Designated (Book 1): Designated Infected (17 page)

Davies, Riley and two of the paratroopers methodically
cleared the basement, the dark hanging over the four men like an
unwelcome blanket. A set of storage doors that seemed to have been
for delivery use stood atop a small set of steps their water stained
planks warped and split into a seemingly mocking smile as the grain
twisted against the thick iron nails driven through their surface.
The night's air filtered in through the worm eaten gaps and empty
knot holes. Breathing deeply Davies scanned the room, taking it in
with practised eased. From the trap door set into the ceiling;
leading to seemingly nowhere and the green oxidised remnants of
copper-pipe-work jutting out at odd heights from the walls.

'I think this was a pub at some point.'

His nose wrinkled slightly as he tasted the stale air,
hanging limp and lifeless in the dank, foetid darkness.

'Smells like cheap lager down here, would explain the
weird set up in the main room upstairs though, thought it looked
familiar.'

Grabbing a coal shovel from the corner of the basement
he wedged it through the handles of the door shaking them roughly.
The doors rumbled and bounced against the frame as he forced the
shovel deeper into the gap behind the rust caked iron handles.

'Should hold. Okay lads, who's up for some CQB
training?'

He clapped his hands together as he stepped forward; an
excited gleam dancing in his eyes as he watched the two paratroopers
shift cautiously.

'I'm qualified as an instructor in case you're
wondering. Get the others down here, well those of em' who ain't on
stag, and lets have us a bit of fun.'

The time passed quickly for the combined forces unit, as
they met out their frustration on each other. Sharp trudged through
the cellar door, his trainer covered feet thunking softly on the
wooden treads of the stairway. The air stank of sweat and the
overriding pall of stale beer and curdled milk.

Casting his eyes around the room, he let them rest on,
one man after another taking in their ragged sweat drenched forms and
slightly laboured breathing.

Smirking, he slowly began to speak.

'Okay girls lights out, I want Roberts, Hooper and Jones
on over-watch, pick your posts and get comfortable. Woodwrow; set out
three of your lads and get them on duty in front. Rest of you get
your heads down; we rotate every two.'

Using what little they had in the way of comfortable
bedding, they picked out spots in the basement, and one by one,
slowly drifted into a tense slumber while the others kept watch
above.

17

'Anyone else hungry? I could kill for a bacon sandwich.'
Williams moaned as his statement was reinforced by the growling of
his stomach. Picking up a leaflet, Colins balled it up in his fist
and tossed it at Williams' head. 'Shut up and drink something it'll
fool your gut into thinking you've eaten. Going hungry for a couple
more hours won't hurt you. Besides, I don't doubt you ate before you
got here yesterday, Baker's been up on that roof down the street
since we got here.'

Williams gave Colins a sheepish grin as he shrugged.
'S'pose so, but to be fair we ain't that used to it like you lot.'
Several more leaflets bounced off of Williams as the others joined
in.

'That's bullshit for a start. One Para is the Special
Forces Support Group's main contributor, so don't be a pussy when
you've been through only a touch less than us, you boys wouldn't be
here otherwise.' Clarkson lifted his nose out of the book he'd found
as he spoke, 'They called you on it there Dom, no backing out now,
you dumb arse.'

Not bothering with further comment, Clarkson withdrew
from the argument and returned to his book, wetting his thumb
slightly before he turned the page. As the rest began to resume their
berating of the now red faced Paratrooper the phone began to ring.

'What, the bloody hell.'

Roberts quipped as he swung his feet off the counter top
and walked towards the phone, lifting the receiver he put it to his
ear. 'Hello?'

A
raspy voice on the end of the line drew in a small breath as it began
to speak, Roberts' lips curled into a small smile as he listened to
Baker's poor attempt at covering his voice.

'You have seven minutes to reach the end of Station
Road, a helicopter is already in position to lift the team out, I
would advise you move quickly as the Infected in the area have
already begun to converge on your location, that argument over a
bacon sandwich was not very wise.' With that the line went dead;
Roberts stared at the phone for a second before he turned round.
Screaming slightly he jumped out his skin as he came face-to-face
with six-dozen Infected pressed against the aged plate glass of the
Post Office window.

'
Move,
Move, Move.
'
Davies cried to the collective gathering of men as he dropped to his
knee and took aim at the window, he knew that even without their
teeth these men wouldn't stand a chance against the manic, brain
damaged horde beating against the glass.

'I'll cover you, make for the back door. Roberts take
point, you took the call, you know what to do.'

Davies gritted his teeth as he turned his attention back
to the window his eyes widening as he watched an Infected lift a lump
of jagged concrete over its head.

'
Now,
move it!
'

He smiled as he watched the seventeen remaining soldiers
bolt for the cellar door. Davies fixed his eye down the sights of his
Browning and watched in tense yet horrified fascination as the glass
cracked when the Infected brought the concreted lump crashing down
against it. Standing upright he kept his sights fixed on the window
as he slowly edged back towards the door.

****

Davies watched in morbid fascination as the spider web
like fractures in the glass bloomed outwards. The inch thick pane of
glass bowed and warped as the mass of writhing Infected bodies
sliding against the slick sheet increased; their bodies crushing
tightly together. His stomach lurched as he watched one begin to peel
apart at the seams. Its skin splitting under the pressure, tearing
away from its stomach and arms like an over cooked tomato. Blood and
bile spilled forth as the pressure mounted and its wailing visage was
pulped against the distending glass.

