95 Million Killers

by Gary Weston

  Charlie aimed the bailer at the pack, the whirling deadly blades on the front lowered so they were skimming the ground. He turned the machine so he was attacking from the rear, the boys shooting from the front.

  'Slice and dice the buggers, Dad,' yelled Stevie.

  Like some prehistoric beast, the bailer ploughed into the pack, sending body parts and blood in every direction. There came a noise behind him, as a hundred soldiers raced across the paddock, firing as they ran. The pack took off over the fence and they were gone.

  'Anyone hurt?' Major Burns asked.

  'No,' said Charlie, shaking the Major's hand. 'Thanks for coming.'

  'Wouldn't have missed it for the world. Looks like we got about forty of them between us.'

  'There were still plenty left,' said Charlie.

  Captain Sanders asked, 'That's south, isn't it?'

  'Yes,' said Charlie. 'Hang on.'

  A wounded possum was climbing over the fence and Charlie raised his gun to shoot it.

  'Wait,' said Sanders. 'Don't kill it. I've had an idea.' Sanders took off his jacket and went to the injured possum and threw the jacket over it, bundling the animal up.

  'And just what do you think you are going to do with that creature, Captain?' Burns asked.

  Sanders just winked and grinned.

  Chapter 58

  It was one of the better bistros in the city centre. The man and the woman had a table for two in an alcove at one corner.

  'Why me?' the woman asked. She was a sharply dressed, well groomed woman in her late twenties.

  The man, more than twice her age, smiled and leaned forward. 'Because, Miss Kane. You are trying to make a big name for yourself as an investigative journalist. I've a story for you that'll take your career to another level.'

  'I've heard statements like that before.'

  The man sipped his coffee. 'Tell me what you know about this possum business.'

  'Possums? The ones eating people?'

  'Yes.'

  'Only what I've seen on the news. Some large pack of them attacking and killing people.'

  'And why do you suppose they have suddenly started to do that, Miss Kane?'

  'The only theory is some kind of mutation has altered them into meat eaters.'

  'Not far off the mark.'

  'You know something about it do you?'

  The man smiled. 'What if I were to tell you it wasn't anything natural, but a man-made accident that caused the possums to be turned into man eaters?'

  'Bullshit. Is that even possible?'

  'More than fifteen years ago, it happened. I was there. It was sanctioned by a certain government department.'

  'This was a government project experimenting?'

  'No. Not exactly. It was a private company that did the deed. The two heads of that department were civilians at that time, trying to make a name for themselves because they had political ambitions.'

  'And turning possums into people killers was going to do that? I don't think so.'

  'That wasn't the intention, Miss Kane. The idea was that if they could be genetically modified so that they couldn't digest vegetation, they would eventually starve to death. And if they mated, the modifications would continue on in their offspring, eventually wiping out the possums.'

  'Something went wrong?'

  'Very wrong. Instead of vegetation, they simply started to eat meat. They like the human kind the best.'

  'Is that supposed to shock me? I'm about to walk out of here. If you want my undivided attention for the next thirty seconds, you have to convince me to stay. If this isn't total bullshit, why hasn't this come to light before now?'

  'Because it's been covered up. The two men have become very important politicians.'

  'Is that right? If that's the case, if this got out it would destroy their careers.'

  'Yes. But remember. The cover up meant people died. Don't the public have a right to know?'

  Miss Kane could see the potential was huge. 'This may be worth following up. I need proof.'

  'And I need money. Miss Kane. I was there when this was going on. I took photographs of certain meetings. I'll give you those at a price.'

  'Which is?'

  'One hundred thousand dollars.'

  'No way. For a story, even an exclusive one as big as this, my paper would only pay fifty thousand.'

  'Perhaps this will change your mind.'

  From his pocket, he took a photo and held it in front of her. Recognise this man on the left? Remember it was fifteen years ago.'

  'But that's...'

  'Shh! I have more incriminating photos than this one. Now. Can we talk seriously about the money?'

