Humanity: After It Happened Book 2 (13 page)

BOOK: Humanity: After It Happened Book 2
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NO ESCAPE

 

She lay there and coughed all night.

It wasn't a normal cough; it was a deep, chesty cough that racked her whole body into convulsions and went on endlessly leaving her breathless and weak. Her skin burned and her head pounded.

She cried during the brief respite, and tried to breathe in shallow gasps so as not to aggravate the cough again.

Each one was worse than the last, and her heart beat so fast she thought it would burst.  She had no idea how long she had been like that; all measure of time was lost in the endless cycle of pain and delirium.

Effectively, that's what happened to her the next day when she was too sick to move anywhere. Others were in the room with her, but they were trapped inside their own failing bodies too.

During a coughing episode, the pressure on her cardiovascular system became so intense that the multiple haemorrhages in her system caused too much clotting for her weakened body to deal with. 

She suffered a fatal heart attack and died within forty-eight hours of exposure to the poisoned air.

 

Two of the group who had been allowed into the bunker, seemingly to rebuild their country and its infrastructure when the infection burned itself out, survived past the forty-eight-hour mark without any symptoms.

The junior medical lab assistant, Emma, sat alone talking to herself. At first glance you would think that she had seen too much and the trauma had caused her grip on reality to weaken.

It hadn't, she sat with her eyes closed and visualised her lab as she spoke her notes out loud into a small digital voice recorder.

"Infection through airborne means is most likely due to the lack of other visible means of transmission. Very fast gestation period, ranging from ten to fourteen hours, death followed within thirty-four hours of visible symptoms to all subjects monitored. Other subjects available for monitoring left the test area during gestation."

She opened her eyes and looked at the array of bodies who had died in front of her as she walked between them making observations and notes.

"Two subjects out of twenty-nine remain unaffected. Based on the available, and very limited, data I can extrapolate no common denominator to establish a basis for immunity. Gender, age range, ethnicity, physical size and appearance are effectively opposite in both surviving subjects."

She stopped recording and looked at the other survivor sadly.

The Colonel had gone downhill significantly since people started to show signs of infection. He had ranted loudly about being that last high-ranking Army officer left, making him Commander in Chief.  He shouted at the bodies, giving his authority to launch tactical missiles at Russian cities immediately before ordering further strikes on China. On seeing the lab assistant watching him he began to scream that she was a Chinese spy and ordered her arrested immediately. She wasn't Chinese, she was part Korean and had never actually been there, but she was sure that it would be a waste of time to explain this. She left him to his solitary war and monitored the other now non-survivors.

She took a small rucksack from the possessions of a soldier who would no longer have need it, collecting similarly useful items from everyone and closing their eyes when required.

She sorted her small pile into order and packed her rucksack, including the blessedly thin and light laptop and its charger; useless without power and knowing that the battery life must be preserved until another source was found. She carefully wrapped it inside a zip topped plastic bag to protect the contents.

She readied herself to sleep in another room not occupied by dead people.  She did not feel brave enough to travel at night, and planned to leave in the morning. She would have to leave the Colonel so as not to be shot on sight for the crime of looking a bit Chinese.

THUNDERBIRD TWO

 

Dan had spent two days scouting and recovering the things he needed. He had found a coach company and managed to start an almost brand new vehicle which was stored inside a large weather proof unit.

Ian was recruited to drive it, and it was now parked on the road by the farm.

Steve had found a hi-capacity Defender pickup truck. A one-thirty wheelbase with three seats up front. Neil had gone over it mechanically first, then started on the tubular steel work in the back. He had brought Mike in to consult, and a series of flexible rubber mounts were fashioned to stop the machine gun from shaking itself loose.

His additions to Leah's plan involved Steve and Lexi acting as snipers, and for that he needed them accurate over three hundred and fifty metres minimum.

The sights of the newer semi-automatic rifles were swapped out for more powerful optics, and in the absence of heavier weapons they practiced with their new HK416's.

Dan was worried that he would have to rely on Joe to fire the big gun, but Neil was the only person other than himself who had ever even seen one fired before, let alone used one. He told him as much, and said he was coming. He would hear no argument against and Dan didn't try too hard. He was glad to have Neil with him if this went down.

On their first day of sniper training, Steve declared the 416's to be inadequate.

