Vengeance (Twenty-Five Percent Book 3) (20 page)

Someone was shouting.

Alex clawed his way slowly to consciousness, too groggy to make out the words. Then a hand grasped his shoulder and shook him.

“Alex, wake up! I swear you could sleep through an earthquake.”

He opened his eyes and squinted up at Micah. “What?”

Micah sat back down on the sofa he’d been using for a bed and began pulling on his shoes. “The spotters on the west side have seen the lights of the helicopters, and they can hear the horde. They’re coming.”

Alex laboriously pushed himself up to a sitting position, wincing at the pain in his... everything. He looked at his watch. “It’s 6am! It’s not even light for another hour.”

“I knew you’d be pleased.”

“And I thought I couldn’t like Boot any less.”

By the time Alex had put on his shoes, visited the little boy’s room, and grabbed a custard cream, everyone else was ready. They gathered in the lower lobby where the lifts and main staircase ascended to the entrance building overhead, exchanging goodbyes and last minute instructions to be careful.

Reports were coming in every couple of minutes from the spotters now. The horde was approaching from the west and the general consensus was it looked bigger than it had been after they’d taken out a good chunk of it with the collapsing buildings. Perhaps that was why Boot hadn’t come after them straight away. He’d been gathering reinforcements.

Hannah slid her arms around Alex’s neck, laying her head against his chest. For a moment he closed his eyes and tuned out everything going on around them. Laying his cheek against her unbrushed hair, he held her close and breathed in the faint, flowery scent of her shampoo.

She raised her eyes to his face. “Please don’t die,” she whispered.

“I will do my very best.”

“I wish I was going with you.” It wasn’t the first time she’d said it.

He shook his head. “You’ll be a target for Boot.”

“He wants you too.”

“But you’re important. You and Dave and Pauline and Larry can stop this outbreak. You need to stay safe. You’re far more important than me.”

She frowned. “That is not true. Everyone here needs you, more than you realise.
I
need you. Besides, I’m a Survivor now. I have all this superhuman strength and speed.”

She needed him. His chest may have puffed out a little bit.

“Do you know how many times I’ve been stabbed since this all began? Five times. I’ve also been thrown off a motorbike, beaten, almost had my nose broken twice, and been kneed hard in the unmentionables. So superhuman strength and speed? Not as much as advantage as you might think.” He wiped his thumb across a tear creeping down her cheek. “When all this is over I will teach you how to fight and then you can be a kickass superhero in a skin tight black leather outfit whenever you want. But right now, I need you to stay here and be safe.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Skin tight black leather?”

“Or whatever.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It was just an idea. I’m flexible on the colour.”

She laughed softly and he bent his head to press a lingering kiss to her lips. When he stepped back, he had to force himself to let go.

She’ll be safe here, he told himself as he followed the others who were leaving up the stairs. Sam, Claire, Ben and Rick were staying with the doctors and Leon and his family, but they didn’t need the protection. They would be safe. They’d locked the whole facility down. It was the most secure place in the city.

Hannah would be safe. They’d all be safe.

. . .

The Corn Exchange theatre lay to the west of the city centre.

It had been chosen as the rendezvous point both because its convenient central location enabled travel to any part of the city relatively quickly, and because the old stone block building was more easily defendable in an eater related emergency than the glass-covered architecture of newer buildings. Also, everyone knew where it was, even in the dark.

Alex and Micah had a very cramped ride in the APV to pick up their bikes from where they’d left them the day before at the flats, then they drove in convoy to the theatre.

Alex climbed off his bike, pulled off his helmet and looked around. Sunrise was still almost an hour away and though the sky was already tinged with pink and purple, at ground level it was still gloomy. The shrouded, empty streets felt creepy, even to someone who could see in the dark.

Micah’s radio crackled, startling Alex. He hugged his arms around himself and pretended he hadn’t just almost jumped out of his skin.

“This is Eagle Three,” Pete’s voice said from the speaker. It sounded like he was whispering.

Micah unclipped the radio from his belt. “What is it, Pete?”

“The horde is passing me now,” he said. “One of the choppers is with it. No sign of the other two.”

“Can you tell where they’re heading?”

“That’s a negative. They’re just going straight along Bury Road. The horde definitely looks bigger, like they’ve picked up more eaters. I can...”

His voice cut off.

“Pete?” Micah said. “Pete, are you there?”

“Sorry,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “Chopper just flew right past and I had to hide. Anyway, I could circle around them once they’re past and find another building to watch from.”

Micah looked at Alex. Alex shook his head.

“That’s okay, Pete,” Micah said. “Bates has got more people moving in that direction. You keep an eye out from where you are.”

“Roger that. Over and out.”

Micah replaced the radio on his belt. “He’s really getting into this, isn’t he?”

“That’s Pete.”

Dent climbed from the APV and walked over to them, her radio in her hand. “Bates is already setting up people along the horde’s projected route, but he can move them if needed. He’s extremely efficient. I wonder why he never joined the military. He’d have made an excellent officer.”

