Chapter Eight
Melissa was getting very frustrated trying to persuade Jonas to do something, anything, she could turn to her advantage. She’d asked for a drink. She’d asked for the bathroom. She had been about to ask if he had a cigarette, even though she didn’t smoke, but realized that request would also end in a gruff refusal. Jonas was loyal to his cause and would stick rigidly to the orders he’d been given. Exactly what they were was irrelevant; it simply meant he wasn’t going to open up an easy way for Melissa to overpower him, and unless she could get him to turn his back, she wasn’t going anywhere. They heard a door slam nearby and someone sprinted past the short corridor leading to the staff room. Melissa strained to look momentarily, and saw that Jonas had been partially distracted. Melissa realized this was the opportunity she had been looking for.
“Roy! In here!” She called out, moving as though she was trying to get someone to see her. Jonas readied his weapon and stepped out into the corridor, his back to her. This was her chance. Melissa got up and leapt at her jailer, slamming her shoulder into his back with all her weight behind it. Jonas toppled over and Melissa landed on top of him. She saw his assault rifle skidding away down the short corridor, and while she had a second’s advantage, Melissa scrambled quickly to her feet. As soon as she had regained her balance, she brought her leg up and tried to stamp down on the back of his head, but he recovered faster than she expected and twisted, grabbing her foot in the process. He gave a powerful shove and knocked her back into the room, where Melissa landed awkwardly on her bound hands. Grunting with exertion, she struggled to get back up, while Jonas was already standing and looking about for his weapon. A flustered Melissa looked around, conscious as she did so that her chance of freedom was diminishing by the second; then she saw her pistol under the small coffee table not far from where she’d been sitting. She rolled onto her front and managed to scrape herself up onto her knees and get to her feet before darting towards the weapon. Kicking the table over, she flopped backwards onto the gun; watching as she did so Jonas stoop to pick up his rifle. A flash of panic hit her in the chest as she fumbled to get the gun into her bound hands but, after nearly pulling the trigger and shooting herself, she managed to get her hand around the grip, and manoeuvre it into a rough firing position. She didn’t know how many bullets were left, and it didn’t really matter. She had no way of aiming the weapon effectively, so blind luck would determine if she lived through the next few seconds.
Jonas had retrieved his weapon and was returning to the room. His rifle wasn’t fully at the ready, presumably as his intention was to recapture her, and Melissa took her chance. She rolled onto her side, and aiming the gun as best as she could, squeezed the trigger. The first shot hit the wall to his right; the second hit him in the shin, causing him to hunch over and drop to one knee, growling in pain. He quickly raised his weapon and Melissa fired a quick pair of shots. One hit his arm, one his shoulder, and then the gun clicked empty. Jonas had toppled backwards, but still held the rifle in his right hand. Melissa dropped her pistol and got to her feet, charging at Jonas and stamping on his wounded arm; he writhed in pain and the weapon fell from his hand. She followed it up with a speedy kick to the side of his head but, before she could lift her foot to strike again, he countered by grabbing her leg with the hand of his uninjured arm, yanking and trying to unbalance her. Melissa compensated swiftly by tightening the muscles and putting her full weight on it and then, as soon as she felt the force of his attack diminish slightly, she gritted her teeth and retaliated with a second, more powerful strike to the side of his head with her other foot, pushing though the pain radiating from the bite. His grip loosened and Melissa stamped hard on his face; she heard bones break, and he went limp. She wasn’t sure whether or not he was dead, but when she saw the knife in a sheath on his chest she instantly turned her back towards him and flopped down onto him so that she could grab it.
Awkwardly, she got it into her hands and manipulated the blade to enable her to cut through the thick plastic binding her wrists. She slipped, making a small cut on her hand, but refocused and tried again, even though the blade handle was a little slippery. Suddenly, she felt the binding break and her hands were free. Melissa quickly turned around and got to her knees; she held the knife in her right hand and carefully lifted up the mask so she could assess Jonas’ condition. His nose was a broken, bloody mess, and his skin had turned pale. His eyes, also pallid, made Melissa think of the infected, and as she moved her cut hand over his mouth, she saw the jaw twitch. Jonas was dead, and the mechanism that automatically infected the Reborn had given him the virus. She took the knife and slammed it into his forehead, finishing him permanently.
With Jonas dead, Melissa quickly searched his body for things she could use. There was some kind of key card in one of the pockets on the armoured vest, spare ammo clips for both the assault rifle he’d been using and for a pistol, presumably the one attached to his leg via a holster. She took his vest off and equipped herself with it, then attached the leg holster to her jeans before reaching for his assault rifle, taking it for herself. It was similar to one she’d used in Africa, so she felt comfortable adopting it as her primary weapon. Finally, she unclasped his collar, which had had a steady green light until he died, and was now red. Melissa hoped it was undamaged, unlike the last one she’d worn. She snapped it into place around her own neck; craning awkwardly to make sure the steady green light it emitted had been restored. She checked her bandaged leg again, and saw that the bandage was still intact, and her leg, although stinging, was a lot less painful than it had been when she was first bitten.
