The Dust: Book Two - Pursuit (15 page)

‘Jefferson take the left flank, North the right.’ He loaded his rifle and wiped his eyes clean. ‘I’m going straight, you can see the problem so we need to rectify it, okay?’

‘Roger that, Corp.’ North was raring to go.

‘Let’s go!’ George ran full pelt up the small ridge and then down the grassy slope, he was aiming at the bodies closest to his three colleagues.

The savages threw stones and waved clubs, but nothing that would trouble George, he gritted his teeth and got into the thick of it. Before long, one of the flanks of the fishermans net had disintegrated and the other was failing.

Captain Foster had eventually seen the danger and turned his fire power to the side, the front flank were too busy chasing the figures on horseback. Corporal Grace was going great guns but he was running low on ammo, he called to Edwards. ‘ Ammo, I need ammo.’

Private Edwards was too busy breaking bodies in two with his rifle to listen. If only all battles were this easy. The constant rattling of his rifle drowned out any noise and he failed to hear Grace shouting over to him.

Grace then looked over to his Captain, it was no use, it was just too noisy. He decided he would try and make his way over to him. He looked down at his magazine, it was light. He clicked to single shot and blasted anyone nearest to him, he slowly made his way over to Captain Foster.

The grass was now so greasy with dew and blood it had become an ice rink. Grace stumbled and then fell on his back side. The baying crowd were all around him, he tried to get up but it was no use, he didn’t have time. Switching back to automatic, he let rip, four bodies immediately exploded, but then came the sickening click of the gun. He was clean out of ammo. He called to his Captain, but he was too busy killing to hear him. That was the last thing Lance Corporal Grace did, before he could call out again, three naked bodies were upon him. He managed to grab one of them, a girl of about fifteen, spraying blood at him, she bit down hard on his nose and ripped it clean off. Next a thumb went deep into his eye and a sharp set of teeth crunched through his genitals. Thankfully, Davey Grace passed out before they ripped his rib cage apart and pulled out his stomach, after that he was dismembered and he was very much dead.

‘Nooooo!’ Steven George could see what had happened and blasted more hot metal into the frantic mob. Now the numbers were decreasing and the three figures on horseback were starting to attack once again.

Captain Foster pulled out his service revolver and shot anything without clothes, he looked around and could see less movement and more horizon. A horse rode past him and he could see a bloodied metal blade strike one of the last remaining infected humans hard.

‘Are you alright Skipper?’ A welsh accent called out behind him.

Foster turned to see a large man, sat upon an impressive horse, holding a sword in each hand. He nodded but was soon scanning the field of battle once more for any survivors.

‘Captain!’ Private Jefferson ran to Foster’s side, his hands covered in blood, he had obviously been engaged in hand to hand combat. ‘Corporal Grace has bought it.’

‘I know son, he was a brave soldier doing his duty.’

Lance Corporal George joined them, his rifle was red hot and still smoking. ‘Enemy all down sir.’

Foster nodded.

‘I’m afraid Private North was killed sir. He was overrun by the savages.’ George took a swig from his canteen.

Foster was shocked, he couldn’t believe two of his men had fallen in the skirmish. Twenty minutes ago they were patrolling the small valley, now they were battle weary and two men down. He kept his emotions in check, an officer should always lead by example.

‘Okay men, let’s bag them up and we will take them back to camp. I don’t want them rotting out here with these barbarians. Our boys deserve better than that.’

Jefferson and Edwards started the mop up operation.

George stood next to his Captain and opened his hand. There were three bullets laying in the sweat of his palm. ‘That’s what I was down to sir, five or six more of the enemy and we would have been in dire straits.’

Captain Foster opened the barrel of his pistol, all spent cartridges fell out. He looked at George, no words were needed.

Chapter Eighteen

Roger stood next to the big blue road sign. Junction 18 Bath, they had finally made it.

‘A five hour journey you said.’ Iris walked over smiling.

‘Nothing is the same anymore, certainly not travel.’ Roger looked down the deserted motorway, it was usually jam packed with commuters. He couldn’t believe how the roads, especially the B roads, had become almost impassable due to vandalism and blocked vehicles. They had tried to stay away from the main roads as they knew it was too open and they would be prone to attacks from small bands of the
infected.
Roger mainly drove at night so they could see if any other vehicles were following them and where he could he used no lights, or at most the side lights. This, of course prolonged the journey but it did work. Now, the mid-morning sun was beating down and he had made the destination he had been longing for. The anticipation of what he might find was haunting his very soul.

