Adrian Smith - The Fourth Phase

Dee checked the girl’s pulse. Her heart leapt. Weak, but present. It was then that she realised: the poor girl had been crucified. The depravity of it sickened her. With a silent apology, she yanked Beth off the cross and flung her across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Grunting with the effort, she struggled back to the stairs.

Jack had made it to the floor and continued to fire at the Alpha and his guards. He stopped firing to take Beth from Dee.

Dee pivoted around and fired her penultimate magazine at the Alpha. He bellowed at the barrage of metal.

Her two-way squawked, and Ben’s voice rang out. “Keep firing, I’m going for the boys.”

She looked over, and watched as Ben and Eric descended, firing as they went.

Dee concentrated on covering them. The Alpha bounded towards her and, bellowing, swung a huge claw at her. She spun to one side, but his claw gouged her shoulder. Dee winced at the pain. She ducked from his follow up, slipped on some intestines, and skidded. As she slid, she fired up at the Trophy King, hitting him in the groin. She saw his eyes go wide, and realised that her bullets had hit a weak spot. She peered closer. She could see patches of pink skin on his inner thighs and at the bottom of his stomach.

The Trophy King bellowed a deep, angry roar and swung out another huge claw. Dee rolled away, avoiding certain death. The Alpha caught her rifle and it slipped from her grasp.

“Dee!” Jack yelled, concern evident in his voice.

She didn’t look at him. The Trophy King turned towards her and snarled, flashing his sucker mouth filled with teeth. The grotesque heads mounted on his shoulders jiggled. Dee let out a breath. She reached back and drew her Katana.

The Alpha was ten metres away, his feet planted wide, arms and claws outstretched. He let out a ferocious screech.

“Dee! No!” Jack screamed again.

She smiled. She looked over at Boss and George, huddled in their cage of bones, watching her with tears in their eyes.

She let out a breath, and charged the Trophy King, Katana held high. Screaming all her anger. All her hate. All her frustration. Everything she had.

As she reached the Alpha, she tucked into a roll, ducking underneath his swinging claws. Passing through his legs, she leapt up and slashed deep into his groin, continuing the slice up into his stomach. Then she reversed the blade and swung down, slicing through the backs of his ankles. The Trophy King stumbled, turned, and fell to one knee, eyes fixed on Dee. A wet sloshing sound made her smile as the Alpha looked down to see his intestines falling to the ground.

Dee leant back and shoved the Katana through his eye, impaling him to the hilt. The Alpha grunted once and toppled sideways.

Dee dropped to the ground next to the Trophy King, relief overcoming her. She heard running feet and, looking up, saw Jack. He reached down and hauled her to her feet, pointing to the door above Ben and Eric, where Variants were struggling to get back into the room. Jack handed her rifle back to her before turning. He aimed his carbine and shot the Trophy King twice in the head.

Rule #2. Double tap.

Dee clicked in her last magazine. She ran over to the cage, opened it, and grasped the boys in a hug.

George sobbed into her shoulder.

“I’m sorry we weren’t there,” she sobbed.

Boss struggled to stand on one leg, so Dee wrapped an arm around him, helping him steady himself. She watched as he glanced up at the Variants fighting through the barrage of bullets to get to the humans. “Thanks, Dee. Let’s get out of here.”

Jack reached down and lifted George. Then he ran for the stairs and went up, taking two at a time. Ben, Eric, and Maggie fired into the knot of Variants swarming into the throne room. The Renegades backed out of the room of horror. Jack put George down next to Beth in the corridor, and lay down covering fire as Ben and Eric ran up the stairs. Screeches filled the cavernous room, bouncing around like an aviary of undead parrots.

Jack fired at a beast to his left, taking a chunk out of its face. The Variant howled and leapt, landing on the stairs next to Eric.

Eric spun, bringing up his shotgun. The Variant speared him through the torso, tearing into his flesh. Eric screamed and smashed his fist into the Variant, trying to get him off. The monster held on and tore at his chest.

The Renegades looked on in horror. Jack met his gaze. Tears forming, he raised his AR-15.

Eric shook his head. Holding up one of the explosive bricks, he reached down for a grenade.

Ben pushed Jack back out into the hallway. “Go!”

Jack reached down and lifted George into his arms. He could see Dee a few metres farther down the hallway with the hopping Boss. Ben slammed the door behind them. Jack ran with George in his arms, away from that pit of despair. Away from the horrors that would be forever etched into his mind. Away from the Alpha and his disciples of death. He shook his head, remembering Dee’s desperate move that ended the Trophy King. As he rounded the corner, a huge explosion tore through the air. He cradled George’s head and dropped to the floor. The heat of the fireball washed over him. Jack said a silent prayer for Eric, rolled over, and ran for the exit.

Maggie was struggling with the weight of the unconscious girl she was carrying, so she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The sweat poured off her forehead and dripped onto the concrete floor. She had no idea where she was going; she just followed the figure in front of her.

Maggie looked around at this motley group of soldiers, amazed at their tenacity. “Renegades”, the older guy had called them. He reminded her of Gandalf with his long beard, leading by example, never wavering. Trusting his friends. The petite woman she had saved from that onslaught had just killed the biggest Variant Maggie had seen. She was certain it was the same one from yesterday. The woman had just sliced open the Variant’s stomach, spilling his guts before stabbing him through the eye.

Maggie had hoped she would find such people. She still wanted to keep her promise and rescue those she had left behind in the camp. She looked up at the petite woman, who was standing in the open door, a faint smile on her lips. Maggie liked her already. She had a way about her. Something that put you at ease. She gave a friendly nod as they exited the dam. The jarring sounds of battle from outside made her tense her muscles. She peered across the dam. One chopper buzzed around, firing its 50 cal ammo into the Variant horde. The wreckage of the other was still on fire, the smoke pouring out and swirling with the wash of the attacking helicopter. Maggie adjusted the girl and gritted her teeth, then pushed on up the metal stairs, eager to escape this hell.

The Renegades stopped at the top of the stairs. Maggie glanced around. The petite woman and the tall guy were gasping for breath. The old guy pulled out his radio and yelled into it, “Seven ready for extraction. Over.”

There was a pause, hissing and static crackling out. “Copy that, Renegades. LZ extremely hot. Can you reach the rowing tower? Over.”

Maggie caught the old guy’s eye. He frowned, and then looked out over the lake. She followed his gaze. Sitting two hundred feet off the shore was a small square building, raised up on metal stilts with thick concrete feet that extended below the waterline. Looking around desperately, Maggie spotted a small pontoon tied up to the dam, next to a large metal grate.

“Down there!” she yelled, pointing.

The old soldier spoke into his radio. “Yes, we can make it. Sergeant Hollis, cover us.”

Maggie heard something else said, but it was garbled. She followed the others over the small wall that bordered the narrow road, and headed for the boat.