Adrian J Smith

THE RULE OF THREE

(AN EXTINCTION CYCLE NOVELLA)

This book is dedicated to my mother, Christine Toye

who encouraged me to read from an early age

Thank you for the gift of imagination.

Also, to all those that experience bullying.

Hope is being able to see

That there is light despite

All of the darkness

Desmond Tutu

CREDITS

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Nicholas Sansbury Smith for encouraging me to write in the Extinction Cycle world. I wish you all the success in the future. Thank you.

Check out the best selling Extinction Cycle series and more like this one.

http://nicholassansburysmith.com/.

Cover design by Libby Cameron.

Edited and Proofread by Laurel Kriegler.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First I would like to again take this opportunity to thank Nicholas Sansbury Smith for encouraging me to write in his amazing Extinction Cycle world. You continue to amaze and inspire me every day. Thank you so much.

To Frances Liontakis, thank you for your words of encouragement and reading every single draft of this novella. Much appreciation for your friendship.

To Nathan Yokoyama, for reading an early draft and making some vital suggestions, thank you.

To Rodger Mintel for your humour and keeping me sane. Barbara Giannavola and Phyl Lamattina, thank you for reading the first draft, and for your encouragement.

To the Street Team, you guys are awesome. Thank you so much for your friendship.

To all my Beta readers, thank you. To Col(Ret) Russ Olson and Steve Konkoly for your invaluable military RT input, and Susan Harmon-Sanders for your medical advice. If you find any mistakes, they are entirely my fault.

To my editor, Laurel Kriegler, you deserve a huge thank you for taking a rough pile of notes and turning them into something readable. I’ve learnt more about writing in the last few months than I have in all my years leading up to this one.

And last but definitely not least, to Libby, my long-suffering partner. Thank you for taking a chance on me and always having an encouraging word. You let me sound out ideas and made me see things from a different view when I needed it most. Thank you.

PROLOGUE

Three weeks without food…

Jack’s fevered mind chanted it like a buddhist mantra, over and over. The proverbial rule of three. Problem was, Jack had no idea how long he’d been here.

When they scampered around, their bones and joints made strange crackling, popping sounds. And when they came to harvest their human captives, their weird mouths made a sucking, smacking sound. Jack hated that sound. And the stench they exuded was disgusting, a rotten fruit smell. It reminded Jack of the Durian fruit he had tried once in a Thai market, in a happier time before hell had descended on the earth.

Three days without water…

The agony of the deep gash in Jack’s thigh kept him semi-conscious with moments of lucidity. Occasional screams cut through the warm damp air, jolting Jack fully conscious each time, but the surrounding darkness and environment remained the same. Stuck fast to a wall with some sort of gluey membrane, Jack struggled against it in sheer terror and panic. He only managed to move his arms and legs a few measly inches.

Three hours without shelter…

A humming sound in the background reminded Jack of high-powered electric lines, while the cold, damp hardness of concrete pushed into the back of his legs and head, chilling him to the bone. The constant scurrying, and the smacking sounds the creatures made, haunted his fragile psyche, making him flinch whenever he heard them. Never a religious man, Jack found himself praying to any higher power he could think of. There are no atheists in a foxhole. Well, what about down here in the dark?

Three minutes without air…

Twisting his left arm back and forth, and scraping skin off in the process, Jack could almost reach the valve of his water bladder. Miraculously, his hiking pack was still on his shoulders. With a final effort, Jack grasped the valve in his hand. Bending his arm and pushing his head as far forward as he could, Jack was agonisingly close to that life saving liquid. He bellowed in frustration.

A cracking and popping sound alerted Jack to the monsters’ approach. Jack cursed at his stupidity. Holding his breath and keeping his body rigid, Jack squeezed his eyes shut.

Not me not me not me not me…

The rotten fruit smell lingered on in his nose and mind. A tearing sound, followed by the sickening thud of a body hitting the ground, made him scream silently in terror.

Not me not me not me… it’s not me… it’s not me this time.

