by Dave Lacey
Duke didn’t know what they were here for, and neither did Vinnie, but it didn’t matter. They had clearly come this far relatively unscathed. But, Vinnie thought, that won’t last. They had quite a few weapons, which was a good enough reason to take them down. But the main reason, and this was the killer, was that they had entered Duke’s territory without his say so. These days, Duke is the law round these parts. What he says goes. Vinnie had given that little speech to too many people in the past, usually just before they died. The women would come in handy too, contributing to a little variety in the entertainment stakes.
And, of course, whatever it was they had come here for would be taken from them. Even as Vinnie watched, a few of them came out of the building they had entered. They stood around talking, and then two of them did something Vinnie hadn’t seen for a very long time. They smoked. After a couple of minutes, he could smell it on the breeze. He was downwind of them of course; he assumed they were inexperienced, but didn’t want that assumption to get him killed. He breathed deeply, taking in what little cigarette smoke came his way and savouring it.
It had been such a long time, but the ache and desire never went away. It was like a lost limb, you remember it so easily. For a few moments, he allowed himself to relive the past. But then he quickly drew himself back to the present. They were going to camp here for the night. Perfect, Vinnie thought. They think they’re so safe, but all they’re really doing is making it easier for us later on. When Duke arrives.
Smithy and Jack stood outside in the sun, smoking. They had found a two-hundred pack of cigarettes in a cupboard, with just two twenties missing. It was like going back in time, to their youth. When the sun shone, and a person could sit outside and smoke freely without concern for his or her safety.
“At times like this, you could almost forget we are captives,” Smithy said, closing his eyes with his face turned up to the sun. “I feel like a free man.”
“Maybe soon we will be again,” Jack said, following suit and turning his face to the glowing orb.
“You think it’ll work?” Smithy asked.
Jack pulled a face and tutted. “Now don’t go and spoil a moment,” he said, blowing smoke out through his nose slow and loud. “Maybe. I don’t know. Something killed those ‘Landers in that commune, and it wasn’t the force of the throw. We just have to find out what it was, and use it.” Jack savoured the hard buzz the cigarette had given him. He drew sharply on the last centimetre, then flicked it away into a nearby puddle of stagnant water. He held the smoke in his lungs a long time, then breathed out.
“Wow, I guess you really enjoyed that then,” said Smithy. “I feel very floaty,” Jack said, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “And a little sick.”
“Yeah, me too.” Smithy groaned and leaned forward, almost mirroring Jack. They heard the crunch of gravel underfoot, but neither had the head to look up.
“Well, you two boys think you’re so big and clever, don’t you?” Millie asked, her arms folded, her head angled to one side in question.
Smithy groaned again, whilst Jack drew deep slow breaths, hoping the feeling would go away.
“Did you ask anybody else if they wanted some?” she demanded.
Jack’s voice sounded thick and heavy as he bent over. “Smithy, will you please get control of your woman.”
Millie moved forward and clipped Jack round the side of the head. “Bill says we might as well spend the night here. It’s secure and warm, and there’s some food knocking about the place.”
Smithy nodded. “Good call. Then we’re ready to start back tomorrow, fresh and raring to go.”
“Aye,” said Jack, “and who knows what tomorrow brings?”
They settled down for the evening, gathered behind closed doors, in the biggest of the rooms. The room housed six desks and was clearly the administrative office for the site. Sleep evaded Jack again. Something felt wrong, out of kilter. He lay, one hand behind his head, the other fingering the chain round his neck. His sense of unease came also from thoughts of the return journey. Then his thoughts turned to the entire plan. He didn’t know everything about the enterprise, but he guessed the reason they were here was for plants with a high pollen yield, as opposed to the food yielding plants they already had.
But still, all this for a best guess? It didn’t sit right with him, and it kept him awake until dawn came.
