by MacCraw
Once everybody had salvaged all that they could and all that they needed, they knew that they had to press on and keep going towards London.
…
Three days’ worth of time on the tactical smart watches carried by Kirkley and his partners had transpired, and out of 72 hours on the move, only a total of 9 had been spent resting. The journey was a long and hectic one – dogs were attacking left and right, and their ammo was being whittled down about as fast as their food and water. Despite this, they were managing to keep their heads above water, though for how much longer they could keep this up was unknown.
The sleeping issue was perhaps the greatest obstacle faced by Kirkley’s group. Not only were their sleeping bags destroyed, meaning that they pretty much had to sleep on the ground or against each other, but not all of them could sleep at once. It was far too dangerous to the point where it couldn’t be considered. The entire concept had faded from the minds of the survivors.
“I think we lost them”, Kirkley huffed as he and the others rested safely in a deep gorge.
“How many were there, 3, or 4?” asked Hannah.
“4”, Kylie responded.
“They’re getting bolder”, said Kirkley as he unloaded his shotgun’s drum magazine and began hand-loading shells into it. “The only thing separating us from them is that they don’t know how much ammunition we have left.”
“Which is how much?”
“Not a lot”, sighed Kirkley. “I’ve gone through pretty much all of the shells in that bandolier I nabbed; the ones loaded in are the only ones I’ve got for my primary.”
Poet silently added her input by unloading the small magazine in her GOL magnum, and holding it and two others up for her partners to see. Pack was rather disheartened to find out that he only had two full magazines for the MP5A2, including the one presently loaded into his weapon. Kylie was also up a creek without a paddle, for she only had the bullets in her current magazine.
“Okay, so the situation is dire, lads”, Kirkley said, “But that doesn’t mean that the fight is lost. We are low on ammo, so avoid conflict unless necessary. And remember to save one for yourself, and those beside you.”
“Got it”, Hannah nodded.
…
And from there, the odyssey continued on, but now a new type of fear had washed over the intrepid, weary travelers: running from dog soldiers was one thing, but running from them with very little ammo left was another thing, and a much more dangerous thing. From that point, it became a true struggle for survival. Being partially deprived of sleep; almost completely out of ammo; stomachs about ready to digest themselves; and dried mouths and chapped lips turned this into the most painful experience any man could ever imagine. Though it had ceased snowing, it was still rather brisk.
“I could sure go for a cup of coffee right now”, said Hannah.
“You always know a Cup o’ Joe”, Pack cracked, earning a few laughs from his mates.
“Eh, ‘nuff with the coffee talk”, Kirkley groaned, “I’d kill for some nice, warm coffee or cool beer.”
“If your balls are freezing over as we speak, then why the hell would you drink a cold glass of beer?” Kylie chuckled, overwhelmed by his poor logic.
“Hey, in the wintertime, I’d still eat ice cream. And in the summer I’d still drink hot coffee”, Kirkley responded. “The taste and sensation outgun the temperature of said food or drink.”
“Eh, that’s true”, Kylie shrugged. “Before the outbreak of the Drone Wars, when I was about 18, I’d wake up on a hot and humid day and still wake up with a cup of coffee. I drank coffee like it was water.”
“Kind of like a fat guy on Mountain Dew”, Hannah snickered, playfully nudging her best friend.
The conversation quickly came to a halt when Kirkley heard a ravenous chomping and smacking noise: the sound of a dog soldier with a fresh kill. Everybody quickly took position behind the surrounding trees, which blocked out the bulk of the eclipse light. There was a clearing several yards ahead of the group, and in the clearing that basked in the orange light, a defenseless survivor shouted in terror as a large dog tore him apart. Poet’s pronounced eagle’s eyes flared angrily, and she took aim with her rifle, only for Kirkley to quickly intervene and lower the barrel before she could press the trigger.
“He’s a dead man”, Kirkley whispered, “And we’re almost entirely out of ammunition. Even if we drove off that dog – which I can’t imagine happening; that poor fucker would be a pile of sloppy flesh and bones. I know you want to help, but we just can’t. Not this time.”