"It's not the accuracy, it's the weight of the round" he explained. "To guarantee a kill at the distance you're looking at, we need bigger guns"

Dan considered the heavier of the hunting rifles, but these only held a few rounds and were bolt action. He thought for a while, then turned to Lexi.

"Clean and stow the HK's and remove the optics. Put the holographic sights back on please?" He said, then turned to Steve.

"Remember that army camp you went to years ago for your E&E training?"

He did.

"Good, were going in ten minutes"

RETURN TRIP

 

Dan drove hard as Steve scanned the countryside. Ash nosed his now huge snout through the nap between their seats, and when Steve gave him a sideways look his tongue slashed out like a viper to drench his face with sticky dog drool.

Steve told Ash exactly how much he enjoyed it and was answered with a short growl. He leaned over closer to his window for the remainder of the journey.

They arrived there by lunchtime, drove straight through the gate and into the camp after a drive by check.

Dan navigated them between the buildings back to where he found the soldier. He told Steve the story on the way there, explaining that he had wished he could bury the man but had an unshakeable feeling that he was being watched.

He felt much better now he had a well-trained pair of eyes watching his back; not that Ash wasn't good backup, but he had yet to master using a carbine.

"That explains this exotic piece then?" Steve surmised, patting the rare short barrelled SPAS shotgun resting on the dash where it sat when it wasn't on Dan's back.

They got out of the discovery quickly as it stopped. 'Vehicles attract fire' he remembered being told repeatedly when he was younger.

They fanned out each side to find hard cover, scanning all round looking for any sign of danger. There was none, but neither of them fully relaxed.

"People probably know what this place is, and who was based here" Dan said.

"But I doubt they know where they keep the good stuff" Steve finished for him "there's more guns here than in West Africa"

"I'm happy with these ones" said Dan as he moved carefully forward, Ash stalking by his side "but more rounds and some heavier toys would be nice"

He followed Steve through buildings past where the soldiers’ boots were still visible, eventually stopping by the unremarkable door of an unremarkable building.

The electronic keypad and swipe card system was long since rendered useless, but brute force was making a comeback. They spent some time using their 'master key' to cut a squareish hole in the thick layered metal, planning to use Neil's patented door opening piece.  He hadn't yet named his invention, and Dan thought of dubbing it 'the swipecard'.  He looked at the reinforced door, then at his still attractively unique Discovery. Not wanting to risk damaging it, he suggested that they find a disposable vehicle to use. They took a diesel jerrycan and starter pack on a hunt, both setting eyes on a large Unimog at the same time. Dan smiled; these things would go places which would embarrass their own fleet of Land Rovers.

"Yes please!" Steve said.

He tinkered with it for a while with no joy. They had to drag a generator from the vehicle workshop nearby and attach a long set of jump leads to the battery.

After spraying some flammable engine starter from an aerosol can into the air filter - a trick of Neil's - the huge Mercedes engine barked and struggled into renewed life.

They scanned around for evidence that the noise had alerted anyone, and when they felt comfortable turned back to their new addition.

Although technically the short wheel based version, this was basically a very capable off road militarised lorry. They checked it over, and it even had a weapon mount above the three-person cab. The back was like a large high sided skip, with sides thick enough to be safe from small arms fire. It was filthy, but it was a very good find.

"This is too God damned cool to leave behind" said Dan.

Steve grinned at him, "Don't you mean too valuable?"

"Yeah. That too" he replied "now let's get those tyres pumped up"

They used the generator to power a compressor, having found the tyre pressures indicated on a helpful sticker in the driver's door frame. There were two spares in the back, luckily. They would never have loaded them without a forklift.

Steve revved the huge engine, making Dan smile again. He slowly eased it towards the armoury door with the creaks and mechanical moans of being unused loud in the air.

It was backed up, and the heavy chain fixed to the towing hitch. On the other end was Neil's 'swipecard'; effectively a folding anchor made of heavy steel.

They posted it through and heard the loud metallic thud of it hitting the concrete floor below.

Dan hoped it would hold, as it was designed for slightly less resistance than reinforced steel.

Flashes of his training came back to him; "an expensive door lock is only as strong as the sixteen screws holding the hinges into the wood"

He hoped the chain was strong enough to do the job, as it wasn't wood screws he was trying to break here.

He gave Steve a thumbs up as he climbed into the cab of the Unimog, revving the engine and creeping forwards to take up the slack.

Dan ran clear, calling Ash away with him.

