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

They were silent while Alex thought through everything Micah had said. He hated to admit it, but he was right. They didn’t know what Boot’s motivations were. If only it was as simple as running and leading Boot away, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“Remind me again why we have to be the ones to stop him?” Alex said.

Micah shrugged. “I’m still trying to work that one out myself.”

At the sound of the door opening behind them Alex looked round to see Leon and Sam walk out.

“You all right?” Leon said.

Alex glanced at Micah. “Yeah, I’m all right.”

Sam walked over to him. “You don’t have to worry about us, we’ll be okay. You can just do your superhero Survivor stuff and catch Boot and we’ll stop the eaters. We have lots of good ideas. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Alex wished he shared Sam’s optimism, but he smiled anyway. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Darren Frobisher attempted to relieve the stiffness in his long legs by flexing his muscles without moving.

When the dull ache remained, he shifted in his seat a little, hoping the tiny movement wouldn’t upset the balance of the helicopter. To his relief, they didn’t plummet to a fiery death. After waiting half a minute to be certain, he got up the courage to move some more, inching around until he was stretched out sideways. Next to him, Harris threw him an irritated look as his own legroom shrank. Darren shrugged and mouthed an insincere apology, but didn’t pull his legs back. At a mere six foot three, Harris was one of the smallest of Harvey Boot’s security force. Darren’s extra half a foot needed the space more than he did.

He glanced out the window next to him at the predominantly green scenery flying by beneath them and immediately snapped his gaze back up, his heart pounding. Mile upon mile of fields, towns and villages were passing, but he didn’t need to see them from this high up. And eater hordes of course. Always the eater hordes.

Attempting to ignore the very long drop beneath them, Darren looked over at the second helicopter off to their left. He could just see Chester inside, sitting next to Tim Pinner in the pilot’s seat. Behind them Jessup’s large frame mostly obscured their boss, Harvey Boot, and beyond him the two women. Boot probably got a perverted thrill at seeing his creations roaming the countryside, either devouring or infecting everyone they found.

The third helicopter was somewhere behind them, but he didn’t dare twist around enough to see it. Turning to the front, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Here they were, flying a couple of hundred miles in these ridiculously small and fragile machines, and for what?

When Darren started working for Boot six years ago, it had been primarily for the money. Yes, he’d had to move halfway across the country from his home in Bristol, but it felt good to have a change, especially after he’d caught his girlfriend of three years cheating on him with a friend he’d known since school. A fresh start was exactly what he needed, and he admired Harvey Boot. The man had clawed his way to the top, taking over one of the most powerful corporations in the country. If Darren was going to get anywhere, he couldn’t do much better than learning from Harvey Boot.

Now, though, he wasn’t so sure. Not that he would ever say anything to anyone. There was always the danger something like that could make its way back to his boss and he’d seen firsthand what happened to those who dared to speak out. He’d even been complicit in it, even though he was strictly following orders. But those people had been stupid, putting themselves in a fight they had no chance of winning. Darren felt no shame for what he’d done. They’d brought what happened to them down on themselves. The world, their part of it at least, had changed. Self-preservation was what would keep him alive and, if he was smart about it, he could even come out on top.

He just wished coming out on top didn’t have to involve so much flying.

Boot’s helicopter began its descent towards the city of Cambridge and Darren’s stomach lurched as they followed. Despite his reluctance to look down, he couldn’t help admiring the historic universities clustered around the river Cam, their ancient architecture now unappreciated by the thousands upon thousands of eaters roaming the streets in huge hordes. He suppressed a shiver and looked away.

After all this was over, he intended to go somewhere completely devoid of Meir’s disease. Maybe he’d buy an island with the substantial bonus Boot had promised them once he sold the weaponised version of the virus. An island he could reach by boat. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t be getting quite enough money for an entire island, but that didn’t matter. Just so long as he never had to see another eater again.

After passing over the historic city they followed Boot’s helicopter down to the car park of a two storey hotel where they’d be spending the night. Darren closed his eyes until he felt the chopper touch the ground. Takeoffs and landings were the worst bits. Although the parts in between weren’t a lot of fun either. He opened his eyes to find Harris watching him. Darren stared back, silently daring him to say something. Harris looked away, a tiny smirk on his face.

