Samuels stared at him with a downcast expression. He said nothing but looked around at the other troops for a little support, but as usual nobody had heard and he resignedly returned to his task. He was a quiet lad and had not said anything to anybody, but more than most he was close to breaking point. Normally he would have taken Bannister’s chiding as nothing more than harmless banter, and normally that was all it would have been. Right now though it felt a lot more personal, like a private vendetta, as though Bannister was venting his own anxieties on Samuels, and he felt as though he had had about as much as he could handle. Bannister was not normally like this and he just could not understand it.
Singleton sidled up to Lewis but said nothing. He turned to her. “Are you all right?”
“Hmmm, not really. Just scared I guess.”
Millington was standing beside them and Lewis grabbed his arm. “Look, there are a dozen burly soldiers all around you for your protection, like this one. He thumped Millington’s thick upper arm. “Any problems, he’ll protect you. Trust me; nothing gets past this big oaf.” He shoved Millington but the large soldier hardly even moved.
Millington grinned. “You little people stay close to me and you’ll be just fine,” he rumbled.
Lewis turned now to Handley. “How're you doing Doc?”
“Yeah, all right, all things considered. Are we going to be okay inside?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe. This is just a walk in the park.” He smiled and turned away, caught Millington’s smirk and rolled his eyes in reply.
The clank of the metal grate rattling as Mayoh and Samuels heaved it upwards ended the discussion. Bannister shone a torch into the truck but it was empty. “Okay doughnuts, carry on.”
Lewis went to talk to the drivers. “I want the two of you to stay alert.” He pointed to Darby and Berthon.
Hutchison looked puzzled. “Two?”
“Yes. We’re nice and out in the open here. As long as these two stay focussed then nothing's going to sneak up on them. You’ve got radios, stay in touch with us and let us know if anything - and I mean anything - happens. I think that inside there are going to be a few surprises. Best case there may be some survivors. Worst case there may be a whole shed-load of people who’ve turned into zombies. Either way we’re going to need all the man-power we can get in there. It’s not ideal but then none of this is. Don’t let me down. We’re relying on you two to keep our exit clear. Without you we’re buggered. Got it?”
Berthon looked serious but Darby just grinned.
Lewis glared at him. “I mean it. This is no playground, this is for real. If you guys mess up then we could all be dead.”
His smile disappeared. “Yes sir.”
As Lewis walked away Hutchison turned to Darby with a scowl. “This is no time for jokes. Don’t - screw - up.” He punctuated the last sentence by prodding the young man in the chest with a grubby finger as he spat out each word.
Samuels and Mayoh had climbed into the truck and managed to force open the door at the front giving them a way into the complex.
Bannister called out to Lewis. “We’re in.”
Normally Lewis would have pulled him up on his informal manner and lack of use of the word ‘sir’, but this was not the time. He made a mental note to keep an eye on Bannister who looked as though he was feverish and had still kept his jacket firmly buttoned up.
Once inside the barriers Lewis looked back at the two soldiers who were left behind. Darby waved and smiled but Lewis just glared, pointed at him with one finger and then at his own eyes with two. He suddenly felt uneasy leaving Darby behind. He hoped it was not a decision they would live to rue, or worse, die regretting.
The main building nearest to them was large, up to three stories high in parts, and fairly modern with a lot of metal and glass in the structure. It predominantly stretched in an east-west direction but towards the east there was a northerly, L-shaped wing which was made of red brick and looked as though it was designed for a different purpose. From the outside it was hard to say which parts would be devoted to offices and which to laboratories. Lewis turned to Singleton but she just shrugged. There was an obvious entrance about a third of the way along from the western corner of the building and so they crossed the surrounding car park and made their way towards it.
As they approached there was a male corpse lying facing down on the tarmac. He wore dark brown, corduroy trousers and a dirty white shirt which had been mostly torn off, revealing a hairy back and shoulders. A small pool of dark blood had stained the ground beneath his upper torso and there were wounds on his exposed arms. There was severe bruising on his neck where a bone had obviously broken as the skin was distended and discoloured.
Singleton was breathing heavily when she looked at the body and they all paused for a moment. Sergeant Straddling glared back at her and Lewis took her softly by the arm.
“You okay Anna?” He felt as though he had been doing nothing but asking her that same question all morning, but she was the main reason they were all there now and it was important to keep her clear and focussed.
She nodded. “Sorry. It’s not like I haven’t seen a corpse before. I mean for goodness sake, I’m a military doctor,” she chastised herself.
“All right. Look we need you to be calm and not over-react when you see any more, as there definitely will be more. Possibly lots more, maybe some truly gruesome sights.”
He led her to the body and prodded it with his foot, half turning it over so that they could see the face. The man must have been about forty-five years old. He had dark hair and a thin wispy beard. His face was bloated, his eyes bulged from their sockets and most of his teeth were missing. His head was cranked at an unusual angle and there was blood under his matted hair. It seemed fairly clear that he had indeed been sick when death had claimed him.
