1. Just One Damned Thing After Another (17 page)

I crossed my fingers and pulled the power switch down and just as it had done on my first jump, everything lit up again. I could hear the chatter over the com system. I switched to the night light.

Someone started shooting. Someone else shot back and then trigger-happy tourists were letting off at everything in sight including each other. Voices were raised, shouting to cease fire, but no one listened. Terrified out of their wits, they blasted away wildly into the night. I prayed our people were on their way back, leaving this lot either to shoot themselves, or fall prey to whatever was roaring and bellowing in the darkness around them. It seemed very possible we would all be killed by idiots rather than villains, which would be typical.

Someone shouted an alarm. I suspected we had been discovered, but they still weren’t sure what was happening and in the unexpected darkness they were their own worst enemies. Over the general din I could hear the unmistakable sounds of large animals moving through the night. God help everyone and everything out there.

The shooting had stopped. Everyone was running. Our guys would be trying to get back, but in the confusion I couldn’t work out who was who. I stood in the doorway, armed and ready to repel anyone or anything that wasn’t St Mary’s.

Close by, I could hear heavy breathing. Very heavy breathing. I took a silent step backwards into the pod and whatever it was pounded away into the night.

The screaming redoubled. You put dinosaurs and people together, you always get screaming. For the dinosaurs, of course, it was a feeding frenzy. They roared, pounced, and ripped. Lumps of things that were no longer human being were flung around the landscape. The top half of a man, still screaming, hit the side of the pod and bounced off into the night.

I could see green figures running back towards my pod. As they came closer I opened up the med kits so I could start giving treatment as soon as possible. The roaring and shrieking got closer. Come on guys! Then, finally, I could hear Murdoch shouting and they fell into the pod.

‘Report, ‘I said.

‘All here except Markham. Two casualties but nothing serious. Evans ran into a building in the dark and knocked himself silly, although it’s hard to tell.’

Evans, lowering himself to the floor and clutching a blood soaked dressing over his right eye, grinned at me. ‘Did you see those fuckers run?

‘Any news?’ asked Murdoch.

‘The livestock’s free.’

‘Yeah, we noticed. It’s bloody chaos out there,’ he said, slapping another dressing on top of the blood-stained original. Evans yelped. ‘Wuss! Those things are crazy for blood. It’s going to take more than cabbage spray to keep us safe tonight.’

I went back to the door. ‘We’re missing Markham and we may get stragglers from the other pods. I’ll stand guard. Who’s the other casualty?’

‘Me,’ said Weasel, thickly. His nose was broken and bloody.

‘What happened to you? You fall over your own feet?’

I swear he blushed. ‘Go on,’ said Murdoch. ‘Tell her.’ Weasel shook his head. ‘He was hit by a flying body part. A bloody leg flew through the air and caught him right between the eyes.’

I know I opened my mouth to make some sarky comment and I know I never got to say it. A white-hot flash seared my vision, leaving purple and green after-shadows. The ground heaved beneath my feet. I swear the pod bounced and a shock wave knocked me backwards. I fell heavily on my injured shoulder. Everything flickered wildly. Fractionally later, I heard the massive boom. It seemed to go on for a very long time. The pod trembled. Shakily, I got up on to my knees and groped for my gun because the door was still open. Beside me, Murdoch, also on his knees, shook his head.

I said, ‘What was that?’ and my voice seemed miles away. I crawled to the console to check the systems. Maybe one of the volcanoes had erupted. I wasn’t steady on my feet and my ears rang. The screen broke up, showed nothing but static and then cleared again.

I said to Murdoch, ‘Any ideas?’ My voice sounded strange inside my own head.

He shook his head, carefully. ‘At a guess I’d say a fuel dump, given the heat and ferocity of the explosion. Bloody hell.’ He shook his head again.

I scanned the outside. Fires had broken out everywhere. There were a lot of figures on the ground. Huge shapes were swooping on the few still desperately trying to get away. I looked back into my pod. Evans and Weasel had managed to cover everything in blood. The place looked like a slaughter house. I was uneasy at having the door open, but had no choice. The two or three seconds it took to open could be the difference between living and dying a particularly unpleasant death. We heard a bellowing roar close by. Murdoch picked up his gun. ‘I’ve got it.’ he said. ‘Can you see to Whissell?’

