Close by and just off to their left there was a snap sounding like a branch being placed under too much strain. There was a rustle followed by a rasping grunt. Through the night vision goggles and just a few metres away amongst the bushes, Stan detected movement.
Bull had also seen and heard the disturbance and stepped across, moving in a half crouch as he neared the source of the sound. He was nervous, the memory of their previous encounter fresh in his mind. His adrenaline had only just begun to dissipate from his system, and now he began to feel it resurge. The bushes rustled again, clearly not from the wind, and more groans came from amongst the swaying leaves.
“Shit,” he whispered, feeling his muscles tense and his finger instinctively press against his safety catch. “Here we go again.”
He squinted into the darkness and the area directly ahead of him as he reached the roadside. There was something there, right in front of him, but his eyes were slow to adjust. He was not wearing NVGs, and it took him a few seconds to recognise what he was looking at. Eventually, a strange and intricate shape began to emerge, darker than its surroundings and moving in a different, more erratic manner compared to the rest of the greenery that gently oscillated from side to side in the wind.
“What the fuck?” he gasped under his breath, unsure if his eyes were deceiving him.
There, sitting at the side of the road, was one of the infected. However, this particular corpse was much different from what he was used to seeing. He had seen them in all kinds of states and predicaments from bloated, waddling cadavers dragging themselves from the water, to just a head and shoulders, hauling itself along with only one arm. There had been one in particular with no arms and only half a face that had become a walking sanctuary for birds that nestled inside its ribcage. Another was a virtual beehive. He had seen them in every manner possible, or at least he thought he had.
Bull leaned in closer and watched it with curiosity. It must have been there for years while becoming overgrown with weeds and vines. He had seen how some of the dead became dormant after long periods, choosing to sit or stand in the same spot until something caught its attention. The one in front of him, fighting with its organic restraints, had probably been sitting there for the past decade, Bull guessed.
Now, sensing movement close by, and seeing a living human being for the first time in many years, something stirred within it and awoke it from its inactivity. As Bull approached to get a closer look, the thing let out a gasping moan, its mouth stretching wide and releasing a colony of bugs that had been nesting in its throat. It was almost completely skeletal and was covered in green moss and brown mould. It would probably be incapable of standing even if it managed to work its way free from the weeds that ensnared it.
Bull was able to see the plant life and insects that had made themselves a home within the creature’s decomposing flesh. Wilted dandelions sprouted from between its clavicle with more tangles of weeds and thin branches sprouting up from its abdomen. It was hard to distinguish where the corpse stopped and the trees began.
“Have you seen this? Look at it. It looks like somebody’s sick idea of a flower-bed,” Bull grunted, unable to contain his macabre interest.
At the sound of his words the dead body began to fight harder against the vines. It thrashed its head and snarled loudly. With a hollow pop, it wrenched its body away from the bushes, leaving behind one of its arms that had become fused with the bark of a tree. Bull jumped back as the upper torso fell forward and hit the ground with a crunch and a snap, its brittle spine breaking in two while its legs and lower abdomen remained embedded within the weed growth. It continued to writhe and claw at the road’s surface, gnawing at the tarmac with its shattered teeth, and reaching out towards Bull’s boots.
“Shut it up, for fuck sake,” Stan snarled from the right.
Bull snapped himself back from his morbid curiosity and pulled out his blade. Stepping to the side of the corpse, he lunged forward as the creature began to moan and wail. He stooped and drove the knife into the back of its skull and instantly withdrew. Complete silence was once again restored to the area.
“You should’ve had a look,” Bull said to Stan as he joined him at his side. “Really fucking weird how it had turned into half-man, half-tree.”
“Crack on with your botany interests on your own time,” Stan replied with disapproval. “Stay switched on.”
Seconds later, after Stan had confirmed the directions from the sign post, the small convoy was moving again. Stan had been correct in his estimations of distance, and within an hour, after having to navigate around more blockages along their route, they were approaching the location of the intended rendezvous.
Charlie had chosen the location for them, having recced the area personally. It was just two kilometres from the suburbs; prominent but remote enough not to be particularly attractive or accessible for the roaming dead. It had once been a public park with a large hill jutting up in the centre and surrounded by relatively flat, low ground. It could be seen from a distance against the horizon, even in the dark, and the observatory placed on top of the high ground made it impossible to miss.
Along a narrow track running up a short but steep hill, the vehicles approached the meeting point. From beyond the treetops they could see the observatory, its dome roof towering above the surrounding area. As Stan’s vehicle pushed through the trees that flanked the track and emerged into a flat open area, they saw a much smaller building a hundred metres to the left of the main structure, surrounded by a two-metre-high wire fence. A man was standing in the area between the buildings deliberately silhouetting himself against the dark grey sky.
“There he is,” Taff announced, knowing that the others had already seen him.
The lead vehicle stopped a few metres short, but Taff kept the engine running and remained seated behind the wheel. The second vehicle had gone static at the treeline, remaining tucked into the shadows on the crest of the hill. There, Kyle and Mark would cover the approaches and be ready to give support to Stan and the others if things were not as they should be at the rendezvous. Nothing was going to be taken for granted, and they needed to confirm the identity of the figure and ensure that the area was secure before moving in completely.
Stan stepped out and walked towards the man. The ground beneath him was wet, and his boots squelched lightly through the muddy grass. He could see the large shape of Bull moving along to his right, his rifle trained on the figure standing before them.
“It’s about time you old ladies decided to turn up,”
the man grunted in a hushed, deep voice.
