by Brown, Ben
With that, both men headed off at a run.
Warrant officer, first class Mitchell’s voice woke Lieutenant Patrick Craig from his doze with a start. For the briefest of moments, he felt disorientated and dazed, but then reality kicked in. His hands went to his face and he tried to wipe away the fatigue of waiting.
“Report!” yelled Craig into his throat mike.
“Sir, I’ve spotted two figures heading this way. They’re on foot, but they’re moving fast.”
Suddenly wide-awake, Craig turned and looked in Mitchell’s direction. “Are they alive or are they dead?”
“I can’t be sure, sir, not at this range, but I’d say they’re from Archer’s team.”
Craig dashed over to Mitchell’s side and grabbed the binoculars from him. His subordinate was right. The two figures didn’t look like they belonged to The Lingering. The undead had a very distinctive way of moving. They lurched and staggered, even when moving at speed. The two now heading for them moved with a decisive determination, which only came from a fully functional brain and a heart filled with living blood.
Craig lowered the binoculars and handed them back to Mitchell. “I want a positive ID on those two. If they’re not part of Archer’s team, then deal with them.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
Craig turned and headed back towards the chopper. He saw the pilot staring at him, so he spun a finger in the air, signalling he should start his engines. The pilot gave him a thumbs-up, and the sound of the engines starting filled the air.
Craig turned back in the direction of the fast approaching pair, and wondered, If they were from Archer’s team, then where were the rest of them? What if the two had nothing to do with Archer? If that was the case, then who were they? And why would Westbourne send two men out on foot? It just didn’t make sense. No, they had to be part of the team they were waiting for. Nothing else added up.
“Sir,” it was Mitchell again. “I have a firm ID on the men, its Fairclough and Bouchard, but still no signs of the others.”
“Thank you, Mitchell. Keep them covered ‘til they get here.”
If the two men were on their own, then they weren’t going anywhere until he knew the whereabouts of the others. If the rest of the team were dead, then they would head back to the Singleton.
If, on the other hand, they’d been captured, then a full-blown rescue mission would result. Until he knew for sure which way the mission would go, he had to make sure the chopper conserved its fuel.
Craig turned back to the helicopter and ran a finger across his throat. The pilot, whose eyes had never left him, complied and cut the engines.
He turned his gaze back in the direction of the approaching men, and waited for their arrival.
Chapter 28
Location: emergency extraction point
Date: June 24th 2013
Time: 7:14 a.m.
Fairclough spotted him first. A young man in military fatigues had a gun levelled in their direction. However, he could tell by the elevation of the gun, that the man was offering them cover and posed them no threat.
“Looks like our welcoming committee hung around for us,” said Fairclough as he waved at the distant figure.
Bouchard followed Fairclough’s gaze, and saw someone returning his friend’s wave. “Thank ‘eavens for that, I didn’t think they would still be there.”
Both men increased their jog to a full run, and a minute or so later, they stopped beside the man they now recognized as WO1 Mitchell from the Singleton.
Fairclough extended his hand. “Damn good to see you again.”
Mitchell shook the extended hand with vigour, and said, “You too, sirs. Lt Craig is waiting for you by the chopper. He’s been pulling his hair out, so I wouldn’t keep him waiting too much longer.”
Fairclough patted the sailor’s shoulder and laughed, “Thanks for the heads up.”
The two headed towards the waiting chopper, where they saw an anxious looking Lt Craig waiting.
“Where are the others?” asked Craig as he headed to meet them.
“We’re it,” replied Fairclough. “We have two confirmed dead, and one MIA.”
“Archer?” asked Craig as he shook their hands.
“Dead, along with Dallas. Dr Bartholomew is missing,” replied Bouchard as he dropped to one knee and lowered his pack to the floor. A moment later he pulled out the device containing the sample he took from the ancient. He stood and held out the device to Craig.
“Take this back to the Singleton.”
Craig stared at the device with puzzlement. “What do you mean?”
Fairclough answered. “As Lucien said, Dr Bartholomew is missing, we intend on finding her.”
Craig’s eyes sprang wide with disbelief. “Are you both mad! You’ve already lost three of your team, returning to find the doctor would be suicide!”
Bouchard grabbed Craig’s hand and slammed the device into it. “That’s our decision to make, not yours!”
Craig’s gaze moved from Bouchard to Fairclough and back again, then he took the device and yelled, “Keen! Get over here!”
A young redheaded sailor suddenly appeared at his side. “I want you and Webb to offload all our gear, and give this to the pilot.” Craig handed him the device. "Tell him to get it back to the Singleton.”
“What are you doing?” asked Fairclough as the young sailor bolted for the chopper, and his waiting teammates.
“We’re coming with you. I had orders to ensure I offered you all the assistance I could, so that’s what I’m doing.”
Bouchard held up a large hand and protested, “This isn’t your fight. The mission parameters only stated the retrieval of the sample, you ‘ave that, so you can go.”
“And how would that look on my record,” snorted Craig, “abandoning men I was sent to rescue hardly reads well. No, we’re coming with you — end of story.”
