"Fuel?”
"We have ample," assured Blade.
"Weapons and ammunition?”
"Enough for this campaign and many more.”
"Food?”
"Enough to begin with and we can gather from the spoils as we go," assured the enforcer.
"And for my Mutants?”
"The freezer wagons are full and we will be creating fresh stocks once we hit Fort London," reminded Blade
Bruger simply nodded, his eyes remaining locked on the sea of humanity below him. “Our destiny awaits us Blade, there is nothing that can stand in our way, nothing.”
Blade watched his leader turn and walk away, his guard dog’s close on his heels. He had now completely bought into Bruger’s vision, was fully seduced by his lust for war and was beginning to believe, as his leader did, that there was no power on this earth that could stand before them. But then as he turned and looked down over the massed army, a cold breeze whipped across him causing an involuntary shiver to run through him and in that instant the shadow of doubt passed over him. He immediately expelled it with an exaggerated snort of bravado as he stared with stinging eyes to the southern horizon. A massive show of strength and raw power would dominate this campaign, of that Blade was confident and he was perfectly correct apart from one vital misconception, that a show of strength and power was going to be coming at them, not created by them.
#
Time 6pm GMT 1pm New York Time.
It took the two coaches four hours to make the journey from Southampton to Fort London. Three times they were halted by large roaming swarms, three times they had to cut a path through them. By the time they came within sight of the Fort their nerves were shredded and each of the eighty five souls on board needed to feel its safe embrace. They were about to be left wanting. As they came to a halt at one of the Fort’s main entry gates, which would take them into the Mile End Road, they came face to face with their worst fear, the gate was wide open. WDs were wandering freely in and out, packs of dogs were circling around scraps of what used to be human beings, teeth bared, snarling and snapping yet ignoring the WDs.
"Try the radio again," whispered Anderson, unable to drag his eyes away from the vision that had haunted so many of his nightmares, Fort London had been breached.
"Nothing Craig," responded Tom after three attempts. He'd been trying since the previous day to raise FL but since the last transmission they had received on the night they arrived at Southampton, not a word had been received.
"OK, let’s move inside," instructed Anderson. As the two coaches crept through the gates the full scale of the breach became clear. WDs were roaming in their hundreds and had they not kept the buses moving they would have quickly become bogged down within a swarm.
"Come in Tom," came a scratchy voice suddenly over the radio set.
"Kitchen Man?” responded Anderson, snatching up the handset.
"Good to hear your voice Craig. How did the evacuation go?”
For the next ten minutes Anderson gave the nut and bolt of what had taken place over the last twenty four hours, the sinking of the Cruise ship, of The Preacher stuck aboard the Destroyer and the chaos at Southampton that forced him to leave the populace to fend for themselves. In return Kitchen Man handed over to Pump who gave an equally horrifying catalogue of events that culminated in virtual tribal warfare as factions formed rapidly, each with their own conspiracy theory that drove deep divisions between them. Fighting was inevitable, many left looking to join Bruger. Others just wanted to turn their anger onto Steve Knight and Pump. Bleeds became common place leaving Pump little choice but to take refuge in Sector 12 with just over two thousand other souls.
"What happened to the Comms?" asked Anderson. "We've been trying to reach you for twenty four hours.”
"Lost everything when an armed mob took over part of Steve's offices at the Barbican," replied Kitchen Man. “Been struggling to patch something together with a pile of crap ever since. What we have is a very short distance set up that only picked you up as you entered the Fort.”
"There's something else you need to know," spoke Anderson as the coaches headed over to sector 12.
"You’re using that tone," replied Pump nervously. "I hate that tone.”
"No biggie," replied Anderson casually. "Just that the Americans are sending a few Galaxy Transporters over at noon tomorrow to pick up three thousand of our people and we have to get the City airport ready in time for them to land.”
For several seconds there was just the sound of static on the line. “I think when you get here Cap, you need to go lie down in a dark room."
"It's happening," came in Tom. "Craig hasn't flipped." Tom went on to describe President Nelson's proposal including his honesty that the rescue mission could not even be guaranteed to succeed.
