keep your hand on the handle as you jump. As soon as you’re clear, pull the handle.”

  Maria nodded, speechless, too scared to say anything.

  And as soon as I gave her these last second instructions, my heart began to race. My chest tightened up. We opened the side door and the wind roared through the carriage. It was violent and angry. I guess travelling at over two hundred miles per hour, the wind really is angry and violent and dangerous. We had to open the door together, using all our strength to pry them apart. To get the door to stay open we had to jam the shotgun in there.

  Maria had strapped on the parachute. The harness was covered in blood.

  “Grab the handle!” I yelled over the roaring wind. “Turn your back so it’s facing out the door.”

  “You want me to jump back
wards? Are you crazy!?”

  “You won’t really be jumping. You won’t have time. Just pull the chute. The wind will catch it and drag you out and away from the carriage. Hopefully, you will float down to the water.”

  “And then what?”

  “Unclip the chute and swim.”

  Maria shook her head. She still did not want to do it.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t.”

  “You can!”

  “It’s too high.”

  “That’s a good thing,” I said. “The higher up we are, the more time the chute has to deploy, the more chance the parachute has to slow down your descent.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Wait! What about Ben?” she asked. “How are you going to get him out?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get him. I’ll drag him out.”

  “He’s too heavy. You’ll never make it!”

  “We don’t have a choice!”

  We were almost out of time. The infected were about to break through the door. The tracks were about to run out on us. And it felt like the train was still picking up speed. It felt like we were now flying along, high above the water.

  I pushed Maria towards the door. The time for arguing was over. She was shaking her head. Crying.

  We made eye contact.

  And I pulled her chute handle and pushed her out.

  The parachute deployed out of the door, and she was immediately dragged up and out of the train as she screamed.

  I watched her for a few seconds to make double sure that she was clear of the bridge and over the water.

  She had made it.

  Now it was my turn.

  I ran to the driver’s cabin and grabbed Ben by his arms and dragged him towards the door.

  I prepared myself. I took a deep breath.

  I shook my hands out one last time and then grabbed Ben in a sort of bear hug. I clasped my hands and fingers together. Ben was big and heavy, but adrenalin and fear had given me a burst of strength. I could hold him, I told myself. I have to hold him. If I dropped him, he would die.

  I turned so my back was facing out the door. But then I realised I would only be able to hold onto Ben with one hand, since I needed my other hand to release the chute.

  This wasn’t going to work.

  I needed to secure Ben to my body somehow.

  His belt.

  I whipped it out through the loops on his pants. I quickly buckled it and slipped it over my shoulders. I then made sure Ben’s shoulders were looped over the belt as well. It wasn’t much of an improvement but it would help.

  It was time to go.

  But just as I was about to jump, the whole train began to shake. I looked up. Looked through the door into the driver’s cabin.

  Through the windshield I could see the carriage dip forward.

  The whole train shook violently again.

  I was nearly knocked off my feet.

  We had run out of track.

  The train began to fall.

  I remember everything happening in super slow motion.

  I held on to Ben as tight as I could. All seven foot, three hundred pounds of the man.

  I pulled the handle on the chute.

  In the end, I didn’t even need to jump. The train shook from side to side, throwing me out and away from the train, out into the enormous, dark cavern. My chute was deployed and my descent was slowed. I held onto Ben as tight as I could. My arms and my hands and my fingers screamed in pain.

  Chapter 28

  The pain. White hot. It felt like heated knives and bamboo splinters had been inserted under my fingernails all the way up to my knuckles.

  But I held on.

  Everything was still happening in slow motion.

  We were clear of the unstoppable runaway train. We were clear of the tracks. I saw the bridge. Saw where it had been blown up. The train fell majestically into the lake at over two hundred miles per hour. It practically disintegrated upon hitting the water, causing a giant wall of white wash.

  I was instantly reminded of the destruction of the Sydney Harbor Bridge.

  The massacre.

  For a moment we were in the clear. We were floating and falling. We had been pulled out of the train carriage and the wind had taken the chute. There was enough drag to slow us down and pull us out into the enormous cavern. But as far as I could tell, we might as well have been falling into the night sky, we might as well have been outside, over the Pacific ocean. I can’t adequately describe the enormity of this cavern. It was endless. It was a universe.

  We picked up speed and floated and descended towards the lake. At this point all I wanted to do was keep Ben from drowning. Keep myself from drowning. Where is Jack when you need him? He was the strongest swimmer in our group, and he had practically saved me from drowning in Sydney Harbor. I quickly scanned the immediate area, looking for Maria. But I couldn’t see her. It was too dark.