Fairclough nodded towards the men and the boxes being unloaded from the chopper. “What you got there?”
Craig turned to look at the helicopter, then returned his gaze to the two in front of him. “C4, ammo, grenade launchers, the usual.”
Fairclough turned to his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We could do with their toys. Plus, the extra man power would come in handy.”
Bouchard looked at Craig, then the young sailors. “They look a little wet behind the ears.”
“They are,” interjected Craig, “but we could create a distraction while you and Fairclough find Dr Bartholomew, then we could offer you backup once you’ve found her.”
Bouchard nodded slowly. “Makes sense … okay, you and your men are in.”
Craig smiled. “Good, so what’s the plan?”
“As always, we’ll wing it,” replied Fairclough as he headed for the chopper, and the supplies. “First things first, we need to make sure we’re taking the right gear. If we carry too much, it’ll slow us down.”
It took a full twenty minutes for Fairclough and Bouchard to sort out all the weapons they wanted, in which time the chopper headed off with the sample from Prince Albert. Finally, the seven of them began the hike back to the ancients’ compound.
Fairclough, Bouchard and Craig all agreed the powers in charge of the compound must have discovered the presence of the disembowelled Albert by now, so their re-entry into the compound wouldn’t go as smoothly as before. However, this revelation did little to diminish the groups resolve. Come Hell or high water, they weren’t leaving Australia without Dr Bartholomew.
Chapter 29
Location: the corridor outside the ancient’s feeding zone
Date: June 24th 2013
Time: 9:47 a.m.
Mathew Samson stared down at the pile of viscera, which had once been Queen Victoria’s beloved husband, and his stomach turned. The smell emanating from the pile of putrid flesh was enough to bring tears to his eyes, and bile to his throat.
“So, should I inform Sir Richard? I know this one was his favourite.”
The events of the past few hours had caused him to rethink taking his promotion was a good idea. He knew Westbourne was a driven and ruthless businessman, but the things he had witnessed told a different story.
Westbourne was a psychopath who revelled in inflicting pain on others. He grimaced at the thought of what poor Dr Bartholomew was enduring at that very moment. However, her discomfort and pain were the least of his worries. He had to make sure he came out of this mess unscathed, which meant playing both sides.
If Westbourne won the day, then he would stay as his aid, and gradually climb the corporate ladder. However, what lay in the corridor suggested Archer’s team were far from out of the game, so he needed to cover his behind.
“No,” said Samson in as cool a voice as he could muster. “He’s busy at the moment, and I know he doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
The guard looked down at the pile of putrefying flesh. “But this looks like it was attacked.”
“Don’t talk rubbish, we’ve seen this before. The damn things eat ‘til they’re fit to explode, then they stumble over and burst.”
The guard looked at him in disbelief, and pointed at the thing’s head. “Look at it, clearly someone offed it. The hole in its head was caused by a knife, so unless it offed itself, someone did this thing in!”
Samson knew the guard was right. But he wanted to make sure, at least for now, that Westbourne remained clueless to Prince Albert’s demise. If any of Archer’s team returned, then he wanted to be able to switch sides at a second’s notice. The best way to achieve that goal was by covering up for whoever did this.
However, if for whatever reason Archer’s team didn’t return, then he would simply blame the guard for not reporting his findings sooner. Win-win, as Westbourne would say.
He took the guard by the shoulder and walked him away from the mess. “Look — Bill isn’t it?” The guard nodded. “Look, Bill, someone contacted me, a fellow employee just like you and I. He found Albert like this, and put it out of its misery. He panicked, and called me. He was trying to do the right thing, but he knows it’ll most likely get him fired. He has a wife and kids, so I said I’d take care of it.”
The guard looked back at the mess. “I don’t know, it sounds a little fishy to me.”
Samson nodded and put on a concerned face. “I know it does, but you said it yourself, there are no signs of forced entry. I tell you what, Bill. Leave this to me, and I’ll leave your name off of all the reports.”
The guard’s face brightened. “Thank you, Mr Samson, that’s a load off my mind. I just don’t want to get blamed for anything.”
Again, Samson nodded reassuringly. “I completely understand. Just carry on with your rounds, and mention this to no one.” Samson smiled, and winked. “Remember, mum’s the word.”
The guard’s hand moved to his mouth and he mimicked locking it, and throwing away the key.
Samson laughed and patted his back. “That’s the idea, now on your way.”
Once the guard turned the corner, Samson slumped to the floor and started shaking uncontrollably. His eyes turned to the mess, and his mind turned to cleaning it up. He would call one of the newer cleaning crews, they always got the job of disposing with the expired Lingering, and they wouldn’t question his orders.
He got to his feet, and straightened his clothes. Finally, he pulled a radio from his top pocket, and called the cleaners. Just to make sure no one else stumbled across his messy friend, he waited until they arrived.
Samson walked into the main control room of the complex, and paused to look at his watch. 10:01 a.m., he wondered how much time he had until Archer’s people made their move. He needed something to ensure his safety, so he needed something they would consider important.
