Jack lifted up the metal case Katherine had given to him. “This is for the Colonel. I didn’t want to give it to the Indonesian pilot. In all the confusion yesterday, I forgot about it.”
Ben took it off Jack and shook his head, looking down at it. “All that madness, for what’s in here. It better be bloody worth it.” He turned, handing it to Sergeant Hollis. “Secure this in the bunker.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Dee watched him jog off. Then, looking up at Ben, she smiled. “Do you think we have a chance today, Ben?”
He glanced between her and Jack. “We’ve survived, guys. Against all the odds, we’ve survived this far. All we can do now is try. Try to save the boys, and with the new intel Alice provided about the camp, save them too. We’ll always have a chance.” He paused and grasped Jack’s shoulder. “What was it that Gimli said? ‘Certainty of death. What are we waiting for?’”
Jack grinned at Ben. “Yeah, something like that.”
“We fight on, guys. We survived the lab. Dee, we rescued Jack. Let’s go get the boys and bring them home.”
Dee adjusted the straps on her pack. “Whatever the outcome, if we lie dying and drawing our last breath, promise me something, Ben.”
“Okay. What?”
“That we’ll blow that bastard back to hell.”
Ben tilted his head back, letting out a deep chuckle. “That I can promise!” Then he thumped the side of the chopper. “Let’s go!”
Eric jogged over and jumped into the hold, slamming the door shut after them.
The whine of the engines rose as the blades started to wind up, thumping through the air. Some of the civilians had gathered on the boardwalk to watch them leave. As the chopper lifted off, Dee scanned the hold. Jack sat next to her, still holding her hand. Ben had moved forward and was in the co-pilot’s seat. Eric sat opposite them, alongside a soldier Dee didn’t know. He glanced up at her and gave her a nervous smile before shifting his attention back to the rifle cradled in his arms.
Dee looked down at the villa they called home. Alice and the kids had gathered on the verandah, and waved as the chopper rose up and banked away back over the ocean, back towards the hell the mainland had become. Back to free Boss and George. She had hugged Alice goodbye earlier, both women holding tight. Alice had pulled away, telling Dee to come back. Dee had avoided a movie reference; she’d just wanted to savour the moment with her friend. Even with all of Ben’s confidence, she was scared. Scared of what she would find. Scared of dying.
Dee didn’t know what happened when you died. Did you really go to heaven? Was it just blackness? If she did die and go to heaven, would her father be waiting for her? Dee reached down inside her, brushed away her doubts and questions and drew on the strength that she knew lay within. She had drawn on it, waiting in the basement for Jack. Now she needed it once more. She squeezed Jack’s hand, eager for his touch. She and Jack had had many late-night discussions on topics such as death. She had always admired his measured and considered responses. Jack acted all fun and joked around, but when he dropped the wall surrounding him, he could get very serious, and had an intelligent outlook on life. Dee let out a sigh. Yes, she was scared. Scared of losing it all.
Dee watched the view out the small window on the door as the chopper flew over the grey ocean. It stayed low as it swept over the beaches of Papamoa and continued inland, reaching the thick bush of the Mamaku ranges that surrounded the twin lakes of Rotorua. The blue lakes stood out, gleaming, surrounded by the city. Parts of the city were smoking. Dee didn’t know if it was from fires or from the geothermal vents dotting the land. She grabbed her seat as the chopper rose sharply, rising over the hills. Dee checked her watch: 11:20. She looked around for the Waikato River; it should be snaking its way below them. They rounded another pine-clad hill and the chopper dropped down the other side, keeping close to the ground. Jack squeezed her hand. The chopper banked again, sweeping down so they skimmed over the river.
Ben’s voice crackled over the headset. “ETA five minutes. Eric, get the explosives ready. Jack. Alan. Man the guns. Give them hell, people.”
Dee looked over at the soldier she didn’t know. Alan, apparently. He secured his rifle next to him and moved over to one of the 50 cal guns at the door.
Well, you’re not wearing a red shirt.