CHAPTER ONE

Jack gazed up at the stars, captivated by the serenity and majesty of the little pinpricks of light. As many times as he looked at the Milky Way, he never grew bored of it. He inhaled deeply, the fresh forest scents lacing the chill air. He loved it up here in the mountains, away from the rat race. As much as he loved technology, the wild was where he felt at peace, at home. A conflict, as usual. The silence was enchanting, just the echoes of the stars.

For three days he had enjoyed the wilderness, off the grid. Reaching the hut earlier in the evening, Jack had enjoyed a couple of hours restful silence. Taking one last look at the Milky Way stretching from horizon to horizon, he dug into his pack and reluctantly pulled out his phone.

Immediately after booting up the phone, it alerted him to a message. Looking at the screen, Jack saw that there were several messages from Dee, the first sent three days ago, each one seeming to be getting more and more panicked. Jack frowned. He opened the last one.

JACK, PLEASE PLEASE CALL ME HURRY PLEASE… ELE… ELE… JACK NOW NOW!!!

He gasped. ELE! Extinction level event! Holy crap! Really? Is this a joke?

Pushing the phone icon, he held his breath as the phone rang. It sounded distant and tinny. After what seemed like hours, Dee answered.

“Jack? Thank God!” Without letting him answer, Dee continued, “Listen, it’s all over the news. They’ve closed all the airports, all the ports, everything is closing or closed down. You need to get home now, please, Jack. It’s horrible, it’s crazy, it’s…”

“Dee, slow down. What are you talking about?”

“It’s some virus thingy in the States. It started in Chicago. It’s already been reported in London, Paris, Sydney… everywhere!”

“Virus? Like an outbreak?”

“It’s worse Jack. It turns people into monsters! They are calling it the Hemorrhage Virus!” Dee was now shouting.

From the panic in Dee’s voice, Jack knew this was for real, no joke. They had finally done it.

They had killed the world.

Whoever “they” were.

Was it true? Had the end of the world come? A virus outbreak? Monsters?

So many thoughts swam through his head. He loved movies, comics and sci fi. Jack had daydreamed about this sort of thing happening plenty of times. He had even convinced Dee to get an isolated cabin in the woods for this kind of eventuality. But that was just a fantasy, right? This sort of thing doesn't really happen, does it?

“Jack? Are you there? JACK?… JACK!” Dee’s screams cut through his thoughts. “You have to come home. I need you!”

He looked at his phone. Then put the phone back to his ear.

“No. The city won’t be safe. You have to come to me. If the virus reaches New Zealand, it’ll turn bad real quick, desperate people and all that.”

“I think it’s already here. Th… there’s been conflicting reports. Jack, I’ve never been to where you are, and regardless, walking along the Kaimai Ridgeway to our cabin would take too long. I think you should come home.”

Jack thought quickly. “Yes, you’re right, sorry darling. Okay… ummm, fill up as much water as possible into any available container, get your bug-out bag, and fill up your car with as much food as you can. I think our cabin is isolated enough until this blows over. And, darling?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Love you too baby, thank you. Hurry!”

Jack’s phone garbled. “And lock up!”

But, looking at the screen, he could see no bars. Damn it!

Emptying out his pack, he found his headlamp. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the tension building, like in a horror movie. He hurried over to fill his water bladder up at the basin, catching his reflection in the mirror as he did. He ran a hand through his dark hair and couldn’t help but notice the worried look in his blue eyes.

Pack light, for we travel far and swift.

Glancing over his trail map one last time, he decided to take the shorter, but steeper, track down to the carpark. This is going to be a hell ride, thought Jack as he slammed the hut door behind him.

Jogging down the trail, he thought back to the day he and Dee had met.

It was the height of summer. A hazy glare bounced off the trees in the valley, and Jack could see and smell the pollen coming off the poplar trees. Taking in a breath, Jack heard two excited voices coming up the trail, the roar of the waterfall and the gurgling of the stream no match for the high-pitched excitement. Looking, he saw her for the first time. Petite, pixie-cut brunette hair, bright blue eyes behind glasses, gorgeous smile. And when she turned toward him, he could see a tattoo of flowers creeping up her arm.

Jack turned away shyly, but still managed to smile at her.

Enjoying his lunch, he listened as the two girls took in the view, snapped photos, and chatted. He was quite pleased when they sat close by to eat their lunch.

