Mark Morris - Bay of the Dead

'This is different, Jack, and you know it. They'll tear you apart. They'll eat you.'

Jack was unmoved. 'Well, you know what they say about life — the best way to enjoy it is to fill it with new experiences.' He held out his hand. 'Give me the pod, Ianto.'

'This is madness, Jack,' Ianto protested.

Jack's face was set, determined. 'Give me the pod,' he repeated.

Ianto sighed, momentarily undecided, and then unhappily he handed the box over to Jack. Jack lifted out the pulsing pod and slipped it into an inside pocket of his greatcoat. He tossed the box onto the back seat, then leaned forward, pulled Ianto towards him and kissed him on the forehead.

'You wait for me here. If I don't manage to find Oscar and stop all this. . well, just do what you can. Drive. Get back to the Hub.'

But Ianto shook his head, suddenly decisive. 'No. If you're going, I'm coming with you.'

'No way,' Jack said. 'My own stupidity I can live with. I'm not having you risking your life.'

Now it was Ianto's turn to look determined. Drawing his gun, he said, 'It's my decision, Jack. I chose to do this job. I know what the risks are.'

Jack looked as though he wanted to argue, but couldn't find a firm basis from which to do so. In the end he simply flapped a hand at Ianto and said, 'OK. If that's what you want, let's both go out in a blaze of glory. You ready?'

'Ready,' Ianto said grimly.

'Now!' Jack shouted.

They shoved their doors open simultaneously, causing zombies to tumble back like skittles. Instantly more of the creatures surged forward to fill the gap, teeth bared and eyes staring, hands reaching out.

Ianto pointed his gun and started shooting. And horrible as it was to see fleshless skulls shattering into fragments and heads disintegrating into bloody meat before his eyes, he continued shooting, trying to console himself with the knowledge that the creatures weren't real, that they felt no pain, that this was, in effect, nothing but a three-dimensional — albeit potentially lethal — computer game.

He was still shooting as he swung his legs from the SUV and stood up. And behind him he was aware that Jack was shooting too, the sharper crack of his Webley revolver underpinning the deafening boom of Ianto's semi-automatic.

Zombies fell in swathes before him, but they kept coming out of the darkness, kept pushing him back. One grabbed at him from the roof of the SUV; he turned and shot it from point-blank range.

Another swiped at his face, raking jagged fingernails down his cheek, before he was able to swivel and shoot it in the throat.

Yet another, a goth girl with black lipstick, panda eyes, and entrails leaking from a festering wound in her stomach, latched on to his left arm and sunk her teeth into his shoulder. He dislodged her by slamming her into the side of the SUV before she could break the skin, and then shooting her through her spiky forest of black hair while she was scrabbling on the ground.

At last the inevitable happened. While Ianto was pointing his gun, a flailing arm knocked the weapon from his hand. Ianto watched in despair as it flew through the air and clattered to the ground, among the shuffling feet of the walking dead.

Oh God, this is it , he thought as they surged towards him. He turned, grabbed the still-open door of the SUV and used it to haul himself up towards the roof of the vehicle, in the final desperate hope that he might be able to defend himself better from up there.

Just as he reached the roof, kicking out at hands that were snatching at his legs, he became aware of three things simultaneously: an incredibly bright light, a loud, clattering whirr, and a raging wind that swooped down on him from nowhere. The light dazzled him, and the wind knocked the breath from his body and threatened to wrench him from his precarious perch. Clinging on for dear life, Ianto dropped to all fours and managed, with extreme difficulty, to turn his head.

For a second or two the light was so blinding that he couldn't work out what he was looking at. Hovering in the air above the SUV was what appeared to be an illuminated metal wall painted in white and orange stripes. Then Ianto saw landing wheels and the whickering blur of rotor blades, and suddenly realised he was staring at the underside of a helicopter. It had a bright red nose and tail, and a white body. The words 'COASTGUARD RESCUE' were printed in bold black capitals on the fuselage side of the aircraft.

Ianto sensed scrabbling movement beside him and twisted his head again, thinking that one of the zombies had climbed up after him. But it was Jack, bathed in the glare from above, and with rainbow light from the pod pulsing through his thick coat, still firing his Webley into the throng below. He turned briefly and grinned, hair flapping wildly around his head. He shouted something about 'cavalry', but the roar of the helicopter was too loud for Ianto to make out his words properly.

Then Ianto saw a line descending from the side door of the helicopter, and attached to the line was Gwen, black hair flying and leather jacket gleaming, haloed by the helicopter spotlight. Gwen was pointing her gun and taking potshots at the zombies below. Despite the fierce wind, Jack stood up on the roof of the SUV, waving and laughing.

Gwen was grinning too when she alighted on the roof of the SUV.

'Hello, boys,' she shouted. 'Having fun?'

'We are now,' Jack laughed, and hugged her tightly. Then in the same movement he swivelled and shot a zombie, which had poked its head over the edge of the roof. It fell back without a sound.

'Right,' Gwen yelled. 'Who's first?'

'Ianto,' Jack said decisively.

When Ianto looked about to protest, Jack shouted, 'You're mortal and you don't have a weapon.'

Ianto couldn't argue with that. 'Fair enough,' he said.

He was attached to the supplementary line and winched aboard the helicopter, rising up through the buffeting wind and the roar of the massive engines. It was roomy inside, and contained more people than he'd been expecting — Rhys, for one, and a rather dazed-looking family of three.

A few minutes later, Jack too was aboard. The three of them had a brief but joyful reunion.

'How the hell did you wangle this?' Jack marvelled, grinning from ear to ear. 'You're amazing, you know that?'

Gwen indicated Rhys, who was standing a little apart from the trio, watching them with an indulgent expression. 'Actually it wasn't me,' she said, 'it was Rhys.'

' Rhys? ' Jack tried his best not to look astonished.

Rhys nodded at the helmeted pilot. 'That's Nobby. He's a mate of mine. He owed me a favour.'

'Musta been a really big one,' said Jack.

'Let's just say it involved a cocktail waitress and a bottle of vodka.'

Jack laughed uproariously and threw his arms around Rhys in a bear hug. Rhys looked startled, but pleased.

Ianto noticed the family all staring with astonishment at Jack, whose entire body seemed to be pulsing with light beneath his greatcoat.

Straight-faced, he said, 'Just ignore him. He likes to show off. He's not even a real American.'

Less than a minute later, the helicopter alighted on the flat roof of the hospital. Jack was standing by the still-open door, leaning out as though taking the air, his greatcoat flapping like a cape.

As the aircraft touched down, he turned back and said, 'Gwen, Ianto, with me. The rest of you, wait here.'

Rhys jumped up from his seat. 'No chance,' he said. 'I'm coming with you.'

Jack shook his head. 'Not this time, Rhys.'

'You can't stop me,' Rhys said, glancing at Gwen, as if for support. 'I've come this far. I want to see it through to the end.'

'You don't have a weapon,' said Jack.