Poet wanted to sigh, but she understood both the import of operational procedures and the nature of being stealthy, so not being able to sigh in disappointment was a disappointment of its own, and was slowly crushing her heart. Still, Kirkley knew best, and after the wolf had finished mutilating the body, it perked its head up and ran off into the forest. The survivors waited a brief amount of time, just to make sure that the wolf had left the scene, and after about a minute everybody cautiously walked out into the clearing
“Poor guy”, Kylie sighed as she vacantly stared at the shredded remnants of the unarmed traveler.
“He was completely defenseless”, said Kirkley. “No weapons of any sort.”
“Well if he didn’t have a gun or at the very least a knife or blunt weapon, then why the hell did he think going off into the woods alone and unarmed?!” Pack snapped. “That- that is literally the worst thing you could do.”
“Give it some rest, man”, Kirkley insisted. “Anyways, we should keep moving. The scent of rotten flesh will probably lure more dogs in.”
…
“See something, Poet?” asked Pack, who was wondering what Poet had her scope homed in on. Poet reached around her neck and gave Pack her rangefinder binoculars so he could see what she had spotted. Pack pressed the rangefinder up against his eyes, and to his surprise there was a lit building off in the distance. It was very far away, but it was an active structure.
“Kirkley, structure, one klick uphill”, Pack reported.
“Any signs of hostiles?” Kirkley questioned.
“Negative”, said Pack. “Whoa, whoa, wait… somebody up on the balcony. He’s got a gun. Poet, grease him.”
“Belay that, Poet”, Kirkley ordered. “It’s unknown if he’s hostile or friendly. Just because somebody totes a gun doesn’t make them the bad guy. The only way to ascertain this and see if he’s friend or foe is to get in for a closer look.”
…
It took Kirkley and his group about an hour to carefully make their way over towards the mysterious building, but their stealth and patience paid off, and they were now in the shadows, carefully analyzing the building and formulating a strategy.
“So what do we do?” Pack asked, “Walk up and shout ‘Hello!’?”
“We did that when we reached Glasgow, and it didn’t have a good outcome”, said Hannah.
“Okay, points to you for that”, Pack remarked.
“Alright, here’s the plan”, Kirkley stated, “Poet, you stay here should we need sniper support. Pack, Hannah; go around back and see if there are any entrances up or down. Kylie, with me, reconnaissance. Are all of your watches synched at the same time?”
“Yeah.”
“When five minutes pass, we all breach the building. Starting… now.”
Poet sat vigilantly, patiently keeping her scope on the sentry patrolling the balcony while Kirkley, Kylie, Pack and Hannah got into position. Hannah and Pack made sure to follow the shadows, which made their route considerably easier than Kylie and Kirkley’s, which had little to no cover provided.
“Packer, you see anything?” Hannah grinned.
“There’s a ramp that will take us up to the balcony where the guard is posted”, said Pack, “And when the fuck did you start calling me ‘Packer?’”
“Right now, Packer.”
The duo slowly started walking up the ramp, moving at a very slow pace and carefully sliding each foot
forward, instead of normally stepping up and making a light clopping sound.
“I’ve got an idea”, Hannah whispered, “Get up against the side.”
Pack obeyed Hannah’s command as the girl slowly shuffled up towards the corner. Once at the top, she lightly knocked on the wood, which obviously made a slight amount of noise that the sentry was able to hear. The unsuspecting man mumbled incoherently to himself before nervously approaching the source of the noise. The barrel of the guard’s assault rifle passed parallel to Hannah’s face, and once he began to turn around the corner, Hannah made her move. The guard was rather surprised to see Hannah lurking in the shadows, and with one strong yank, Hannah grabbed the barrel of the rifle and pulled it – and the man wielding it – down the walkway. The man released his weapon as he tumbled down the ramp and presumably fell unconscious.
“Excellent…” Hannah smirked.
Meanwhile, Kylie and Kirkley were moving around the opposite side of the building, but Kirkley noticed a sign on the side of the building that said, “Survivors welcome!”