He was readying himself to leave when he felt the air change. “Do you know how far that trail goes?”

The voice was almost sing-song, its sweet tones music to his ears.

Jack looked in the direction Pixie-hair was pointing. “As far north as north goes.”

Pixie-hair laughed. “Isn’t it ‘as far south as south goes’?”

Jack smiled. “Yeah, but I know nothing.”

Pixie-hair stuck out her hand. “I’m Diana, but my friends call me Dee.”

Jack grinned, his cheeks hurting. “James, but everyone calls me Jack.”

It was hard going. Down, down, down. He hated down. His knee joints were grinding now. Fighting through the pain, he could feel the lactic acid building with every step. The trail finally flattened out as he came up to the swing bridge. Without even glancing at the view, Jack jogged on. Only one more hour. Those countless times he’d hiked this trail were really helping him now.

Arriving at the carpark, Jack fumbled for his car keys as he ran up to his car. Finally getting them in hand, he unlocked the door and jumped in. Jamming the key into the ignition, he started the car, engaged the gear, and sped off, tires spinning in the loose gravel.

I’m coming darling. I’m nearly there.

With one hand on the wheel, he turned on his phone. Tapping the phone icon, he put the phone on speaker. Nothing but garbled sound emitted from it. Looking at the bars, Jack swore in frustration. “CRAP! SHITTY SHIT SHIT!” He leant over and turned the volume up on the car stereo. A strange monotone beep emitted out. Frowning, he scanned through all the FM stations. Nothing. His pulse quickening, Jack switched to AM, and heard an emergency broadcast. He listened to it a few times, but got no actual details of the virus. It was just the announcer advising people to stay indoors. Jack ran his sweaty hands through his hair. Letting out a breath, he turned the radio off in frustration.

Jack sped on through the night, the road twisting and turning as it followed the undulating countryside.

He could see the orange glow of a fire not far in the distance. Slowing down, he wound down the window. Acrid smoke wafted in, causing him to cough. Deciding caution was best, he slowed down to 50 kilometers per hour. As he rounded a bend, he suddenly had to slam on the brakes. Cars lined the road on both sides, their occupants milling around. He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. If he’d been going any faster… Opening his eyes again, he took a better look. About 100 metres away, he could see a jackknifed milk tanker strewn across the road, its ends tangled in farmers’ fences on both sides. It was engulfed in flames, thick black smoke pouring out over the land.

Alongside his car, a family sat waiting in their car on the shoulder of the road.

Winding his window right down, he made eye contact with the driver. “Hey, how long have you been waiting?”

“About an hour,” replied the man.

Jack could see him quite well in the light from the blaze. He looked about 40-ish and had on one of those flat caps the English wear — or the hipsters. The woman sitting alongside looked frazzled. Hearing the bickering of kids emanating from the back seat, he could understand why. Both parents looked terrified, too.

Jack turned his attention back to Flatcap. “Any sign of the emergency services?”

“Nope, not yet. It’s pretty crazy out there. The roads are jammed up.”

“Hmmm. Is it this virus thingy?”

“Yeah. They announced it on the news, told everyone to stay home from work, only essential travel. That was yesterday. We decided to go and stay with family, get out of Auckland. I guess everyone else had the same idea.”

Jack nodded his head, contemplating the new information. Looking out at the tanker, the fire raging out of control, and all the cars jammed up, he knew that if he wanted to get home to Dee, he’d have to go the long way around. Making his decision, he turned back to Flatcap.

“Thanks mate. I’m going to try a different way. I really need to get home to my wife.” He cranked the car up and shifted it into gear.

“Hey!” called out Flatcap.

“Yeah?”

“Can we follow you? We don’t know this area, and with phone reception out we can’t look up Google Maps.”

“Sure, where are you headed?”

“Cambridge.”

“Cambridge? Hell, you’re way out! I’m going to Hamilton, so I can point you in the right direction.”

The lady, who had not uttered a sound until now, turned and looked at Jack. “Thank you. It’s madness out there. People are acting all crazy, driving like maniacs. We just want to get to my Mum’s and keep our babies safe.”

A high-pitched scream echoed through the night. Jack and Flatcap exchanged a look.