“At least I got something out of them.” She commented to herself as she surveyed the room quickly for the first aid kit. She saw it on the kitchenette counter and hurrying over to it, grabbed some gauze from inside and pressed it firmly on the cut on her hand to absorb the flow of blood where the knife had nicked her. She finished it off with a strip of adhesive tape to keep it in place. Once that was done, she brought the assault rifle to a ready position and stepped out into the corridor. Despite the detour she’d undertaken, her plan remained the same. She wanted to find Roy and Donna and then set out to rescue the hostages. Cautiously, she moved forward towards the fork in the corridor. She peeked down the left and saw the corridor was strewn with the bodies of the infected - which had presumably been too aggravated to control after her near fatal encounter earlier. She was about to check the corridor to the right when from it she heard a door open quietly. After ensuring it was set to semi-automatic, Melissa gripped the rifle tightly and prepared to face down whoever was coming at her.
“Freeze!” She yelled menacingly as she stepped out. It was a hotel security officer who was holding a pistol in his right hand, but it was not pointed at her, instead it was pointed at the floor, as if the weapon was too heavy to continuously hold at the ready. He was only able to stand by leaning heavily against the wall with his right shoulder – sliding along it as he moved forward - while using what appeared to be an unplugged floor lamp as a walking aid in his left hand. He was covered in blood, but there was only a bandage around his leg leading Melissa to suspect the blood was someone else’s. They eyed each other suspiciously, both seemingly unsure what would happen next.
“Melissa?” Roy solicited guardedly.
“Roy?” Melissa returned with equal wariness. She stood up and shot a quick glance over her shoulder, making sure it was still clear of threats. She looked back at the man ahead of her and lowered her weapon, approaching him and offering him her shoulder for support.
“I thought you were dead.” Roy informed her; his voice was weaker than she was accustomed to hearing, the pain of his injury obviously sapping his strength, leaving only his iron willpower to keep him on his feet.
“I thought so too. How did you get out of the security room? Where’s Donna?” Melissa rattled off the questions as they entered her mind. When she saw his eyes moisten with tears however, she guessed at once the answer to he
r last question.
The Ancillary stood near the Money Pit, smiling contentedly as she gazed upon the decimation perpetrated by the infected earlier.
“Ma’am?” A voice called over her shoulder. It was Sebastian and the Ancillary turned to look at him, her smile still bright and wide.
“Yes, Sebastian?”
“I observed that Jonas’ heartbeat monitor had flat-lined. It seems that while the virus was successfully administrated, his continued service was also cut short by the Witness.” Sebastian reported.
“Good. Everything is proceeding as we hoped. She has managed to overcome every obstacle the Teacher commanded we put in front of her. Now, let us be certain she’s the one. Inform your comrades she will be on the move soon, and they are to shoot to kill.”
“Understood, Ancillary.” Sebastian confirmed, but then he hesitated.
“Is something wrong?” The Ancillary asked.
“It’s just that the Teacher told us he wants her alive, that she must remain so, at least until the old world has been torn down.”
“Indeed he has, Sebastian.” The Ancillary agreed, stepping closer to him and brushing one of her hands against the cheek of his masked face. “But the Teacher never said we had to make it easy for her. If she truly is the Witness and deserves to stand after the fall of this world, then she will have the will to survive against the odds stacked against her. Wouldn’t you agree?” The Ancillary asked Sebastian, who nodded emphatically as she took a step closer to him; stopping only when she was pressed against his chest, the stun grenade on his vest awkwardly pressing against her lithe body.
“Ye... yes, ma’am.” Sebastian agreed. She lifted up his mask carefully, exposing his lips to kiss him passionately before she slipped the mask back down once again cover his face.
“Is... is it wise to put our affections on display so publically?”
“There are only the infected and the dead to see us here, Sebastian. We’re safe to do whatever we wish.” The Ancillary replied, stepping back with a look of reluctance on her face. “But we do have our duty to do. Spread the word to the men, check over the defences and —”
“Lady! Hey, lady! We’ve got a big damn problem!” A man called out to her from behind Sebastian, who spun around, drawing his pistol from his leg holster in a flash. Jim was stepping out of a door marked staff only, with a pair of Reborn soldiers at his side. Sebastian lowered his weapon as the Ancillary stepped around him.
“Did you complete your task?” She asked him calmly, but in response he just shook a fist angrily at her.
“I need to get out of here. I want the rest of my money and I want a seat on that helicopter right damn now!” Jim demanded.
“I’ll take that as a no.” The Ancillary commented, and then let out a long, weary sigh. “Jim, Jim, Jim, we had an arrangement. You would be paid to facilitate our infiltration of the hotel and casino and then you would take care of Mister Snipes when we asked you to. Is Mister Snipes taken care of?”
“Not in so many words.” Jim retorted.
“There’s no room for failures in the new world, Jim, no room at all.” The Ancillary fleetingly shook her head in disappointment.