“You think they’re trying to lure people in, Kylie?” Kirkley asked, remembering that the former bandit girl had experience with setting traps for the unaware.
“No, actually. The lights are on, and there’s quite a lot of noise within”, Kylie answered. “That being said, it never hurts to double-check.”
In a maneuver identical to the one executed by Pack and Hannah, Kirkley and Kylie backed up against the side of the building as they inched up the boardwalk and up towards the balcony. Kylie, who was on point, delicately peered around the side, and the guard was gone, which meant that Hannah and Pack had dealt with him properly.
“Go back down, to the front door”, said Kirkley. “We’re gonna breach in 30 seconds.”
Kylie was getting anxious about the whole procedure, but she was excited and obedient, and following Kirkley’s lead, she followed him down to the front door, where they kept their eyes on the numbers of their watches. Finally, the time came, and with a shared nod, Kirkley and Kylie kicked the door open and stormed into the room. But to their surprise, the pub wasn’t filled with wolf soldiers or bandits. Ordinary folks that looked just like them were in the pub, just having a good time… that is, until two strangers randomly threw the door open and marched in with weapons aimed.
“Knock-knock”, Kirkley joked.
“…Come in”, the bartender sarcastically remarked. “And can you please lower those guns o’ yours? You’re scaring these lot.”
“Sorry”, Kirkley sighed as he and Kylie slung their weapons and took a seat up at the bar.
“What can I-“
Everybody’s attention was drawn upward with sound of loud shattering glass. The origin of the epic crash went flying through the windows and plummeting down below. The two-man team of Hannah and Pack soared through the window and crashed onto a flimsy wooden table which nearly exploded upon impact. The people sitting at the table dove backwards, and by the time Hannah and Pack had survived their crash-landing, they were soaked with beer and slightly cut by the many fragments of glass that had made contact with their exposed skin. The alcohol also stung the wounds, which made Pack and Hannah bark and whine in minor pain from the burning cuts. Everybody in the pub was just speechless for a while, and finally began howling with laughter and raising their mugs as they cheered.
“Breaking news: If you two haven’t mastered the concept of a door by now, then you probably never will”, Kirkley commented.
“Hey, it was Hannah’s plan!” Pack exclaimed.
“Fuck off”, Hannah groaned, provocatively stepping up on top of Pack and walking down. “It was his.”
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Kirkley asked as he kissed his woman on the lips.
“Eh, I’m covered in cuts, bruises, scars; I’ve got broken glass in my arm, but I’m fine”, said Pack.
“So, uh, I’m sorry that my friends destroyed your window”, Kirkley sighed.
“No harm- well, I shouldn’t really say that”, the bartender chuckled. “Do you and the other girl that didn’t annihilate the window want some rounds on the house?”
“If you’re offering, sure. And thank you, um…?”
“Royce. Adrian Royce. So who are you and your pals?”
“I’m Kirkley. This is my lady love, Hannah; her best friend Kylie, and Captain Pack. We’ve got another member of our band with us, but she’s still outside”, Kirkley explained, though he slowed down when Poet walked into the pub and took a seat next to her mates.
“…And here she is”, Kirkley said.
“Jokes aside, are you two okay?” Royce asked to Hannah and Pack, who had hauled themselves up from humiliation and humbly sat beside their friends.
“We’re doing a bit better”, said Pack. “So tell me, what’s the deal with this place? Everywhere we’ve gone that had humans was either an entire city swarming with bandits, or a suspicious cabin with a demented woman who wanted to feed Hannah to her husband.”
“Luckily for you, we’re not those people”, Royce explained. “Survivors kind of flock here, seeking protection and security from the things that dwell in the wilderness. All of this is a team effort, and we receive supplies by our members in the pub.”
“Sounds pretty charitable”, Kirkley commented. “Is there room for more weary travelers?”
“You guys can stay here for as long as you’d like”, Royce smiled, shaking hands with Kirkley.