When all three helicopters were settled, their rotors lazily easing to a standstill, Chester got out with one of the pheromone guns and fired a cartridge into the air. The couple of dozen eaters heading towards them changed direction, gathering in a group some way away beneath the detonation point.

With the immediate area clear, Darren opened his door and climbed down from the flying monstrosity. He resisted the urge to drop to his knees and kiss the ground.

“Bish, Jessup, Baxter, you’re with me,” Chester called. “Bish, bring a bug gun.”

Darren reached back into the helicopter for the pheromone gun, pocketed a few blue and green cartridges, and jogged after Chester to the front entrance of the hotel. He looked up at the blue and white sign over the doors of the blocky sixties building.
Wright Hotel and Restaurant. B&B.
All rooms en-suite. Satellite TV.
It didn’t exactly look five star, but Darren had stayed in worse.

“Glove up,” Chester said, waggling a black-clad hand, “we don’t want any noise. Only shoot if you absolutely have to. That means life or death.” He looked at Jessup.

Jessup glared at him. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Chester smiled. “Loosen up, Jess. This is the fun bit.”

“Fun. Right.”

Darren shrugged off his black suit jacket and laid it over the low wall beside the doors, then pulled a pair of the elbow length black Meir’s resistant gloves from his trouser pocket and tugged them on, rolling up his shirt sleeves so he could pull them all the way up. He wasn’t taking any chances. Beside him, Baxter did the same.

“Okay,” Chester said, “everyone ready?”

“Let’s just get it over with,” Darren said.

Why on earth was Chester so perky today? Other than because Boot’s PA, Valerie, had been back in the helicopter with him. And they were about to take over a building full of bedrooms.

Oh. That was why.

The hotel had automatic sliding doors, but they weren’t working without power. Baxter jogged back to one of the helicopters and returned with a crowbar. A few seconds later, they were into the porch area.

Darren cupped his hands around his eyes against the glass inner doors, checking inside for eaters. “Looks clear.”

Baxter crowbarred his way through and they crept into the silent lobby. To their left, a reception desk stood against one wall. Corridors extended to both sides and straight ahead.

“Bish, you and Baxter take upstairs,” Chester said. “Jess and I will take down here. If you find a big horde, use the pheromones. Otherwise, knives only.”

A broad staircase hugged the wall to their right and Darren led the way, listening for moans. At the top a wide corridor branched left and right. Darren turned left, motioning for Baxter to take right.

Doors lined both sides of the hallway to where it turned at a corner some way ahead. The first was locked. Darren knocked. After a few seconds, something thudded against the other side of the door. Hearing a faint moan, he sighed, knowing he’d have to come back with the key and kill it. He moved on, hoping there wouldn’t be any more.

The next four doors were unlocked and a quick search of the rooms beyond confirmed them to be empty. He reached the corner and turned right, directly into the path of an eater. The woman focused its vacant eyes on him, opening its mouth in a rasping moan as it grasped his right wrist.

He dropped the pheromone gun, grunting in pain, and tried to pull away, but the eater was too strong. He jerked his arm away from its snapping mouth, fumbling with his free hand for the knife sheathed at his side. The eater reached for him with its other hand. Clenching his right fist and locking his elbow, he swung the eater against the wall with all his strength, managing to twist the arm gripping his wrist behind it. He kicked at the back of its knee and the eater fell, pulling Darren down on top of it.

“Damn, woman, let go,” he groaned, grimacing. It felt like all the bones in his wrist were being crushed.

With his body pinning the eater face down on the floor, he finally managed to unclip the knife sheath and, with some awkward squirming, pulled the ten inch blade free. The grip on his wrist finally relaxed when he pushed it into the eater’s ear

Darren breathed out.

“Would you two like some time alone?” Baxter stood a few feet away, a smirk on his face.

“How long have you been there?” Darren said as he climbed off the eater’s back. He wiped blood and brain matter from the knife blade onto the woman’s floral blouse and slid it back into its sheath.

Baxter shrugged. “Not long. You seemed to have it under control.”

Darren didn’t reply, doubting Baxter would have helped even if the eater had been about to shred him into mincemeat. He shook out his wrist then probed it gently, relieved to find it seemed to be in one piece.

“Have you finished your end yet?” he said when Baxter didn’t move.

“No. Just waiting to see if you need any more rescuing.”

Darren wanted to punch the smirk off his face. Instead, he turned away and headed for the next door, annoyed, and walked in without checking first.

