by MacCraw
…
What seemed like a dream became a reality, and within several more hours of meandering through the English countryside, the ragtag team of Kirkley, Hannah, Pack, Poet, Kylie and Royce managed to reach the enormous city of London, though Kylie was having a hard time.
“Okay, it is a lot bigger than I thought it would be”, Hannah whistled as she took a sip from her water bottle.
“Rangefinder”, Kirkley said. Poet handed him the pair of adjustable binoculars she carried around her neck, and Kirkley took a look through them. He instantly jumped back upon first staring into them, since the light and the sudden change in visual range stunned him, but his eyes eased into the binoculars and allowed him to observe the distant edges of the tremendously oversized city. The issue with having such high magnification was that even the slightest of turns caused Kirkley’s view on a particular point to sway wildly and uncontrollably. Despite the aggravation produced by this long-distance reconnaissance, Kirkley managed to get a good bearing on the road leading up and into London.
Everyone began their descent down towards the capitol. As time went on, Kylie’s injury began to gradually worsen, and at this point she couldn’t move without aid from her friends. Despite the enormous spikes of pain that would pulse through her body with every step, even though Poet and Royce were helping her walk, Kylie felt relieved that they were finally at a location where a surgeon could patch up her now badly-infected wound. From Kirkley’s perspective, it was a race against time, for he knew that Kylie wouldn’t last much longer out in the cold with a ghastly wound that nearly dumped her innards outwards. The howls of approaching wolves didn’t quite calm him down, and he found himself aggressively urging his team to move up on frequent intervals. Aside from Kylie’s grunting, and Kirkley’s assertive commands, nobody spoke, since this was a time of seriousness and concentration.
The group reached the edge of the city, and without much though, they began to scurry into an alleyway which slowly took them deeper into the titanic labyrinth of a city.
“Does anybody have something?” Kirkley asked; “An epi-pen, or some sort of painkiller or adrenaline injector?”
“If we had one, we probably would’ve used it by now”, Hannah sarcastically remarked.
“Hey, you’re the one who keeps getting shot”, scoffed Pack.
“Look, don’t start fighting again, you two”, said Kirkley. “We need a means of getting Kylie to a hospital, or at least keeping her alive to get to a hospital.”
“Yeah, but what are we-“ Royce began to question, before a loud barrage of gunfire began tearing up the wall behind him. He narrowly dove to prone as the gunshots whizzed and cracked behind him. Royce’s heart was pounding like a drum, and he rapidly crawled out of the shooter or shooters’ sight.
“Single shooter!” Pack yelled to his comrades as he loaded his weapon.
“How can you tell?!” Kirkley hollered in response, but his question went unanswered as Pack rushed around the vicinity to flank around and ambush the shooter.
The gunner was so preoccupied with the people hiding up against a wall that they didn’t anticipate Captain Pack darting from cover to cover as he prepared to move in behind the shooter. The person would continue to rain down on the survivors with an automatic rifle until he heard a gentle click of the safety being switched off.
“Please stop doing that”, Pack hissed as he slowly pressed the tip of his gun against the back of the soldier’s head. “We mean you no harm.”
“If you have been bitten by the dog soldiers, then you must leave immediately, or I will employ lethal force on you”, the nervous soldier declared.
“We haven’t been bitten or clawed”, Pack explained. “My friends are going to emerge from behind the alley you were inaccurately spraying at, and you won’t shoot them. We need your help immediately. Kirkley, Kylie, Poet, Hannah, Royce! Get your sorry arses out here.”
Kirkley and the others came out into the open, and the soldier felt immediately sorry for Kylie after seeing her enormous wound.
“Is that woman going to be alright?” the middle-aged British trooper asked with concern.
“If she doesn’t get medical treatment immediately, then no”, Hannah replied.
Just then, more British army soldiers came running over to see what their squad leader was firing at. “Sir, we heard shots”, one of the troopers stated as he quickly saluted the sergeant. “Who are these folks?”