“We were beginning to think that you were planning on leaving all the hard work to me and my boys.”
Even without being able to see his face Stan could tell that Charlie was smiling. The man always smiled, and his displays of affection and friendship were never false. He had an aura about him that exuded warmth and affability. Even in pitch blackness, Stan could feel the man’s delight at seeing them arrive safely radiating out from his body.
Sitting in the small maintenance building while two of Charlie’s men, Trevor and Bryn, remained outside to watch the area, Stan and his team were briefed on the situation. It was cramped inside, the small building never having been intended to be more than a storage shed for tools and equipment, and large enough to house a small portable generator and for two or three people to work inside with a degree of comfort. Now there were seven of them crammed into the tight space, breathing the same stuffy air, and in close proximity.
“You smell ripe,” Bull grunted to Charlie who was crouched to the left of him.
“Yup, I guessed as much. We haven’t been living in luxury the way that you fellows have for the past few weeks. One good thing about this place, though,” he continued, turning to Bull with a wide smile. “It has a chemical toilet that still works. Real toilet paper, too. We couldn’t believe our luck when we broke in here. All the looters in the early days must’ve forgotten about this place.”
“Paradise,” Bull concurred sarcastically, but fully aware of how small victories and luxuries could make a hard task seem more bearable.
He looked at Charlie and could see that the man’s delight for their fortunate discovery was genuine. He laughed and patted the older man on his shoulder.
“How’s things with you, Taff? You brought me any fags?” Charlie asked, turning to the one man who always seemed to be well stocked with cigarettes. “We ran out a few days ago, and every place we’ve checked around here has been picked clean.”
Taff grunted and pulled a fresh packet from his pocket. He tossed them over to Charlie without saying a word.
Charlie turned to Bull and raised an eyebrow. It was not like Taff to be so sullen around him. They had been good friends for years, and their banter was usually relentless.
“Ah, don’t mind him,” Bull reassured him. “He’s just being precious. He got felt up by a dead bloke earlier, and he hasn’t been the same since. I think it gave him a hard on, and he feels ashamed about it.”
“Fuck off,” Taff grunted, running his fingers through his matted beard and grinning back at Charlie. “Just tired is all. Been a long day, mate.”
Charlie nodded, glad to hear that his friend was just in need of some rest.
“Any comms with the people inside?” Stan asked, wanting to get down to business and work out what their next move should be.
“Nothing as yet. We helped a couple of them out earlier today, actually.”
“How do you mean?”
“Two of them got themselves trapped in the centre of town. I think they may have been looking for something specific, but they got spotted and were surrounded by thousands of those things. We played the old music box trick to distract the dead and help them escape. It worked a treat, mostly. They managed to get out, but we lost track of them.”
“How’s things at their base? Any change?”
“Yeah, some big changes,” Charlie replied gravely. “Thousands of the dead have launched an assault. They’ve closed in on the perimeter, and now the walls are thick with them. There was a fair bit of shooting earlier on, but things have gone quiet now. I don’t think the perimeter has been breached, but I can imagine that they’ll all be in a bit of a flap at the moment.”
“Do you think the walls and gates will hold?” Taff asked.
Charlie shrugged. During the hours of daylight, two of his men had kept a close eye on the fortress, watching as the dead advance grew in size and force. For hours they had been mercilessly battering away at the concrete walls and steel gates, and no one could be sure that the perimeter would hold, especially after all these years.
“It’s hard to tell. I’d say that their weakest points will be the gates. Personally, I think it’s only a matter of time before one of them collapses.”
“What about the two blokes you helped?” Kyle added. “Any idea how they got back, or
if
they got back?”
“Yeah, we think they went through the sewers. There’s no way that they could’ve gone over land and through the streets. Not with the amount of activity in the area. If they
have
made it back to home ground, then I bet they went under the city.”
“Have you been down there?” Stan asked, already knowing that his question was redundant. Charlie and his team would undoubtedly have taken a look for themselves.
Charlie grinned at him, his face appearing demonic in the flickering light of the two small candles that provided the only illumination within the hut. He reached up and scratched at his head with one of his shovel sized hands.
“You know me, Stan. I’ve climbed Everest twice and walked to the North Pole. I can never shy away from an adventure. So yeah, we’ve been down there.” He turned to one of his men who was squatting in the corner and huddled around a small camping stove. “Pass me that map we made will you, Nobby? And how’s the brews coming along?”
“Few more minutes,” the man replied.
Without taking his attention away from his task of boiling up some water, Nobby reached into his pocket and tossed a piece of folded paper over to where the others were sitting.
Charlie opened it up and spread it out over the ground between him and Stan, displaying a sketch of the route they had taken beneath the city. Distances and directions were clearly marked, and each junction was labelled with a number. Detailed descriptions of the route and turnings were written beneath, giving a step by step guide on how to navigate through the sewage systems. The team leaned in for a closer look.
“It’s a lot safer than running about on the surface,” Charlie added, as Stan began studying the map. “We ran into a few pus-sacks along the way, but nothing that could be deemed as a major problem. I think they sent a few of their own guys down there, too. We heard some shooting when we were on our way back.”
“Do you think we could get them all out through the tunnels?” Kyle asked, referring to the people within the base.
“I don’t see why not,” Charlie replied with an enthusiastic nod. “As long as we have the route covered with a few teams in advance of the main group, I reckon we could safely get them through. The streets are teeming with the dead, and this is the only real option that we’ve been able to identify.”
“But you said you ran into some of the infected down there and that you heard shooting,” Bull observed.