"City airport is over three miles away from here," cut in Steve Knight’s voice. "There are probably a million WDs and Mutants between us and that airstrip, an airstrip that, the last time I saw it, was strewn with damaged aircraft and broken down vehicles. You couldn't land a toy helicopter on that airstrip let alone six galaxys that may," Knight paused for a beat," or may not actually reach us.”
It was Anderson's turn to remain silent. It gave him time to hear again the President’s warning inside his head. " I understand your frustration but this is a last throw of the dice operation Craig, and I will not lie to you, we are using aircraft that have not flown for some time and using fuel gathered from every reserve we have so I can't even guarantee we will reach you.”
"It can't be done," came Knight’s firm voice breaking into those thoughts.
"It can't not be done," snapped Anderson. "The clock is running down Steve and we have nowhere, I repeat nowhere else left to go.”
Once again there was an extended silence, "So......that was noon?”
"Noon," responded Anderson quietly.
"God help us,” whispered Knight.
#
Time 6.28pm GMT 1.28pm New York Time.
Hog and Bryan had to make several detours on their journey back to their stronghold. Unlike the coaches they could not smash their way through clusters of WDs. On one occasion they had to take the Harley up the out slope of a multi-storey and exit through the in ramp to escape a group of thirty Mutants who came at them out of a side street screaming like banshees and moving like a pack of hyenas. It was by far the largest gathering of Mutants they had come across and gave them a terrifying glimpse of what the future had in store for them. There was a further shock as they turned the final corner that brought their old stronghold into view, the heavy Gauge fencing surrounding the stronghold had been flattened in several places and a swarm of some five hundred WDs were roaming the interior of the stronghold and the street outside.
"Suggestions?” asked Hog turning his head to Bryan on the pillion.
"We could surround them," snorted his friend.
Hog let out the barrel laugh that Bryan had heard so many times, immediately the WDs on the outer fringes turned in their direction and sniffed the air. "Oh shit," hissed Hog, "We got about three minutes to decide our next move.”
Bryan tapped him on the shoulder and pointed towards the stronghold. "Take a look at the warehouse doors, the chain and lock are still in place.”
Hog screwed up his eyes to confirm for himself. "Great, we'll just stroll over there and let ourselves in then shall we Bri?”
"Lowest form of wit Hog but.....yeah, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
"This better be good, you got about two minutes to sell me your plan," warned the Angel leader, eyeing the closing front runners.
"We need a diversion, something to draw the swarm away so I can get to the padlock." Bryan waved the key he still had in front of Hog’s eyes. "If that lock’s in place there is no way they could have breached the building. We get in there, get the chopper fired up, go get The Preacher."
"How the hell do we drag it outside once we do that?" argued Hog. “And what the hell kind
of diversion you talking about?”
"Look.....firstly we get inside and worry about how we get the chopper to a lift off position afterwards and secondly, you’re the diversion," grinned Bryan.
"Me?” yelled the giant Angel.
"All you need to do is run down the road screaming your head off and that swarm will follow you like bees after honey."
"No shit," barked Hog. "And what the hell are you gonna be doing while I'm playing pied piper?”
"Soon as you get the swarm chasing after you I will ride into the compound, pop the lock and get the bike inside. Soon as I yell, you double-back and leg it in with me.”
"I don't do running," complained Hog, “how about you do it and I'll pop the lock?”
"You’re younger," retorted Bryan.
"Yeah and I plan to get older," snapped the Angel.
"Then run fast," suggested Bryan.
"I ain't doing it," warned Hog as the first WD closed to twenty feet. “Anyway you’re a lot lighter than I am," tried Hog, slapping his ample gut.
"Exactly," snapped Bryan jabbing a finger at Hog’s stomach. "You could do with the exercise," he challenged, climbing off the pillion. "Alternative is," he sighed grimacing, "we leave The Preacher on that Destroyer and that.... is not an option. Now get your fat ass off that bike and let’s get this done.”
For another five seconds Hog sat there with his arms folded like a petulant child. Suddenly he kicked down the stand and climbed off the still running machine and grabbed Bryan by the shirt front, "You had better get that door open damn quick when I'm on the way back." Without another word he took off down the street screaming at the top of his voice and waving his arms around gathering the attention of the massed WDs.