Eric moved over to her and handed her a couple of green brick shapes. Timers stuck into them read 2.00 minutes. Eric reached down and plugged two wires hanging loose into the tops of the bricks. “Press the red button before you chuck it out. That starts the timer.”
She nodded. Turning, she watched as Arapuni Dam came into view.
Ben’s voice crackled over the headset. “Drop the explosives on the roof of the turbine building. Jack, Alan, when the Variants come out, kill as many as you can.”
Dee looked up at Jack, meeting his gaze. It was time; time to end this.
The pilot banked around the dam, and the chopper descended down the concrete face. Steep limestone cliffs, with bushes clinging to every available nook, plunged down into the swirling river. Dee waited until the flat roof of the largest building came within view. She pushed down the red button and, checking to see the timer had started, hurled the explosive out, watching as it tumbled through the air and bounced along the roof, stopping against a large vent.
Variants started to pour out of the building, their shrieks just audible above the thumping of the chopper. Dee hated that sound. She pressed the button on her second explosive and tossed it out. It too flipped through the air and bounced off the lip of the vent, falling down inside. She grinned, satisfied.
The chopper lifted and banked away from the dam. Jack and Alan started firing the 50 cals, peppering the emerging Variants with leaded death. Dee watched, mesmerised, as the rounds tore into them, shredding their diseased flesh from their bones. They may be tough, but not enough for these guns. The brroootttt of the guns echoed around the cabin as the pilot pulled back, raising the chopper higher above the dam and the screeching Variants. Jack stopped firing his 50 cal and held on. The chopper hovered 100 metres above the river, downstream from the dam. A succession of explosions thundered out, first two close together, then two more quickly followed. The chopper rocked wildly as concrete, wood, steel, glass, and hunks of Variants flew out in a huge kaboom! Dee smiled as a blue metal shape flew out of the destroyed building, splashing down into the river.
Jack walked over and sat back down next to her. Touching her shoulder, he was grinning from ear to ear. “Did you see that? That blue thing was one of the turbines!”
“Is that what it was?”
“Yeah, it looked like it.”
“Your friend in Ohio would have loved that explosion.”
Jack cast his eyes downward before looking back at her. “Yeah, he would have. I hope he made it out.”
Dee reached out, taking Jack’s hand in hers. “I’m sure he has, Jack. Let’s hope the world gets back to normal and we can go visit all our friends one day.”
“I never thought I would live to see such times, Dee.”
“Me neither. I guess no one did. Do you remember that guy we met, who had spent his childhood in bomb shelters?”
“Yeah. He loved movies as much as I do.”
Dee kissed Jack on the cheek. “That’s right. I remember you two talking for hours, ignoring us girls. His girlfriend was so boring.”
Jack laughed, his laughter sounding weird as it echoed off the metal walls.
“I remember him telling us about that, Jack. He said he hoped he would never see such times again.”
Jack nodded his head, lost in thought.
Dee turned away and looked back out the window.
The chopper whined as it banked around Maungatautari Mountain. Dee’s thoughts drifted back a few weeks to that terrifying flight up the mountain, away from the Trophy King. She reached for her rifle and checked it was locked and loaded. She drew her Katana out from her pack, admiring how it felt in her hands. She slid it b
ack into the webbing and watched as Lake Karapiro stretched out in a long thin shape. She could just make out the rowing club and the dam in the distance.
Ben’s voice came over her headset. “Lock and load, Renegades. ETA two minutes. Whatever happens today, thank you for making this old soldier proud. Proud to call you fellow soldiers. Proud to call you friends. Let’s go kill these bastards!”
Dee glanced up at Ben. His long grey beard hung over his combat vest. She nodded.
Let’s kill these bastards!
TWENTY-SEVEN
The thumping of the approaching choppers thundered up the river as Maggie pressed herself into the ground. Quickly she positioned herself and sighted one of the guards through her scope. She glanced down river as two grey military choppers swung around the bend of the river, making directly for the hydroelectric station. Using the distraction, Maggie breathed out and gently squeezed the trigger. The guard’s head snapped back, and blood and brains coated the concrete wall behind him. She swung her rifle to the right, and dropped two more guards as they stared, stunned, as the choppers buzzed over the dam and attacked the village behind her.