Despite how generous and outgoing this man seemed, Pack was still as paranoid and skeptical as ever. Based on the other experiences that he had both explained and experienced, Pack had plenty of good reason to fear other humans that he didn’t know. Pack rudely yanked Kirkley backwards to where he could whisper into Kirkley’s ear.
“Dude. These guys are trying to trick us”, Pack insisted.
“Poppycock. This guy’s generous, and understanding. These people have no beef with us, and I intend for it to stay that way.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Sorry about that”, Kirkley bluffed, “Pack’s just a little anxious from time to time. Nothing personal.”
“No big deal”, Royce replied. “We-“
All of a sudden the lighting in the pub began to fluctuate, before it mysteriously shut off and plunged the entire room into darkness, which caused unrest amongst the bar patrons.
“Settle down, settle down, settle down!” Royce ordered. “I need two volunteers to go out back and check.”
“I’ll do it”, one of the survivors declared.
“Count me in”, her friend added.
“Alright, good”, said Royce. “Turn your lights on and stay close. We might just have a blown fuse, but if not, then a buddy system is necessary. Should something pop up, open fire. Remember that there is a back door leading into the improvised safe room; barricade yourselves inside and we’ll come assist you. Good luck to the both of you.”
The two terrified survivors grabbed their weapons and began to carefully sneak outdoors. They had their backs pressed firmly against the wall, and they frequently swung around, scanning for any wolf men.
“Remind me why we went on this suicide mission, Helen”, the older man cynically asked.
“For the good of the team”, Helen explained. “Stay frosty, Couch.”
Helen and Couch made their way out back to where the generator was located. “Give me some light”, said Helen. Couch complied and pointed his flashlight onto the generator, and Hannah began to work on fixing it. As Couch stood over Helen with his flashlight on the generator, he felt a warm gust of wind on the back of his neck. Couch turned behind him, and was immediately startled by how close the dog soldier was to him. Its deep black eyes were fixed on his, and it continued to exhale slowly, with each gust of warm air hitting Couch’s face.
The wolf made its move. As Couch screamed for half a second, it placed one of its massive hands on his shoulder, and the other on his neck, and with little effort, the creature barbarically sna
pped his neck and killed him. Helen shrieked upon the sight of the wolf, but before she could grab her L85, the dog lunged for her, knocking her down as it began savagely chomping on her breast and viciously shaking. Helen continued to wail in agony as the beast tore her asunder; by the time she had died, her neck was open, her left breast had been ripped off of her chest, her belly was sliced open, and her right leg was severed. The dog howled after making another successful set of kills, and this howl chilled the bones of the survivors in the pub.
From the moment that Couch had shouted prior to his gruesome demise, everybody knew that trying to go out back and rescue Helen was suicidal and futile. Instead, they used these precious moments to get into cover for a game of hide-and-seek with high stakes. The reward? Survival.
Kirkley and his group, along with Royce, took refuge beneath the counter, while the majority of the patrons hid under the tables that they had been sitting at. A few people also bunched up into two groups and hid in both bathrooms, male and female.
“Do not, under any circumstance fire or get up”, Royce whispered.
After the period of insufferable waiting, deep, firm footsteps began echoing through the pub as the wolf soldier responsible for the previous two deaths stomped into the pub and slowly began inspecting and investigating the seemingly deserted structure. The lone wolf knew that there was prey inside, but it was hiding from an unstoppable killing machine. The dog was at a considerable advantage due to its ability to see in the dark.
The first patron to kick the bucket was a victim of his own recklessness, though he inadvertently saved the lives of those hiding behind the bar. As the wolf began to stride around the room, the cocky man crawled forward, but due to not being able to see clearly, he made noise by making contact with a chair, which lightly thumped. The dog soldier quickly swung around and was able to see the defenseless man on the floor. Lunch was served. The patron wailed in terror as the dog slashed up and effortlessly tore open his chest. The weakened man flew backwards and loudly crashed onto the edge of a table, which capsized and dropped him onto the ground with a loud smash. Surprisingly enough, the wolf didn’t continue devouring him. It towered over him, almost as it was waiting for him to do something.