“Oi! It’s touch, you dickhead,” Boss shouted.
The older boy looked over at him. “Oh look, it’s hopping Virgil. Come to save your little boyfriend?” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm.
“Leave it out, Tyler. He’s only eight.”
“Whatever. Game’s finished anyway,” Tyler scoffed.
Boss looked left and right, taking in the other players. A couple of them were shuffling their feet. He spotted Beth striding over to George. She bent down and hauled him up, brushing off the sand. She looked at Boss, smiling. Her sparkling blue eyes sent a flutter through his stomach.
Beth turned to Tyler and whacked him on the arm. “He’s just a kid. You always have to ruin the game, don’t you?”
“Yeah, whatever, you guys are all soft anyway.”
Boss was relieved to see Tyler storm off, his two cohorts following. They feinted a couple of punches at the other players as they left, their cackling laughter echoing out over the water.
Boss shook his head. What was Tyler’s problem, smashing into George like he was some big South African rugby player? Bullies always got on his nerves. Bigger kids throwing their weight around, physically and mentally torturing everyone around them. Did they have to make everyone’s lives as miserable as theirs? He had hated school for that reason. All the cliques with all their little rules and dramas. Always so much drama.
Tyler was the only one who called him by his given name, Virgil. He cringed whenever he heard it. Boss often cursed his parents and their love of all things NASA.
Sighing, he pushed himself off the concrete wall.
“Hey G-man, you okay?”
George brushed some of the grainy-gold sand from his hair. “He’s so mean.”
Boss leant down and helped get more sand off George’s clothes. “I’m sorry, G-man. Some kids are just like that. Probably best to stay away, okay?”
“I guess. But I like playing rugby with the other kids,” George said. He kicked at the sand.
“I know, mate. Let’s go get some dinner, eh?” Boss glanced up at Beth, and his heart leapt in his chest. Plucking up courage, he smiled at her. “Umm, do you like… I mean would you…ummm—”
“I’d love to. Thanks,” Beth cut in, saving Boss from further embarrassment. Boss grinned at her. “Ah, thanks for your help back there, by the way.”
“No probs. Can’t have that idiot doing that.”
The trio made their way over to the mess hall nestled next to the hotel. Boss could see the old restaurant name, “Obsidian”, painted across the facade. The smell of frying fish made his stomach rumble. He licked his lips.
Boss leant back in his chair, stretching out his tired back muscles. Ever since he’d recovered from his injury, he found it difficult to sit for very long. Doc had explained that it was to do with him relying on his good leg all the time, and that once he fitted the prosthetic it should improve.
Prosthetic! Bugger.
Boss looked around the restaurant for the doctor. He couldn’t see him. He waved at Beth, getting her attention. “Can you watch George? I’ve got to visit Doc. He wants to test my prosthetic tonight.”
“Sure, no probs. See you in the games room after?”
“Yeah, definitely. I’ve got to keep my streak going with Six.”
Boss hobbled along the path his crutches clicking on the concrete. Movement out in the bay caught his eye. A large luxury yacht was churning its way past the moored boats, and he could see a dozen or so other motor boats strung out behind it. Survivors? Six must have found some survivors and directed them here. He stood watching for a bit before entering the infirmary, admiring the sleek lines of the silver and black yacht.
The smells of antiseptic and disinfectant filled the air as he scanned the room.
“Ah, there you are.”
Boss smiled at the doctor. He was a kindly man with glasses perched on his nose and his receding hair combed back. A keen birdwatcher, it was a crazy bit of luck that he was on the island during the early days of the Variant outbreak.
“Hey Doc, sorry I’m late. Went to dinner and forgot.”
Doc looked over his glasses at him. “Beth?”
“Yeah,” Boss said, his eyes cast at the floor.
Doc patted him on the shoulder. “No harm, no foul. You’re here now, eh? Now let’s see if this fits.”
Boss watched, intrigued, as Doc removed the bandage on his stump, checking his handiwork. “A little red, but that’s normal.”
