by John McCuaig
Gordon came over and joined them; Adrianne saw the look in his eyes when he checked out her injury. He could only shake his head.
“It’s too late for me now, Michel, we both know that. Just care for my babies, please just do it,” she said as she picked up then passed little Rachelle over to her father’s arms. “Get them to somewhere safe, and please always keep them safe.” She grabbed the old rifle from his hand and chambered a round showing that she had used it a few times before.
“Fucking move it, Michel,” Page shouted as he got to beside the small, uncovered fishing boat. “Get yourself over here now.”
This call was not through any great love for the Frenchman; it was because neither he nor his men knew how to get the damn boat started.
“Michel, please listen to her,” Gordon said as he saw the beasts around them growing even more in their numbers and getting closer and closer to them by the second. “We need to go now, you’ve gotta to do what she wants. Think of your kids.” Before he knew it, she had shoved the other little girl, Elayna, into his arms.
Turning around she walked towards the wild array of the beasts, firing at whichever one got the closest. She never said her goodbyes to her children or husband, but she did look back to see them once more.
“Okay,” Michel kissed both of his daughters. “Mama has got to leave us now; you need to come with me.” With a little nod to Gordon, he quickly moved towards his boat.
The Colonel got on his radio as Michel, Gordon, and the children clambered on board and the small engine soon roared into life and pushed away at the water. Before the beasts could attempt to clamber on board, the rickety old fishing boat was moving away from the pier.
“Page to Taylor,” he said. “Okay lad, you’ve done your bit. We’re on the boat now, get yourselves back onto the ship and get out to the open sea. We’ll meet you there.”
“Come on, get this bloody thing moving a bit faster,” the Colonel snapped towards Michel, as he and his men provided him with cover fire. He did not care one iota about the Frenchman’s loss of his wife and his brother. He had far more important things to think of.
“I need to get back to my ship.”
***
01:50 A.M
On the other side of the pier
Taylor heard the call from the Colonel. But it had not come quite quick enough. The hungry hordes were right upon their position already, they were by now barely more than a dozen feet away.
Looking at the rope ladders behind him, he knew that they could never make it back up, the masses of dead hands would pull them down before they could possibly get away. That escape route was now gone forever.
“Taylor to Page,” he struggled to keep on firing as he called for his leader. “Sir, we need to change the plan. You’ll have to pick us up in the water at the mouth of the dock. We can no longer get back to the ship; we need to swim for it.”
“Okay son. We’ll be there in about two minutes,” Page replied as he wondered about his men’s fate.
“Taylor to the Professor,” he never answered his Colonel; he was already speaking to Mary high up on the ship. “Are you there ma’am?”
“Yes, young man, I can hear you just fine.” Her voice was now as soft and gentle as he had ever heard.
“We’re leaving, ma’am,” he and his men were having to inch backwards down the pier already, the horde were still getting closer and closer. “There’s no need to wait for us anymore, just get your selves the hell out of here now.”
Corporal Taylor knew that he needed to give the order; it was their only hope now, no matter how slim it must have seemed. He immediately thought back to his Sarge at Dover and how he had fared, or rather how he did not.
“Get ready to run boys,” he shouted. “Right to the end of the pier and jump in, then swim for your bloody life before these bastards join us.”
“You’re fucking kidding!” One of his men snapped back. “We’ll never make it.”
Taylor ignored him.
“3…2…1 Go!”
A couple of his men started to move off before he had even finished the countdown, but in less than a second all six of them were sprinting as fast as they could along the long, darkened pier. Not once did anyone look back, they did not need to, for they all knew exactly what was coming right behind them.
Ripping off his body armor and chucking it away along with his machine gun into the sea, Taylor got himself ready to take the plunge. He needed to do whatever he could to get away fast and all that stuff would do now was just slow, and weigh him down.
Splash!
One by one, they jumped the twenty odd feet down into the cold, rough and forever unforgiving sea. And not far behind, the army of the undead followed them over the sheer edge. Quickly it turned into a wild maelstrom, a multitude of arms and legs beat away at the water sending the spray skywards. Inside the mindless chaos, the soldiers were trying to make their escape and the beasts were trying to get a hold of some fresh meat before they disappeared forever under the surface.
For Taylor and the men, the sea itself was also their greatest ally, it sucked down and cleared away most of the horde before they could attack them, but only most.
The great desire to feed and spread the virus kept a few on the surface just long enough to get themselves a grip. Within the spray and splash, he could not see a thing, but the cold screams behind him let Taylor know that at least two of his men had been caught and the close by groans surrounding him signaled that they were almost upon him too. Then he felt it, two large hands grabbed onto his shoulders and pulled.
His arms waved even faster as he tried to break free, but the grip was strong, far too strong.
“Just calm the fuck down son,” the voice boomed above him. “Or I’ll never be able to pull you up.” Looking up he saw it was his Colonel that had a grip and then he heard the rapid shots being fired. It did not take long for the soldiers in the boat to pick off the last few of the undead still in the water, as the saying goes it was like shooting fish in a barrel.