Bryan grinned as he shouted after him, "Run Forrest, run.”
The giant Angel waved a single finger in the air without breaking stride. Bryan watched as the swarm gelled as a mass and moved at WD pace after the screaming man. After thirty seconds Bryan swept through the open gates of the compound up to the doors of the warehouse that housed the helicopter. Working quickly he opened the padlock and swung the door inwards. Climbing back onto the Harley, he rode through into the cavernous warehouse, parked and ran back to the door. “Hog," he yelled at the top of his voice, "We're in.”
Fifty metres in the distance he saw the overweight Angel lumbering up the middle of the road weaving from side to side to easily dodge the stragglers of WDs and even though he was clearly flagging he was around forty metres ahead of the lumbering swarm behind him. "Come on Hog just a short run to go, you’re gonna make it with room to spare," encouraged Bryan, but that assessment changed in a heartbeat as a flash of movement from the swarm sent his pulse racing. Three Mutants came tearing through the WDs, their trademark screeching sending a shiver down his spine.
Chapter 30
"Let me toss a couple of grenades"
Time 6.30pm GMT 1.30pm New York Time.
The two coaches arrived at sector 12. Just five minutes after entering, Anderson and his key troops were sat with Steve Knight discussing the mission that lay before them.
"Sooo.....just to re-cap," sighed Knight wearily, wiping a hand down his face. "We have to get a work force over to the City Airport, which although part of Fort London, has been lost to the WDs and if my memory serves me right is in a condition, the last time I saw it, where you would have trouble landing a model plane on the runway. We then have to prepare it for six Galaxys, that may or may not be arriving from the USA, and all the while keeping at bay the swarms of WDs and Mutants that we know will be on the rampage. Now add to this the fact that we know Bruger is intending to march on Fort London plus the maniac has a bloody Destroyer roaming around the coast and this mission starts to look a bit of an uphill struggle, Craig. Oh and one last thing, we sent virtually every vehicle that would roll with you to Southampton so on the off chance we are able to achieve all of the above, how the hell," the Fort President’s voice was rising steadily, mostly from fear, "are we going to get two thousand people through the swarms and over to City Airport?”
"You say it like that," winced Tom, "and it does seem a bit tricky.”
"Tricky?" yelled Knight, rising from his chair. “Bloody tricky, your plan is not an option.”
"Not an option?" shouted Anderson, wheeling on the Fort London president. "Maybe you could just run us through the others so we can have a vote Steve," barked the frustrated man, closing on his long-time friend, causing him to take a step back, "because the last time I checked....options were a bit thin on the ground.”
A charged silence descended over the group before Knight found his voice, a voice that was a lot quieter, a voice that reflected the difficulty the Fort London President had in accepting Anderson’s truth. "We....we could start again here at Sector 12, rebuild, it...it could be a new beginning.”
Anderson stepped up to the man he had served for so long in their struggle to create and maintain the sanctity of Fort London and placed a hand gently onto his shoulder. "Steve, it's over," he said quietly. “It’s over.”
"But.....but…" Knight’s voice trembled and faded as he took in the shaking head of his security chief, his shoulders sagging as acceptance of his words struck home.
Anderson led the broken man to his chair and gently sat him down. Turning to his troops he took control. "Tom, I need you and Bull to take care of our transport problem that Steve quite rightly pointed out. I have a plan that will get our people to City Airport.”
Tom and Bull exchanged wary looks. "We have over two thousand people here Craig, we don't have enough vehicles to cater for that number.”
"That’s why we are taking the underground," informed Anderson calmly.
The entire gathered group exchanged confused looks. Eventually Tom spoke, "You know...for a minute there Craig, I could have sworn you said we were taking the underground?”
"Correct. We are going to take a tube train from Bank, just a short hop from here, change at Canning Town and get onto the light railway that will take us directly into City Airport."
"You want I could call up information to check on times?" snorted Bull.
"No," replied the SAS man. "I want you and Tom to find the remnants of the tunnel rats and tell them what we need.”
"I thought we wiped them out in the battle to save Hope at Kings Cross Station?”
