Second Activation (The Activation Series Book 2)

by Darren Wearmouth

  “It sounds like Anthony or Jerry is organizing a hunt,” Jack said.

  I glanced across to the closest bungalow. “Let’s get the Rover off the road.”

  “Lea, you get in and steer, and we’ll push,” Jack said.

  We both grunted as we shoved the vehicle across the road and down a driveway. The Rover gained momentum down a slight incline. Lea steered around a rusty red pickup onto a neatly trimmed lawn at the rear of the house; the grass had probably been cut a day or two before the activation.

  Jack and I took a few moments. I leaned against the filthy white wooden boarding on the side of the house and sucked in oxygen.

  The distant engine noises slowly grew louder. The dual tone suggested more than one vehicle, but they weren’t rapidly approaching. They didn’t know our exact location and were, ominously, taking their time to hunt us down.

  “Stay back,” I said.

  I peered around the corner wall. Jack looked over my shoulder. Voices became clearer, shouting over the noise of the engines. A man appeared on the road and aimed along the tracks on the opposite side. He swung around to face the houses. I edged back.

  A minute later, a pickup truck rolled along the street, with two men aiming rifles out of the back. Five more armed, competent-looking guards, all dressed in black, swarmed around the truck, focusing on each side of the road.

  I listened for any slight change in the engine tone or for approaching footsteps. One of the men raised his rifle to his shoulder and casually fired twice into the house next door. A window shattered. He continued after the truck.

  The short procession rumbled away, and the noise gradually receded.

  “Those guys look like they mean business,” Jack said. “Not like the clowns we met on our way here.”

  “Why let us shoot Ron and escape, and then chase us?” I wondered aloud. “Lea, how many people did you say were on the payroll?”

  “A couple thousand, but they could’ve been distributing the money to others. I transferred hundreds of thousands of bucks on a monthly basis.”

  “Maybe we’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg?” Jack said.

  “If I can find Martina, I’ll get you more info.”

  “Forget about that for now. Let’s concentrate on getting out of here,” I said.

  The more I got to know about GA, the bigger the significance they seemed to take on. There was no way in the world that Ron and his goons ran the operation or even had a prominent role in the higher echelons. The events were too vast and far-reaching to be carried out by group of gun-toting amateurs. I had little doubt that we were dealing with the bottom feeders, but they still posed a significant threat.

  “What do you think that gunfire earlier was all about?” I asked.

  Jack shook his head. “No idea, but I’m pretty sure we’re not the only ones pissed off around here.”

  I took a few paces forward and gazed along the road. The GA team rounded a bend about a half a mile away. “Looks like they’ve got a game plan now. Lea, is there a cross-country route to that big pile of cars?”

  “Fields for a mile or two.” She pointed to her right. “Or we cut through that neighborhood to the South Dixie Highway.”

  “Whichever,” Jack shrugged. “Let’s stay off the roads till we’re clear of Monroe.”

  “Let’s stop talking and get moving before they seal the whole area off,” I said.

  We could have followed our noses toward the jumble of cars that had greeted us on arrival at Monroe. A large pit lay next to the mangled, bloodstained wrecks, roughly the size of a football field, filled with corpses. A light southerly breeze gave us intermittent blasts of deathly decay, but for the time being, the stench acted as our homing beacon.

  We wound our way around neat flower gardens, kiddie pools with dead bugs floating in the tepid water, and piles of children’s bicycles and swing sets; we stayed away from streets, jumping over wooden and metal garden fences. We were still a mile away from the South Dixie Highway, which led to the first cars in the group of abandoned vehicles.

  Jack dived for cover behind a hedge. “Get down!”

  Lea and I followed.

  Three black Rovers roared along the South Dixie Highway in tight convoy. They stopped just short of their occupants’ self-constructed roadblock.

  “That’s the rifle out of the window,” Jack said as he peered through the leaves. “We’ll never get past that lot without being spotted.”

  I swept a branch to one side. A man exited the front Rover and swept the area through his rifle sights. “There’re plenty of good places to hide among those vehicles. If they park there, it’ll be the last place they’ll expect us to go.”

  Lea hadn’t said a word since leaving the back of the house on Hull Road. She closed her eyes and clenched her hands tightly together.

  I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  She groaned and rolled to face me. “I’m going back.”

  “What?” Jack said.

  “We’re not going back there, Lea—they’ll kill us,” I said. “You can’t have forgotten Jerry and Anthony already?”

  “I’ll find Martina and explain. Ron was alive, and he would have kept her alive too; she was all he had.” She paused and waited for a reaction. I was speechless. “I’ll create a diversion in town to help you get away,” she said.

  I looked back at the stationary Rovers. Six small figures jumped out of them and wandered across the tree line ahead of us—not in our direction, but if they carried on, our cover would be blown, and we’d be in range of a crack shot.

  “We’ll get you back in later,” I said. “Give us chance to shake the immediate danger and regroup first.”

  “You don’t have to risk your lives for me. When it’s safe, I’ll come and find you.”