I mopped up the still gushing Whissell. ‘I’m OK,’ he said wonkily, determined to be the tough man, so I switched the coms to speaker, to listen to the chatter and find out what was happening.

It wasn’t good. I could hear Kalinda’s voice raised over the racket in her pod. From what I could gather they had taken heavy casualties and the Boss was down. Her team was all present. I heard her ordered to return.

I said, ‘Wait …’ But she had already gone. Faintly I heard Barclay say, ‘Maxwell, return to St Mary’s at once.’

I said, ‘Izzie …’ but she said, ‘At once, Maxwell. That’s an order.’

‘She must have Markham,’ said Murdoch. ‘Silly pillock.’ Not quite sure who he was referring to there.

I closed the door on the snarling and screaming. Sudden silence fell; no sound but Whissell’s bubbly breathing. I took one last look at the screen just in case Markham could be seen somewhere, and we jumped.

I had the decon light on even before we got back. Helen waited with medical teams at the ready. I got my people sorted and away and then pushed my way towards Kal, shouting for Markham as I went. No one had seen him. Kal and Helen were bent over the Boss. His front was soaked with blood and his face looked very white. I couldn’t see if he was conscious.

Kal gripped my arm. ‘I’ll go with the Boss and see what’s happening upstairs. You get this lot sorted.’ I nodded and moved away, bumping into Perkins.

‘Come on, Polly; let’s get them all back behind the line.’

Shoving, persuading, cursing, we got everyone out of harm’s way and behind the safety line. I stood on a crate.

‘Markham? Has anyone seen Markham?’ People shook their heads and looked around.

Someone said, ‘He’ll have gone back to the wrong pod. You know what he’s like. Barclay will be bollocking him rigid at this very minute.’

I sent up a prayer to any deity who might be taking a temporary interest in St Mary’s and at that moment, Number Three turned up. There was an audible sigh of relief and a minor surge forward.

‘Stay back, all of you,’ I shouted and went forward. As I got there, the door opened and Barclay stepped out. She looked awful; so bad that I visually checked her for injuries. She leaned forward and put her hands on her knees, gasping for breath. I rubbed her back gently. She was IT and not on the active list. It was her first mission. She had the right to a wobbly moment. I stepped past her into the pod. I don’t know what I expected. Worst case scenario: dead and dying men, blood, pain, trauma, the works.

The pod was empty.

I couldn’t grasp it. I kept looking round and round. It just didn’t go in. I stepped back outside. ‘Where are they?’

‘They’re dead. All of them. All four of them. Oh, God.’ She threw up on her own boots. I ignored my sympathetically heaving insides and stepped back into the pod again. Still no Farrell, Guthrie, Markham, or Peterson, no weapons, no trace, not even a blood stain. I felt my own head spin. I took two or three very deep breaths and closed my eyes for a moment. Then I stepped back out of the pod and ran my eyes over those left.

‘Murdoch, Ritter – to me.’

She straightened up, wiping her mouth. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Rescue mission. You two; get your weapons charged up and back here to me.’

‘No.’

‘What?’

‘They’re dead. I told you.’

I said very gently, ‘Be that as it may, Izzie, we still go back for the bodies. You get yourself upstairs and I’ll see to this.’

‘No, I told you, they’re dead. There’s no point.’

I was hanging on by my fingertips here. I wished to God she’d stop saying, ‘They’re dead.’

‘We don’t leave our people behind, Izzie, you know that. Don’t worry, no one’s expecting you to go back; you’ve more than done your bit tonight. I’ll go. Are you ready, guys?’

‘Stand down, you men. Back in line.’ They looked at me, which pissed her off no end, but she had the seniority, so I kept my face neutral. They slowly backed off, not looking happy at all.

I tried again. ‘Look, Izzie, we have to go back for them. We can’t …’

‘For fuck’s sake, Maxwell!’

Her voice rose to a scream. She never swore. I was startled into silence. ‘I know you never listen to anyone else, but do you ever stop to listen to yourself? How many more people do you want to kill tonight? This whole cluster-fuck is your fault. You’re a disaster. Everything you touch, everywhere you go, people die. You brought Dieter back in pieces. You didn’t bring Sussman back at all. The Boss is down. Half the unit is injured. Farrell, Guthrie, Peterson, Markham – dead. All thanks to you. There will be no rescue mission. No more lives will be risked over this. Now get your report written up and see me in the morning so I can decide what to do with you.’