"Most of them," replied Anderson. "Plus the WDs did quite a clear out, but a number survived and reinstated themselves in tunnels at Old Street Underground Station. Also rumour has it that they have use of a generator that could potentially put out enough juice to power a train."
Tom shook his head. "This is all a bit shaky Craig, a lot of ifs in there, if they have a generator, if it could power a train, if they are willing to do what we are asking.”
"I'll answer your last question first Tom. We're not asking, you’re taking Bull and a dozen of our best with you and, as they say in the movies, making them an offer they can't refuse. As to the other ifs, we have no other eggs in our basket so let’s hope the chickens have been laying or two thousand odd people won't be making the trip. Now I'll be leaving in the next five minutes and heading for City Airport with the rest of the team and doing what needs to be done to get that runway open ready for the Galaxys.”
"If...... they arrive," whispered Steve Knight.
Anderson shot him a warning look but said nothing, turning to his second in command instead. “Tom I need you to move and move now. This needs to get done."
Tom lifted himself from his chair, nodded once to his long-time friend and marched briskly out of the room with Bull close behind him.
"OK," continued Anderson now in full flow. “Pump, you and Spider get one of the coaches ready and twenty of our best troops on board, we leave in four minutes." Pump and Spider trotted from the room.
"Saphire," he continued, turning to the Angel sat with Hope and Andrew, "I need you and Hog....." Anderson stopped in mid flow. "Where's Hog?”
The Angel turned
uncomfortably in her seat. "He um..... he said to tell you if you asked that he had to slip back home to get his slippers.”
Anderson snorted. "So basically he told you not to tell me?”
Saphire made to answer but stopped when Anderson held up his hand. "Look...I don't have time for games right now Saphire can you please watch over Hope for me." He smiled looking to the sleeping child with her head resting on Andrew’s lap, his hand resting on her head. The Mutant was making progress by the hour, Anderson knew that within this creature's, no...this man's, blood stream the virus was being beaten and Andrew along with Hope were the future for mankind. The SAS man squatted down by the side of the child, took a moment and gently stroked her cheek feeling the warm breath of her steady breathing stroking his skin.
As he went to rise, Andrew placed a hand over his and looked from still bloodshot eyes into Anderson’s, his cracked lips struggling to form a stuttering word, “Tttttrust me."
Anderson studied the man who was clearly winning the battle with the plague for there was no further snarling, no sniffing the Pure and only the odd lip curling as anyone walked past. It was vital that Andrew made it to the States with Hope, vital that whatever flowed in their bloodstreams was harvested and used to end this curse. Anderson lifted himself and headed for the door. Reaching it, he stopped, looked to Andrew, nodded once and called out, “I trust you," turned and walked out the door.
#
6.45pm GMT 1.45pm New York Time.
Bryan jumped back onto the Harley, still chugging away, and shot out through the still open warehouse door. He decided he would have to take a chance that no WDs would enter and roared up the road towards the panting form of Hog who sped up as he glanced over his shoulder to see the three Mutants closing the distance, their hunger lust screams a chilling sound putting extra speed in the Angel’s tired legs. Bryan was a proficient rider, as he came to within twenty feet of the lumbering Angel he manoeuvred the bike into a sideways skid ending just feet in front of Hog who leapt onto the pillion facing backwards just as the three Mutants leapt at the bike. Reaching down, Hog pulled free the pump action shotgun from its sleeve jacking a cartridge into the chamber as he swung it up. At that same instant the first Mutant came screaming at him from a flying leap coming to an abrupt halt as Hog blasted him, removing most of the right hand side of his head. The second Mutant got a hand on the back rack of the bike as Bryan twisted hard on the throttle, sending the bike surging back towards the warehouse only now they had a screaming creature in tow. Hog pumped another round into the chamber and looked down at the snarling creature who clung on despite the fact that the flesh was being shredded from its legs as they were dragged over the tarmac. "Care to let go now pal?” barked the Angel. "Didn't think so," he said after just a beat and shot the Mutant, as he looked up, from inches away.
Bravo Two Zombie (Book 3): The Final Solution Page 24