Squinting into the glare from the fire, Jack could just make out the source of screaming. A couple were running down the road toward where he was stopped, terror sharpening their features. The woman let out another primal scream as a black blur slammed into her. The couple went down in a tangled mess of arms and legs, just a few car lengths away.

He stared at the creature, terror freezing him. It looked like a monster straight out of his worst nightmares. His heart hammered in his chest, sending adrenaline pumping through his body. Jack struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. The creature crouched over the woman. Jack watched, dazed, as it plunged its head down and tore out the woman's throat. He gasped. Spurts of arterial blood coated the creature’s face. It turned its head toward him, as though it could see him watching it, and licked its strange, sucker-like lips. Letting out a horrible screech, it returned to its meal. Jack’s hands started to shake as he continued to stare at this abomination, unable to look away despite the horror.

The creature was reptilian-looking, with blackish translucent skin. Where the mouth should have been was instead a weird sucker-like appendage filled with sharp teeth. Jack squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the image. It proved to be difficult.

A cacophony of sounds echoed through his head. Shouts and screams. Engines starting. The swoosh of blood pumped through his ears. Frantic cries of terrified children. Children!

Snapping out of it, he looked back toward Flatcap’s car. Flatcap’s children were screaming.

Throwing his car into reverse, Jack screamed, “C’mon!” and floored the accelerator.

The crashing sound of glass breaking made Jack stop. Terrified screams pierced the night.

To his horror, three more of the creatures had appeared out of the smoke and chaos, and were swarming all over Flatcap’s car. One of them reached in through the shattered windshield — that must have been the breaking glass he’d heard — and dragged the woman out by her hair. Before he could consider the consequences, he put his car into drive and barreled toward the creature.

Jack sideswiped it, flinging it backward several meters. It smashed into another vehicle. The creature shook its head groggily, glared at him, and let out a horrific shriek.

“Get in!” Jack yelled at the woman, all the time keeping his eyes on the monster.

She whimpered, but hauled herself up with steely determination and jumped into Jack’s car.

“Go! Go!” Jack shouted out the window at Flatcap. Two of the creatures were still on top of his car.

Flatcap managed to get his car moving, and expertly spun the wheels in the loose gravel on the shoulder of the road. Wrenching the car side to side, he came out of the melee, throwing the two monsters off and into the ditch in the process.

Flooring the accelerator again, Jack squealed back down the road.

I’ll find you, Dee. Just stay put. I’m coming, promise.

“Holy shit, what the hell was THAT?” Jack said, more to himself than to his passenger. A cold sweat enveloped him. Images of what he’d just witnessed flashed through his mind. Jack tried to calm himself.

Deep breaths, in, out, in, out, in out. Deep breaths…

Though Jack could see Flatcap’s car up ahead, he was struggling to keep up with Flatcap’s panicked driving. Both cars tore through the night. He focused on the red tail lights, following his driving lines.

“What the hell was that?”

He barely heard the quiet response. “Dante’s bloody inferno.”

Jack nodded his head in agreement. “Bloody nightmare on legs. Did you see its mouth?”

“Hideous!”

He looked over at his passenger. She had her hands in her lap, clenched tightly. He could see by the way she leant away from him, curled against the back of her seat, that she wanted to be left alone with her thoughts. Staring out the windscreen, Jack had time to think.

He just couldn’t make sense of it. What the hell were those things he’d just seen? Were they what people became if they caught this virus? That just didn’t make any kind of sense. Outside of science fiction, that is. Surely no man had managed to create a virus that turned people into monsters? Surely? Jack shook his head. He had so many questions, and no answers. He banged the steering wheel in anger.

Sheesh! I’ve got to get home to Dee, and Mum! My family…

Jack looked down at his shaky, sweaty hands. He wiped them on his pants in turn, trying to get the sweat off. He clenched them into fists to try and stop the shaking, gripping and regripping the steering wheel as he did so. His mind just kept replaying the horrifying creature tearing out the poor woman's throat and lapping up her blood.

The car shuddered and swerved as it went over onto the gravel shoulder, threatening to skid out. Jack cringed, cursing at himself as he watched a road sign go under the front of the car. He took his foot off the accelerator, then pulled the steering wheel hard down to the right. To his relief, he regained control of the car. The car bumped slightly as he returned to the tarmac. He shivered as a cold frisson enveloped him. “Bloody hell! Sorry.”