Maggie’s stolen radio sprang to life, and desperate cries rang out. She ignored the radio and shot two more of the guards, wounding one and killing the other. That left two more, higher up. Maggie panned the rifle around, searching for the last two guards. One had begun to climb the ladder on the opposite side of the dam. Maggie shot him in the torso, then watched as his body tumbled down the ladder, bouncing off the metal rungs before smacking onto the roof. Maggie searched around for the last guard. Seeing no one, she jumped up and headed for the ladder closest to her.
The two choppers buzzed around the village, spraying it with 50 caliber rounds. The rounds tore into wood, metal, and flesh. To Maggie’s surprise, music pumped out from the buzzing choppers. She recognised the song, and allowed herself to smile for an instant. She dared to have hope again.
These guys are my kind of crazy.
Screams rang out, and panicked voices continued to chatter on the radio. To Maggie, it seemed the guards had no idea what to do. One chopper broke away and positioned itself over the narrow, single-lane road that stretched across the dam. Dozens of Variants poured out of the dam and into the bush on the western side. Maggie shook her head at the sight of them sprinting away from the battle. She deduced that the Variants were splitting their forces. Some would engage the choppers, while the others searched for the source of the earlier explosions.
The chopper was too low. As if the pilot read her mind, the chopper lifted just as several Variants leapt off the ground. Some clung to the wheel arches, while others clambered over them and sprang into the chopper. As the chopper rose higher, Maggie saw muzzle flashes as the soldiers inside desperately tried to kill the Variants. The chopper swung around and its tail rotor caught in the power lines. Maggie reached the ladder and grabbed the safety rail. Looking back, she watched, horrified, as the chopper spun out of control. The whine of its engines went up several octaves as the pilot tried to bring it back under control. But to no avail. It slammed onto the roadway, exploding in a fireball of glass and metal.
The main rotor blades broke free and spun out over the dam, slicing through dozens of Variants as they tried to fling themselves clear. Hunks of Variant muck spat out in a sickening arc. Acrid smoke from the burning chopper caused Maggie to cough. Mixed with the sickly rotten fruit smell of the Variants, it made her stomach turn. She gritted her teeth and descended the ladder.
“In the midst of chaos” all right, she thought as she jogged for the nearest door.
***
Boss snapped his eyes open. That sounded like a chopper. He had fallen into a melancholy as he lay crucified. He had failed to keep George safe, failed himself, and failed all those on the island. He had also failed his mother when he’d run away, leaving her to be eaten by his once-father. Glancing down at his missing lower leg, he grimaced. Yes. I even failed my body.
All around the nest, the resting Variants were waking up. A muffled boom rang out, shaking the bones he was crucified to. He looked over at Beth. Her head was lolled to one side and her eyes were squeezed shut. But as he watched, confusion spread across her face.
Boss turned his head, searching out George in the cage. He didn’t get a chance. The Trophy King sat up and bellowed, pointing a claw towards one of the exits. Boss watched, repulsed, as dozens of Variants emerged from under piles of bones and entrails — he couldn’t tell if the offal was human or animal — and headed for the exit. He gagged against the stench — freshly roused up by the Variants’ movements — invading his nostrils and tickling the back of his throat, as he tried to breathe without being sick.
He started to wriggle his right hand free. The pain from his efforts threatened to overcome him. Boss risked a peek at George, gathering strength from the sight of him lying curled up. The thumping of the choppers grew louder and, with a final surge of determination, he ripped his hand free. Pain shot up his arm, stabbing into his brain. He gasped for breath, ignoring the putrid taste that rode on the air. All around him, Variants were scrambling for the exits, shrieking as they scampered up the walls, squelching over the remains of their meals. Boss craned his neck and peered at the Trophy King. His back was turned towards Boss as he watched his beasts leaving the nest. Several of the larger Variants stayed behind with him.