He rolled a soft, fluffy sock-like bandage over the stump, causing Boss to wince slightly. Then Doc grabbed the prosthetic, nestled the leather cup onto Boss’s stump and tightened the straps.
“How does that feel, young man?”
Boss looked down at his prosthetic. One of the soldiers had welded a couple of metal pipes together from an old bike. Three smaller pieces of metal tubing were welded to it as support struts. “Okay, I guess. Can I try it out?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Doc nodded.
Boss slid off the examination bed and tentatively put weight on his new leg. The leather cup pushed into his stump, and tingles raced up his spine.
“It’s going to take a while to get used to,” Boss said. He gestured to his crutches. “But better than those things!”
“I think we’ll give your leg a bit more time to heal, then you can wear it for short periods. It will take a while young man.”
“Okay. Thanks, Doc,” Boss said.
“You’re welcome. I’m proud of you, son. You’ve done a remarkable job recovering from such a horrific injury. I can only imagine the horrors you saw out there.”
“Yeah, it was bad. Dee helped me a lot.”
“Yes, yes. Good company and friends always help.”
Boss made his way around the infirmary, gingerly testing his prosthetic. He glanced out the window towards the games room, eager to meet up with his friends.
The bark of gunfire stopped him in his tracks. More gunfire answered, gathering in urgency. Boss frowned. The wail of the siren wound up, echoing around the bay. He shivered as he realised what was happening.
The camp was under attack!
He exchanged a look with Doc. Boss saw the fear in Doc’s eyes.
“Get to the bunker!”
Doc nodded and gathered a medical kit before racing out the back door. Boss flung open the front door and looked out at a scene of utter chaos.
The luxury yacht had moored at the jetty, easily dwarfing the other boats in the harbour. Hundreds of Variants were pouring over the sides, flinging themselves at the soldiers, who were firing into the rolling mass of terror. More Variants swarmed off the smaller boats, fighting, tearing, scrambling over each other to get onto the yacht and beyond, to their human prey.
Boss pulled the Glock 17 from his holster and looked up at the villa, cursing himself for sleeping in and forgetting his go-bag that morning. He looked left and right down the boardwalk, indecision freezing him. Would Beth have taken George to the games room? Boss hobbled down the boardwalk, his new leg clicking on the concrete as he gathered pace.
Only one way to find out.
— 5 —
Dee stirred the soup in the aluminium billy, watching the thick red liquid bubble. The acidic smell of the tomatoes made her lick her lips. She hadn’t eaten a decent meal for a couple of days. She could hear Ben and the gunners Jones, Eric and Tony, rustling about as they packed up the rest of the camp. What were the odds of Eric and Tony having the same surname? Even at the end of the world, it was common. Well, at least I don’t have to keep up with them. Dee smiled to herself at her little joke. Jack would have liked that one. Thinking of Jack, she hummed a few bars of their favourite song, Freebird. On a normal Saturday, she and Jack would be settling in, watching a movie, with Jack adding little facts as she enjoyed the warmth of his body pressed against hers. She loved watching movies with Jack; the sheer joy they brought him amazed her. His eyes would light up as each scene played out on the screen. He would grin and l
ook at her, watching to see her excitement. He would cheer as Ripley swung her flamethrower over the xenomorph eggs, cooking them. He would cry as E.T. left Elliot and soared into the sky, leaving a rainbow. He would laugh as Baby learnt her dance moves. Movies were his thing, and now they were gone.
Dee sighed, stood up and stretched. She was looking forward to getting some sleep tonight. Ben’s radio squawked. He flicked his eyes up at her, a flash of surprise dancing across his face.
“Ahh, Ben, receiving? Over,” Jack said.
“Receiving.”
“Possible bogies spotted. Bearing north north east. Over.”
Ben glanced at Dee before turning and looking out to sea. She followed his gaze and strained to peer through the falling drizzle. She gasped. Three ships were cutting through the choppy sea towards the island.
What the hell?
