Adrian Smith - The Fourth Phase

Spying it, she slowed and turned, waiting for Ian to catch up. She strained her ears above the noise of the fire and the shouting coming from the camp. Her plan depended on the noise she waited for. Without it, she would have to fight Ian. She trusted her Army training and thought she had a chance, but Ian deserved more than just a beating. Screeches rang out between the trees. Maggie smiled and put her hands on her hips.

Ian ran the last few feet, slowing as he got near. He stopped a good body-length away, his ratty eyes glaring at her. He started swinging the police baton, its leather strap wrapped around his wrist. He twirled it around and up, catching it as it fell back down. It slapped into his hand with thwack. He grinned at Maggie, showing his crooked teeth.

“Nowhere to run, is there, Maggie?”

She gave him her best flirting smile and half closed her eyes. “No.”

Maggie reached up and started unbuttoning her shirt, one button followed by another, all the time keeping an eye on Ian. His thin lips broke to a grin as he watched her hand movements. Maggie stopped about three quarters of the way down. She took a step towards him and reached out, stroking his arm.

“How about we get busy and you let me come back into the camp?” She tugged on her pants as she said the last bit. Ian reached out and grabbed her. He groped her, running his hands over her derriere roughly. He pushed his mouth against her neck and licked her like a dog. A cold feeling enveloped her and she shuddered in disgust. His tongue reminded her of a slimy eel. Maggie could feel her muscles tensing as she did her best to remain calm and compliant.

Several howls echoed around the forest, louder. They sounded really close. Maggie couldn’t help the smile that spread on her lips. She had been waiting for the beasts to arrive. Maggie hugged Ian back and whispered in his ear.

“You forgot something, you disgusting piece of shit!”

She pulled back and brought her knee up into his groin with everything she had, slamming her kneecap against one of his testicles, crushing it into his thigh.

Ian dropped on the ground, groaning in agony. Clutching his balls, he seethed through gritted teeth, “Fucking bitch! I’m going to let the monsters rip you apart!”

Maggie smiled at him as she pulled off her pants, wriggling them over her boots. She quickly pulled off her shirt, revealing the red coveralls underneath. Ian stared up at Maggie, pure hatred boring into her. He squinted at her through thin slits before looking down at his half-naked state. Maggie grinned at him. Ian had taunted her several times about how the Variants he worked for had instructed him and his guards to wear the coveralls. Do so and the Variants would leave them alone.

Maggie lashed out with her boot, kicking him in the face. She reached down and grabbed his baton, giving him a few whacks on the legs. Ian screamed obscenities at her.

A Variant shriek rang out behind her. Maggie pivoted. Half a dozen of the dark beasts bounded through the trees. Letting out a breath, she stepped to one side and pointed with the baton at Ian.

“Not me! Her!” he screamed as the creatures tore into him, ripping away muscle and tissue, blood and bone.

Maggie turned, forcing herself to calmly walk away. She had bet everything on these red coveralls.

So far, so good.

Maggie had formed her plan within a few days of arriving in the camp. She had noticed how the guards walked through the trees, their strides confident. Even when she heard the tell-tale screeches and caught whiffs of the rotting fruit smell carried on the wind, the Variants had stayed out of sight of the camp. But she had seen their shadows. Maggie had deduced that the red coveralls told the Variants that the wearer worked for them, and so was protected. Ian’s tormenting of her and boasting had confirmed it. She had convinced Alice to get friendly with one of the guards, even selecting the quietest one, the thinker, the one who still had a conscience. Alice had asked him to snip the wire on the chain-link fence.

Ian had been right about one thing, Women talked. And Maggie had used this to her advantage, spreading false rumours about herself, knowing Ian and some of the guards would become curious. With their minds fixated on her, they didn’t keep an eye on Alice, Jill, and even little Becs. Becs had hidden the lighter and rag in the shed. After that, it had been a waiting game. When she’d first arrived, the LPG tanks had been half full. She’d had to wait another ten days for the scavengers to bring more. Ian’s taunting and abduction of Becs had moved her plans up. Maggie just prayed that they could carry out the next step. Not for the first time, Maggie wished she had her rifle with her.

Maggie walked briskly over the ground, which was covered in pine needles. Thoughts and plans swirled around in her mind. She caught a glimpse of the white van she was looking for, and grinned. Alice stood by the passenger door waving an arm, motioning for her to hurry. She didn’t need to be reminded of the excited howls of the Variants leaping through the forest, attracted by the noise, smoke, and raging fire. She reached Alice and gave her a quick hug before hopping into the van. She reached out for the steering wheel, but grasped only air. She let out a laugh. Of course. They drive on the right here in New Zealand. Maggie crawled over and sat in the driver’s seat. She glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled at the sight of the children in the back. She started up the van and pulled out onto the gravel forest road.

Alice reached over and gave her leg a squeeze. “Thanks, Maggie. We couldn’t leave those kids in there.”

Maggie glanced over. “Definitely. Have you still got that package I gave you?”

“Yeah.”

“There should be some caps in there. We need them for the next phase.”

Alice reached down into the foot well and picked up the package. She pulled out the caps and handed one to Maggie.

“What’s next?”

“If I remember correctly, there should be some sort of guardhouse coming up. Even though I was hooded when I was brought here, I remember the drivers talking to the guards. Just let me do the talking.” She took her eyes off the road, quickly looking at Alice. “Tuck your hair under the cap. We need to trick the guards for a few moments.” Without turning, she addressed the kids in the back. “Okay, sweeties. I need you all to stay extra quiet for me, okay?”

She heard a few murmurs in response.

A white wooden shed appeared, tucked to one side of the road. The guards had fashioned a makeshift barrier out of 44-gallon drums and wooden poles. Maggie slowed down and wound her window down a few inches. She brought the van to a stop and surveyed the area. One guard sat in the small shed smoking, and another was standing a few yards in front of her, a rifle tucked over his shoulder. He was busy trying to light his cigarette, and wasn’t even looking at the van. The guard in the shed looked up and slowly got up from his seat. Maggie could see an AR-15 sitting behind him, leaning against the shed wall. Sloppy, very sloppy. She smiled and let out a breath. Taking her hand off the steering wheel, she gripped the door release and waited for the guard to get closer.

“What’s going on back there?” the guard said, leaning in, bringing his head level with the door. Maggie shoved the door open, slamming the metal against his skull. The guard fell back with a grunt. Maggie pushed the accelerator down and the van lunged forward, smacking into the other guard and throwing him back several feet. His body thudded into the ground and rolled a couple of times, coming to a stop against a tree, He didn’t move. She turned her attention back to the first guard. He was sitting up, clutching his head. Maggie jumped out of the van, jogged a few steps and kicked him in the head like it was a soccer ball. His head snapped back and he crumpled to the ground. Maggie reached into the guard shed and grabbed the rifle. Checking it was loaded, she flicked off the safety and put a bullet into the unconscious guard’s head. She had a flutter of regret, but brushed it aside. These bastard traitors deserved no less. She glanced over to the guard lying prone against the tree and jogged over. He was grunting something.