Dead Ahead (30 page)

“What the fuck was that?”

“You’re first and last chance slipping through your fingers?” Zoe said with a sigh.

“Not
that
! That, down on the beach, look!” He put his eye to the telescope again and caught up with the Argo in time to see another explosion tear the beach apart around them, somehow the Argo had escaped a second blast. Brandon looked away from the scope and then scanned up the beach till he found their attackers, he couldn’t see clearly enough to make out what it was but it looked like a big truck, another round came from it, Brandon scanned back to the Argo which swerved just in time to avoid the blast.

“They’re under attack! It must be the soldiers from the bunker!”

“Let me look!” Zoe said urgently, Brandon reluctantly let her look and watched with the naked eye, he really couldn’t make anything out though.

“Oh God,” she said almost inaudibly as hailstones started to hit the window, “Oh no! Someone just fell off the back!”

‘BOOM!’

A massive bolt of lightning hit the tall tower of the power plant and physically shook the farmhouse.

“I can’t wait any longer. I’m gonna.... Come on, we’ve got to
do
something!” Brandon shouted over the storm picking up his shotgun.

“I can barely see anything now, the hail it’s too thick. Oh God, Brandon! Oh God, Oh God! They’re gone!

_________________________

The kettle whistled on the old gas stove and Sarah dragged her eyes away from an old copy of Good Housekeeping that she had found in the living room. She pulled herself up using the aged worn wooden table as leverage and crossed the kitchen to make herself a cup of a nice cup of Earl Grey tea: no milk, no sugar, just the tea, it was just what she needed.

The old farmhouse was such a lovely place, it was just like the house she imagined she would settle down to retire in one day: high on a hill in relative isolation, perfect; apart from the impending nuclear disaster that was.

She dug through the cupboards to put together some lunch for her and the kids; beans. Beans and what? She opened the large SMEG fridge absently and was hit by a wave of stench so foul that she almost vomited on the floor, she slammed the door shut again and held herself up by the worktop till the feeling passed.

‘Beans and what?’
she asked herself again. Hadn’t she seen a chicken coop outside as she arrived? If the chickens are ok then surely the eggs must be fine. Humming softly to herself she made her way to the front door, her hand wavered at the handle. Was it safe to go outside? All the Zombies were down at the plant, weren’t they? She took the old Sheppard’s crook from beside the door and unlocked it.

The sky was dark and oppressive and it had started to spit a little so she skipped quickly round the side of the building towards the coop. Thankfully she didn’t actually have to go in amongst the chickens as there were small hatches lining the coop its self, all she had to do was open the small doors to see if there were any eggs, besides, there was a large pallet leaning against the door, probably because the latch didn’t work properly. Carefully she rapped the crook against the wooden wall to see if the chickens were still alive in there: something flapped and rattled around so it seemed safe enough.

Slowly she opened the first door, alas there were no eggs. The second door was equally fruitless and it wasn’t till she reached the fourth door in the line that she finally found a group of thee eggs, she couldn’t believe her luck, just enough for one each. Softly she reached in a plucked out two of the eggs, placing them safely in her pocket, but as she reached in for the third something sharp snagged her knuckle and wouldn’t let go.

Chapter

23

War Machine

Old Ed had lived in Glentree Farm his whole life, his father had owned it before him and
his
father before him, but it looked like that was where it would end. Both his sons had seen themselves too good to be farmers, one of them moving to London and the other to Manchester, he didn’t really see them too much now either, not since Margaret died anyway.

Not much of that mattered now though, not since these dead buggers started marching around the country eating up all of his livestock; he had nearly been eaten by one of his sheep the other day,
him
, eaten by a
sheep
, the world had fallen on its arse!

It was when the Plant had started its constant bloody wailing that things had got really bad round here. He remembered when they had built that bloody blight on the countryside in the eighties, he had hated it then and he hated it now. Got a good old pay out for the land though, it was the only reason he was still here; till today.

The wailing didn’t sound good, it meant something was wrong down there, and if there was something wrong down there then it was nothing good. It was time to leave; he packed everything that meant anything to him, which was pretty much just his shotgun and Fern his faithful old collie; his younger collie, Meg had got herself bit by one of the psychotic half eaten sheep the stupid little bitch.

He was just about to head off when he remembered the chooks, he had been living off of their eggs for the past few weeks, and a couple of the birds too, he didn’t want to go leaving a whole coop full of chickens to go to waste now, did he? He shuffled his way back round the side of the house to try to round them up and chuck them in the back of the van.

While in the coop trying to catch the little buggers he heard Fern barking; Fern never barked without good reason, so he knew something was up.