A wooden chair hit his shoulder.

He staggered back against the doorframe as a man and woman darted past him into the hallway. There was the sound of a fist hitting a face.

“What the...?”

Regaining his balance, Darren ran back outside. He found Baxter clutching his jaw with one hand while aiming his pistol around the corner with the other.

Lunging at him, Darren smacked the gun down. Along the hallway, the young couple reached the stairs and disappeared out of sight.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Baxter snapped.

“They were just a couple of kids hiding out here. They didn’t deserve to get shot for it.”

Baxter glared at him and holstered his pistol. “If you ever do that to me again, I’ll....” He stopped, drawing in a breath and looking away.

“You’ll what, Baxter? Tell me, what are you going to do?”

Baxter shook his head, scowling, and stalked back towards his side of the building. Darren got the distinct impression he’d have a bullet in his head right now if it wasn’t for the fact that Boot would be very unhappy if he lost one of his guards. He would have smiled at the irony if he wasn’t so angry. How did he end up in this? That island was looking more and more tempting, and not just to get away from the eaters.

There was no one else on the first floor, eater or otherwise, and Darren fetched the key to the room with the eater trapped inside and dispatched it with a knife into the eye socket with the door open just enough to give him access. Jessup took both bodies outside. Darren didn’t know where he put them. It didn’t really matter since they were only going to be here for one night.

The couple he’d disturbed had escaped out the front and run before anyone could stop them. Feeling a rare twinge of guilt for having driven them from their hiding place, Darren hoped they made it.

With the building secure and their group of twenty-five moved in, they shifted the eaters outside closer to guard the front doors. It was still only early afternoon so with Chester, Boot and Valerie going over their plan for the following day and the rest of Boot’s bodyguards occupied with various duties, Darren found a book, settled into his room, and took advantage of the opportunity to relax in relative comfort and safety.

Before things got really unpleasant tomorrow.

“They’re still there.”

Alex lowered to his stomach and used his elbows to shuffle up beside Micah at the top of the bank. Flattening himself into the tall, scrubby grass, he stared down at the horde.

“At least they aren’t eating anymore,” he said.

He looked to his right, spotting Jean’s dark red estate near the front of the extensive pile-up of cars, vans, military vehicles, a very large lorry lying on its side, and one tank. The door was still open. It had been almost two weeks since they’d rescued her and almost been caught by the same horde they were watching now. Alex wondered how she was.

When they’d first been here, the horde was feeding. Alex and Micah had hoped the eaters would have wandered off in the intervening time. They hadn’t. Now they were simply milling around, the asphalt beneath them stained a deep brownish red and covered with shreds of clothing and stark, white bones.

At least they were all in one place. If they’d still been scattered throughout the crush of vehicles as they were after their heart-pounding chase through the pile-up, it might have been even more of a problem, but they’d returned to the area where they’d been feeding. It seemed to be their favourite spot.

“They must have run out of bodies,” Micah said.

Alex flicked a small beetle off his arm and rested his chin on his hands. “We have to get rid of them somehow. The last thing we want is to have them sneaking up behind us while we’re trying to deal with Boot’s horde.”

“If we could lure them away...”

“How? And where to? We barely got away from them the first time.” He glanced at Micah beside him, almost doing a double take at the huge grin on his face. “What?”

“I have an idea. Possibly the coolest idea ever.”

Micah’s smile was making Alex nervous. “What?”

He was almost bouncing with excitement. “The tank.”

“The tank?”

“Yes! It can drive over anything. It’s perfect. We can lead the eaters away, and we’ll be safe inside.”

“If it’s so safe inside, what happened to the soldiers inside it?”

Micah’s grin didn’t falter. “They were probably trapped, panicked, and got out when they shouldn’t have. Rookie mistake. We know better.”

Alex sighed. “You just want to drive a tank, don’t you?”

“Of course I want to drive a tank. It’s a
tank
! Don’t you want to drive a tank? We can take turns.” He pushed Alex’s arm, his smile growing even wider. Micah seemed to have regressed to being five years old.

Alex shook his head. “You scare me sometimes.”

They left their bikes away from the road, circled around the hill to the back end of the pile-up, then made their way through the masses of vehicles, past the overturned lorry, and on to the tank abandoned in the middle of the mess.