‘Fine, yes, whatever. But for God’s sake, you’ve got to send someone. If not me, then –’

‘Jesus fucking Christ, Maxwell, what do I have to do to get through to you?’ She really was screaming now. I could hear people breathing in the silence.

I struggled for the calm I wasn’t feeling. ‘Izzie, I know you don’t understand how important this is, but …’ I could not have said anything worse but I was hurt, frightened, and fighting rising panic.

‘No, Maxwell, what is important is the safety of every person in this unit, not your own over-inflated ego. You will – where are you going?’ I had stepped into the pod.

‘I told you. Rescue mission. I’ll go alone. No risk to anyone.’

‘Murdoch, Ritter, get her out of there.’

I’ve never known the unit so quiet. There was nothing, no sound, no background noises, just the total absence of any sound at all except for the blood thudding in my head. I tried again.

‘Izzie, I’ll go alone if that’s what’s concerning you. Just let me get a weapon.’

‘No!’ She was verging on the hysterical.

‘Then I’ll go without one.’

‘You will not go at all.’

She turned and began to walk away. I reached out, grabbed her arm and yanked her back, harder than I intended. ‘Izzie …’ and realised what I had done. Everything went very still. She looked down at my hand. I let go and stepped back. Her eyes glittered and she looked half mad.

‘Maxwell, with immediate effect you are dismissed from this unit.’ She turned to Murdoch. ‘She is to be gone within one hour. She may take personal items only. She turned back to me. ‘No books, no printed material of any kind. No electronics. Your computer will be sterilised and returned to you after a security check. You will not now or ever discus anything pertaining to this unit with anyone. You will not contact any member of this unit. Ever. For you, St Mary’s no longer exists. Now get out. If you are still here in one hour, I will have you arrested. Murdoch, she is to speak to no one and no one is to speak to her. Is that clear?’ She raised her head and glared around the hangar.

No response. They were in shock. I was in shock. She nodded to Murdoch. ‘Get her out of this building. Everyone else remain here for one hour.’

I couldn’t have moved to save my life. Murdoch, who looked pretty distressed himself, took my arm, probably more gently than she would have liked, and we began the long walk back to my room. Ritter fell in behind.

As we passed the kitchen, I saw Mrs Mack directing operations. She came out. ‘Where is everyone?’

I waited for Murdoch to speak but he said nothing. Neither did Ritter. I remembered I wasn’t the only person who’d lost someone tonight.

Mrs Mack said, ‘Max?’ and looked at each of us in turn.

Finally, in a tiny, dead voice I found from somewhere, I said, ‘They’re … confined to Hawking for an hour. They’ll be gagging for a drink … Can you get that lot on trolleys and take it down to them, please?’

She nodded and looked in puzzlement at Murdoch and Ritter who were looking at the floor. Neither of them looked happy at all and for a moment I wondered … but Guthrie trained his people well. They would follow their orders.

I stumbled up the stairs to my room. My home for the last five years. But not any longer. I stood blankly by the bed and it was Murdoch who reached my sports bag down off the wardrobe. He unzipped it, checked it was empty, and put it on the bed.

‘Come on, Max. Time’s passing.’

As if anyone knew that better than me.

What I wanted to do was curl up in a corner, turn my face to the wall, and just let go. What I had to do was pull myself together, pack what I needed, abandon the rest, and find somewhere to go,

And not think. Don’t think. Don’t think about anything. I’d been trained to deal with catastrophe. First rule. Deal with the now. Deal with everything else later. It’s not as if any of it was important. Nothing was important any more. Nothing mattered.

I picked up the Chief’s photo and pushed it into an outside pocket. Murdoch pulled it back out again. ‘No, Max. Sorry.’

‘It’s a personal possession.’

‘It’s a picture of a member of this unit.’

My voice wobbled. ‘Not any more it’s not.’

‘Can’t allow it. Sorry.’ And his voice wasn’t steady either.

I wouldn’t let go. He tried to pry my fingers away.

‘Max, please don’t make me hurt you.’

I remembered this was Big Dave Murdoch and no matter how many times he’d fallen over for me in Self Defence classes, at the end of the day, he could hurt me badly. He wouldn’t want to, but he would.

He wouldn’t let me take the Trojan Horse, either.

‘Dave,’ I pleaded and my voice cracked. He shook his head, not looking at me.