Chicken in hand he stepped out the coop to see what all the commotion was about when he was confronted with the walking corpse of young Tom the butchers boy, the one with the squinty eye; Edgar had never been able to work out just how that boy had been able to see where the hell he was going with an eye like that, but he managed to get along just fine. Ed said boy, but he was in his thirties now and old Jack the butcher was five years dead. The eye was still there, pointed at the coop while the other was pointed at Ed and his chook. Tom gave a gurgle and came at him all arms outstretched. Ed couldn’t do anything but try to beat him away with a flapping chicken, which as it turns out was just the right thing to do, Tom grabbed the chook and munched right into it, forgetting all about old Ed who snuck round the side of him and latched him in the coop. Just for good measure Ed jammed Tom in with a good sturdy blue pallet and scarpered in his old tatty red van full to the gun wholes with red diesel.

‘Try and slap me with a fine me
now
PC Plod!’
he thought as he trundled off down the road.

_________________________

Sarah carried the tray up the stairs unsteadily, it wasn’t easy to do with the tea towel wrapped around her hand to stem the flow of blood; she was feeling a little dizzy too but she had never been good with the sight of blood, least not her own. Those poor chickens must have been ravenous to have dug in to her like that, but then, maybe her small fingers looked like fat juicy worms to them in the dim light; either way the cut wasn’t too bad, she would survive.

She couldn’t wait to see the look on Zoe and Brandon’s faces when she brought them the egg and beans, real food for a change; god knows they could use it. She took a moment to shake off the dizziness on the landing before heading up the last small flight of stairs; it was so strange, she had never felt quite like this before.

She could hear muffled voices from one of the bedrooms, but just as she was half way up a great ‘BOOM’ shook the house and scared her so much that she dropped the precious meal all down the stairs. She was absolutely livid. What were those stupid children playing at? She stormed up the last few steps listening for their voices which, wasn’t hard as they were practically shouting; she couldn’t hear all of what they were saying, but she caught enough.

“....I can’t wait any longer. I’m gonna come....”

“....I can barely see....it’s too thick. Oh God, Brandon! Oh God, Oh God...!”

That was enough for Sarah, she burst through the door.

“Just what the hell do you think you are playing at you two?” she screamed into the room. But they weren’t on the bed, as she suspected, but standing at the window; Zoe holding a telescope and Brandon quite literally with his hands in his hair pulling it out. “What’s going on?” Sarah asked confused.

“They’re gone!” Zoe said with tears in her eyes.

“Who’s gone?”

“They’re under attack!” Brandon shouted impatiently, “Someone was firing missiles at them; we have to go help them!”

“No one is going anywhere!” Sarah shouted back.

“I’m sorry, Brandon, they’re gone,” Zoe said almost in a whisper over the Hail hitting the window, “the Argo, I saw it blow up, they’re gone.”

“No, they can’t be!” Brandon almost pushed Zoe out of the way to look through the telescope. Sarah could see his shoulders slump as he caught site of the fire which was but a small red glow down by the beach, “They can’t be,” Brandon whispered.

“I’m sorry, Brandon.” Sarah said as she laid a hand on his shoulder, which was as much to steady her as it was to comfort him.

“No!” he shouted as he turned round, almost knocking Sarah over “They’re not dead! We have to go help them!”

“Now you listen to me young man,
I
am in charge here and no one is going anywhere until someone from down there gets in contact with us. Even if they
are
gone, the others still down there have a job to do, a very important job, and they don’t need silly teenagers getting in the way! Now have I made myself clear?”

Sarah felt quite proud of herself putting the kids in their place, it had been a long time since she had had to be so stern but she thought she handled it well, the looks on the children’s faces told her so.

“Sarah?” Brandon said meekly, “Your nose....”

Sarah put her fingers to her nose to see what Brandon was talking about; she pulled her hand away to see a good amount of blood on it, quickly she put the tea towel to it to mop up the blood.

“What happened to your hand?” Brandon asked.

“Oh it’s nothing. It happened when I went out to get some eggs, the chickens did it”

“What chickens?” Zoe asked.

“In the coop; I made you both egg and beans but I dropped it on the stairs when that big bang happened,” both of them were looking at her with very suspicious eyes.

“Are you sure it was a chicken?” Brandon asked after a long uncomfortable pause.

“Of course I am!”

“You’re nose is still bleeding,” Zoe said calmly.

Sarah put the towel back to her nose making her voice sound strange even to her ears, “Of course I am sure, I think I would know a chicken if I....” she paused. Did she know it was a chicken?

“If you what?” Zoe said picking up her gun.

“....if I saw one!”

“
Did
you see one?”

“I.... it was a
chicken
coop, Zoe!” Sarah started to blink away the thick tears forming in her eyes. Was it a chicken?