  'I'll see what I can do.'

  Chapter 59

  'That,' said Major Burns, 'Is a brilliant idea, Captain.'

  Captain Sanders said, 'Fortunately, the possum was only stunned. With the radio transmitter on him, we'll be able to pinpoint where he goes. Hopefully, he'll lead us to the super pack.'

  'It's still clever thinking, even if he doesn't.'

  'Thank you, Sir. We have to have a little luck somewhere down the track.'

  'This is cause for celebration. There's a certain local business in need of our support. Tell anyone off duty they can join us in the Nagging Bladder.'

  Charlie Matai was taking a well earned break in the pub when nearly fifty soldiers walked in, putting a huge smile on Maggie's face. Burns bought Sanders a pint and they went over to talk to Charlie.

  'I hope none of your cattle were harmed last night, Mr Matai?' said Burns.

  'If you lads hadn't turned up they would have been. Thanks for that.'

  'Our pleasure. Your sons not in here?'

  'Nope. They're earning their keep for a change. They're keeping an eye out for if those buggers come back.'

  Captain Sanders said, 'That was an inventive use of a bailer, Charlie.'

  'Made a bit of a mess of it. Blood all over the bloody place.'

  'You're not the only inventive one,' said Burns. 'Captain Sanders here has fitted that possum with a radio transmitter. We are tracking where it goes.'

  Sanders added, 'We're hoping it goes to the main pack. If it does, we stand a chance of wiping them out.'

  'Bloody hell. Good on yer, mate. Here. Let me get you lads another beer.'

  When Burns returned to camp, he called in to see how the radio tracking was going.

  'The radio is working fine, Sir. A good signal. It moved in a steady line, as if it knew where it was heading, then stopped.'

  'Where?'

  'According to this map, slap bang in the middle of that valley.'

  'But that's where we tried to find them last time. Damn. I'd like us to get them as they're leaving the valley, so we can have clear shots at them. I want this monitored around the clock. As soon as the signal moves out of the valley, I want to know about it, any time, day or night.'

  'Yes, Sir.'

  Chapter 60

  The chief editor Carl Fletcher, looked doubtfully at Sue Kane. 'So tell me who this politician is, damn it.'

  'No way, Carl, not until you agree to the money.'

  'You want me to give a complete stranger one hundred thousand dollars on the basis of some old photo? Are you nuts? We both know how easy it is to manipulate photos these days.'

  'My source won't cough up the full story if we don't pay him what he wants. Carl. We're the only paper he's offered it to. We need to do this now while the possums are still hot news.'

  'How do you know this joker isn't a con artist?'

  'Why don't you meet him and make your own mind up?'

  Fletcher said, 'Don't you worry. I intend to. Give him a call and get him in here. But tell him I want to see more evidence than some dog-eared photo.'

  'I'll give him a call.'

  'Okay. Sue. Just be very careful. If this is all above board, it could blow up in our faces.'

  Kane said 'I'll be careful. So far I've only told you. But will you run with the story if it turns out
to be true?'

  'Sue. Something this big isn't just for me to decide on. If I think the story stacks up, I'll take it to the next level. If I hear what I like, I'll recommend it. Fair enough?'

  'Thanks, Carl. I'll set that meeting up.'

  Chapter 61

  'You might as well know, I've sent somebody to deal with the situation.' Max Harrison waited for the reaction on the other end of the line but got none. Brahms played during the pause. 'Cat got your tongue? Look. You can bury your head in the sand as much as you want. It won't resolve anything. I just want you to remember it was me who saved your career. Well, one of us had to do something about it. Pritchard won't be so lucky this time. I have no idea how he'll do it and I don't care. You had just better hope that Pritchard keeps his mouth shut in the meantime.

  Those possums are still wreaking havoc. That farm has been targeted for the second time. If the army hadn't been there...Well, I suppose I don't need to spell it out.

