Up From the Depths (5 page)

Chapter 8

Camberley, Surrey, United Kingdom

Jack Larkin was crouched in a doorway watching a small group of infected at the end of the street. Next to him, also crouched was M’Banga, the British Army Ghurka from the Sittang Battalion stationed at Sandhurst Royal Military Academy. This was another of M’Banga’s training exercises. He insisted that Larkin know how to survive by himself if he was to live outside the walls of Sandhurst. Larkin had the impression that M’Banga was keeping him busy so he wouldn’t think about the loss of Leesa. He still had dreams or rather nightmares that caused him to wake in a cold sweat. He was sure that at times he moaned or screamed in his sleep but M’Banga never mentioned it.

Over the last few weeks, they had expanded their patrol circle, constantly seeking supplies from houses, businesses, and apartments. This was the furthest edge of their patrol circle and only the second time they had entered the town of Bagshot. The Ghurka moved across the street like a wraith, silent and deadly. He stopped in a doorway then motioned to Larkin to hold his position, the butchers were moving away. Larkin looked around to make sure there were no stragglers then removed a map from his pocket. He slowly unfolded it and then marked where they were and the direction that the group of infected moved off in. Refolding the map, he tucked it away then slowly stood and peered in both directions. M’Banga watched the streets then motioned Larkin across. While both men were armed, their rifles were slung tight across their backs and their handguns holstered. Ammunition was in short supply and as long as they didn’t have to engage the infected, the longer that supply would last. Larkin rested his left hand on the grip of the officer’s saber that was slung opposite his sidearm’s holster. He had found the edged weapon in the basement storage of Sandhurst and carried it ever since. The Ghurka carried his traditional Kukri on the opposite hip from his own sidearm. The two men conferred in hand gestures before M’Banga tapped Larkin on the shoulder and pointed. Larkin turned and looked in the indicated direction. Diagonally across the street, faces pressed against the glass, were two small children inside a storefront. Their faces looked dirty but it could have been from the refraction or the muck that was crusted on the outside of the window. Larkin took a step towards the store but M’Banga grabbed his arm and stopped him. The Ghurka slowly shook his head then pointed to the other end of the street. Several of the infected wandered into view and began to shuffle along after the first group that had passed. Larkin crouched back down and was trying to make himself invisible when M’Banga tapped him on the arm and handed him a folded, faded, wool blanket. The diminutive warrior motioned that he should drape himself with it. Larkin nodded, and started to use the blanket to cover up with when a rancid smell, strong enough to make his eyes start watering, emanated from the cloth. He shot a glance at M’Banga who just smiled widely as he draped himself with an equally soiled blanket. Larkin covered up, leaving only a small slit to view the street. As his sense of smell was overwhelmed by the stench of the blanket he glanced up the street and saw Leesa. She was standing in the middle of the road, smiling at him, totally unconcerned about the approaching cannibals. He tensed, ready to run, grab her and take her to safety until he replayed their last moments together. Squeezing his eyes tight, he tried to flush the image of her laying on the floor, bitten and his own hand holding the Browning that would end her suffering.

The infected took no notice of the two forms huddled in the doorway or of the imaginary woman in the middle of the street. Their sole purpose was to find something to eat and some new host to spread the virus they carried. Larkin watched and waited, breathing shallowly out of his mouth so he wouldn’t have to smell whatever the blanket had been soaked in. M’Banga nudged him then threw off his own covering, packing it into the messenger bag he had slung over his shoulder. Larkin followed his example, stuffing the aromatic fabric into his old messenger bag that he had used when he commuted to the hotel on his bike. When he looked at the street again, Leesa was not there. He mentally shook himself. It was a lack of sleep and the constant stress. If he told himself that, then maybe these visions would go away. This wasn’t the first time had seen her. The two men cautiously stepped out onto the street and searched for any more infected. M’Banga moved speedily yet stealthily until he was at the window. He cupped his hands around his eyes and looked inside the store where they had seen the two children.