“You’re eyes are bleeding, Sarah,” Zoe said softly, “I’m sorry, it’s best if we do this now; it hurts to turn, I’ve seen it”

Sarah was dizzier than ever, her stomach was in knots and her head felt like it was going to pop. “What.... what are you talking about?” she blinked, her eyelashes sending red spots onto the inside of the glasses. Her stomach heaved and she felt a metallic taste on her tongue.

The girl was right, it was the MLRV, and she only had moments left to live. Sarah felt herself drop to her knees.

One last time she heard Zoe say.

“I’m sorry....”

_________________________

“Where the hell are they?” Michaels screamed at the top of his lungs.

“I’m sorry, Sir. It’s the hail we can’t track them!” voiced one of the plebs.

“They didn’t spend three million on a war machine that could be defeated by a bit of weather, you idiot! Bloody find them!”

“Are you sure they weren’t in the buggy, Coleman?” said Knox.

“No Sir! The heat sensors picked up two targets moving away from the vehicle just before it blew.”

“Very well....” Knox said, “Carter...!”

“Yes Sir!”

“Follow the heat signatures last course, and keep vigilant, they know where we are now and may set up an ambush.”

“Ha!” laughed Michaels, “They can try!”

“I wouldn’t put too much faith in the TC360 Sir,” said Knox, “even our best tanks aren’t indestructible”

Michaels looked at Knox like he had insulted his mother, “I think you underestimate the power of the vehicle, Knox; and I also think you overstep your mark! Now follow those insurgents!”

“Yes....Sir!” Knox said begrudgingly, though gave no further orders as he had already issued them.

It was a farce. It was a bloody farce. Craig just tried to keep out of it, just keep his eye down the sights of the ridiculously large chain gun at his fingertips.

He had no idea why they were here; just following orders, that’s what it all came down to, following orders. If it hadn’t been for Knox, Craig White would have been out of there in a flash; he knew what he was doing, old Knoxy, he always managed to scrape the boys out of the worst situations, and they didn’t come much worse than this. Not that Craig wasn’t scared of Knox, he was terrified of him; when the big bastard laid it on he laid it on thick, but it was more than that; there was respect, not always mutual, but respect on Craig’s part anyway. Knox knew his men’s limits and only pushed them to the brink, never going overboard. It was this twittering ball sack Michaels that was fucking shit up; Craig didn’t know why Knox didn’t just smash him and be done with it.

But where Knox went his men went, and if that meant to the grave then so be it. But there won’t be a grave this time will there? What a cluster fuck this was.

“White....”

What were they doing trying to stop people from stopping Michaels from letting a nuclear power plant go bang? Wasn’t this the opposite from what they should be doing? Craig sure didn’t join the army to kill people, not like that twat Harper, Craig wanted to save people; but there weren’t really very many people left to save, so why the hell were they trying to kill Rigby, Ford, Clarke and Bale,
and
the scientists for that matter? Especially seeing as there were women scientists among them.

“
White...!
”

‘Oh shit!’
“Yes sir?”

“Stop daydreaming against that gun and actually look down it.
Vigilance...!
”

“Yes Sir!” Crag said with gusto. He had no idea where Knox had picked up the word ‘vigilance’, but it was one of his favourite words to bark at them. Maybe he thought it made him sound smart?

“Tree targets spotted up river on our twelve, Sir. But there are gates in the way!” Coleman said in his slightly higher than normal pitch; or ‘Bitch’ as the other lads called him, he wasn’t much of a soldier but he was a freaking genius with all these modern weapons that the army kept throwing at them; Craig didn’t think he got enough credit for that, but he was shining within the TC360.

“Blow the gates with the forward rockets Coleman, aim for the sides! Urk; lay down suppressing fire with the turret!”

Urk started firing almost before Knox was finished speaking; not very bright but he loved the big guns, he probably missed with every one of the three thousand rounds he fired. All of a sudden Urk came rattling down from the turret seat, in Knox’s blood stained jacket, landing on his arse just beside Craig.

“Summit shot it me,” Urk said in his slow booming voice, “nearly got me too!”

“The turret capsule has bullet proof glass you great lummox!” Michaels squawked, “Get back up there and keep firing!”

“Locate that sniper, Coleman!” Knox shouted.

The TC360 shook as the gates blew free from their fixings and Carter took them in to the tunnel. It was a stupid manoeuvre, taking a tank, that was only vulnerable from above and below, under a bridge; but who was Craig to say?

“Can’t locate the sniper sir,” Coleman said uneasily, “and the three ahead are gone.”

“That’s fine, lad,” Knox said, “If it’s Jim Ford out there I wouldn’t expect you to, but remember, Rigby, Clarke and Bale are still out there people! Let’s get to it!”

“Sir,” Craig said sharply

“What is it, White?”

“The casualty, Sir,”

“What casualty?”