Lewis knelt down beside the corpse and encouraged her to do the same, getting as close as the stench would allow. “You’re going have to get used to this. We can’t have you screaming out and attracting attention to us when we’re inside. I don’t mean to be harsh or labour the point but this is important. It could be the difference between life and death; for all of us.”
She nodded. “You’re right. Look, I’ll be fine next time, seriously.” She stood up and took a step away, swallowing a gulp of clean air.
“Not only that,” he continued slowly, “but if we see any septics in there, and we may well do, then we’re going to have to shoot them; without remorse. Make no mistake about that. If any come at you then I expect you to pull the trigger without hesitation. It really is as simple as you or them and I’d like to keep you alive another day. Are you happy with that?”
“Yes, I understand. Them or me. Got it.”
“Good.”
Lewis nodded at Wood who stood by, dispassionately observing the scene. The ten moved carefully on, towards the entrance. Everyone had a Browning and all but the doctors had an SA80 as well. Wood had a rucksack strapped across his shoulders, the doctors and a few of the soldiers also had bags that they hoped to fill with vital information. As they made their way across the remaining car park there was no obvious evidence of any further struggle. Yet.
The entrance looked like the official reception for anyone arriving at the plant. There was a large sign hanging above the doors that said ‘Gautam van Firstenburg’ in bold, dark blue lettering. There was an automatic sliding door and a narrower single door to the side. The frames were made of metal, presumably steel, with blue, powdered aluminium paint. There were two pillars on either side of the sliding doors made of smooth white marble and a small raised paving step also of marble, which did not quite suit the overall metallic design. The area looked like it was meant to give the aura of success but failed on some level and instead gave the impression that it had been picked out of a generic catalogue with little thought, presumably by someone whose opinions were rarely challenged.
The doors were all locked and some office furniture inside h
ad been piled high against them. It gave Lewis a subtle thrill that they may find survivors. So many possibilities, so much hope. To the left of the single door a window had been smashed. The pane looked to be reinforced however as the hole was small and the rest of the pane had not splintered. Mayoh and Samuels got to work on the locks to the single door while the rest kept a wary eye out.
Lewis stopped, held up his hand and beckoned Wood, Straddling, Hutchison, Millington and Bannister over to him. “This building is pretty damn big. We don’t really stand much chance of working through the whole thing if we stick together. I’m thinking we should split up. Perhaps go through it all in the same direction but one group goes one floor above the other. That way we’ll cover more ground but not be too far away in case of trouble. Thoughts?”
Straddling was shaking his head. It felt to Lewis as though pretty much every time he made a decision lately he had to argue it through with the man.
“I don’t like it. It’s bad enough being here as it is without us all splitting up. I think we’re better off staying together. We’ve lost enough men already; we don’t want to lose anybody else.”
Lewis nodded, remaining quiet but looked at Hutchison questioningly. He knew that the two sergeants were close and he suspected Hutchison would agree with Straddling, in private at least. This unspoken acquiescence was probably boosting Straddling’s resolve, giving the man confidence to question his authority. By singling Hutchison out and demanding his opinion Lewis hoped he would baulk at openly supporting his friend and Straddling would have to back down. Lewis wanted to isolate Straddling. Perhaps then he would stop being quite so objectionable.
Hutchison was reluctant to speak until Lewis urged him to do so, but even then he was diplomatic.
“Ah, I can see both arguments. It is a large building and we’ll be hard pushed to search it all even if we do split up, but that does obviously make it more chancy.”
“Especially as we’ve got the doctors with us,” Straddling interrupted. “Man, they’re a frigging liability; we’ve already seen how jumpy she is.” He nodded in the direction of Singleton and Lewis noted that he had not tried to keep his voice down, so that Singleton had heard his comments.
Lewis tried to remain unmoved and keep emotion out of it. He needed them all on his side and in order to get the best results they possibly could from this mission they would indeed have to take risks, but that was the reality of their lives at present. He was not keen merely to stamp his authority on the decision and dictate to them as that could easily escalate the situation as it had before at the gun store and lead to mutiny. For the survival of them all, more than anything, Lewis knew that they had to have an effective chain of command. There was not time to have a debate about every decision and this was most definitely not the place to be having such a disagreement. Instead he turned now to Sergeant Wood, hoping for a saviour, and once again Wood did not disappoint.
“I don’t know much about you men or whether you have much previous front line experience,” Wood started and immediately Lewis could see Straddling bridling at the thought that his expertise was being called into question. Lewis had to quickly stifle a smirk as Wood continued, “…but I’ve seen my fair share of somewhat tasty situations. Sometimes when you arrive at a hot location you don’t have time for Colonel Mustard and the cavalry to pitch up. You’ve gotta take chances. I don’t mean foolhardy actions but occasionally you go into a spot with what you would consider less than adequate support. That’s just how it is, that’s the nature of our job and doubly so these days.
“We’re here for a reason and that reason is bigger and more important than any one of us. That’s why we joined the military in the first place and that’s why we all agreed to come today. What we’re doing here may very well justify our miserable existence on this godforsaken planet.”
He looked at nobody in particular but Lewis could sense Straddling’s expression change as he assumed the comment was directed at him.