His new position meant he had full access to the Westbourne Corporation’s darkest and deepest secrets. Luckily for him, his new security level and password would enable him to download all those secrets to a USB drive, giving him a bargaining chip to play with. However, he still had to play things close to his chest. If someone spotted what he was about to do, then he would be as good as dead.
Samson strolled confidently towards his glass-walled office, which sat in the far corner of the complexes humming nerve centre. A pretty woman approached him with a clipboard, but he waved her away and mouthed, “Too busy, maybe later.” She nodded, and returned to her station.
He reached the massive door of his office, and placed his hand on its palm reader. The door slid open with a small hiss, and he entered. He moved to his desk and lowered himself into his immense black leather chair. His hands caressed its soft leather, and for a moment he thought of forgetting his plans.
A loud explosion ripped him back to reality, and he leaped to his feet. A second explosion rocked his glass cacoon, cracking the walls. He had no time to lose. He rammed his thumb drive into his terminal and began to download anything that might be important. Once he was satisfied with the selected files, he dashed from his office into the mayhem of the control room.
People yelled. Screens flickered, and thin wisps of smoke hung in the air. His eyes fixed on the security chief, a large man barking orders to his staff. Samson adjusted his tie, and headed towards him.
“Chief!” yelled Samson over the din of claxons. “What happened?”
The large man turned in his direction. “We’re not sure, but it looks like the gas inlet pipes on the outer wall have exploded. The wall is breached.”
“If you have things under control, I’m going to check on Sir Richard.”
Samson turned to walk away, but a strong hand gripped his shoulder.
“Wait, there’s more. We’ve been monitoring a herd which has been showing signs of becoming a swarm; they’re heading for the breach.”
Samson’s head snapped back towards the chief. “Can you stop them?”
The big man shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’m directing all my personnel towards the breach, I’ve told them to seal it with emergency barricades. The trouble is, the barricades aren’t designed to hold back such a large number of biters … we may need to evacuate.”
Samson nodded grimly. “I understand, do what you can, but don’t jeopardize personnel. If evacuation is our only short term option, then evacuate we must. Have you contacted Hobart for assistance?”
The chief shook his head. “Not yet. I’m sending out round up crews to try and redirect the swarm. If that works, then we’ll be fine. If it doesn’t, then I’ll call Hobart and I’ll start the evacuation.”
Samson nodded again. “Okay, sounds like you have things here. I’m going to make sure Sir Richard is ready for whatever eventuates. I’ll just grab some important files from my office first."
The chief turned back to his people, and Samson ran towards his office. As he snatched the USB drive from his terminal, he turned his mind to his escape.
Clearly, the explosions were the result of an attack. The masterminds of which were most likely the rest of Archer’s team. He knew this meant there were two highly trained killers now stalking the complex.
What did they want? Well, obviously Westbourne, and most likely Dr Bartholomew too. He knew where to find both, which meant he needed to get there before Archer’s men did. If he handed them over to Archer’s people, then he might make it out of this mess alive.
Chapter 30
Location: two miles from the ancient’s compound
Date: June 24th 2013
Time: 9:24 a.m.
Fairclough crouched down, and signalled for the others to do the same. Both Bouchard and Craig moved to his side, and both men stared at the distant herd.
“Do you think that’s the ‘erd we passed through earlier?” asked Bouchard.
Fairclough nodded. “Yep, and it gives me an idea.” He turned to the men at his side and settled onto
one knee. “We need a distraction, and they’re it. We’re going to make them follow us to the compound, and then we’re going to blow a hole in the wall and send those things through.”
Craig looked at the herd, then back at Fairclough. “How are we going to get them to follow us?”
Fairclough held up his glove covered hand. “That bit is easy. We’re up wind of them, so once they get the smell of blood in their nostrils, they’d follow us off a cliff. The hard bit will be staying in front of them. Those fuckers may look slow, but once they smell blood, they’re like greyhounds.”
Craig looked at the herd again. “It sounds like too much of a risk to me. Why not just assault the compound with the seven of us?”
“There’s a good chance they know we’re coming,” answered Bouchard. “They’d cut us to ribbons if we tried a traditional assault. Fairclough’s right, this is the distraction we need.”
Craig sighed, and said, “Okay, how are we going to do this?”
“Bouchard and I will give your men a head start, maybe five minutes.”
He ran his finger through the sand making a line, then made two dots and pointed to them. “You’ll find two gas pipes on the outer wall, place your C4 charges on them, and blow the wall.”
Fairclough now ran his finger through the sand again. This time he created rectangle several inches from the dots. “This is a transport compound,” said Fairclough as he pointed at the rectangle, “I want you and your men to secure it and hold tight. When you hear from us, come with whatever you find in there. If they have armoured vehicles, all the better. Clear?”
“Craig nodded, and said, “What about you two? Where will you head for?”
Fairclough extended the line behind the two dots, creating another wall.
“Once I’m sure the herd has turned to a swarm, and I’m sure it’s heading for the hole you made, I’ll re-glove my hand. Lucien and I will then head for our original entry point, here.”