Alex could have told her Bates would never join the military because he was a paranoid conspiracy theorist who was convinced the government couldn’t be trusted and, until three weeks ago, had been convinced that Survivors were plotting to take over the world. But he didn’t. As uncomfortable as Bates still made him feel, Dent was right in that he was very good at this kind of thing and they needed him and his fellow nutjobs. He had the defence running like a machine whose operator owned shares in WD40.

The sound of a car engine drew everyone’s attention and they watched a pair of headlights coalesce into a red Porsche. It was funny how everyone was going for the wildly expensive sports cars when they didn’t have to pay for them.

Janie jumped out of the driver’s side door, Brian emerging from the passenger seat. Penny and Bates had to flip forward the seats to get out the back. Bates was talking on his radio, still co-ordinating everyone’s movements.

Janie jogged up to Alex and Micah. “Thought you might want to see this,” she said, handing Alex an A4 sized piece of paper. “One of Boot’s helicopters flew over East Town ten minutes ago and dropped a load of them.”

Alex smoothed out the crumpled paper.

“What’s it say?” Ridgewell said, wandering over to them.

Alex read the printed message out loud. “Residents of Sarcester, my name is Harvey Boot. You’ll no doubt have heard of me, although much of what you’ve heard is probably lies. I have no wish to harm you. The truth is, I want to help you. I can provide you with protection, food, and everything you will need to survive the coming winter. In return, all I require from you is your help. I am sure you are all reasonable people who understand the need for law and order at these trying times. I can bring that to you. There are two men, however, who have made it their mission to thwart my plans for peace. Their only desire is for violence and chaos and they need to be stopped before they can perpetrate more harm. I therefore request that you surrender Alexander MacCallum and Micah Clarke over to me. You have half an hour to comply.”

“Wow,” Ridgewell said.

Alex read it again. “Who uses the word ‘thwart’?”

Micah took the piece of paper from him and studied it. “I feel strangely honoured.”

“There’s
what
?!”

Everyone turned to look at Bates.

“No, I’ll deal with it,” he said into his radio. “Where are they now? ... Keep me updated.”

“Bates?” Dent said. “What’s up?”

He leaned down into the car and came out with a map. “There’s a second horde,” he said, unfolding the street guide onto the bonnet and producing a small torch. “It’s much smaller. One of the other choppers is leading it.”

“Did you say a second horde?” Alex said, walking up beside him. “Where?”

“They’re entering the city here.” Bates pointed to an area on the north west edge.

A feeling of dread skittered up Alex’s spine. “Which way are they heading?”

“East.”

Alex drew a line with his eyes across the map, hoping he was wrong. He wasn’t. “The lab. They’re heading for the lab.”

He ran back to his bike, grabbing his helmet. He should never have left.

“Alex, stop.” Micah grabbed his arm.

Alex shook his hand away. “I have to get back there.”

Micah stepped between him and the bike. “Stop and think for a second. Boot is after us.” He held the paper up and shook it as evidence. “He’s sending the biggest horde after us. If you go back to the lab, you’ll be leading both hordes back there.”

Alex stopped pulling his helmet on.

“You know I’m right,” Micah said.

He did. He wished he didn’t.

“We’ll go,” Dent said. “That lab and those doctors may be the only hope we have of stopping all of this. Can you take down the chopper leading the horde coming for you without us?”

Bates rolled his eyes. “The military and your superior attitudes. Always think you’re the only ones who can get the job done.”

Dent stared at him for a few seconds then smiled. “Bates, I like you. I don’t know why, but I do.”

Alex might have been imagining it, but he thought he saw Bates’ chest puff out a little.

“Let’s go,” Dent said, waving one hand at the APV as she strode towards it.

Ridgewell, Collins, Porter and Hudson followed.

“Try not to blow yourself up this time,” Ridgewell called as he climbed in.

“But it was so much fun,” Micah called back.

The door slamming cut off the sound of Ridgewell’s laughter. The APV’s engine fired up and they took off in the direction of the lab.

“As we no longer have the APV, we’re going to have to change our tactics somewhat,” Bates said. “Here’s what we’re going to do...”

Darren fought down a wave of nausea as he held the door open.

He saw Harris press the trigger, but the muffled pop of the pheromone cartridge firing was drowned out by the sound of the helicopter’s engine. In the low pre-dawn light he couldn’t see the cartridge detonate either, but the horde kept on course. He pulled the door shut quickly, not wanting to look down at the seething mass below for longer than absolutely necessary. Harris laid the bug gun on the seat between them.

It was a strange nickname for the projectile weapon they used to launch the pheromone cartridges. Trying to distract himself from the movement of the helicopter and the thought of the very long drop to the horde on the ground, Darren’s mind wandered, trying to remember who had come up with the moniker. Probably one of the scientists back at Omnav, before Boot had them all killed. He remembered it had something to do with reminding someone of those plastic kids’ toys that fired hollow balls. Kelly, that was it. Doctor Ray Kelly. He’d drawn insects on the balls for his son’s toy when the kid developed an entomological interest. From then on his young son had called it a bug gun and Doctor Kelly had called the pheromone guns the same thing when he’d based their design on the toys.