“Yeah, well, what’s done is done. Let’s get a move on!” Jim rebutted.
“Seize him!” The Ancillary ordered, and the two men at Jim’s side grasped his arms tightly.
“Do you want him put with the other prisoners?” Sebastian asked.
“No. Break both of his legs and leave him somewhere for the Witness to find. She can decide his fate.”
“I’ll tell her everything I know, you bitch!” Jim snarled, hoping to leverage his inside knowledge for amnesty. The Ancillary responded by slapping his face hard enough to split his lip.
“You know nothing of importance. Away with him.” She instructed, waving her hand dismissively. She turned to Sebastian, the smile restored to her face. “Now, Sebastian, as I was saying. I want you to check over the defences to make sure everything is in place and then join me on the top floor in our suite. We’ll await the appointed time together while your comrades deal with the Witness.”
“Should I send some men to deal with Snipes?”
“No, the Witness will probably be with him by now and even if she isn’t, he’s of no consequence.”
“Yes ma’am. What if our men fail to stop the Witness freeing the hostages?”
“Then she will have proved herself worthy.”
Roy stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame for support while Melissa stepped into the room. She looked down at the dead, bloody body of Donna and shook her head. She didn’t know the woman at all, but she felt a surge of anger well up inside her at the heart-rending image of Donna, another fallen innocent, lying dead on the floor. What made it worse was that Melissa could feel a weight of sadness and responsibility for her death radiating off Roy. She turned to face him, holding the rifle at her side and shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Roy. I wish I could’ve gotten here in time. I wish I could’ve done more.”
“You did more than I expected. Hell, you were nearly killed coming here to try to rescue us. I still can’t believe you made it through all those infected in the casino.” Roy added, as if as an afterthought; something to say that took his thoughts away from the painful scene in front of him. He was unable to meet Melissa’s gaze as it would have meant looking in the direction of the body of someone he had grown fond of; someone who at another time and another place might have been more than a friend.
“I was just doing what needed to be done.” Melissa countered. She turned to face Donna again. “That’s what I always do.”
“I should’ve done what needed to be done and protected her. I’m responsible for her death. She was relying on me to get her through and I let her die.” Roy said on a groan of physical pain. She shot a look back at him, and then stepped closer to him, her back shielding Donna, which allowed Roy to look at her. Melissa wanted to explain something to him.
“They told everyone that when the mining town in Galgambwe was under attack and the Contractors I was with had been wounded, I picked up a gun to defend myself, the injured and the dying.” She began. “They made sure the whole world knew the story of Melissa Jones, the reporter turned soldier who fought to protect the helpless.” She continued in the same even tone. She had told very few people what she was about to tell Roy, and she needed a certain level of detachment while recounting the story.
Roy gazed at her with a questioning expression. “What does that have to do with what happened to Donna?”
Melissa swallowed hard, clicking the safety catch on and off on the assault rifle, stopping herself when she realized what she was doing.
“When we first arrived, my cameraman and I, it was just a fluff piece. Spend some time in the town, report how happy everyone there was... which would spread to the country as a whole in the new age of prosperity the gold strike was going to bring, stuff like that. The mining town didn’t even have a name then. It was just that: the mining town. We were due to stay there for a couple of months, sending back human interest stories which would allow the people in the West to watch a tiny piece of Africa starting to thrive, with fledgling programmes for education, health care, housing and light industry to create even more jobs. And all because of a mineral survey instigated by the President, because he was sure his country had to have valuable deposits of something, as it was surrounded by countries who owed their economic growth to similar surveys.” Melissa recounted, pausing to take a breath.
“When we’d been there just over a week, the Government brought in Private Military Contractors to train volunteers as soldiers and police to protect the town. We were told not to film them. So we didn’t. But in a town that consists of a few hastily built wooden structures and a whole lot of tents, you’re all going to rub shoulders everyone once in a while. I got close to them, and one of them in particular, Conrad, took a liking to me. He was married, I was engaged, and we kind of bonded over ha
ving left loved ones behind. He kept telling me it was a dangerous place and eventually, he started teaching me self defence. He showed me how to use his rifle too, and how to fire a pistol. I learned even more watching them drill their trainees. It was fun, in a way; exciting for a girl who’s most exotic out of town trip up until that point had been for a friend’s wedding in Scotland. But Conrad didn’t want it to be fun. He was a hard task master.” Melissa smiled briefly at the memory before continuing. “I got friendly with the locals too; one of them in particular, a young woman named Sanaa. She was the sweetest girl; she’d make fresh bread for the Contractors every day as a personal way of saying thanks, since she didn’t know a word of English. We taught her, Conrad and I, how to speak a little English over the time we were there.” Melissa stopped recounting her tale and took a deep breath. She was reaching the more difficult part of her story.
“I learned that Sanaa wanted to become a doctor. And because we were friends, I began to wonder whether I could help her to get a visa and come back to England, you know?” Melissa asked meekly, her voice croaking with emotion. Roy remained silent.
A World Reborn: The First Outbreak Page 17