‘I think we should get out of the open, at least hide the truck from any passer-by.’ Iris was worried about their safety, especially the girls. They had become a strange dysfunctional family over the past couple of days, and she had enjoyed taking on the motherly role.

‘There is a turning bay just down the road, the lorries used to stop there for a burger and a coffee, it should be the perfect spot.’

Roger and Iris strolled back to the old army truck and moved it to the turning bay. Trees stood either side and there was an entrance and exit. The burger shack was boarded up and the owner had left a large hand painted sign, ‘
Burgers have bitten the dust.’

‘God, I would kill for a juicy burger now.’ Iris licked her lips. ‘With heaps of sweet fried onions.’

‘Melted cheese and tomato sauce.’ Roger added.

‘Will you two stop it?’ Hannah protested. ‘I don’t want to hear it.’

‘Sorry Hannah, are you missing a good burger?’ Iris placed her hand on the girls shoulder.

‘No, I’m not.’ She sounded most put out. ‘I’m a vegetarian,’

Roger allowed himself a small laugh. ‘Oops, sorry my dear, not the best subject for you then?’

Hannah shook her head in disgust,
bloody meat-eaters!

An hour passed as the five members of Iris’s little family sat in the cab playing I-Spy. Lou Pepper and Alice had dozed off and Hannah had long become bored.

‘I’m going to stretch my legs.’ Roger opened the truck door.

‘Me too,’ Iris too was feeling fatigued, cooped up in the small cab. ‘You okay with these two for five minutes?’ She asked Hannah who of course said yes.

Roger stood on the loose gravel and kicked a little bit of it, a plume of dust rose into the air.

‘Damn stuff.’ Iris said wafting it away with her hand.

‘Who would think it could cause such devastation?’ Roger replied. He went silent, he looked at the ground and then up into the air.

‘Why don’t you go now?’ Iris asked. ‘Why don’t you go now to find your family?’

Roger was surprised she had suggested this. ‘I can’t leave you here, Lou Pepper, all of you, I’m responsible.’

‘Not for me.’ Iris replied.

‘I am for Lou though.’

‘I will take care of Lou. How long will it take you? A day?’

‘If that.’ Roger rubbed his chin, he wanted to cut and run down into Bath to find them. ‘I promised the others I would meet them here.’

‘And you will.’ Iris stepped closer to Roger. ‘If they are walking they will be days yet. Can you wait that long?’

Roger stayed silent, he knew he couldn’t.

‘I will stay here, if you're not back in two days, we will come looking for you.’ She smiled.

‘Are you sure?’ Roger could feel his excitement growing.

‘Take some water and get out of here. I'll tell Lou when she wakes up. You will be back by morning though, wont you?’

‘Give me till midday tomorrow, if I’m not back, well save yourselves, don’t come looking or me.’ Roger started to smile and when he tried to hide his excitement he just couldn’t. ‘Thanks Iris, I owe you one!’

‘No, you bloody
eejit.
You owe me two.’ The Irish woman kissed him on the cheek. ‘We’re a team now, whether we like it or not. Now go and find your family.'

***

‘You heading back up to Ruddington?’ Yanto asked the Captain.

‘Yes, I want to get my boys back to base and bury them properly.’ Foster glanced over at the body bags. ‘What’s become of us?’ He shook his head letting his guard down for a split second.

‘We will get through it, we are a resilient race.’ Yanto cleaned his swords on the wet grass. ‘It may take a while, but we will get somewhere, maybe not to where we were.’ He paused. ‘But if we are lucky, hopefully somewhere better.’

Captain Foster nodded slightly. ‘We need to get through the shit first.’

‘And this shit is sticky. It’s a long haul but we can’t give up.’ Yanto packed his weaponry away.

‘Are you coming back with us?’ Foster asked.

Yanto sighed. ‘It’s tempting, but I’m heading south with my friends. The lad needs to get back to Wales and I have family there too.’

‘You really should head back with us, our remit is to pick up any survivors and take them back to Ruddington.’