“Survivors, in urgent need of medical treatment”, the sergeant explained. “Darnell; bring the car around. We need to get these people to base camp, pronto.”
Private Darnell obediently followed his order moments after receiving it, and after about a minute, a military jeep came around the corner.
“Get the wounded in there!” Sergeant Holmes shouted.
“Wait, this jeep’s kind of small”, Kirkley interjected, “What are the rest of us going to do?”
“We wait here until Darnell’s finished dropping off the wounded girl and a few others; then the Private will come and get the rest of us”, said Holmes.
“Kylie, Pack, Hannah, Poet; get in”, ordered Kirkley. Pack climbed into the Humvee to man the .50 caliber machine gun turret as Hannah and Poet assisted Kylie into the vehicle. Before entering the car herself, Hannah turned to give Kirkley a compassionate peck on the cheek.
“Take care of Kylie”, Kirkley smiled.
“Yes, sir”, Hannah replied as she climbed into the vehicle. Once all passengers were aboard, Darnell shifted into first gear and drove off into the big city towards a surgeon that could finally heal Kylie.
“How long will it be until they get there and come back around?” asked Kirkley.
“It’s a 30-minute round trip”, explained Holmes.
“So looks like we’re holding down this position for half an hour then, huh?” Kirkley remarked.
“We’ve got enough firepower to ward off those fuckers for a while”, Holmes nodded. “No biggie.”
“With all due respect, sir; yes, biggie", Kirkley replied. "Those creatures learn. They learn quick", he said, snapping his fingers; "They adapt. Each encounter they survive from teaches them more about the tactics employed by their prey. They learn what kind of weapons their prey utilizes. They learn that human survivors always stay in groups. That they try to bunker down and ambush their packs.”
“And how would you know all of this?”
“Because I learn, too”, said Kirkley. “After an encounter with a man who had been clawed, we tied him up and learned that it takes these things approximately 16 hours to transform into a monster. We learned that high enough calibers of weapons are able to bring them down, though whether they die from the damage inflicted on them is fatal is unknown. They have a high tolerance for pain, but they still feel it. They hunt in packs. They work as a team. And sooner or later, they’re going to attack this city.”
“Oh, they’ve tried, but we push them back each and every time”, Holmes replied. “We have entire platoons across this vast city, guarding against the dog soldiers from every angle, nook and cranny. London won’t fall, so long as we hold it down with a firm grip.”
“So how many of them do you think are out there?” Royce asked.
“It depends”, Kirkley replied. “Right now they’re out there up north, killing off everybody one by one. They kill the weak, and intentionally wound the strong, so that those people may join the wolf soldier army and aid their fellow pack mates in hunting the remnants of humanity.”
“Oh shit!” Royce suddenly exclaimed. “Oh shit…”
“What’s the matter?”
“Their numbers are increasing”, Royce deduced. “When the packs get large enough and link up together, they’re going to attack London.”
“Still think you’ve got enough firepower to ward them off?” Kirkley sarcastically asked as he slowly turned to face Holmes.
“We might have a problem…” Holmes nervously answered, realizing now how bad the situation had
become.
…
Unbeknownst to the band of survivors, as well as their new military and civilian allies, the dog soldiers were preparing for a long siege on London.
Similar to molecular bonding, the dogs would combine their packs upon connecting with the other wolf men, but since each pack had an alpha, only one could lead the newly-formed packs. The only possible way of deciding the new leader was to fight to the death. It was like professional wrestling; where two contestants would fight; there would be a victor, and a loser, and the victor would climb up the ladder. For over a month, small packs of dog soldiers would encounter each other, and seamlessly merge after the death of one of the former pack leaders. During this period of time, the lesser wolves; primarily the males that were subordinates to the alpha, were tasked with hunting for humans, either for food or to draft new members into the army of nightmarish and inconceivable horror.