Flatcap’s wife stared ahead into the darkness, oblivious. Jack looked back up the road toward the disappearing tail lights. Get it together, boy! He forced himself to take some deep, calming breaths. You have to get home first, then survive with Dee.

He had to survive. Jack had spent so many years alone, wishing for someone to share his life with. He didn't want to lose it now. Thinking of surviving reminded him of the stories his Nana had told him about living through World War Two. About how everyone had carried on as normal. How they looked after each other, helped one another when needed. How they’d sung songs down in the bomb shelters, frightened, scared, listening as the Luftwaffe rained down terror and misery. She would be telling Jack to “Keep calm and carry on.”

Thinking about how his grandparents had survived the Blitz helped Jack to calm down. He reached out and turned on his stereo. Humming along to John Williams, he drove on.

After thirty minutes, they had travelled about 20 km. The two cars came up to an intersection. Flatcap pulled over, allowing Jack to pull alongside. Jack’s passenger jumped out before the car had stopped, and ran over to her car. Jack wound the window down in time to hear her cry, “Babies! Are you okay?” The kids clambered out of the car to hug her.

Jack waved to Flatcap. “You all right?”

“Yeah, I think so. Hell, that was crazy! What the hell are those things?”

“I don’t know, man. I really don’t know.” Jack shook his head. So many thoughts were buzzing around in his head, he was having trouble concentrating. He just wanted to get home to Dee. A few hours ago he had been happily enjoying the solitude of the wilderness, back before he read Dee’s message. He’d believed her, but seeing the creatures first hand had frightened the hell out of him.

He looked back at Flatcap and his family. “We better keep moving.”

Flatcap nodded in agreement. “Definitely. Which way from here?”

“Right for a few kilometers, then left for a bit. Just follow me. Lots of turns.”

“Sure. Let’s go. I really don’t want to see any more of those things.”

“Shit yeah.”

They travelled onward through the night. Jack plotted the course in his head, thankful that his adventurous spirit had pushed him to explore all these back roads. The fact that he hated being stuck in traffic had added fuel to his passion for exploration. Everywhere he looked, the glow of fires in the direction of built up areas lit up the night. Knowing what caused them made him hurry.

Coming over the brow of a hill, Jack saw the school where he had to turn left. Realising he was going too fast, he pushed down on his brakes. Flatcap’s car nudged into the back of his, causing him to spin slightly, like in a police PIT maneuver. He wrenched the steering wheel hard left, trying to correct it, but Flatcap’s car slammed into him again, causing both cars to slide out, tyres screeching. Both of them ended up in the ditch on the side of the road.

Shaken, but unhurt, he clambered out of his car. His back wheels were stuck fast, deep down in the culvert. A short distance away, the other car’s front end was also in the culvert.

Damn it. What else can go wrong tonight? I’ve been travelling for hours, just trying to get home to Dee.

He made his way to Flatcap’s car. “You guys all right?”

The young boy in the back replied, delight evident in his voice, “We went crash!”

Flatcap hauled himself out of the car. “Yes son, we went crash.”

He looked back at Jack. “We’re all right. What happened there?”

“Going too fast, simple as that. So do you think we can get these out?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. We’re in too deep.”

“Bugger it!” Jack spat. “I’ll go see if I can find a tractor or something. Plenty of farms around here.”

Flatcap moved the peak of his hat up and down his brow. “Yeah, all right. Probably best I stay here with my family.”

Jack nodded.

Returning to his car, he grabbed his pack out of the back seat, took out his headlamp, and checked to see if it was still working. Satisfied, he looked around. Spotting a driveway farther up the road, he headed off.

Turning into the driveway, a crunch under his foot revealed gravel. Fear of being detected, by either humans or monsters, made him tread carefully and silently. His gaze darted up toward the house and back to the vehicles. Plucking up his courage, he entered the property. As he crossed the cattle grate, one of his feet slipped and he went down, the resulting clang sounding like a gunshot in the silence of the night. Jack winced, at the noise and the pain, and rubbed his foot. He prayed there were no monsters around to hear that racket. But surely they wouldn’t be so far from civilisation? He crawled off the cattle grate and got back onto his feet, testing out his foot. It would be fine. Smoothing out his pants, he carried on up the driveway. He paused every few meters to strain his hearing for any sounds.