  I bet Pritchard is getting ready to talk. What? No. I didn't know that. South of Whanganui River? Anybody hurt? They were lucky. But knowing that tells me we need to deal with Pritchard as soon as possible. The more this thing spreads, the more he'll be inclined to point the finger, and neither of us can afford that. Have a good night.'

  Chapter 62

  'Anything moved?' Major Burns wanted to know as he peered over the soldiers shoulder at the screen.

  'No, Sir. It is still in the valley.'

  'And as we've had no reports of possum attacks since we released that possum, I'd say they were holed up in that valley.'

  'Sir. Couldn't we get the air force to machine gun the valley, or even drop some poisonous gas on it?'

  'An interesting idea, son. But with the possums hidden in the trees, they would be firing blind. Gas would be too iffy and people would be up in arms if we killed all the birds and animals in the area. We need to see our target and make damn sure we get every last one of them. You tell me when they're on the move, and we'll hit them with everything we have. Keep up the good work, soldier.'

  Chapter 63

  'And that's your real name, Smith?' Carl Fletcher asked.

  'Does it matter? For the record, yes. Christopher Smith.'

  Sue Kane asked, 'You've brought all the evidence with you?'

  'Hell, no. You don't get all of it until I see the money in my bank account. I do have a little of it I can show you, though.'

  'Mind if we see it?' Fletcher asked.

  Smith pulled an envelope from his inside jacket pocket. Fletcher went to take it off him, but Smith held it back. 'You should know I've also approached another paper. Like you, they're thinking it over. The first one to come up with the money gets everything, including my written account of what happened.'

  'I don't play games. Mr Smith. If I think you're trying to sell us a crock of shit, you'll get nothing from us. Now. Do I see what you have?'

  Smith handed it over and Fletcher spread out the photographs across his desk.

  'Who's this guy?'

  Smith said, 'Dr James Tasker. He's the scientist who genetically modified the possums I trapped for him. That was my role in all this. He needed possums to work on, I supplied him. My hunting experiences in South Africa got me the job.'

  Kane said, 'And you stayed in the bush with Tasker?'

  'Most of the time. There was basically this barn you can see here. Which was where the caged possums were kept, and also the laboratory he used and a small office area. We both had separate one roomed accommodation. But Tasker never left the site for two years. I took off now and then either to get supplies or...' Smith leered at Kane. 'Or just meet a few ladies.'

  'This man looks familiar,' Fletcher said.

  'Simon Harrison. He was Tasker's boss and head of Harrison's Genetics.'

  'Of course. He's dead, isn't he?'

  'Yes. Max Harrison, his son, now runs the joint. He's the fresh face kid trying to look all grown up. He really didn't have anything to do with all this. He's just inherited a poisoned chalice from his father.'

  Kane pointed at the politician in the photograph and said,'Was he a frequent visitor to the site?'

  'To the best of my knowledge, he only made about four visits to the site in the first six months. They had no idea I was taking pictures.'

  'Interesting, Mr Smith,' said Fletcher. 'And just why were you taking secret photographs?'

  Smith sighed. 'To be honest with you, I thought the whole set up stank. If this project was going to get the problem of your possums sorted out once and for all, the government should have gotten right behind it. None of this clandestine pussy footing around. I saw enough of that sort of crap in South Africa. My instincts told me it was the thing to do.'

  'Why did you leave the project?' Fletcher asked.

  'Two reasons. The barn burned down and Tasker died. So there was no project after that. Also, I wasn't about to hang around and have any fingers pointing in my direction. So I went back home.'

  Kane asked, 'And now you're back. Why now?'

  Smith said, 'I was doing okay back in South Africa. Okay, but not great. I was in a bar one day, and it comes on the news about possum attacks in this country in the same neck of the woods the project was. I couldn't believe it when people didn't come clean about what happened.'

  Fletcher said, 'So you thought you would hop on a plane and see what you could milk out of the situation.'

  There was an awkward silence, then Smith gathered up the photographs and stuffed them in his pocket and stood up.