Darren also remembered Doctor Kelly begging for his life when Boot ordered them all infected after they refused to continue obeying him. He pushed that memory away. It was Kelly’s own fault. At times like these you did what you had to. To survive. To come out on top.

“One mile to the facility,” Fitzwilliam said from the pilot’s seat.

“Good,” Chester replied from the passenger seat beside him. “Just keep it slow and steady. We don’t want to lose these buggers in the dark.”

“Should’ve brought Jessup with us,” Harris said.

“Mr Boot wanted him with the main horde, so he can spot MacCallum if he shows up,” Chester said. “He doesn’t want anyone else to have the pleasure of killing him.”

When
he shows up, Darren thought. There was no question of
if
. MacCallum had a ridiculously overdeveloped hero complex. How he stayed alive, Darren had no idea. Of course, he’d had the perfect opportunity to fix that back at the hotel in Cambridge. He still wasn’t entirely certain why he hadn’t shot the Survivor. He’d told himself it was because Boot wanted to kill MacCallum himself. Sometimes, he even believed it.

“Did you see that?” Fitz said, peering ahead of them.

Darren leaned forward, looking over Chester’s shoulder. “What?”

“I thought I saw something moving up there.”

“What kind of something?” Chester said, also staring through the windscreen.

“I’m not sure. A car maybe?”

Now all four of them were peering into the gloom. The helicopter’s headlights illuminated the street ahead to some extent, but there were still large pockets of darkness everywhere, the lights making it extra hard to see anything not within their range.

A shape shot from a side street ahead of them, swerving round the corner into their path and driving straight for them. It took Darren a moment to recognise it as the soldiers they’d been after for days. Bullets pinged off the helicopter’s hull. Fitz pulled on the joystick, lifting them into the air and swerving away.

“That damn humvee,” Chester said.

“Armoured Patrol Vehicle,” Darren muttered, trying to ignore his gut which was now lurking somewhere around his feet.

“What?”

“Farrell used to make these things when he worked in the factories. He called it an Armoured Patrol Vehicle. APV.”

“I don’t care what it’s called; it’s a pain in my proverbial. How many grenades do we have left?”

Fitz checked the readout on his dashboard. “Twelve.”

“Good. Let’s get rid of them.”

The APV turned off the road before it reached the horde. Fitz brought the chopper back around in a sharp turn and flew in the direction it had gone. Cresting the intervening buildings, they found the APV in the next street across, racing away from them. Fitz sped after it.

Darren watched the APV’s roof mounted machine gun rotate towards them. “They’re going to shoot!”

Fitz veered right as the gun opened fire. Darren’s seatbelt dug into his chest, his heart pounding as he was thrown to his left. Beside him, Harris cursed as he slammed against the door on his side.

“Get us closer,” Chester said, clutching the control for the grenade launcher.

Fitz pushed them up above the surrounding buildings and circled to come at them from the side. Darren dug his fingers into the leather seat beneath him. The APV’s machine gun swivelled towards them, but wasn’t fast enough. Chester fired as they sped over the moving vehicle. The thump of the explosion shook the helicopter.

Darren looked back, pressing his face to the window next to him to see what damage the grenade had done. There was a hole in the centre of the street. The APV was driving away from it, unharmed.

“Missed,” he said.

“
Damn
it,” Chester snapped. “Fitz, take us down to twenty feet so I can aim at them instead of in front of them.”

“That’ll take us between the buildings,” Fitz said. “I’ll have to slow down and we’ll have nowhere to go if they start shooting.”

“I only need a few seconds,” Chester said. “Do it.”

They followed the APV as it turned a corner onto a road running back towards the horde. Fitz took them down, dipping below the roof level of the surrounding three and four storey buildings. The machine gun swivelled towards them.

“Chester?” Fitz said, sounding nervous.

“Just a little lower,” Chester said, staring at his targeting screen.

“Why aren’t they shooting?” Darren murmured.

Harris replied, even though the question was largely rhetorical. “Maybe they’re out of ammo.”

A feeling of dread shivered up Darren’s spine. Something wasn’t right. As he stared at the APV, a flash caught his eye. A reflection of the helicopter’s headlights on something ahead of them.

Something suspended between the buildings.

“
Pull up
!” he yelled.

The chopper juddered as Fitz jerked the joystick back. Chester shouted.

Then they hit.

Darren was thrown forward. The air exploded from his lungs, the seatbelt ramming into his chest. Someone was screaming. The world spun and flipped until he no longer knew which way was up. The screech of tortured metal filled his ears.

A thunderous crash as they hit the ground and skidded across the asphalt.

Glass shattering.

His body lurched and jolted.

The screaming stopped in a sickening gurgle.

Darren sank into unconsciousness.