Jack could see the house and vehicle sheds in the darkness, their silhouettes emerging from the gloom. Moving toward the shed, Jack thought he heard a popping sound. What was that? He froze. Heart hammering, he peered into the darkness. He wished he could turn on his light, but was fearful of attracting the creatures, or an angry farmer with a shotgun.

Maybe I should just knock on the door?

There were no lights on in the house, and no further sounds reached him. Jack wondered where everyone was. Had they made a run for it? Why would they? They already lived in the country; nothing out here except cows, cows, and more cows. He shook these doubts from his mind as he approached the shed.

The shed was enclosed on the sides and the back, leaving the front open to the elements; typical for farms.

He could see an old-looking tractor. Moving to the back of the vehicle, he saw that a wooden pallet forming a small platform was attached to the trailer. Piled on it was a rusty chain, and attached to both ends were large metal hooks. In the cab, the key stuck out of the ignition.

Yes! Finally! thought Jack. Some good luck.

Jumping into the seat, he checked to see if the tractor was in neutral. Then, with his fingers crossed, he turned the ignition.

The tractor coughed once, then turned over. Too loud! Too late. Engaging the gear, Jack eased his way back down the driveway. He looked back at the house every now and then, half expecting someone to come running out, or one of those hideous creatures to come tearing over. He shivered. But it all stayed quiet.

Arriving back at the cars, he found Flatcap and his family sitting on the hood of their car, their feet resting against the small clay bank. The children were eating, nestled into their parents’ sides. Pulling up alongside the cars, Jack called over, “I’ll reverse up and get yours first.”

“All right, cool.”

“You chain it up around the axle.”

“Yup, sure thing.”

He reached down and put the tractor in forward. Looking back up, he saw movement over Flatcap’s shoulder.

Several figures were moving through the school yard toward them. Their limbs seemed strange, elongated, and they moved with jerky, inhuman movements. One of the creatures let out a bloodcurdling scream. They all dropped to all fours and, with an incredible burst of speed, flew across the intervening ground toward the group.

Jack gave an inarticulate shout, but there was nothing he could do for Flatcap and his family. Within seconds, the monsters were on them. Two of the creatures slammed into Flatcap and his wife, tearing and snarling. The stench of blood permeated the air, and Jack could taste iron.

Time shifted into slow motion as he reacted. He leaned over and grabbed the chain off the platform. Unfurling it, he swung it at the nearest creature, which had grabbed one of the boys. Slamming the hook into its head, he was shocked when bits of skull and black gooey sludge fountained out. The creature slumped against the car, dead. Pulling the boy into the cab and onto his lap, Jack floored the accelerator. The tractor lurched forward down the road. With one hand on the wheel, he swung the chain at two more of the creatures. Jack couldn't believe how fast they were, easily dodging his wild swings.

The boy on his lap screamed in agony as one of the creatures tore open his leg. Jack managed to boot it in the face, smashing its sucker. It fell off, then crunched under the back wheels. Jack grinned, satisfied.

Three more of the creatures were now coming at them, flanking them in a classic pincer movement. He lost the grin.

Ugly, but not bloody stupid.

Jack was still managing to keep one creature at bay with swings of his chain. He knew he couldn’t outrun them on this old workhorse. He’d just have to outmaneuver them. The tractor might not have speed, but it did have torque.

Jack swung the wheel hard right, down a steep embankment.

Bounding over the rutted ground, the creatures drew closer.

So damn fast.

They slammed into the side of the tractor with abandon, causing it to tilt over like a listing ship. Cradling the boy, and trying to tuck himself into a ball, he leapt off the vehicle. Thumping into the ground, the boy jolted free of Jack. Immediately, one the creatures caught up to him and, with a sickening sound, tore a hunk of his muscle from his torso. The boy screamed in terror and agony, his eyes finding Jack’s. Pleading for the monster to stop.