At this point, the largest pack in the region consisted of over 60 wolves, who were aware that the largest supply of food was holed up in a place that they could once speak aloud as “London”. Their humanity, ethics, emotions, and ability to vocalize had been entirely erased, but their memories and information learned during the years of their lives they spent as humans hadn’t been.
In the center of a dark forest shrouded in mist and the scent of death, the wolves watched as two of their own kind ferociously dueled each other for control of the pack. One wolf had brown fur, and a large distinguishing trio of scars across his face, likely from a prior engagement with a previous contestant. The other wolf soldier had fur of a light grey color, and had visible damage inflicted from attempted hunts on humans – bullet wounds, cists, calluses, and other anomalies on his skin were clear indicators that this particular wolf had been shot many times and still managed to hold his ground. He was an ugly critter, but an incredibly strong one. The brown dog had been fighting with the grey one for over an hour, and neither had backed down despite the brutal injuries each party had sustained. Dark crimson blood stained the forest floor and the fur of the dog men. Patches of fur had been sliced clean off by the razor-bladed talons of the creatures’ hands. Bite marks were evident on the forearms and occasionally on the snout.
The conflict finally ended when the brown wolf’s arm was dislocated by his enemy, and with his arm disabled, he was at a serious disadvantage. At this point, the grey wolf decided to spare his enemy, since he was no longer a threat to him. He didn’t display complete compassion, though; after nearly killing his rival, the grey wolf roared and slashed, chasing the injured brown wolf away into the forest and giving him the abundantly clear message that he was now an outcast, and that if he ever dared to return, then death was a guarantee. The grey wolf howled in triumph, and his new subordinate pack members howled along with him, until another brown wolf moved in towards the newly-“elected” alpha male.
Looking at the Samantha wolf standing before him confused the alpha male. Initially, he believed that she wanted to procreate with him, but when he attempted to make a move, Samantha angrily struck him. The supposedly strong and mighty new alpha male whimpered in pain and confusion, but when the Samantha wolf unexpectedly assaulted him and slammed him to the ground, he realized all too late that she meant business. Before he could even attempt to rise up and counterattack, Samantha lunged for his neck and bit down with unbelievably strong crushing force. As the fatally-injured dog soldier squealed in agony, Samantha continued to angrily shake her head as she completely demolished his vulnerable neck. With one last jolt, Samantha wolf crunched through his windpipe, which made him loudly squeak as he quickly died.
The other wolves were truly amazed by just how ferocious this particular wolf was, and in fear of being mutilated themselves, they readily accepted her leadership.
Now the most dangerous dog soldier in the apocalypse was the head of a large pack, which was slowly preparing to attack the city that encased the humans that had survived their mass genocide.
…
After a 30 minute wait, the Humvee returned to pick up Royce, Kirkley, Holmes, and the other soldiers in Holmes’s fireteam. They all drove back to camp, which was a military forward operating base, or FOB, set up in a park to house and tend to civilian survivors.
“Your girls are in the tent to the far left”, Darnell announced.
“That includes Captain Pack, right?” Royce quipped, earning a long and loud laugh from Kirkley. Once they were done cackling at the perfectly-timed insult, the two men walked over towards the medical tent. On their way there, Kirkley looked around to see that, for the first time in years, people actually seemed content and secure. Soldiers were at ease, casually chatting with each other; happy little children were running around and playing together, playing what seemed to be “wolf soldiers vs. humans”; young couples on walks, and other minor details that made Kirkley see the big picture. Seeing his fellow humans at ease and relaxed put color back into Kirkley’s world, and dusted off the negativity sitting atop his heart.
The men reached the tent and invited themselves in, where they looked at the less-positive side of the coin. There were quite a few injured people in, but despite the primary threat in the wilderness being the dog soldiers, their injuries were caused by anything but the dogs. Many people had taken a bullet or two, likely from either an accidental misfire or friendly fire, or from desperate bandits attempting to gun them down and loot their corpses. Some folks had been cut or bruised from physical forces, and a smaller amount were victims of food poisoning or illnesses.