“We all knew the threats," Wood continued, "and we’re here anyway. So I say we’re wasting time. Why don’t we stop bitching like pre-pubescent school-girls and do this thing?”
Hutchison nodded, Bannister still looked sullenly at the ground but Millington was more enthusiastic. “Absolutely,” he said with a grin.
Straddling grunted reluctantly and Lewis had been spared a more testing confrontation that could potentially split the group. They needed now to act as a cohesive unit if they were to have any realistic prospect of coming out alive.
“Okay, I’ll take Hutchison, Singleton, Bannister and Samuels,” Lewis said. “Straddling, I’d like Wood in charge of your section, given that he has probably more experience in these kinds of situations than any of us. Stay in radio contact and don’t get sloppy. We’ve not exactly got an abundance of ammo so make each round count; go for the headshot. Be frugal but don’t take chances.”
Straddling still did not look happy, especially at the mention of Wood taking charge. “How are we supposed to be frugal yet not take any chances? This is madness,” he muttered to Hutchison as they parted.
The doors were open and they moved inside with one last lingering look back. Lewis went first and had the bizarre memory of an old, children’s nursery rhyme. It was something about five little ducks venturing out, over the hill and far away. Then Mother Duck calls them back and only four return, and then three and so on, until the very end, when Mother Duck finally calls one last time and all five come rushing back. He wondered how many would return when he called at the end of this day, or if he would even be there himself to do any calling.
The air inside was musty and stale with the odour of death and decay. It was gloomy but not as bad as the supermarket had been a couple of days before. The barricades that had been put by the door looked to have been hastily constructed. The items of furniture were not tied together and had clearly not been put to the test. The reception desk to the right was a semi-circular shape made of some light-coloured wood with rich, blue leather trim. There was a small office open behind it and a wide staircase led upwards in an arc into the shadows above, like something from a grand mansion house. The office looked relatively normal, untouched since the last day of trading, since the company realised the monumental mistake it had inflicted upon mankind and shamefully shut its doors to the public for the last time.
On the wall in the office was a site map with an internal plan of the entire building. Lewis, Wood, Straddling and Singleton gathered around it. It showed various points of interest such as the laboratories in the northerly, L-shaped wing, an IT area and an animal section. The entrance they had come through was to the western side of the main building. It seemed that there were nothing but offices further west from their current position, unlikely to be of any value to them but still worth a cursory check for survivors, information and to ensure that nobody could surprise them from behind. It should not take too long. However it was possible that they were more likely to find what they were looking for towards the eastern area.
Wood led his troops up the stairs and they disappeared hesitantly into the dark. It felt to Lewis as though they should be saying their last farewells. How many would be left when they finally regrouped? Just as they were about to start off into the unknown there came a shriek from somewhere not too far away. All of them jumped and stared around, expecting something to leap at them from the shadows. It sounded like someone in pain or perhaps an animal being tortured. It was hard to detect exactly where it came from and it stopped as suddenly as it started. It left every one of the soldiers with a strong feeling of foreboding. If any of them had previously wondered whether the laboratories might have remained secure, those thoughts were now completely abandoned.
CHAPTER 5
Not so far from the RAF station and getting closer all the time, Farzin stormed along the street in Bishop’s Stortford. Like the other vampires in the clan he was enjoying the lack of care and concern, not merging with the shadows and waiting until dark to
venture forth but striding openly through the centre of town during the day. This was not something he had experienced for quite some time and he relished the freedom. Unlike his other clan members however his feelings of contentment were tainted with acrimony and wrath directed at humanity. Amongst other things, he was filled with resentment for the years of being ensconced in the dark, hiding from detection and constantly checking he had not been discovered. There was bitterness also for the loss inflicted upon him of his first love, the first he had turned, the first who could never be forgotten. That resentment was never far from the surface now and harder to conceal all the time.
Of all the vampires in the clan after Max and of course Darius, he was the one possessed of the greatest longevity, a clear reason why he believed himself to be Darius’s obvious successor. His origins were as loathsome as the rest of his existence. Born unwanted to a prostitute as the result of a hateful crime, he was bequeathed from the start with an abhorrence towards humanity, an abhorennce for which he spent both his life before turning, and his second life after, seeking retribution. He was already well aquainted with the shadows. He spent his time skulking and watching. He had been leading a life of crime; not overtly aggressive acts of violence which might place him directly in danger, but sly, secretive, cowardly offenses, preying on the weak and vulnerable. He was already alienated from his fellows and hence was an easy target for the clan, ready and willing to abandon his first life and start afresh. After his turning he had wholeheartedly embraced vampyrism and became fascinated and fanatical about their culture. He felt accepted in a way that he never had whilst human, vindicated, powerful and better able to right the wrongs of history.
A while after his turning, having left his native Persia, he travelled to the area of Wallachia, to where he believed his ancient ancestors’ castle to have been. He wanted to ascertain all that he could of the nature of his new kind. At this time he had been traveling with Tania, the first he had ever turned, his first love, after a fashion, as far as his inhospitable heart would permit such a frivolous emotion.
The Blood of the Infected (Book 2): Once Bitten, Twice Live Page 5