Cracks slowly began to widen as more and more of the
town's residents joined the clamour. The rock descended crashing into
the glass as it's wielder was pushed forwards his bellowing form
bursting like a orange under a car tyre.

Creaking like dry wood as the pressure slowly began to
build, the crack widened as the Infected forced themselves forwards.
The unlucky few at the front were forced through the ever widening
crevasse' like children’s putty through a press, the pulverised
and strained mixture of flesh and fluid dripping to the floor with a
wet plop.

Davies' eyes widened slightly as the glass imploded with
a soft popping crack the Infected falling forwards like a drunken
blond into a taxi; their writhing forms sliding over one another as
they clawed their way free of the sprawling orgy of limbs. He
couldn't help but smile at the situation as for all the tension in
the room the whole scene had been disappointingly anticlimactic.

John quickened his backwards retreat as the Infected
began to rise and one by one make their way towards him. Grabbing
hold of the thick oak door leading to the employee only section of
the Post Office Davies swung the door shut, turning the key in the
lock as he did so.

Leaning against the aged and slightly weathered door,
Davies struggled to get his breath back to normal, his heart pounding
in his chest as he listened to the clamour of voices and bodies on
the other side.

As he rested a false sense of security that so often
accompanied a narrow escape lulled him into inactivity. Resting his
head against the cool smooth surface he closed his eyes drinking in
the still quietness of the corridor.

His eyes snapped open as the door heaved behind him,
guttural moans bleeding through the woodwork as he jumped away. The
door shook as more and more of the cadaverous invaders threw
themselves against the unyielding surface.

So this is why he set it up, clever Staff, very clever.'

Davies had to appreciate the
simplicity of the plan, putting expert professionals and regular
soldiers into a situation where one group is of a better mental
preparedness than the other, causing an impromptu social network to
evolve between the two groups, making the
professionals
feel personally responsible for those in the regular profession.

Then introduce hunger, thirst and a persistent enemy and
it's enough to drive any person to distraction. On top of that sleep
deprivation caused by said enemy and you instantly get a fight or
flight situation. All of this accomplished by thirty-nine buildings
and the soldiers placed in them.

Shaking his head he turned and raised his side arm
again, aiming dead-centre of the door, he began to slowly back down
the corridor cursing himself for not seeing it sooner.

The anger that welled up inside him didn't help, he was
angry at not realising the situation and more so at allowing himself
to be cowed into inactivity. He knew the dangers it caused to
manifest and the threats to his personal safety not to mention that
of his team mates.

'John you dumb arse.'

He quietly cursed as he made his retreat. Reaching the
rear door of the building he was pleased to see the rest of the team
in a defensive formation waiting for his arrival.

In any other situation standard operating procedure
mandated that any one on rear guard who fell behind stayed behind for
the sake of the rest of the team. But this was different.

****

'We have four minutes to reach the he-lo, otherwise we
are stuck in country for an undetermined duration.'

The others nodded as Roberts slowly stuck his head
around the corner and watched the Infected clamour through the front
of the building.

'Right.' His voice was low almost drowned out by the
husky tones pushing through his agitated speech.

'There's an information sign at the top of this street;
I can see it from here. Jones you're the smallest and fastest here,
make it to the sign and find out where Station Road is.'

Nodding the five-foot tall corporal sprinted away,
diving into the shadows of the alleyway before making his way to the
sign. Jones was wary of being out in the open, although the Infected
had no teeth, that was of little comfort to the diminutive soldier,
the chance of secondary infection through saliva, blood, or cuts and
grazes were all too real and not something he wished to walk away
with.

Staring at the sign he couldn't help but laugh, drawing
not only strange glances from his team mates but the attention of a
nearby Infected.

The creature shambled towards the unawares trooper as he
took in the details of the board before him. Jones drank in the route
as he plotted the team's course. As he stared at the polished
surface, his eyes darting over the glimmering gloss painted sign, a
soft glimmering shape took his attention for a split second. In the
time it took for the creature to amble another half foot, Jones' hand
snapped down the hilt of his combat dagger and in one smooth arcing
motion he slid the blade up through the lower pallet of the beast's
mouth slicing its tongue in two.

The blade surged upwards propelled not only by the
strength of Jones' muscular frame but also the almost semi-liquid
dying tissue that seemed to lubricate the passing slab of tempered
steel.

Slicing through the upper pallet of it's mouth, and deep
into the lower cortex of the creature's brain, Jones watched in
morbid satisfaction as any remaining signs of life faded like a torch
in its final seconds of illumination. Dragging the blade free he
grabbed a handful of the thing's shirt and callously wiped the knife
clean before releasing the creature and watching it hit the floor
with a dull thud.

Jones made it back to the group without any further
incident, dropping to one knee he leant close to the men in front of
him. 'Right,' his hushed words, soft and quiet, 'the way I see it,
our best option is to find a way up to the roof of the opposite
building; then it's a dead sprint along them, the street we need is
actually at the far end of the road here. But with all the Infected
between us and it, well I don't think we have enough ammunition to
take them all down, thanks to Johnny come lately and the parachute
bunch.'

Davies smiled at the quip, his grin expanding ever wider
when he saw the look of disgruntled annoyance on the Paratrooper's
faces. Nodding in agreement with Jones he turned to the others
looking at Sharp for confirmation.

'Sounds okay to me, one question though Jones'