“Anything?” Larkin asked quietly as he watched the streets. The Ghurka slowly shook his head then moved to try the door. It was locked. Removing a small folding blade knife, M’Banga went to work on the lock. Several tense minutes passed as he worked the blade into the gap between the flange and the knob before the door popped open. He reached back and grabbed Larkin pulling him inside before closing the door and looking to see if their entry had been noticed. Larkin looked at the store, it was a small local retail/grocery store presumably owned by a family based on the pictures on the wall behind the counter. There were footprints on the floor, small and overlapping. A layer of dust was on the counter and all the flat surfaces. He tapped M’Banga and pointed to the back of the store. Larkin crouched, drew his sword and started moving along the counter while M’Banga drew his Kukri and moved in the other direction. Both men rounded the service counter at the same time and discovered nothing waiting for them. In unison, they looked towards the archway leading to the back of the store. M’Banga moved ahead of Larkin and entered first then motioned for him to follow. The back of the store was a combination storeroom, office and produce preparation area. A small desk was squeezed into one area with just enough space to slide past the stacked boxes and take a seat. Next to the large roll-up door was a stationary washtub that was part of the produce prep section. To the immediate left of the archway was a large silver door, the obvious walk-in refrigerator and freezer. Larkin was about to ask where the children they had seen were when M’Banga nudged him and pointed up. Larkin looked up and saw the same two faces he had seen outside looking down at him from the top of the storage area. The framework of the storage shelves worked as a ladder if one were small and light enough to make use of it. The two groups stared at each other before Larkin stood upright and sheathed his sword and M’Banga doing the same with his Kukri.

“Are you here to save us?” a small voice asked. Larkin presumed it to be the brother of the pair as they looked like siblings.

“Do you need to be saved?” Larkin asked. “You seem to be doing all right from what I can see.”

“Please, take us with you. It’s scary here at night,” the same voice said.

“C’mon down then and let’s have a look at you,” Larkin said. The two children moved to the end of the shelving and climbed down. Their appearance was typical of those who had lived through the initial outbreak. Their clothing showed excessive wear and their skin was ruddy with sweat, dirt and spilled meals. He blinked, Leesa was squatted down looking at each child, inspecting them then she looked up at Larkin with a smile. He stared at her image not understanding why she was here. In the past, she had only appeared in his dreams. He was sure he was awake.

“Please sir, can you take us with you?” the boy asked. Larkin was able to confirm they were siblings, the boy looked older and still had the remnants of a school blazer. His sister, silent, stood slightly behind her brother and gripped a ragged stuffed animal with one hand and her brother’s arm with her other hand.

“How long have you been here?” Larkin asked.

“Since mum left us here to fetch the car from the car park,” the boy said. “She never came back and then those things showed up.”

His sister nodded agreement but remained silent. Larkin realized that these children had been here for months, subsisting on the food and beverages that had been in the store. He looked over at M’Banga who stood to one side and watched the interaction. His features were hard to read. The Nepalese warrior looked back at him with no emotion until finally he gave a curt nod.

“Ok, let’s get your kit together and you can come along with us for a while. Does that sound like fun?” Larkin said.

Both children nodded then moved to gather what they could. M’Banga looked at him but didn’t say anything before he moved to the front of the store. The children, Mike and Rachel, had stuffed what they could into a couple of mesh shopping bags and were dragging those bags towards the front of the store when M’Banga stopped them. He motioned for everyone to get low then crouch walked to the front of the store and peered out the window. Larkin mimicked M’Banga and moved to the window on the other side of the door. Another group of infected or maybe the same group that had passed by previously, were gathered on the street with more flowing in from side streets and buildings. Larkin shot M’Banga a quizzical look then returned to the spectacle outside. M’Banga gestured to the rear of the store then moved quietly in that direction. Larkin lingered a few seconds longer then followed, Leesa was present again and pointing to the rear door. He turned to look in that direction then looked back to where she stood but she had vanished. With a large horde of infected on the street, they’d have to wait until nightfall then reassess the situation.

