Adrian Smith - The Rule of Three

The driver stretched his back and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He ambled up to the door, skipping a few steps along the way, and knocked once, twice, three times.

“Little pig. Little pig. Let me in.”

Jack could feel his heart slamming in his chest. His tired mind swam with thoughts. But the one that shouted the loudest was Why? Why were these men here?

He glanced back at Emma and gestured towards the back of the house.

“Little pig? Are you there?” the driver shouted this time, anger lacing his tone. “Tell you what. We just want the girl. You can go free.” The driver cackled. “Good luck out there.”

Jack crouched down next to Emma and leaned in closer so that his mouth was next to her ear. “On the count of three, we’re going to run out that ranch slider and into the trees. Keep running. Don’t look back, all right? Head for the river.”

Emma nodded and glanced at the front door.

“Last chance, Chief,” the driver said. “I’ll give you to the count of three.”

Jack tightened his grip on his bachi hoe.

“One!” The front door smashed open, slamming into the wall. Boots thumped on the floor as the driver and his three companions stormed into the room. Within seconds, Jack and Emma were surrounded.

Jack dropped his weapon and held his hands up. He and Emma were roughly hauled to their feet. Emma struggled and winced as her arm was twisted behind her back.

Jack turned and faced the driver. “What do you want?”

“I told you, Chief,” the driver said. “Her.”

He looked up at his men and smiled before looking back at Jack. “You. I don’t need. Kill him.”

“Wait!” Jack pleaded. “C’mon man. I’m just trying to get home to my wife. Please let me go.”

Jack glanced at Emma, trying to convey that he wouldn’t let them take her. That he would find her and help. She was struggling against the man who was holding her, but for once remained quiet.

“They call me Duke. Tell you what, Chief, I’ll give you a one-minute head start. If you can evade my men, you’ll be on your way and home to your wife.”

Jack frowned and looked at the other three men. They were dressed for a chase. If he could make it to the river, he knew he stood a chance.

As he stood there facing Duke, Jack ran the plan through his head.

Evade these assholes.

Circle back.

Rescue Emma.

Go home.

Problem was, they had guns. Real guns. Not just some vermin pea shooters. Real military rifles. He hesitated and looked at Emma.

She smiled and nodded. “Go, Jack. I’ll be okay.”

He watched her for a few moments, trying to gauge the sincerity of her words. Finally he turned back to Duke. Duke was watching him, a big grin spread over his face.

“One minute?” Jack said.

Duke crossed his heart. “Promise. One whole minute.”

“Okay.”

“You better run, Chief,” Duke laughed. “Clock is ticking.”

Jack pushed past the men holding Emma. “Sorry,” he whispered as he went past. Jack made for the back of the house before pivoting and sprinting out the front door.

The only plan he had come up with involved the speedboat. Laughter followed him as he jumped into the 4x4 and tore out of the driveway, pulling the boat. It had been a long time since he had driven down this road, but he was certain of a boat ramp at the beginning of Lake Karapiro.

Faster he urged the vehicle on, constantly glancing in his mirrors, checking for pursuit. By his reckoning he had perhaps thirty seconds left and still there was no sign of the lake or the boat ramp.

Something glinted in the side mirror a fraction before a bullet pinged off the 4x4. Jack ducked and frantically looked around for the shooter.

Another bullet pinged off the metal. Jack cursed himself. Why had he expected Duke to keep his word?

He caught a glimpse of the lake through the trees as he whizzed by. Slowing down, Jack took a deep breath and wrenched the wheel, aiming for a narrow one-lane road.

The Toyota bounced and fishtailed around as he struggled to regain control.

At least they’ve stopped shooting.

Lake Karapiro was spread out in front of him as he desperately searched for a way to get the boat into the water quickly. He glanced left and right. He soon realised there was no way he could launch the craft: the terrain was simply too steep. He needed to lose the boat, and fast.

Jack brought the 4x4 to a halt and leapt from the vehicle. V8 engines growled on the wind. Duke and his men were getting close. Jack wiped his sweaty hands on his hiking shorts and peered around the back of the Toyota. Duke’s vehicle and three others were hurtling towards him. Men were leaning out of the windows, guns raised in the air.

Jack sighed and blinked away tears. He hated to leave Emma to whatever horrible fate these men had in mind for her, but he had to think of himself. Of Dee. She meant everything to him, and Jack wanted nothing more than to see her beautiful blue eyes again. To hold her. Feel the safety of her arms wrapped around him.

He glanced at the dark water of the lake and cast his eyes across to the other side. He could see houses. Perhaps he could shelter there.

With one last look back at Duke and his men, Jack grabbed his hiking pack and dived into the lake, gasping as the cold water embraced him.

Here we go again.

“Single file. Follow Bawden. Keep silent,” Holt said. “Understood?” He stared at Dee, waiting.

“Understood. But I’m going home. I’m waiting for my husband.”

“Negative. All civilians are to be evacuated.” Holt grabbed her arm and pushed her in front of him.

She bit her lip and decided to play along for a while. They were heading in the direction of her house and, more importantly, away from the creatures.

Holt thumbed the radio he had strapped onto his tactical vest.

“Four civvies for extraction,” Holt said.

There was a moment of static before a garbled voice rippled over the airwaves. “Negative. Holt… they’re everywhere. Go!” The popping sounds of gunfire filtered through.

“Say again, Nikau?”

“Creatures…” Crack! Crack!

Holt tried to reach Nikau a couple more times, but to no avail. He turned back to Dee, his brow furrowed. “Looks like we’re walking. What’s the quickest route to Claudelands Arena?”

“Follow this river trail for about three kilometres until we reach the rail bridge. Cross that and we’ll nearly be there,” Dee said.

He nodded and tapped Bawden on the shoulder. The two soldiers had a brief, hushed conversation before taking up positions, Bawden in front of the children and Holt just behind Dee.

Bawden led them back onto the paved riverpath. He swivelled his rifle constantly from side to side, his eye glued to the scope on the back. Dee had only seen equipment like that in one of Jack’s action movies.

After the golf course, the path ascended steeply, hugging the limestone cliffs that edged this stretch of the river. Expensive mansions perched precariously atop the cliffs, overlooking the water. Dee could hear the occasional scream, shout and the odd crying out. But, other than that, there were no other human sounds. No cars. No music. Not even the usual night-time squawk of birds or hoot of the morepork. The howls and shrieks of the creatures had taken over, every screech reminding her of the nightmare.

Bawden came to a sudden stop and held up his fist. He stopped so quickly, the children banged into his stumpy frame. He crouched down on one knee and signalled Holt, waving his finger and pointing ahead into the gloom.

Dee looked to where he was gesturing and cringed at the sight of a dozen pairs of yellow glowing eyes. The eyes blinked as one, and a hideous shriek rattled Dee’s brain. Chaos broke out as everything happened at once.