Ben spun around. “Dee, put that fire out, now! Jones, lights out!” Dee could tell from the stern tone that he meant business. Gone was the friendly, wise man. The hardened former NZ SAS soldier took over. The joking and backchat from the Joneses vanished as they quickly switched off all the lights and crouched down behind their gear. Ben raised the radio back to his lips. “Jack?”
“Receiving.”
“Go dark. And stay put. Maintain radio silence. Over.”
“Wilco, out.”
Ben crouched down next to Dee. “Eric, get me eyes on those ships. I want to know whose they are. They’re not allies, that’s for sure.”
Eric nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
Ben turned his attention to Tony. “Get Colonel Mahana on the horn. Let him know what’s going on and tell him that damn radar still isn’t operational.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dee, break camp. We’re going to have to hightail it back to the FOB.”
She gave him a curt nod and started packing away the camp stove. She shovelled a few spoons of soup into her mouth and tipped out the rest. Dee hated seeing the food go to waste, as it had become an ever-increasing luxury. She listened as Ben spoke softly to Eric.
“What do you see, Gunner? Give me details.”
There was a pause, so long that Dee thought Eric hadn’t heard Ben.
“Two frigates and one cruiser, maybe a corvette. No markings, no numbers, no lights, Sir. They’re sailing dark. Bearing straight for us.”
“Tony, give me that radio.” Ben walked the few steps to him and spoke into the long-distance radio. The rain was getting heavier, making it difficult for Dee to hear the conversation.
Eric helped take the tarpaulin down. Some of the collected rain tipped over Dee, running down the inside of her raincoat. The icy water made her shiver. Thoughts of standing under a nice warm shower and a decent sleep, were now forgotten.
Dee snapped the last clasps shut on her pack and checked that her rifle was loaded and safety on. She patted her side, feeling for the Glock and knife. She looked at her katana tucked into the back webbing of her pack, and smiled. There was no way she was going anywhere without it. That katana had saved her life many times over. Something deep down inside told her that it had a bigger role to play.
“Jack?” Ben said. He turned and eyeballed Dee as well as Eric and Tony.
Static buzzed, mingling with the noise of the rainfall.
“Receiving.”
“Right. Listen up, Renegades. Radar is down. We have unfriendly ships coming in. I suspect from the class they are Indonesian. Why they are here, we don’t know, so for now they are to be treated as hostile. Colonel Mahana has ordered us down the mountain. We are to proceed to Kiwiriki Bay where a chopper will extract us. We shall then proceed to Mayor Island where we are to improve the fortifications in case of hostilities. Jack, stay put. We are coming to you. In the interim, plot the most direct route to the LZ. We have 90 minutes. Understood?”
A chorus of “Yes, sir” answered.
“Move out, soldiers.”
Dee gave Ben a tight-lipped smile as she hoisted her pack onto her shoulders and positioned her weapons. She tried to adjust her raincoat to keep the cold rain from dripping down her neck, but after a few attempts she gave up and concentrated on keeping her feet from slipping on the rocks scattered along the mountain pass.
Here we go again.
***
Jack stretched out his tired legs as he waited for the other Renegades to reach his position. He watched the approaching Indonesian Navy ships warily, their silhouettes looming ever closer to the island. The whole situation bothered him. If it was indeed the Indonesians, why the hell were they here in New Zealand? The mainland was gone, overtaken by the Variants. He had heard rumours of failed operations the Americans had attempted to eradicate the Variant hordes from the vast landmass of the continental United States. Jack tugged on his ear and wiped some of the rain off his neck.
Musing over his concerns, Jack pulled out his map of the mountain and double-checked the route he had found. He remembered a hiking trip to Great Barrier Island some years ago. Some gloriously sunny days had been spent exploring the old timber trails. The island had a rich history in logging kauri trees, and the hardy loggers had left some long-forgotten trails snaking their way down rocky valleys. The kauri tree was a much-prized piece of timber. Tall, straight, and strong, it soared above the other trees in the forest. Now only a few pockets remained, standing as they always had, sentinels, watching the world. Jack could just imagine when Captain Cook and his crew first saw the majestic trees. They’d immediately valued them for masts on their tall ships. He shook his head at the short-sightedness of the early settlers and their relentless pursuit of the timber.