Within a minute, Taylor and his three surviving companions were hauled up inside the slim, uncovered fishing boat.
Both sets of surviving soldiers greeted each other with a mix of hugs and back slaps, they all knew that they were lucky to still be breathing. Even Corporal Taylor joined in on the celebrations, only the Colonel stayed quiet.
He looked around at his ever-decreasing number of men. He was now down to barely a handful, and all they had managed to find in France was another civilian and a couple of crying little children.
Things were going to have to change.
15- Back on Board
02:20 A.M
Onboard the HMS Clyde
Mary stood at the railings and watched them as the ship reversed back down the pier. Chloe and the engineer were still straining away on the ropes; she knew they would never be able to escape their bonds. They were destined to stay right there until they slowly rotted away, never again being able to feed. The only soldier left on board was up in the wheelhouse and was far too busy to be disturbed. Cursing herself, she looked away, she realized she should have made Taylor promise to kill them before he left. However, it was now too late.
“There they are,” one of the scientists behind her screamed out. She was pointing over to the small boat which was just about visible in the darkness. It was then the turn of the people on the ship to shout and cheer, except for Mary Doyle that was.
After about five minutes, both the boats had cleared the mighty entrance to the docks and soon enough met up, not that far outside of the sea wall. Inching up close, the little fishing boat got to where the rope ladders we dropped, one by one the soldiers went up until just the Colonel, Gordon, Michel and the two children remained on board.
“Here, let me take one,” Gordon held his hands out towards the little kids. “Please let me help you, you’ll never be able to carry them both up.”
“And who says I want to come with you at all?” Michel lo
oked over at Page with the anger still very clear in his eyes. He just ignored Gordon and his request. “You have brought me nothing but death. I’ll just take my children and boat and leave.”
“Don’t be a damn fool,” the Colonel was as usual not in the mood for diplomacy. “And where the hell will you go, who is going to look after your children? Come on Michel, please tell me who, will it be just you and that stupid old gun of yours?”
Michel did not reply. His eyes kept shifting from staring at the old soldier and glancing at his children.
“Please listen to him my friend,” Gordon stood right between them, deliberately breaking their eye contact. “No matter what you think of us, your kids will be a hell of a lot safer staying on here with the soldiers. You’d never survive long by yourself, come on man, please tell me how would you get any food and water? I bet you everywhere on land will be crawling with those damn things by now. Please Michel, just take a minute or two to think about them.” He pointed to the still crying bundles that were holding tightly onto the Frenchman’s legs.
Glancing down at his sweet little children for a few seconds, Michel gave just a solitary little nod to the doctor before he spoke up. “Very well, you are perhaps right Gordon, for now anyway.” He slung the two youngsters up into his arms. “But I will be the one taking them up on board, they are my children and I’ve promised my Adrianne that I’ll always look after them.”
With them hanging onto his neck, he struggled up the rope ladder onto the deck where all of the remaining survivors on the Clyde were waiting to get a little look at their newest arrivals. Michel’s face instantly showed that he did not take too kindly to being the centre of attention. Mary and Margot both saw this and came over to join him.
“Welcome aboard my ship,” Mary stood before him holding out her hand. “I’m sorry about the circumstances in which we are meeting today.” She knew there should have been two more with him, of course she did not know yet what had happened to them but could easily guess their fate.
Colonel Page had just come up on deck from tying up the fishing boat alongside, he wanted to keep it for now in case they needed to use it later. He glanced over towards the Professor when he heard her call it her ship.
Michel gently put down his two children who once again clung like limpets onto his legs; it seemed that they would never be able to let go again. “Thank you,” was all he could say as he continued to scan all the new faces that were staring at him.
“Perhaps you’d like to go down below,” Mary pointed towards the far doorway. “So you and your children can be alone for a while. We can also get them some food and water if you would like.”
He nodded once.
“Margot,” spinning around, Mary spoke to the young woman who was standing directly behind her. “Can you do me a favor? Would you please take them down and show them to one of the spare cabins?”
Coming over, Margot dropped to her knees and spoke to the little children. “Hi there,” she softly tried to get their attention. Slowly they moved their heads out from hiding and stared at the strange looking girl kneeling before them. However, they still held on tight to their father and never spoke a single word.
Standing back up she gave Michel a little smile and beckoned him towards the door. As they disappeared from sight, Mary hoped that with their loss having some company maybe they could all heal just a little bit quicker.
“I think we need to have a chat now,” Colonel Page was now standing next to the Professor; he startled her by appearing so quickly. “Perhaps we should go find somewhere a little bit more private?”
“Of course, Harry,” Mary looked at him slightly puzzled. “That sounds like an excellent idea to me, we have to work out what we’re going to do next. Come on; let’s go down to my quarters.” They quickly disappeared down the same doorway that Michel and Margot had just gone through.
Watching all this was the tightly entwined Pauline and Gordon, holding each other tight, the great comfort they got from even meeting again was quickly erased by the angry tone of the soldier’s voice.