Chapter 32
As Jack and the rest of the team checked their gear outside the doors of the seed bank offices, it began to rain. They had hung around for most of the day, crawling over the entire facility for anything else that might be useful. Bill looked back along the line, checking all were present and equipped. Jack lit a cigarette and passed it to Smithy, then lit one for himself. They had a long journey ahead of them. They were tired, and the knowledge that they had something to take back somehow made the trip home harder. The quick buzz from the cigarettes moved Jack to action.
They looped round the path, reaching the uphill stretch towards the exit after ten or fifteen minutes. As they began the ascent, men and women appeared from just about every available bit of cover. They were armed, and they were seasoned. The nearest was around fifty yards further up the slope. Jack’s column stopped, and Bill held a hand in the air, as if confirmation were needed. The rain continued to fall, its heavy patter covering all other sounds. But they heard the voice when it came.
“Put down your weapons and lay on the ground. Or die. It matters little to Duke.” It was deep and resonant, and it rebounded from the concrete and brick structures that remained. Nothing happened, nobody moved. “This is your last opportunity. Before Duke forces you to comply.”
“Why? Who are you?” Bill called back, his back rigid, his voice steady. “What do you want from us?”
“That’s none of your concern,” the voice replied quickly. “Do as Duke says. Now!”
Jack could see Bill thinking it over. There was no way this could end well. Their options were limited. If they laid down their weapons, they might never leave this place. If they chose to fight, they faced the same outcome. Bill chose the latter.
“Cover!” he shouted, then opened up. He strafed bullets along the line of people up ahead, distracting their aim to allow the rest of his team to evade incoming fire. The enemy dived for cover, returning fire as they did so. Bill was joined by Jack and Smithy. The three of them stood in the open, laying down suppressing cover.
“Are you fucking nuts?” Smithy barked at Bill over the noise of the guns.
Bill gave a tight smile, and winked. “I guess we’ll see,” he said through gritted teeth. “You might not think it, but my guys are experienced. Right now, they’ll be making their way forward. They are going to try to sneak up on the enemy.”
“Does that require us to die first?” Jack asked, reloading as he spoke.
Bill laughed. It had a shrill quality to it. Nerves strung taut. “Hopefully not, no. We just need to keep them occupied.” He had changed his tactics, and was now firing in short, controlled bursts. “Okay, we need some cover now. In a moment or so, they’re going to find their courage and begin to return fire.” Bill urged them to the side of the path. There, they ducked behind a concrete stopper, the kind used to demarcate two separate sides of the road during roadworks. It was the perfect cover. And Bill was right, the enemy had found their voices, and they sang loud and clattering.
Shot ricocheted all around them, as dangerous as a direct hit if it caught you. It pinged and shrieked through the air, adding to the cacophony of war.
“How many do you think they have?” Jack asked, his voice loud but barely discernible.
“Not sure,” Smithy replied. “At a guess, I’d say they had thirty or forty visible. Maybe more we didn’t see.”
“Yeah, that’s my best guess,” Bill agreed.
“So maybe two to one?” Jack asked.
“Not bad odds,” Bill said.
Suddenly, ten or more of the enemy came running down the path towar
ds them, screaming and firing as they ran. All three men behind the stopper frowned, their eyes finding it hard to believe this tactic.
Then Bill’s face relaxed. “Diversion,” he said, immediately looking away from the screaming men and women.
“Fuck me,” Smithy said, as he opened fire on them. “What a waste of life.” Two were cut down immediately. More shots came from his team, and more bodies tumbled to the ground. But then the reasoning behind it became apparent. Gunfire, like heavy hail on a tin roof, erupted along the two flanks. The lunatics that had run down the centre of the path were all prone now, dead or dying. Bill rose above their cover and sprinted across the path. A storm of fire erupted all around him as he jinked and skipped into more cover.