Alex looked at the cars around it, sceptical. “How are we going to get it out?”

Micah shrugged as he climbed up onto the hull. “It’s a tank. We can just drive over the top.”

“Are you sure? Why didn’t the crew just do that?”

Micah glanced down at him in irritation. “How am I supposed to know? Maybe they didn’t want to crush any of the people still in the cars. Stop harshing my buzz and get up here.”

Climbing up beside Micah, Alex wondered why he was being so reticent. He was usually the one suggesting the insane plans without worrying about what could go wrong. But then that was before someone he cared about died because of his lack of forward thinking.

Micah lowered to his knees to avoid being seen by the horde a few hundred feet ahead and crawled onto the turret, approaching the hatch which was open a crack. He peered through the gap.

“It’s too dark, I can’t see anything.”

“Try knocking,” Alex said, crawling up beside him, “just in case they didn’t actually leave.”

Micah tapped his knuckles twice on the hatch. When there was no response from inside, Alex leaned in close to the gap and sniffed. The air was slightly stale, but there was no indication of either decay or eater. He hoped that was a good sign.

Taking hold of the edges of the hatch, he pulled it open. Out of habit, and a sense of self-preservation honed over weeks of dealing with eaters and the occasional uninfected person who wanted to kill them, both he and Micah sat back out of arm’s reach of the opening. When no arms reached from inside, they leaned over to look.

“Looks clear,” Micah said, his smile returning. “I’m going in.”

“Be careful,” Alex said, then grimaced. He was turning into his mother.

Micah lowered himself feet first into the gloomy interior of the tank. Alex lifted his head to scan the surrounding area, making sure nothing was sneaking up on them. Satisfied it was clear, he raised up as far as he dared to check the horde for any change in their behaviour.

“Hey, you should come in,” Micah’s voice drifted from the open hatch. “It is beyond cool in here.”

Alex couldn’t help smiling at his excited tone. At least one of them was having a good time. With one last look around, he swivelled his legs into the hatch and dropped to the floor inside.

The inside of the metal behemoth was surprisingly roomy and yet remarkably cramped at the same time. Alex wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but in his mind he’d imagined a more user-friendly, streamlined interior; something out of a sci-fi movie with all smooth, grey consoles and controls and screens. Possibly a few LED lights to make it look extra cool. Instead, every surface was covered with pipes and wires and displays and buttons and controls and bits of metal sticking out for no apparent reason other than to scrape elbows and knees. He had to duck slightly to be able to move around. The interior of his ten year old car looked more hi-tech.

There were signs of the previous occupants everywhere; a photo of a young woman in a bikini stuck to the wall next to a chair, a mug with the words
World’s Best Dad
in red written on the side, various bits of clothing and other personal items scattered around.

“I wonder what happened to them,” he said quietly.

Micah glanced at him from where he was studying the seating near the front. His gaze dropped to the floor where a pair of glasses lay, one side crushed as if it had been trodden on. “Maybe they got away.”

Alex didn’t answer, but he doubted it.

“I think this is the driver’s seat,” Micah said, pointing into a snug space right at the front surrounded by a plethora of instruments. “I wonder how we start it up.”

“Or steer,” Alex said, studying the range of levers and buttons. “Or brake. Or accelerate. Or...”

“Okay, okay, I get it. We have no idea what we’re doing.”

The disappointment on Micah’s face made Alex feel like he’d taken away his favourite toy. Shrugging off his backpack, he rummaged amongst the spare magazines, skull-spikers and muesli bars, and pulled out the satellite phone. It was answered on the fourth ring.

“I’ll pass you to Collins,” Lieutenant Tracey Dent said when Alex had explained the situation to her. “He can drive anything.”

Alex switched the phone to speaker.

“What can I do you for?” Private Matt Collins’ voice echoed in the confines of the tank.

“Collins, can you drive a tank?”

“I’m in the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers, I can drive anything. I can also fix anything. Kind of. But when you say a tank, what do you mean? Because there are tanks, and there are
tanks
.”

Alex wasn’t sure what the difference was between a tank and a
tank
, but he had a look around for any indication of the name of the metal hulk they were inside. Micah pointed to a sign by the hatch.

“Um... it says it’s a Challenger Two?” Alex said.

There were a couple of seconds of silence before Collins uttered an expletive. When he spoke again, his voice sounded far away, as if he was holding the phone away from his mouth. “Guys! They have a sodding
Challenger
!”