So few of the trees remain…a bit like us.
Jack risked a quick flash of his light to check he had the correct compass bearing. He secured his map away and took up a covering position, overlooking the trail.
His heart skipped a beat as he recognised the petite frame of Dee emerging out of the darkness, her katana poking out from her pack and her rifle slung on her shoulder within easy reach. Their eyes met, and Jack couldn’t help but grin. Those eyes gazing at him always softened his mood, picking him up when he needed it most.
Dee grasped his hand. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” Jack drew her into an embrace, kissing her on the nape of her neck. “I’m sorry about being a grumpy.”
“Doofus. It’s us till the end, remember?” Dee said, kissing him back.
“Yeah, I know.” He smiled at her as he disengaged from the hug.
Jack gazed back down the track as the Joneses joined them. Ben brought up the rear, his long beard slinking out of the night like a glow worm waiting for its prey. Jack tilted his head in acknowledgement, meeting his gaze.
“What have you got for us?”
“I found us an old logging trail. It cuts down through the valley before meeting up with that river we crossed. That should take us to Kiwiriki Bay and the LZ.” Jack used his elbow to indicate the direction he was talking about.
“Nice work,” Ben said. He clasped Jack’s shoulder. “You’ll make a good ranger yet.”
Ben faced the other Renegades. “All right. We maintain radio discipline and keep our torches off. When we get to the valley floor, we can switch them on. Tread carefully, Renegades. I don’t want any injuries or delays. And be ready for any hostiles, human or Variant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do the lovebirds want to get a nice room first?” Tony said, smirking.
Dee punched him on the shoulder. “Leave it.”
Tony grabbed her arm and twisted it. Dee pivoted around, sweeping her leg out. The muscled soldier tumbled to the ground, surprise on his face. She stood over the now-prone gunner. “I know you and Eric want one, but it will have to wait.”
Jack barked out a laugh and grinned at his wife. The other Renegades joined in. The muscled Tony was no match for Dee’s speed.
Still chortling at Dee’s witty remark, Jack adjusted the rifle on his shoulder and moved past the Joneses to the front, with D
ee following behind. He turned his head, looking Ben in the eyes.
Ben gave him a quick nod. “Lead on, McDuff.”
Jack turned and trudged into the gloom. The Renegades followed silently.
— 6 —
The chaotic sounds of the battle bounced between the buildings as Boss raced towards the games room. He scanned left and right, searching for Variants, his Glock 17 held up like Ben had taught him. He reached a corner and peered around it.
A square of light shone on the ground and shadows of figures danced in the open window.
Boss peered through the darkness towards the front of the building, hunting for the Variant threat he knew was there. So far the creatures had eluded him.
The constant booms of gunfire were rattling him. He took some deep breaths and adjusted his new leg, trying to find a comfortable spot. It was throbbing after only a few moments. He should have grabbed his crutches; now was really not the time to test out his prosthetic.
Boss looked once more at the window and went through the actions in his mind. He pushed off with his good leg and ran to the window. He knocked the gun against the glass and peered in. One of the figures, a little girl, turned and, seeing him, ran over. Boss mimed for her to open the window, but the girl looked back at him, terror across her cherub face. She shook her head. Peering deeper into the room, he saw Beth’s blonde hair. He rapped louder on the window, praying she would hear.
As he waited, Boss struggled to grasp what was happening. After a month of peace and solitude, his world had come crashing down again. He thought he’d left the monsters behind on that mountain. He had paid for his escape with his lower leg cruelly ripped away. If the chopper hadn’t arrived, and if courageous George hadn’t stabbed his little screwdriver into the Trophy King’s eye, he wouldn’t be standing here now.
Boss looked up and slammed his gun against the glass, cracking it. Finally Beth heard and grasped the shoulders of the children next to her, guiding them towards the window.
Extinction New Zealand Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 21