Adam Baker - Juggernaut

‘Last of our water.’

Jabril shrugged.

The vault was lit by the beam of Amanda’s Maglite. The torch lay on a shelf. The light flickered and dimmed. The warm, amber glow of a dying battery.

‘So what now?’

‘We wait for your friend to turn. It won’t be long. He has already entered the final phase. He will become increasingly confused. He will experience irreparable brain damage. A series of small haemorrhages and lesions are slowly wiping his mind. Within a few hours the man you have known, the man you call your friend, will be totally erased. He will be a little more than a shell. An automaton. A creature with the intellect of a cockroach. His face will become slack and expressionless as the connective tissue beneath the skin slowly deteriorates. A tell-tale sign. We called it the Death Mask.’

‘And what then?’

‘Lucy will have no choice. He will turn homicidal. She will have to kill him, or be killed.’

‘Then we should be there to help.’

Voss rode the quad bike back to the temple. He parked the quad across the wide doorway to make a barrier.

Lucy helped him lift Toon from the trailer, still wrapped in his poncho. They laid him on the steps of the altar. He looked like a sacrificial offering to the monstrous bull god looming from the shadows above them.

Voss sat next to his dead friend.

‘Go tell the Spartans, passer-by, that here, obedient to their laws, we lie.’

‘No law but his own,’ said Lucy.

‘Fuckin’ A.’

‘Raise a glass in the Riv,’ said Lucy. ‘Remember the good times. That’s what he would want.’

‘What about Jabril?’

‘That vault must be oven-hot by now. He’s got nothing to drink. Time is on our side.’

Voss checked his watch.

‘It’s going to be a long, cold night. I’ll start a fire.’

He smashed wooden ammunition boxes and piled shards next to Huang. He split open a couple of rifle bullets and sprinkled gunpowder. He flicked his Zippo and touched off the powder. Fizzing, spitting flame. Wood started to smoulder and burn.

Huang woke. He huddled close to the fire and warmed his hands.

Voss unloaded the trailer.

‘Couple of cases for the SAW. Plenty of rifle ammo. Not much for the Glocks.’

‘Water?’

‘Couple of days if we’re careful.’

‘Have to conserve as much as we can. Gaunt might be able to fix the chopper, but it’s a long shot. Odds are, we’ll be walking home.’

Voss gestured to Huang.

‘What about him? Want to carry him across the desert on a stretcher?’

‘If it comes down to it, yeah. Travel by night. I’m sure as shit not going to leave him here.’

‘And what about the gold?’

‘Hide it. Bury it. Maybe we can come back in a couple of months with fresh choppers. Or maybe we should just forget this nightmare ever happened.’

‘That’s our gold,’ said Voss. ‘We came here. We bled for it. It’s ours.’

Lucy crouched next to Huang.

‘How you doing, kid?’

Huang stared into the flames like he hadn’t heard. Lucy clicked fingers in front of his face.

‘Anything you need?’

‘I’m all right,’ he said.

His lips were blue.

‘Got a stupid question for you.’

‘Go for it,’ said Lucy.

‘My sister. What’s her name?’

‘Kim. She’s called Kim.’

Huang nodded. Heavy eyelids. A dreamy smile. He stared into the flames once more and his face relaxed into a blank mask.

‘Get some sleep,’ said Lucy. She stroked his head. Strands of hair came away in her hand. She discreetly blew them from her fingers.

Voss found Amanda’s sniper rifle propped against the rear step-plate of the truck. He crouched by the quad bike at the temple entrance. He checked the breech, then switched on the nightscope.

Acres of rubble glowed with residual day-heat.

Lucy knelt beside him.

‘Stay frosty, all right? Any of those skeletal fucks come knocking, blow their heads off.’

‘You got it,’ said Voss.

‘But we need Gaunt alive, yeah? Shoot to maim. Bring him down, but leave him breathing.’

Voss bit open a Balmoral and lit up.

‘I’m going to douse some of these halogens,’ said Lucy. ‘No point sitting here back-lit like idiots.’

She pulled the plug on a couple of tripod lamps.

‘Maybe you should get some rest,’ said Lucy.

‘Who would want to sleep in a place like this? Who would want to dream?’

Lucy took the ICOM handset from the quad trailer. She checked for a power light. She extended the antenna.

‘You won’t raise a thing,’ said Voss. ‘Too deep in the desert. Hasn’t got range.’

‘Worth a shot,’ said Lucy.

‘And even if you manage to summon a rescue party, the place will be crawling with marines. We’ll fly home broke. You can kiss the gold goodbye.’

‘Dude, listen to yourself. What about Huang? We have to get him to a hospital.’

She tuned to search-and-rescue. 40Mhz VHF. She pressed transmit.

‘Mayday, mayday. This is fire support team Bravo Bravo Lima Two requesting urgent assistance, does anyone copy, over?’

No response.

‘Mayday, mayday. This is Bravo Bravo Lima Two broadcasting on emergency four-zero, over.’

No response.

‘Mayday, mayday. Does anyone copy this transmission?’

No sound but the hiss of a dead channel.

A rising wind blew through the citadel ruins. Dust devils whipped across courtyards and colonnades.

Gaunt crouched beside a toppled column. He zipped his leather jacket and turned up the collar. Too cold to stay in the open. He needed to find shelter.

He took off his right boot and examined the sole. A penetrator round had split the heel.

He looked across moonlit rubble. He could see movement in the far distance. A shadow sliding clumsily against a high wall. One of Jabril’s monstrous legion drawn towards light shafting from the temple entrance.

Gaunt crossed himself. He shouldered his backpack and hurried deeper into the citadel precincts.

He sat on a granite slab. He pulled the sat phone from his backpack and extended the antenna.

Function switch on. 5kHz narrowband. He keyed the encryption code.

‘Brimstone to Carnival, over.’

It took him twenty minutes to get a response.

Koell’s voice:

‘ Authenticate. ’

‘Authentication is Oscar, Sierra, Yankee, Bravo.’

‘ Go ahead, Brimstone. ’

‘Requesting immediate exfil, over.’

‘ Have you acquired the package? ’

‘Negative.’

‘ No case, no ride. ’

‘Our transport is down. The choppers are out of action.’

‘ How? What happened? ’

‘An accident. A technical fault.’

‘ You want to be a player? Stop bleating for help and do your damn job. Make shit happen. Find the case. Call me at oh-six-hundred. ’

The line went dead.

Gaunt tucked the phone into the side-pocket of his backpack. He pulled a steel cross from his shirt collar. Army issue, strung on a dog-tag ball-chain. He mumbled the Lord’s Prayer.

He dug a hand-drawn map from his pocket, took bearings, and began to pick his way through the labyrinth of tumbled stone.

Voss crouched behind the quad bike, sniper rifle resting across the saddle. His eyelids drooped. His head nodded as he fought sleep.

‘Hey.’

Lucy slapped his shoulder.

Voss shook himself awake and alert. He cracked knuckles and flexed to restore circulation. He rubbed his eyes. He took a pair of black-framed spectacles from a chest pouch, wiped the lenses on his sleeve and put them on.

‘How long have you needed those?’ asked Lucy.

‘Got them last month. My eyes get tired. No big deal.’