The chain clanked and created under the growing pressure, each knotted link snapping into place with enough force to sever a carelessly placed finger. Steve gunned the big diesel again and again, until the steel door gave its first sign of weakness. It buckled outwards slightly, at the same time as a large chunk of concrete fell away.

Steve knew what he was doing, and Dan doubted that anyone he knew had the same deft foot control as a helicopter pilot. He relaxed the pressure on the clutch slightly, allowing the pressure to ease on the door for a second before he lifted the pedal again, faster this time. More of the door surround fell away with each movement as Steve made each pull faster and harder than the last.

Eventually, with a noise like metallic thunder audible over the huge straining engine, the concrete split and the door fell away with a loud bang. The Unimog shot forward and bounced on its suspension, then stalled.

Steve tried to fire it up again, but it would only let out a wheezing noise as it refused to turn over.

He got out, full of sadness. Dan felt the same; he would've loved having the truck for a number of justifiable reasons.

Priorities.

They allowed the dust to settle before moving into the armoury. Dan had put Ash in the discovery with the windows open; he was likely to hurt himself on the rubble but could still sound a warning.

They tentatively entered, searching the dusty air with the bright torches mounted on their weapons.

"Clear" said Steve who had taken the lead. "Now, nothing silly like a fifty calibre; we need to find a few decent rifles and a boot full of seven six two"

The racks of weaponry in front of him were immense. Row upon row of different weapons, some modified and others stock. Dan took a large armful of Remington pump-action shotguns. Easy to use, reliable and capable of being used for hunting, blowing door hinges away or cutting bad people in half.

They searched, resisting the urge to take everything. There were so many weapons neither of them recognised, some bearing cyrillic or oriental markings.

A rack of rifles looked promising and Steve crowed at their success. He had found three new Mk14's, the American made Enhanced Battle Rifle with a full length rail and skeleton stocks. They were part painted in tan colouring over the black underneath.

These types of rifle had been popular for some time now; designed to bridge the gap between frontline and snipers. A kind of specialist middle ground killer. They fired a heavy calibre bullet from a ten or twenty round magazine on semi-automatic. Perfect for what they wanted, and lethal up to a kilometre away - if you were skilled enough to put the bullet in the right place.  A true sniper took years to perfect the art of long-distance shooting, of studying the physics required to thread their metaphorical needles.

They searched every inch to look for ammunition for them, eventually only finding a few empty spare magazines.

Dan ran his eyes along the racks again, ignoring the weird, wonderful and exotic.  He took another few M4's, all that remained in the rack, and put them with his stash of shotguns.

Steve called him through to another room which was decked out like a workshop with bench mounted tools along one side. There were suppressors and optics lined up, and Steve selected three of the bulbous telescopic sights which amplified light.

Small bipods, vertical and adjustable foregrips, shorter range sights like the holographic red dots on some of their other guns.

Steve grabbed everything he could, excitedly throwing all of it into boxes. Dan carried on until he found the next room stocked with various ammunition types. They filled his land rover with crates of heavy ammunition and shotgun cartridges. They filled the remaining space with 5.56, although they had lots of it at home it would run out eventually.

Steve came back in and saw that they still had a lot more ammunition to take, and no space to carry it. He ran back to the Unimog and desperately tried again to start it. He bucked it forwards in gear until it finally caught and started. Dan's joy was short lived, as it died again instantly and began to steam from under the bonnet.

"It's fucked" said Steve unhappily.

Dan stated that he was well aware of that, then looked at Steve and said "trailer!"

They walked back to the vehicle workshop and found a trailer. Its tyres were flat, and they had to drag it closer to pump them up using generator and compressor. They wheeled it back to the discovery and loaded all the boxes of ammunition they could find.

On the final sweep, Dan found a box of small suppressors, which he tried to attach to his Sig. They didn't fit, and he looked around the handguns for one that did, throwing everything he could find into boxes. They loaded every crate of ammunition they could find into the trailer until a bark from the land Rover snapped Dan’s attention back to the present. He suddenly felt that similar sense of dread as he did last time. Unwilling to push their luck any further, he shouted to Steve "time to go!"

They drove towards home, eyes constantly scanning for danger.

Their CB was finally in range of the house when they crested high ground about fifteen miles out, getting Leah on the other end.

"You've been ages!" She moaned at them "People are starting to worry"

"Tell them we're fine, and we will be home soon" he said, driving onwards.

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