  All of a sudden Ben’s shoulders slipped out from the belt that I had strapped around the both of us. I still had a hold of him in a bear hug, but my hands and fingers were numb from pain and exhaustion.

  He was starting to slip.

  Suddenly my hands seized up and I could no longer hold on. I let go of Ben involuntarily.

  He fell away.

  I screamed and the enormous never ending cavern swallowed my voice.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to Ben and to myself.

  I closed my eyes as Ben fell back-first into the water. He was unconscious.

  I started to cry as I realized that in a matter of seconds, water would fill his lungs. In a matter of seconds, he would drown.

  I continued to fall and float.

  I eventually hit the water. I hit hard. I must’ve been falling faster than I thought. I was surprised at how warm the water was. I looked around in a daze. I couldn’t see Maria. I couldn’t see Ben.

  I was alone.

  The parachute had a built in life jacket. The life jacket no doubt saved me from drowning.

  I must’ve hit my head, or maybe I snapped my neck awkwardly. I don’t really remember. I must’ve passed out. The next thing I knew, I was on a boat. An old fishing trawler.

  I thought I had been saved.

  I was wrong.

  Chapter 29

  I had floated and drifted to a dark place.

  I was trapped there. In the darkness. For a long time.

  I found myself sitting in a chair. And then I was strapped into the chair. My arms were tied to the armrests. I couldn’t move, couldn’t budge.

  I constantly felt like I was drowning. Suffocating and choking.

  Suddenly my arms were stretched out. My shoulders were dislocated.

  I was strung up in front of a crowd of faceless people.

  I was being crucified.

  Questions were shouted from the crowd.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Why did you enter the Fortress? Why did you walk off into the desert? You had Maria Marsh. She is the only person on record to have survived a bite. She is the only person immune to the Oz virus. You had her. And instead of getting her the hell out of Australia, you put her back in harm’s way. You took her out into the Australian outback with barely any water, hardly any food. What the hell were you thinking? You weren’t thinking. Now you are in hell. A labyrinth. A prison for bodies and souls. You are being hunted by nano-swarms and infected undead monsters. You are being hunted by a psychopath in a gas mask. You couldn’t even kill him when you had the chance. Why did you do it?”

  “For my friends,” I answered. “For Jack. For Kim. For Kenji.”

  “You don’t even know if Jack is alive. You don’t even know if Kenji is alive. You should never have come down here. The Fortress. You were warned. You were told to stay away, to forget about it. This is not a sanctuary. This is not a place of refuge. Not anymore. It is hell. It is a place of torture. Do
you think you will find salvation down here?”

  “I will find my friends,” I repeated. “They are my strength.”

  “Love leads to loss and fear and pain and suffering. You should let go of these attachments. Let go of them. They are better off… dead.”

  “No.”

  “You cannot save them. You will die down here.”

  I woke up suddenly. I felt like I was falling. I woke up on my back, on a hard, wooden surface. My head throbbed and ached. Maria was next to me. She was asleep. Her head was propped up on what appeared to be a back pack. She looked so peaceful. Her right arm was bandaged and in a sling. She was no longer wearing her NBC suit. Just her jeans and a t-shirt.

  I tried to sit up but it was hard to move.

  And then I realized someone was standing over me. An old man. He wore a short messy beard. It was stained with food and drink and dirt. He was wearing denim overalls and big rubber boots. He was holding a giant iron hook.

  A fishing hook?

  My heart skipped a beat and I tried to move back, but I was dizzy and faint and weak. I couldn’t focus my eyes.

  “Her shoulder was dislocated,” the man said. His voice was gentle. Patient. “I re-positioned it for her. Put the joint back into place. Back into the socket. She’ll need to keep it in a sling for a few days. Too early to tell if there’s any ligament damage.”

  I touched my forehead. There was a fresh bandaged wrapped securely around my head. It still hurt. “Where am I?” I asked. “We. Where are we?”

  The old man swung his hook, impaling the underbelly of what had to be a large fish or chunk of meat. He dragged it into an industrial sized ice box and slammed the door shut.

  “We are lucky,” he said. “It’s hard to catch these fish without the right tools.”

  “There’s fish down here?”

  “Yes. Lots of little fishies. Some big ones.”

  “Where are we?” I repeated.

  “You’re on my boat. It’s a shark in these waters. It’s the only safe place left down here.”

  I looked around slowly. It was an older boat. It appeared to be a fishing trawler. On the roof of the cabin, or the bridge, was a radar dish and some other technical equipment.