The bone rack Boss was crucified on was angled back, allowing him to get some leverage. He reached up and tugged at his left hand, still nailed to the bone cross. As he tried to pry it loose, he searched for a weapon of some sort. He couldn’t see his pack anywhere. That would have been too lucky. He could see several discarded bones, though, some snapped in two with jagged edges. Knowing he had limited time to escape, Boss gritted his teeth and yanked hard on his hand. It jolted off the bone nail with a sickening, sucking sound. He couldn’t help the scream of agony that escaped his lips. He glanced towards the Trophy King, fearful of being discovered. The Trophy King still had his back to him.
Boss could feel his heart hammering away in his chest. With the arrival of the choppers, and the nest emptying of Variants, he dared to have the will to survive again. He didn’t know if that was Jack and Dee up above, but he knew that this was his only chance of getting himself, George, and Beth out of this hellhole. He could hear Dee’s voice in his head telling him to focus his energy, look for a way out. If the answer appears, act on it.
With his hands now free, Boss worked on freeing his foot. The bone through it was grating against his own bones, a most unpleasant sensation. Strangely, the wounds were not bleeding. He tried squatting down so he could leverage his foot off, but pain coursed up his body in ever increasing waves. He paused and risked another glance at the remaining Variants.
The thumping grew louder, drowning out the howls of the Variants. Then the rattling sound of rapid-fire machine guns rang out. Boss was thankful for the distraction, as the Trophy King both remained close to his throne and kept his back turned. He pushed his backside against the bone rack and finally, gritting his teeth, yanked his left foot free, slipping off the rack with a thud. He raised his head, looking at the Variants.
One had turned and was watching him. It shrieked and sprang through the air, claws curled, sucker mouth pulled back in a snarl. Frantic, Boss willed his good leg to move. He managed to bring it under him, then pushed off the ground and leapt for the broken shards of bones. Grasping one, he turned, holding it out before him. He felt like a Neanderthal facing down a saber tooth tiger. The Variant landed beside him and pinned his leg to the concrete floor. Boss stabbed out at it, but the Variant knocked his hand away and clenched its claw around his neck. Lifting him up, the Variant scurried over to the Trophy King, holding Boss out like he was a radioactive doll.
The Alpha glared at him with his cold yellow eyes. He bellowed at him, spittle flying onto his face, coating it with rancid slobber. Taking Boss from the Variant, he opened the cage next to his throne and crammed him in
side.
Boss’s lanky frame scraped against the bone bars. George scrambled up and huddled in the corner, cowering away from him. Boss used his remaining strength to reach out and pull him into a hug. George sobbed into his chest as Boss peered out, praying for the Renegades to hurry. He leant in next to George. “They’re coming for us, G-man. We have to be ready.”
He smiled, looking down at the bone spear he had managed to hold on to. I’d rather have my gun, but a spear is better than nothing.
TWENTY-EIGHT
The NH-90 helicopter banked around Maungatautari Mountain, then swooped down the bush line and out over the grey waters of Lake Karapiro. Jack grasped the hold bar, his knuckles white with the effort. He peered out the small window at the black smoke pouring from the roadway on the dam. A horde of Variants was running south towards Arapuni and the explosions they had set off there. He grinned. A few lifted their heads, watching the chopper fly overhead. He glanced over at Dee. She had a determined look on her face. Her eyes met his and she smiled at him. He leant over and kissed her neck.
Dee reached up and brushed his cheek. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Promise me something.”
“What?”
“When this is all over, can we watch The Goonies and eat hamburgers?”
“I thought you hated that movie?”
“I don’t hate it. You just watch it so much. But all that stuff seems irrelevant now. We need to enjoy and appreciate what time we have.”
Jack smiled and kissed her again. “If we survive this and get back to Mayor Island, you can watch whatever movie you want.”
“Even Dirty Dancing?”
Jack laughed and poked her in the ribs. “Yes, even that one.”
Dee grinned. “It’s funny. It all began here at Karapiro. Now let’s end it here.”
Jack nodded. Lifting his eyes, he watched Ben squeeze out of the cockpit and face them.
The Fourth Phase Page 20