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Chapter 9

Firebase Cascade (formerly the City of Tenino), Washington State

“Damn, that is one fucked up way to set things up,” Mike Ackley, the former US Marine Gunnery Sergeant said as he watched the soldiers of 1st Special Forces Group, Airborne work to emplace the M119, 105mm Howitzer. He lifted the Multicam Black contractor’s cap with the subdued American flag Velcroed to the front that he wore, and scratched his head.

This long range weapon along with a dozen others had been retrieved from Joint Base Lewis/McChord during the last forage run. The plan was to get these weapons in place before winter as rain and snow would hamper such an evolution. The combat engineers had built revetments and fighting positions for the artillery pieces which allowed the Home Guard and the military personnel to place them in positions that would provide overlapping coverage. While the fighting positions were being built, Ackley had taken the time to poll the residents to see who had any experience with the operation of such weapons.

The M119 was of British design and had quite a unique way of being used. The right wheel had to be removed when emplacing the piece then reinstalled. Unlike the older artillery pieces, this was quite different. For road travel, the barrel was moved to the six O’clock position and that required the right wheel to again be removed and reinstalled. To Ackley, the whole concept of removing and replacing a wheel to get the barrel aligned was too much like masturbation without the reward. Whoever thought of this concept was someone who could sell ice cubes to the Inuit in the far northern reaches of the Arctic Circle. It didn’t make a lot of sense as modern artillery was more a shoot and scoot procedure because the advanced science of counter-battery fire was now a serious threat. That threat was non-existent in this changed new world and it was pretty unlikely that if they had to evacuate Cascade for any reason that they’d be spending time configuring artillery pieces for road travel.

A fairly unpleasant aroma announced the arrival of Shorty, Cascade’s mechanical genius. Ackley turned and looked at the short, rotund man who wore a heavily stained CAT baseball cap tilted at an angle. His coveralls had been a dark blue at one time, now they were covered in grease, oil, hydraulic fluid, spilled beverages, and slopped meals.

“That’s close enough, Shorty,” Ackley said, his eyes starting to water from the heavy stench of body odor. “You fix that trailer yet?”

Shorty, no one knew his last name and he wasn’t offering, turned his head to one side and spit a stream of brown tobacco juice then used the back of his hand to wipe the dribble from his mouth.

“It’s as fixed at its going to get,” Shorty said. “I done told Martin and them other boys that they need to start shopping for a new one. This one is about fixed at its going to get.”

Ackley thought for a moment, there were all kinds of cargo trailers at Lewis. But, only Martin’s Unimog and the military vehicles had the correct hitch attachment to use them. But, there were several trailer sales outlets inside their forage circle and those usually contained a large selection of cargo trailers. He’d mention that to Martin at the next meeting.

“What those boys building over there? Looks like a big ass circle jerk,” Shorty said, peering around Ackley to look at the artillery piece. “That sure is a right mighty big gun,” he said, punctuating his sentence with another ejection of tobacco juice and a wipe of his hand across his mouth.

“You think they need any help over there?” Shorty asked his use of the word help came out as ‘hep’.

“They got it under control,” Ackley said.

“That’s a real pretty gun for sure,” Shorty said before he turned and walked back to his shop. Ackley was glad that the town had someone of Shorty’s skills but being in his presence was a whole different experience.

Ackley’s two-way radio crackled, announcing that the last forage run to Lewis was leaving in thirty minutes. He turned from the crew working on the M119 and headed in the direction of the East Gate where the convoy was forming. He wanted to make sure the forage team knew to look for water filtration equipment and supplies. There was a serious need to prevent waterborne illnesses. He had seen what Guardia and Cholera could do and it wasn’t a pleasant sight. On the plus side, the walk would help clean out his nasal passages.

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