Adrian Smith - The Fourth Phase

Leela stopped at the fence, eyes wide, lip trembling. “Maggie, are the monsters still out there?”

A lump caught in her throat. She knew she had to lie to this innocent little girl just so she could have a chance at saving her. Doubt crept in as she looked down at Leela. “No, darli—”

Kaboom! The shockwave slammed into them, pushing Maggie, Becs, and Leela against the fence. The LPG bottles had finally exploded. The heat that followed reminded her of that sandy hell-hole that was Iraq. The shattering of glass echoed, mixed with the panicked screams of the guards caught in the fireball.

Maggie grimaced. She hadn’t wanted to injure anyone, but those men had chosen their side.

A screaming figure ran towards her. She squinted into the sun and smoke, and could just about make out the running figure of Alice. “Maggie! Go!”

Maggie looked back towards the fire and saw the skinny frame of Ian sprinting towards them, baton raised and dressing gown open, exposing his naked chest. Quickly, she hauled herself off the ground and pushed Becs and Leela through the gap. Alice ran up and gave her arm a quick squeeze.

With a quick look towards the charging Ian, Maggie pulled out the parcel from her front. “Take the kids into the trees and put this on. Head to the access road. There should be a van.”

Alice gave her a pained smile, grabbed the parcel, and slid through the gap. “What about you?”

Maggie met her eyes. “Ian and I have a date. Go! I’ll catch up.”

Alice grabbed Becs’s hand and guided the children deeper into the trees.

Maggie slid through the gap and, turning, watched as Ian ran the last few feet to the fence. She gave him her best smile. “C’mon, Ian. If you want me, come and get me.”

Maggie spun around and jogged off, away from the kids. She wasn’t interested in his reply.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, you American bitch!”

Maggie smiled to herself as she jogged through the trees, their fresh pine scents clearing her sinuses. That’s it, Ian. I need you angry. Anger clouds your mind.

The shell path crunched under his foot as Boss ran for the villa, Glock held ready. George sprinted up ahead. Reaching the deck that wrapped around the 100-year-old house, Boss glanced around, scanning the immediate area for Variants. He hobbled the last few metres and made his way up the stairs. Pain from his throbbing stump lanced up his spine, making him grimace. He should have been only fitting the prosthetic, not running around on it, fighting monsters. But Boss was grateful just to be alive. He had seen some horrendous things since the Variant outbreak. Tonight simply added to the trauma.

He opened the door, running into the house after George. A flash of red to one side caused him to glance down. Jack’s red-handled machete leant up against the wooden box. He stooped down and grabbed it. Boss ran through the small galley-like kitchen, past dirty dishes stacked around the sink. George had reached the coat rack and was lifting down his small backpack. Next to the coat rack, Ben had installed a gun cage.

Boss reached up. Clicking the release button, he pushed open the wire-mesh door. He stared for a moment at the two shotguns and his AR-15. Boxes of ammunition were stacked below. Letting out a sigh, he gripped the edge of the metal door and pulled his rifle out. He grabbed a magazine and clicked it in. Checking the safety, he slid it over his shoulder. Boss turned to George. His blue eyes watched Boss while he waited. He could see fear in those eyes, but also determination. He knew how brave the kid was. Boss clenched his jaw and, taking a deep breath, he reached over George and grabbed his go-bag. He scooped up boxes of ammo and shoved them in before wriggling into the backpack. He reached back into the gun cage and grabbed a shotgun, shoving it into the webbing of his pack.

Boss caught his reflection in the glass. His hair was sticking out at weird angles. His brown eyes stared back at him, blinking rapidly. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Rubbing his hand over his head, he tried to smooth down his wild hair. A plan formed in his mind. He looked down at George. “We’re going to go to those caves, to the lake you found. Okay, buddy?”

George nodded back at him.

Boss reached down, grasping his shoulder. “Jack and Dee will come for us, G-man.” Boss said this more to himself than George. In truth, he doubted that, even if the Renegades had been alerted, they would get here in time. They were over 100 km north. Boss clenched his fists. No. He had to keep George safe. Haere had given them a chance. He needed to honour that and get George out of this war zone. He picked up the machete and slipped it into his belt. Touching the cool, rusty metal gave him some comfort. It had saved Jack in the meat locker, perhaps it would save him now. Grinning at the thought of Jack wielding the machete, he turned towards the door.

A screech blared out, and a couple more answered, closer. Boss quickened his pace. Glancing back to George, he threw open the door and stepped out onto the deck. Three Variants bounded up the path, shrieking. The high-pitched sound jangled his nerves. Boss unslung his rifle and sighted the lead Variant, trying to get a bead. It zigged and zagged, leaping all over the place. Ugly, but not dumb. He took a punt at where it would go next, and squeezed the trigger. Watching over the sight, he saw the bullet enter its sucker mouth. Gunk flew out behind it as it crumpled into a ball of flesh and bones. Dead. He spun to his left, letting off a couple of bursts like Ben had showed him. He aimed for the centre mass and took down another one. The third Variant screeched and leapt up onto the roof of the covered verandah, its claws scraping the corrugated iron. The metal moaned as the Variant dug its claws in, the sound reminding Boss of a ship rubbing against the poles of the jetty. Boss desperately watched as it walked across, making dents in the thin metal. With a hideous howl, the Variant bounded off the roof, hooking its claws into the gutter and swinging over the edge of the verandah, flinging itself at Boss. Its legs slammed into him, launching Boss off his feet and smashing him against the cladding. The sharp weatherboard edges dug into his back.

The breath wheezed out of his bruised chest, and sparks of yellow light danced in his vision. The Variant straddled him, its powerful legs pinning him down. Claws dug into his remaining leg, while others grasped his shoulders. George screamed at it. It turned his head and shrieked at George. Boss used the distraction to pull the machete free and swing it, yelling out in frustration. He drove the sharpened edge deep into the Variant’s neck. It shrieked and reached up to grab the embedded blade, and yanked it free. It leant back, howling, holding its claws to the gushing wound, trying to stem the flow of black blood pouring out. Boss scrambled free and stood up. He pulled his Glock from his holster and looked into its eyes. The reptilian slits stared back at him, its nictitating membrane flicking. He raised the gun and pointed it at the Variant’s head. The creature that was once a human reached up and grasped his leg. Recognition grazed across its eyes. Boss felt a fleeting moment of sorrow for the monster as he squeezed the trigger, ending its nightmare. Without looking back, he grabbed George and pushed the boy ahead. They hopped off the deck and scrambled up the bank, heading into the bush. Branches scratched his exposed arms.

Boss turned back and looked down into the once-idyllic bay. Flashes from muzzle fire sparked out like a fireworks display gone wrong. The luxury yacht tied up at the jetty was still burning, thick white smoke billowed out. The huge flames licking the wooden jetty, threatening to consume it. His eyes darted left and right, catching glimpses of fighting all over the bay. Soldiers ran, turning and firing. Variants bounded and chased after them, tearing apart those fleeing. The bulk of the Variant infestation had crowded around the old hotel and the bunker behind. Sgt. Haere had rallied the troops to protect those inside. A steady stream of monsters threw themselves at the thousands of bullets spewing into them. Boss shook his head, the sounds of the battle rattling around in his mind. So much death, so many lives ended. The Variants would kill them all until no one was left. Until humanity was but mementoes etched in stone.