Before Gordon could say anything, Pauline put her finger up to his lips. “Don’t get involved this time,” she whispered. “Can we just forget about all this crap for a little while?” Reaching over she gently kissed his grubby forehead. “Please just hold me?”
He returned the kiss and held her even tighter.
16- The Order of Things
02:45 A.M
Inside Mary’s room.
“Okay, Harry,” Mary went straight over to her meager bed as soon as they entered the little cabin and beckoned him to sit down beside her. “Now what’s the matter, I can tell something is wrong by the sound of your voice?”
“First of all, I’ll just come out and say it before you do,” still standing, he removed his faithful cloth cap and ran his fingers through his short, well-cropped hair. “You were right; the virus had hit France hard as well. And yes, it would probably have been wiser not to have landed and just left them to it.”
“Please don’t worry, there’s no need for you to say sorry, Colonel,” Mary smiled up at him. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, all that I’m interested in now is the future, and with us finding a cure.”
It was Page’s turn to look more than a little puzzled. “I think you’ve misunderstood me ma’am,” he said as he at last took the option to sit down beside her. “I’m not saying sorry. Not in the slightest, all I’m saying is that you were correct this time, that’s all.”
Mary smiled at him, remembering that he would never be able to admit openly that he was wrong.
“Well, whatever you say, Harry,” she reached up and opened a little cupboard high up on the wall. “I found this, do you fancy joining me for a little glass?” She held up a half-full bottle of the finest twelve-year-old Scotch. “We can at last make a toast to our new ship.”
“Oh, so it’s our ship now, is it?” Page said as he took a glass from her and waited until it was filled up to halfway. “That’s funny, I heard you call it your ship when we were up on deck, it’s just one of the things that we need to discuss Professor.” He took a large gulp of the amber nectar from the glass and watched for a reply.
“Why has it had to come down to this Harry?” Taking a little slip from her own glass, she placed it down next to the bed, her smile had by now long since disappeared from her face. “Surely we are all after the same things? For us to stay alive for as long as possible and to find a bloody cure. So tell me, why do we have to end up fighting?”
“I can assure you of one thing Professor, we’re not fighting,” he said as he too placed the now empty glass down. “We just need to re-evaluate our relationship.”
“Well then Colonel, you’d better spit it all out,” Mary was no longer in the mood to be pussy footing around. This needed sorting. “Please, go ahead; this should be interesting at least.”
“If you remember my orders were to get you and your team over to France,” he took the bottle again without asking and refilled his glass, this time right up to the top. “Yes, I agree that you were in charge up to then and I followed your orders for all of that time. However, that little chapter is now over I’m afraid. I’m taking over Professor, this is now my mission. I must do whatever is best for me and for my team from now on.”
“And what about the rest of us, what about my own team? And more importantly, what about our work on finding the cure?”
“You are all more than welcome to stay with us for as long as you like Professor, but you’ll all have to realize that I am now the one in charge. Without question, you’ll all be following my orders.”
“Can I ask what your first orders would be?”
“We’ve got to go and find the rest of the army,” once again, he emptied the glass in one long gulp. “We’ll head back to England, get ashore and head for the army bases in Hampshire. One of them must still be secure; the armed forces will have surely survived, even through this. We’ll find sanctuary there and the
n you can carry on with your work.”
“Just a couple of questions, Harry,” Mary poured him yet another stiff drink. “How do you know there will be anyone left and more importantly how the hell do you think we’ll get across all that open countryside to the bloody bases? Christ, think about it man, it would be nothing but certain death if we try to go back there.”
“We’ll make it through just fine.”
“How far from the coast is the nearest base anyway?”
“About fifteen miles or so.”
“Come on, that’s just plain stupid, Harry.”
“Have you not been listening to me?” he snapped back at her. “You have no right to even question me. I’m now the one in charge ma’am, and back home is where we’re going. I know that we’ll find a way through. I’m going to tell the wheelhouse they need to change direction.” He stood up getting ready to leave. “You’d better decide soon whether you’re with me or not.”
As he went to open the door, Mary stood up as well. Still holding the scotch bottle, she followed him.
Smash!
With one mighty swing, she sent the heavy bottle flying around into his temple. Shattering on impact it still had enough force to send the Colonel sprawling down onto the floor.
As he grumbled and moaned with the pain, Mary knelt down beside him and removed his faithful gun from its holster. Chambering a round, she got close up to his ear.
“I’m so sorry that it has come to this, Harry,” she whispered. “But I will not let you destroy any last chance we have of ever finding a cure. I have told you many times before that I will do whatever is necessary to keep that hope alive. Nothing will ever stand in my way.”
Standing back up she aimed at his head, closed her eyes, and fired.
Just like him, a single shot was all that was required. The Colonels head snapped violently over to the side then stayed deadly still as his thick red blood quickly pooled out alongside him. Sitting back down on the little bed, Mary placed the smoking gun down alongside her just as the flimsy door burst open.