Jack rolled to a stop at the bottom of a ravine, next to a small bridge crossing over a river. Two blurs of black came flying toward him. To his surprise, he found he was still holding the chain. Channeling his inner Viking berserker, Jack swung the chain with all his leftover strength. It connected with the closest creature, smashing into its horror hole. It ripped away the monster’s lower jaw and continued up through its eye socket, taking out black muck and brains, and killed it instantly.

Before he could turn fully, the other creature careened into him, smashing him against the bridge railing. Pain streaked up his spine and his breath fled from his lungs. The creature’s sucker mouth snapped at him, its claws trying to grasp him. Jack swung his arms, fists clenched as he thumped a few blows against the beast. Kicking out, he fought for his life.

I will not die this day.

Jack managed to get the chain up under the monster’s chin to hold off its snapping jaws. The terrible stench of rotten fruit emanating from its mouth making him gag.

One of its claws gouged deep into his thigh muscle, causing him to scream in fury. Delving down deep inside himself, and finding an inner strength he never knew he had, Jack wrapped the chain around the creature's neck. Reaching behind him, he coiled it around the railing, then secured the hook over it. The creature dug its claws deeper into his thigh, its sucker mouth smacking at him as it strained to get at his face. With a last grunt of frustration, he tumbled over the railing, clasping the snapping creature in his arms. The chain went taut and, with his added weight, the creature’s head ripped off, covering him in black gunk. He plunged down to the river, letting the creature’s body go on the way down.

The cold water prickled his skin as he splashed into the river, its frigid embrace a welcome respite. He kicked back to the surface from the blackened depths. Gasping, Jack prepared himself to be torn apart by approaching reptilian nightmares.

To his surprise, the remaining creatures stayed on the riverbank, apparently reluctant to enter the water. They snarled and hissed at him, their joints popping as they paced up and down. He welcomed the reprieve. Struggling to keep afloat, he removed his hiking pack and cradled it in his arms. Turning over, he let the current drag him away.

He stared up at the stars. His stars, the pinpricks of light.

Years of wondering what hellish creatures dwelled out in the infinite reaches of space, and Jack had never imagined he would find them on Earth.

I never knew their names…

I didn’t save the boy…

I’m sorry Dee… sorry… I tried… I’ll try… I’ll try…

CHAPTER TWO

Dee peered out through the ventilation grating. The late afternoon sunlight dappled the lawn as it shone through the beech trees bordering her back yard. She held her breath. Several of the creatures moved around her yard, sniffing at the air. She stepped backward a couple of feet, deeper into the shadows, fearful they would see her. The creatures took their time, sniffing, moving, pausing, sniffing. As they moved, popping sounds emanated from their bodies. She could see their veins through their translucent dark skin. Willing them to move on, she watched, terrified. Finally, they hopped on top of the fence and, shrieking, bounded off.

Letting out a breath, Dee nearly choked on the sewage stench as she inhaled again. She had hidden down here in the basement for three days now. It was a dumb bit of luck that had led her to discover that the creatures used their heightened sense of smell to find new victims. At first she had just barricaded the doors and windows with furniture, but by the second night the creatures had started to come past more frequently and, peering out the curtains, she had seen them hunting in packs.

On the third day, she had decided to hide down in the basement and, as she was transporting food down, she had tripped on a step, spilling spices everywhere. As she got more supplies out of the pantry, she’d heard some of the creatures howling. They’d sounded really close. Dee had pulled the pantry door closed. One of the creatures had come right up to the back door. Dee had heard it sneeze several times, and then it had scampered away. After that, she had purposely ruptured the sewage line to disguise her presence.

Dee took stock of her situation. She had about a week's worth of food, maybe ten days of water, and one weapon. Thank God Jack bought me that Katana in Japan that I’d been obsessing about. But will it be of any use against these nightmares? And no Jack.

She tried to remain calm, but her worry for her husband of three years was taking its toll. Not for the first time, she pondered whether to head on to the cabin without him or not. She remembered their first year together.

Nights spent in, cuddling on the couch, sharing their favourite movies and TV shows.

Talking late into the night about anything and everything.

Weekends spent in the wilderness exploring, sharing a love of nature. Learning, teaching each other.

Teaching what it meant to care for someone deeply. Learning tolerance of others and their situations.