A chorus of excited voices sounded in the background.

“Okay, okay, I’ll ask.” He brought the phone back to his mouth. “Are you
sure
it’s a Challenger Two?”

“That’s what it says,” Alex said. “Is that good?”

“
Good
? That’s the main battle tank of the British Army! It’s practically indestructible. It’s like the Iron Man of combat vehicles. I can’t believe you have a Challenger!” He sounded as excited as Micah looked who was now grinning from ear to ear. “We could take down Boot and anything he threw at us. Is there ammunition?”

“Where would it be?” Micah said, looking around.

“Well, there is a compartment for it, but during combat it could be pretty much anywhere inside they could fit it. Challengers have a crew of four men, plus all their gear, supplies and ammunition. It can get kind of snug.”

Alex and Micah took a minute to search the interior of the tank for ammunition. All they found were a few spent shell casings.

“There’s nothing here,” Alex said. “It must have all been used.”

“Oh. That’s a shame,” Collins said, sounding disappointed. “But still, a Challenger will be a useful thing to have. And maybe we’ll be able to find some ammunition for it. So what did you need me for?”

Micah answered immediately. “I want to drive it.” He glanced at Alex. “
We
want to drive it, I mean.”

It took some time for Collins to explain to them how to start, steer, and stop the battle tank without crashing or destroying everything around it. It sounded complicated.

“It’s really quite easy once you get the hang of it,” he said. “The difficult bit is judging where you’re going because the range of vision is limited. But if one of you has his head out the hatch and shouts directions, that helps.”

Alex wasn’t sure how easy it would be to get the hang of while being chased by several hundred hungry eaters, but he kept that to himself. At least they’d be safe inside.

“Where are you now?” Micah said into the phone.

“We’re near Kettering,” Collins replied. “We got held up having to circle around a big horde, but we’re making fairly good time now. The trackers are showing Boot is still at Cambridge so we think he’s going to stay there tonight. We should be there soon, but we’ll wait for you.”

“We’ll be on our way once we’ve got rid of this horde,” Alex said.

“Have fun,” Collins said before hanging up.

“Right, so what
are
we going to do with the horde once we get them to follow us?” Micah said, sitting in a seat in front of a blank screen surrounded by square buttons.

Lowering to the floor next to him, Alex leaned his back against the seat and thought through his limited knowledge of the area.

After a minute or so, Micah said, “Could we lead them into the river?”

“I don’t know. Is this one of those tanks that transforms into a boat you hear so much about? I think it’s called the Chitty Chitty Bang Tank.”

“You know, you’re not nearly as funny as you think you are.”

Alex went back to thinking. “We need some sort of enclosure where we can drive the tank in one side and out the other and trap the horde inside.”

Micah suddenly sat up, jostling Alex’s shoulder. “I’ve got it. There’s an industrial estate not far from here. Warehouses mostly. I used to work there a few years ago. They have entrances big enough for a tank and lots of room inside.”

Alex nodded slowly. “That could work.”

“What do you mean
could
work? It’s perfect. It’ll work like a charm.”

“Have you learned nothing in the last few weeks?”

Micah snorted. “Where’s your optimism? We have a tank now. A
tank
! What could go wrong? Can we go now?”

Alex sighed. “I think you are overestimating this hunk of metal we’re in. It’s a tank, not the Death Star.”

“The Death Star had some major design flaws, like an exhaust system that could destroy the whole thing. But this is a
tank
. Can we go now?”

“You don’t know. If someone shoved a potato up the exhaust pipe...”

“So we’ll keep an eye out for eaters carrying potatoes.” Micah ran his hands over the controls. “I can’t wait to drive it. Can we go now?”

Alex shook his head. “You must be a nightmare on Christmas morning.”

Micah grinned and moved to the driver’s seat, wriggling into the tight space and looking around. “It’s a good thing I don’t have claustrophobia. Oh, hey, I can see the big gun from here. Wouldn’t it be cool if we could fire it one day?”

Returning to the hatch, Alex climbed up the short ladder to look out. “Alright, it’s clear out here.”

There were ten seconds of silence. Followed by another ten seconds of silence.

Alex ducked his head back inside. “Are we thinking of leaving today?”

“I’m just familiarising myself with... oh, got it.”