‘Is that an order?’ Yanto smiled.

‘I can’t force you, but let’s be honest, you wouldn’t be standing here now if we hadn’t arrived.’ Foster looked at the naked bodies scattered over the blood soaked land.

‘That’s true.’ Angel joined the discussion. ‘And we thank you for that, but I don’t think this country is under martial law just yet, is it?’

Captain Foster shook his head. ‘This country has no law anymore, you are all free to do as you please, we are just here to help and advise.’

Angel could see that she had come over a little hard. ‘I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. It’s just we are looking for loved ones, family.’ She thought of Lou Pepper. ‘People who have become close, in this hour of uncertainty. We need to continue south, if we find what we are looking for, then maybe we can find another camp and become part of the community.’

‘Of course.’ Foster understood. ‘We have all lost loved ones, or are searching for those who are missing. The only advice I can give you is to keep to the high ground and try and move in daylight. The
infected
love to hunt at night, it gives them a slight advantage, it’s as if they can smell you out.’

Angel looked at Yanto, they didn’t like the sound of what Captain Foster was saying, but both knew they wouldn’t be going to Ruddington.

‘I wish you luck Captain, and hopefully one day we will meet again.’ Yanto climbed up onto Thunderchild.

‘May God be with you.’ Foster saluted the three of them as they started to ride in the opposite direction. ‘And if you don’t believe in God, carry a big gun.’

***

Roger Clough closed the back door to his father’s bungalow. It was empty, no sign of his Dad and no sign of a forced entry. He began to think about what might have happened. Had he become infected? Maybe he had gone crazy and was now roaming the land, killing and maiming anything in his path? He preferred to think he had died somewhere else, in the pub, the library, anything but become one of
them.

He continued on foot over the fields and made his way down into Bath. He came out near the rugby clubs training ground. Now he had a problem, did he walk up the main road into Bath and then up to his house or did he take the long way around? His heart said road but his head said hills, he was within touching distance of his family and he wanted to be there yesterday.
Fuck it!
 he thought to himself
,
 and holding the rifle that Jeremiah Rosser had given him, marched straight up the main road into Bath, he wasn’t going to hang around anymore.

Staying on the pavement, he marched quickly past the closed petrol station, and the boarded up antiques shop. Roger noticed a lot of the windows on the Victorian town houses opposite were broken, it was if the mayhem the dust cloud had brought, happened months ago, not weeks. Smoke danced on the horizon wherever he looked, as sporadic fires raged without any hindrance, he hoped that his house would still be intact and his family safe.

The most nerve wrecking sound was the smashing glass, sure he could see broken windows and that wasn’t too bad but surely the noise meant someone or something was doing it. Roger ran across the road and up the small hill which wound its way up to the crescent, his own smaller house wasn’t far away from there. As he strode up the hill, the houses changed, brickwork faded and bath stone became more prevalent, even though he was scared of the eventual outcome of his journey, Roger found the familiar surroundings strangely comforting.

A crash from behind him made him spin around, waving his gun loosely in the direction from where the noise came. This really spooked him, and now he felt isolated and alone, goose pimples rose on his arms and he suddenly felt as if his life was reaching a dead end. Roger started to run, not sprint but a fast jog, enough so he could get to the top of the hill and into the open without stopping. But he hadn’t bargained for the sight that was there to greet him.

As he got to the ridge and the opening of Royal Crescent, Roger stopped running, his lungs were burning and the thought of what that damn dust was doing to his body had made him cough and splutter. He looked behind him once more to check no one was following him, there was nothing there apart from a flyer to a local pizza parlour blowing across the road and onto the pavement. Turning back to look at the crescent he was hit with such a display of barbarism, he staggered back, nearly dropping his rifle. 

On every single curved Victorian lamppost hung a body, not a naked body but a clothed one. Most had been there for a couple of weeks, the stench polluting the air was almost unbearable. Roger looked at each body, men, women and children were all there on display. He moved closer to negotiate past this area and get to his house. As he walked past the second body, hanging like a pig in the butcher shop, the urge was too great and Roger looked up. The shock made him step sideways and he nearly lost his footing, the eyes of the dead middle aged woman had been gouged out, there was nothing but empty sockets, filled with congealed, rotting, black blood.