  “No way, Lea. I can’t allow it,” I said. “We know there’re other survivors in New York. If we can persuade them—”

  She shook her head and looked despondent. “What if there’s a Second Activation? You can’t outrun the effects of the devices.”

  “It’s not our priority at the moment, and I don’t think there’ll be one anytime soon. Not after what’s happened here.”

  Jack tried to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Lea?”

  She brushed it off and scowled at him. “Whatever. I’m coming.”

  A roll of thunder echoed above. The guards continued along the tree line, almost level with our hedge. I found it hard to believe how Lea turned from titanium to putty when she thought she was in close proximity to Martina, and how she contemplated taking a suicidal chance to see her.

  “Track back and cut across to the highway,” Jack said.

  We moved at a crouching run over an open field. I glanced intermittently across to the men in the distance, who seemed preoccupied with something in the opposite direction. With this momentary diversion, I sped up, over a mixture of soft soil and grassed areas, until we came across a group of cows that appeared interested in our sudden appearance.

  “Do they normally walk toward humans?” Jack asked.

  Lea staggered by his side and dismissively waved her hand. “Some do, some don’t. Who cares?”

  “Keep moving and hope they don’t start making any loud noises,” I said.

  The closest cow stood in our path. I jumped to its side and gave its rump a powerful slap to move it along. The cow snorted and trotted away. I vaulted over a timber fence and landed with a squelch on the other side; then I paused to take a breather, obscured from the view of any prying GA eyes.

  Jack wiped sweat from his brow with his forearm. “Do you think cows were affected by the activation?”

  “I doubt it. How do you tell a cow to kill someone?” I said.

  “Or commit suicide,” Lea added.

  We jogged across one more mudd
y field, peppered with hoofprints and cow pies, to the edge of the highway. I would describe it as a dual carriageway. It had two lanes in either direction, and motorways in England had three. A mix of larger residential, business, and industrial properties lined the route, giving it a cluttered mishmash feel.

  I ran for the closest property. A big, two-story, gingerbread-style house, painted light green, with a fenced-off garden at the back. I always preferred to live away from main roads but would have made an exception for this place, sheltered by trees and set back around fifty yards.

  Somebody had loved the back garden. Lush dark-green ferns and light shrubs stuffed the borders. Daffodils and tulips proudly stood in the neat circular rockeries dotted around the smooth lawn. I would have been proud of producing this myself.

  Jack’s hand snapped up, and he aimed the Ruger toward the back fence. I ducked behind a wooden chair on the patio.

  He lowered it, let out a deep breath, and clutched his chest. “Jesus Christ.”

  I visually swept the garden.

  “What is it?” Lea asked.

  He pointed to where he’d aimed. “I think GA missed someone during their cleanup operation. By the buttonbush.”

  “The what?”

  “That shrub over there,” I said.

  She aligned her vision with my pointing finger and gasped.

  Since leaving the Army, Jack and I had taken up gardening and were adept at identifying objects by orienting them to the nearest tree or plant. It had almost become second nature.

  A discolored, naked corpse lay under the shrub. I’d initially assumed, with a casual glance, that it was another rockery or garden decoration. On closer inspection, it looked as though an animal had feasted on various parts.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Lea said.

  “We’ve seen worse—get a grip on yourself,” Jack snapped. I think he still felt irritated by her wanting to go back to Monroe while we were in immediate danger.

  The stench from the pit wafted over on a light gust of wind, and I pulled the sweater over the bridge of my nose. Thunder rolled again overhead. I yanked a small chopping axe out of a tree stump and ran my finger along the blade. It wasn’t very sharp, but it was better than nothing.

  After negotiating our way through two more or less attractive gardens and sprinting across a derelict office car park, we arrived at the edge of a field with a small wooded area on the opposite side. We were only forty yards from the Rovers. I studied the tree line in the direction the goons headed, but couldn’t detect any signs of movement.

  I knelt by a thick tree trunk. “Wait here for a few minutes. Make sure the coast’s clear before making our move.”

  “Why don’t we take a Rover?” Lea said.

  “And drive where? Back to Monroe?” Jack said.

  She turned away from him and sighed. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

  We crouched in silence, observing for the next two minutes. Flocks of crows swept down and landed in large clusters. Individual birds of prey, recognizable by their broad wings, soared overhead. I guessed they’d been attracted by the human dumping ground, an unlimited supply of food, but it made our movements dangerous. If we startled a group of them, they could give away our location from a reasonable distance.

  “Run for the cars. Once between them, we keep low and move quickly, got it?”

  Jack nodded and checked the Ruger. “Got it.”

  Lea vacantly stared toward Monroe. I reached over and shook her shoulder.

  “Got it, Lea?”

  She rolled her eyes. “For Pete’s sake. I heard you. We move through the cars.”

  “We need to work as a team and move quickly if we’re going to get out of this in one piece,” I said, attempting to hide my frustration at her flippant attitude. “Drop all thoughts of Martina until we’re clear and have time to come up with a plan.”

  She moved to within inches of my face. “Do you think it was easy for Martina and me? She’s the one shining light in this mess, my hope. You get that, right?”