While the enemy’s aim was centred on Bill, Jack and Smithy moved further up the slope, staying behind cover. Bill’s own guys, Nick, Mark, Si and Mitch, had split up. Two each side of the path, busily engaging the enemy. They were also moving inexorably closer to the main gates. But it appeared, even with the losses they had sustained sending their berserkers down the path, that the enemy had numbers on them. And then came the grenades. Three of them, over the top of the perimeter fence. Jack watched their flight.
“Grenades!” he shouted. “One left, two right.” His voice rose above the rat-a-tat of the automatic weapons. Members of both sides dived recklessly for cover. The grenades went off. Unlike the movies of old, there was no huge fireball, just a very short sharp concussive wave. A number of bodies were forcibly moved by the blasts. Jack saw two of his own team fly into the air, a tangle of limbs, then land and remain still. He scrambled further up the slope, careful to stay as low as possible. Smithy was behind him, muttering to himself. The occasional profanity came across.
“We need to get close as we can,” Jack said, as he stopped and turned towards Smithy.
“You think?” Smithy replied sarcastically.
Jack closed his eyes and counted to three. “What I mean is, you and I need to get as close as we can. Before any more of our guys die trying.” Jack’s sweat was running down his face, mixing with the rain. “How the fuck did we walk into this?” he added.
“No time for that now, Jack, we gotta keep moving,” Smithy said, pushing his nose closer to the wet ground. He began working his elbows and legs again, shuffling forward past Jack. Jack knelt up and let loose a volley towards the open gates. The enemy team members ducked back nervously behind the cover provided by the perimeter fence. As they did so, Jack followed Smithy further forward. More grenades came over the top, and Jack grabbed Smithy’s foot and dragged him back behind the concrete stopper.
As one of the grenades exploded, it moved the stopper a few centimetres closer to them. Two more of their team were down. They lay, unmoving, fifteen feet from where Jack and Smithy lay behind cover. Jack figured that was at least four of them down now, possibly all dead, but he couldn’t be sure who they had lost. As he looked up, his line of sight straight up the path towards the gates, he saw Si and Mitch approach their goal. He surmised that the same was the case on the other side of the service road. He moved to his feet, still low down, and grabbed the back of Smithy’s jacket.
“C’mon, they’ll need help.” He flicked his eyes up the road towards Bill’s team. Smithy nodded his agreement. But then, as they started to move, all four members of Bill’s team exploded from cover at the same time. The leading member on each side of the road opened up, spraying covering fire across the areas where the enemy were hiding. The others pulled grenade pins and let fly two grenades from each side, evenly spaced over thirty or so yards of enemy territory.
It was carnage. Bodies became airborne, as clods of earth shot into the sky and the screams of men and women filled the air. A few seconds passed, then a minute. The gunfire had all but ceased, just a few desultory shots sounding here and there. In the lull, Bill scampered across the service road to where Jack and Smithy crouched behind cover.
“You think their race is run?” Bill asked, his face streaked with dirt and sweat.
Jack turned to look towards the gates, a frown creasing his brow. “I don’t know. There are a lot of them, and we just pissed them off in a big way.”
As he finished speaking, they all heard the rumble of an engine.
“’Landers?” Smithy asked.
Bill shook his head. “No, sounds like a diesel engine.”
Sure enough, two huge green trucks swung around the corner of the road outside the gates.
Jack licked his lips. “Jesus, what we could do with one of those,” he said, greed lighting up his features.
“I hear you, brother,” said Bill, his face filled with a similar emotion.
“So, let’s take one,” Smithy suggested. Bill and Jack turned to look at him. “You heard me. They’re on the run, now’s the time.”
“You know, he has a point,” said Jack.
Bill scraped his top teeth over his bottom lip. “Okay. How?” he asked.
“Let’s just rush them,” Smithy said, itching to get started.
As they looked towards the trucks, a voice boomed over the noise of the engines.
“You’re all fucking dead. Hear me? Dead! Fucking dead!”