“Holy shit”, Royce sighed as he counted the number of people who had been violently abused by the spirit of Sat.
Hannah spotted Kirkley and Royce, and came over to them. “Hey guys”, she smiled, “Good to see you. Kylie’s over there, with Poet and Pack.”
“How is she? Is she healable?” asked Royce.
“Yeah”, said Hannah. “She’s out; ‘Doc gave her some sedatives while he puts her back together. Pack’s a fuckin’ pussy; he threw up before he even cut her open.”
“How did he even join the military…?” remarked Royce.
“Don’t ask me”, Hannah scoffed. “Anyway, we’ve been assigned to stay in the apartment building a block away; Apartment 1-I. I’m calling my hits and going to sleep. Poet’s going with me, and I’m assuming Pack will, too. You two are welcome to join us.”
…
“This is unbelievable”, Pack laughed as he plunged onto a large bed with a beautiful magenta bed sheet; “We’re actually safe for once!”
“Don’t get too settled in”, Kirkley remarked. “We still need to leave.”
“What in the wet sack of Su and Sat are you talking about, brother?” Pack exclaimed. “We’ve made it to a place where those things can never bother us again.”
“That’s what an uncountable amount of ancient societies believed, prior to their enemies arriving and destroying them. My point is that we can crash here for a couple of days, and then we need to find a map; find a route that will take us to the port; and get our asses aboard a boat so we can sail onwards towards the European mainland.”
“Well what if there isn’t a boat available?” Pack skeptically asked.
“Then we will find another way.”
…
As Kirkley and the others woke up from a long, well-deserved and badly-needed sleep, they heard the static of a loudspeaker announce, “Alright, citizens and survivors, head down to the military mess hall in the department store for a 2-hour long breakfast buffet.”
“Fuck yeah!” Hannah laughed, “Time to get some food! You think they have bacon?”
“If they do, I’m surprised that the wolf men haven’t made a mad dash into the city to raid the kitchens”, Kirkley chuckled.
“Hey, I’ll take all of those fucking failed abortions on with my bare hands to get some fucking bacon!” Hannah snarled. “Now get your clothes on now!”
Seeing Hannah so happy and energetic really brought a smile on Kirkley’s face. He had f
ound his soul mate, and had watched her progress as she went from being almost entirely dark, antagonistic and stoic to having a bit more joy in her heart. Her wild craving for bacon really displayed this, and gave Kirkley a wonderful feeling that they had finally found a peaceful paradise. As he struggled to catch up with Hannah, he felt somewhat ashamed of himself for being so pessimistic and believing that all hope was forever lost. Earlier, he was out in the wilderness struggling for survival and battling fear, hunger, paranoia, and a deprivation of sleep. And now, he was surrounded by friendly British soldiers who decided to hold the line and stand up for others. But he couldn’t worry about that now.
After a few minutes of running down to the department store that was being used as a mess hall, they all got to the buffet line, where an assortment of wonderful breakfast foods were lined up before them. Waffles, omelets, cereal, bran flakes, and of course, bacon; all were but a fraction of the delicacies .
“So how do they provide us with such edible food?” Kirkley asked to the woman standing beside him.
“They’ve got farms in parts of the cities. Those places are locked down tight to prevent the wolf soldiers from breaking in and eating all of the critters”, the woman explained.
“Sounds like a pretty good post-apocalyptic system you guys have going on”, said Pack.
As Kirkley and Pack chatted with the woman about some of the different amenities in the military-held section of London, Hannah continued to load her plate with food, but in an act of kindness, as well as remembering how Kylie was stuck in the infirmary, Hannah also began taking a little extra food for her friend. It was at this moment that two large men came over to her, and from the looks on their faces, Hannah immediately felt concerned and uneasy.