Adrian Smith - The Rule of Three - An Extinction Cycle Novella

Searched the house… New clothes… A little food… No cars… A mountain bike…

Jack pedaled down the centre of the road, his ears straining for any sounds, but all he could hear were insects and the odd bird call. And the squeaks of the bike.

Biking past the school, Jack stopped and looked in the windows, searching for the staff room and more food. Piled up in one corner, he saw a sort of blanket fort that made him smile.

Going inside, he met Sarah and her son, George. Sarah told him she was a teacher there. That because the school was a local Civil Defence safe zone, Sarah had come here to wait out the virus. Jack was the first person to show.

He spent precious hours trying to convince Sarah to go downriver with him, explaining what he had discovered about the creatures: that, for some reason, they wouldn’t enter the water. He was sure that taking a boat downriver to Hamilton would be the safest way to travel. Sarah argued, saying, “What then? Where do we go from there?”

Jack then told her about Dee. About their cabin in the mountain valley, its total isolation…

A screech and a couple of answering howls made them all jump. Sarah ushered Jack and George into the blanket fort.

Jack laughed. “In here?”

“Yes,” Sarah answered, with a challenging look.

He ducked through to see George disappearing down a trapdoor. He turned back to Sarah, grinning. “Sorry.”

They waited out the terror, down there in the utility space, all night. They only heard the occasional screech. George fell asleep between them, nestled into Sarah. With not enough room for either of the adults to stretch out, it had been a restless night.

The next day, they set out at midday, knowing they had at least three hours to reach Cambridge and find a boat. Sarah suggested a speed boat cruising company that had boats moored at a jetty.

They made good time, and were searching for the boat when they were ambushed. A black blur knocked the wind out of Jack. Hitting the ground, he could have sworn he saw a giant figure with spiky shoulders standing in the distance, pointing and growling out orders. The last thing Jack saw was George holding out his hand to him, pleading. A creature lent toward his face and squirted a hot, stinging liquid, then everything went dark…

Right in front of him, the same boy held out his arm to Jack, his ice blue eyes pleading. Jack shook his head. Fate was strange. Rising to his knees, he remembered he had a little Swiss Army Knife in his first aid kit. Praying the creatures wouldn’t hear him, he searched his pack, hurrying. Pulling out the knife, he made quick work of the strange muck holding George to the wall.

George collapsed into his arms, whimpering. He eased the boy down to the ground and gave him the water valve. Seeing the liquid move along the tube, he searched around for Sarah.

Jack jogged a few meters up the corridor, now looking at each face. Searching. Blonde hair? No. Move on. He saw kids, adults, elderly, Maori, European, Asian, Pacific. It really didn’t matter. Everyone was here. The population. Food. Not seeing Sarah, Jack knew he and George needed to keep moving. Lingering any longer increased risk of discovery. Making his way back to George, he hefted him up into his arms and made his way toward the door with the red sign, continuing to search faces as he went.

Jack could see the sign on the door now: SWITCH ROOM. The walls on either side looked new. Trying the handle, it thankfully gave, and he hurried through. As he put George down, the boy whimpered. He crouched down till he was at eye level with the child, who was staring at him vacantly. In that fleeting moment, he realised all the horror the poor kid had seen in the last few days. Grasping his shoulder, Jack comforted him. “We’ll survive, George. We have to.”

He took in the layout of the large room. To either side of the door were storage lockers. Then, down the left- and right-hand walls stood rows of metal cupboards. In the far right corner were more of the storage lockers. A small handbasin stood in the far left corner, while a small window was set centrally in the wall opposite. Bright sunlight shone onto the floor of the room. Opening one of the cupboards revealed panels of switches, similar to those on a household meter board, but industrial scale. He read the labels: UTILITY ROOM; TURBINE ROOM; GATE HOUSE.

Moving to the small window set in the opposite wall, he looked out. Below him surged a river.

And then all the clues added up. The switch labels, the north-facing dam, the large river below it… The river was the mighty Waikato River.

And we’re in the bloody dam! They’re imprisoning us in the dam! Why?

George murmured something, so he hurried over.

“What’s up, buddy?”

“Mum?” croaked George.

Jack paused. Do I tell him the truth? Sugarcoat it? Deciding, he went for in between. “Still out there, buddy. You and I are going to be like Spiderman and save her. What do you think of that?”

He barely saw George nod his head in agreement. “You must be hungry, eh?”

This time he got a better response. “Okay buddy, you hang in there. I just want to barricade this door first, ok?”

Jack quickly searched the room for anything to lean up against the door. He didn’t want to drag anything across the floor. Seeing nothing, he started looking for alternatives.

Jack moved past the metal switch cupboards to the back of the room, to where the storage lockers were. They were set against adjacent walls, and a gap had been left in the corner. It was perfect. It wouldn’t help against any monsters, but it might be of use if the fat guy came along.

Collecting George, he hoisted him up to sit on top of the lockers, then hauled himself up and down the other side, and lifted George down. Pulling all his clothes out of his pack, he made them into a sort of bean bag to sit on. Then Jack opened up his often-sniggered-at snack box.

Who’s laughing now, eh?

Handing George some chocolate, the little red-head kid smiled at him. They ate in silence, enjoying the sweet chocolate.

Jack looked down at George eating, and thought about the other boy he’d tried to save. I don’t want to lose another to those things.

With some hope for escaping this nightmare, Jack grinned at the little fighter. “Well, George, how do we get out of the Pit of Despair?”

Dee stirred in the bottom of the boat and stretched out her cramped legs. She could see Boss, who was focused on keeping the boat in the middle of the river. The pack of Variants had tracked them upriver all night, screeching at them. Dee was surprised she had fallen asleep. Her nerves were a tattered mess. Searching the riverbanks, there was no sign of the monsters.

“Hey.” She smiled, looking at Boss.

“Yeah!” Boss scowled back.

Dee shook her head, but let it go. “Any idea where we are?”

“Still out in farming land, by the smell. Variants bugged off about an hour ago.”

“About time. Don’t know if I could handle that much longer. I felt like a goldfish being watched by a ravenous, angry cat.”

Boss scoffed. “What do you mean? You slept all night.”

“Well, someone had to.” Dee smiled and pushed herself up. Her eyes scanned around, searching. “C’mon. Let’s find some food. And we really need a gun. Farmers are good for guns, right?”

Boss shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Turning the wheel, he moved the boat closer toward the shore. Dee gripped her Katana as she searched the banks for the Variants, fearful of them darting out of the shadows.