Jack could hear the rasp of raw emotion and maybe a suggestion of something more disturbing. “He sounds like a man on the edge,” he said to no one in particular.
“C’mon, while they’re panicking,” Smithy urged. He broke from cover. Jack tried to grab the back of his jacket, but failed. “Millie, we’re going for the truck,” Smithy shouted as he passed Millie’s position. She followed immediately, then more of their group set out after her. Jack shook his head and hobbled after them, Bill too. They poured through the gates, firing at the retreating backs of the enemy. Some were climbing into the back of the trucks, terror of being left behind fuelling their legs and arms.
The front truck began to pull away, and those with sense chased it. More leapt out of the rear truck and made for the one in front. The rear truck dawdled along in low gear, the driver struggling to manage it. As Smithy and Millie drew level with it, Smithy jumped up and leaned through the open window of the cab. He pointed his rifle through it, and the truck ground to a halt. Millie sped past and continued on, running flat out after the first truck. Jack frowned, What was she doing?
“Millie, stop!” he shouted. He ran a few steps after her, but it was useless.
Then he saw why she had chased after the first truck. Someone was waving the case containing the seeds out of the back of the truck. Millie was going after the seeds.
“Millie, no, we can get more,” Jack shouted, pointlessly. The truck began to crawl up an incline in the road. As it slowed, Millie reached its tailgate. Jack watched in dismay as a huge arm reached out over her back, grabbed her pack, and pulled her up out of sight.
Jack prowled the road beside the stopped truck. His fists were clenched like balled hammers by his sides, his shoulders ached with tension, and he hardly registered his limp as he stared at the ground. Bill was questioning the two enemy soldiers they had captured. They knelt beside the truck, the rain soaking them through. Heads bowed, they wouldn’t answer any questions. Smithy sat opposite the truck, head between his knees, gun lying on the ground beside him, his hands either side of his head. Jack couldn’t look at him.
Bill approached Jack. “We need to find out where they’ve gone,” he said.
Jack looked at him, eyes unblinking. “Yes. We do.” Jack looked down at the two soldiers, one male and one female. Feeling his eyes on them, they looked up at him. His look said more than words ever could. His hands twitched on his rifle. The two captives saw, and their own bodies twitched in response. “And I know how we find out, too.” He looked at Bill, who raised his eyebrows. “We shoot one, then the other talks,” Jack said simply.
Bill turned to look at the two captives kneeling before him. His eyes were cold and emotionless. “I guess so. These are lawless times we live in,” he said. “Which one?” he asked Jack.
Bill nodded. Jack flicked the safety off his rifle and placed the muzzle against the woman’s head. She began to shake.
The man looked at Jack, his eyes wide, his teeth bared. “Animal,” he managed to say, before the woman broke.
“I’ll, I’ll t-tell you,” she stammered.
Jack’s finger relaxed on the trigger. “Where?” he snarled.
She shook her head. “How do I know you won’t shoot me when you know?” she asked.
“You don’t,” he said, “but taking the chance is better than dying because you wouldn’t tell me.” He turned to the man. “Really? I’m an animal? Who started this shit today?” He put his hand over the man’s face and shoved it back against the side of the wagon.
The man winced. “We were ordered to come here. It doesn’t mean we agreed,” he said, a sneer across his face.
“Yeah? I remember someone saying something similar in the past, I think. I couldn’t give two fucks whether you think I’m an animal or not.” Jack paused, trying to still his breathing. “We came here on a mission for the good of mankind. You killed our people. For what?” Jack asked, his expression open. The man ignored him. “Yeah, I thought so. No answer is better than ‘we were only following orders’.”
Jack turned to the woman. “You’re coming with us then. Any arsing us around, you die. He stays.” They both looked at him, eyebrows raised, mouths open. “I don’t care whether you live or die, my friend,” he said, patting the man on the shoulder. “I really don’t.” He turned and walked over to Smithy. “C’mon, bollocks, get yourself up, we have work to do.”