  'I'm not sure I like your tone, Fletcher. Maybe I'll give your opposition another call. You and I are capitalists. I have something for sale. You have to decide if you want it or are prepared for somebody else to cough up. If you think this is a crock of shit, fine. Read all about it in somebody else's paper. If I were you, I'd get busy. Have a nice day.'

  Chapter 64

  It was a pleasant evening and Prickle and Pritchard sipped beer on the back deck of Prickle's home.

  'It means a lot to me, staying here with you and Pam,' said Pritchard.

  'Hey, look...'

  'Now let me finish. I have to get myself sorted out. I know that. To be honest, I haven't a clue what to do. If I go public with what I know, it's goodbye career. Nearly twenty five years out the bloody window. Then what? Who the hell would hire a whistle blower?'

  'She's a tough one, mate. What about the other scenario? If you don't broadcast it to the nation and the truth comes out anyway, people will be asking why you didn't say something. They'll be saying, shit. That bloke knew why people got killed and the joker said nothing about it. That'll go down well.'

  'Hung if I do, hung if I don't. Bill. It's Pam's birthday party tomorrow night. Your Pam's a bloody legend as far as I'm concerned. If I went public now, there'll be a media scrum and I'll not spoil Pam's birthday with that.'

  'Fair enough, mate.'

  'Bill. Have you any idea how bloody lucky you are? I put my job before my wife too many times. I don't blame her for walking out on me. I was an idiot. Don't be an idiot like me, mate.'

  Prickle cracked the tabs on two more cans and passed one to his friend. 'Pam is one special lady. I'll tell you how special. About five years ago, I had a load of stuff going on around here. Stake-outs. Drug gangs. All kinds of shit going down.'

  'I remember. That 'P' gang.'

  'We got them nailed in the end. I was never at home. One day I said to Pam. To hell with this shit. I'm quitting the force. You know what she said?'

  'What?'

  'She said, and I'll never forget those words as long as I live, she said, “Bill Prickle. You are the law around here. You love your job and you make a difference. When you go out there, sure I'm scared. Who wouldn't be. But I know this place is better for what you do. If you quit, it's because of you, not me.”

  'Shit! She said all that? If I had heard anything like those words from my wife, I'd still be a happily married man. Like I said before. Pam's a legend. Whatever I do, it will be
after her birthday party. You are one lucky son of a bitch.'

  'So Pam keeps telling me. Mick. You're a mate. You stay here as long as you need. Come Monday, you decide what you're going to do and I'll back you either way.'

  'Thanks, Bill. That means everything to me.'

  'No worries, mate.'

  Chapter 65

  The Nagging Bladder was full to capacity. Maggie and her barmaids were delighted to be filling up jug after jug, the till chinging constantly. It was a mix of the Prickle's friends, all escorted in by the army, and a cheerful bunch of soldiers. The music was playing, the beer was flowing, and Pam Prickle was having a ball being the centre of attention.

  'Happy?' Bill Prickle asked.

  'I'm having a great time. The soldiers really know how to have a drink beer.'

  'Deservedly so. These lads go all over the world, putting their lives on the line for the rest of us. If they had any hair, they'd be well within their rights to let it down.'

  Mick Pritchard said, 'Even the brass are having fun. He's a bit of a lad, that Major Burns.'

  Charlie Matai said, 'He's okay in my book. I'd be nervous being here at this time of night if I didn't know the army were looking after the place.'

  'Well,' said Bill. 'I think you should be cutting up your birthday cake so we can all have a slice.'

  'You mean so you can have a slice, Bill Prickle. I know what you're like for cake. Okay. I'll do it.'

  Pam went to the bar where her beautifully iced cake cried out for attention. 'Drum roll please,' said Pam. The soldiers drummed everything in sight as Pam cut her cake.

  'The first slice goes to Maggie for putting on such a great spread. Thanks, Maggie. The next goes to Major Burns. You and your men are what is best about this country.'

  'Thank you, Mrs Prickle. Nice of you to say so.'

  'This one is for my husband, even though I think he's sweet enough.'