  I didn’t return her icy stare; instead, I squeezed her shoulder and tried to look sympathetic. Internally, her loss of focus concerned me. Our full concentration had to be on our escape, and nothing else.

  Another rumble of thunder banged in the sky, followed by a flash of lightning. Rain pattered against the trees around us, lightly at first, but within a minute it bucketed down.

  “Those guards could be back here at any minute,” I said. “Now!”

  I set off at a sprint through the field, past the Range Rovers. After quickly reaching the first few cars, I ducked into a small triangular-shaped clearing and waited for the other two. Jack and Lea followed, and we hunched together between three damaged vehicles. I carried out a quick inspection of the closest, which had taken a side impact. Small sections of dried bloody handprints flaked off the door as raindrops hit the paintwork.

  “How far do you think this stretches?” Jack said.

  “Hopefully, right up to where we parked at the end of Otter Creek Road,” I said.

  Vehicles had been parked in rows of six across the highway, sometimes five where trucks or large SUVs were positioned. I couldn’t see the end as the massive parking lot disappeared around a shallow bend in the distance. I reasoned that we wouldn’t have far to go. GA didn’t have unlimited resources, and this job alone must have taken them hours, if not a couple of days.

  Two hawks circled high to my right, above the death pit we saw from Otter Creek Road, which confirmed my theory. Luckily, the rain kept the full force of the stench at bay.

  I gestured to a foot-wide gap ahead. “Jack, lead the way. Lea, you follow and I’ll bring up the rear.”

  “No, Harry, I’ll take the rear,” Lea said. “If we come across anyone, you’ve got an axe.”

  “Okay, keep checking our rear. We don’t want any nasty surprises,” I said.

  I wanted Lea to feel like an active part of the group and not just a passenger, mainly to take her mind off Martina. I edged in front and followed Jack as he crawled forward on all fours. The deeper we penetrated, the more tangled the obstacles became. Jack managed to find just enough space for us to crawl between the gaps or underneath larger vehicles for the first few hundred yards, and we made good progress.

  He stopped abruptly and turned back. “We’ll have to slide over the front of this one.”

  A green Chrysler with flat tires was parked at a slight angle in front of him. Not enough room to go underneath or around.

  “Crack on,” I said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

  Jack slid over the hood, and his boots crunched against ground on the other side. He leaned under the chassis. “All clear this side.”

  I crawled over the hood on my belly and noticed a large circular hole in the windshield, about the size of a golf ball. Dried streaks of blood stained the cream leather passenger seat.

  While elevated, I glanced around at the trees, the scruffy rows of vehicles, and back to the Rovers before easing myself down onto the other side. Rain continued to fall, and my clothes started clinging to me, but the noise of the weather came as a welcome bonus to aid our escape.

  Jack sat with his back against the Chrysler and ruffled water out of his hair. His buzz cut had grown to the length of a number four and had efficiently collected droplets. I did the same and felt the water spray through my fingers.

  I glanced at my watch. Just past two o’ clock in the afternoon. I wondered how relevant time would be in our future. Just over a week ago, it ran everyone’s lives; now it seemed like an old passenger that kept ticking along but wouldn’t be noticed if it slipped away.

  Jack stooped toward the ground. “Lea, come on—hurry up.”

  We looked at each other. I looked through the Chrysler’s windows to the opposite side. Nothing.

  He scrambled to
the ground and looked underneath. “Shit. I think she’s gone.”

  I slid back over the hood. My left ankle twisted on landing, and I nearly lost my balance but managed to stop myself going ass-over-tit by grabbing the wing mirror of a rusting Dodge.

  Lea must have gone as soon as our eyes were off her—the reason she wanted to bring up the rear. I searched through windows and along the narrow gaps. “She’s not here, Jack.”

  “We need to keep moving.”

  I strained to see or hear any movement. The faint sound of barking dogs and distant shouting from the direction of the Range Rovers told me where Lea might have gone. I crawled back to Jack with a resigned looked on my face.

  “Do you think she’s given herself up?” he said.

  “Looks like it, but I’m not that surprised. You saw how upset she was about Martina.”

  If Lea was Superwoman, Martina was her kryptonite. I wondered what kind of person she might be, to have a vicelike grip and weakening effect on such a strong-willed woman.

  Jack shook his head. “She could have told us.”

  “I think she tried. Didn’t want us risking our lives to help her.”

  A voice called out in the distance, “You take the left side.”

  I dropped to one knee. “We’ve got no choice—come on.”

  Lea could have gone in three different directions. We had little option but to push south. To our north, Genesis Alliance goons were closing in. An area of thinly populated woodland that would be useless for cover stretched along our western flank. The pit lay to our east. The Toyota provided our means of escape and a rifle for defense. By my reckoning, we were only around one hundred yards away.

  The downpour increased and battered vehicle roofs. Jack crawled forward with more urgency, wriggling below trucks, squeezing through gaps, and tumbling over twisted wreckage. My arm caught on a jagged piece of windshield that ripped flesh open just below my elbow. I dropped my axe, clasped my hand over the wound to stem the flow of blood, and continued to follow.