Dee had thought it too late, too much of a Princess fantasy to find that “one”, but she had.

She had fought her demons, her insecurities, every day with Jack. Her anxiety got the better of her some days, causing her to stay inside, hiding from the world. Cocooning herself away.

One night, after a few drinks, Dee had opened up to Jack, poured her heart out. She had told him about all her demons. Jack had cried, pouring out his own heart and releasing his own deeply hidden demons.

That was that golden moment, that moment told in all the fairy tales.

She knew that was it. Jack was “the One.”

A popping sound caused Dee to look back out into the yard. One of the creatures was back, a straggler, maybe? It was staring straight into her neighbour's house, sniffing the air. The sound of its sucker mouth smacking making her shiver.

She prayed that her elderly neighbour Faye was hidden. In her ninety’s, she never ceased to amaze Dee with her virility by still playing tennis, and doing her garden.

The virus had taken over so fast, and with so much fury, that no one had had a chance. Before the phones had died, Dee had called Faye, telling her to hide with her in the basement to wait for Jack. Faye had refused, saying that her family were on their way. But after five days, nothing. No sign of anyone.

The creature was still there, sniffing the air, when it suddenly burst over the fence with incredible speed, shrieking. Dee heard the crash of glass breaking. Her heart sank.

Against her better judgement, she grabbed the only weapon she had — the Katana — and dashed outside. She leapt over the short boundary fence.

Dee could see the smashed window. A horrifying noise came from inside the house. Peering in, she looked at a horror film. The creature stood over Faye’s torn body, one of her arms grasped in its claws. Blood and gore dripping from its strange sucker mouth, it let out another shriek. More shrieks answered from close by, maybe a few houses down.

With blinding speed, the creature leapt at Dee.

Stumbling backwards, she brought the Katana up as she fell. The speed of the creature went against it as the tip of the sword slid in underneath its chin and up into its brain, killing it. Black, foul-smelling sludge coated Dee’s arm and neck.

Gasping, her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest, she gagged and pushed the nightmare off her. Hearing the shrieks again, but much closer, she listened intently. Screams, human screams.

Jumping up, she ran hard for her house. As she cleared the fence, she saw a group of people running up the street.

Dee gasped. People? I haven’t seen anyone for a couple of days!

Waving to them, she yelled, “Hey! In here!”

The group turned toward the sound of her voice as one, much like a school of fish being chased by dolphins.

Dee ran to her basement door and swung it open. Getting a better look at the group, Dee made out four men and a couple of women.

“Hurry! C’mon!” Dee gestured urgently for them to get inside.

The shrieking sounded really close as she slammed the door behind them, bolting it.

“Quickly, in the back,” Dee instructed. She reached into a plastic container and splashed the foul-smelling liquid over the door and floor.

Going through to the back to join the others, she huddled down with them in the dim light. And prayed for the monsters to move on.

Dee could hear them scurrying around in the yard, their joints popping. They scratched at the door, sniffing. Dee hoped that her seaweed garden solution did the trick again, its pungent stench intended to confuse the creatures, tricking them into thinking there was nothing to devour here. For the second time that day, the creatures moved on, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“What is the awful smell?” asked one of the men, whispering. Dee looked at him. Shaved head slightly overweight, funny beady eyes.

“That awful smell just saved your life,” Dee replied. A bit annoyed, she stared him down.

“Bloody hell, Matt, don’t be a dick!” exclaimed one of the women.

“Sheesh, all right.”

Dee looked over at the woman who had chastised Matt, and smiled. She had blonde hair, nice figure, a real beauty.

“Sorry about that. I’m Alice. You know Matt.” She nodded in his direction. Pointing at the others, she listed their names in turn. “Mike, Aston, Vicki, and Boss.”

“Boss?” exclaimed Dee, looking closer at the teenage boy Alice had pointed at. “What, like Bruce Springsteen?”

Boss looked at Dee, a grin on his face. “Who?”

I like this kid already.

Boss started to laugh. “Nah, it’s a gaming thing. I used to boss everyone around in my WOW guild, drove everyone nuts.”

Oh, a gamer? Dee grinned. “All right Boss.”

Addressing the group in a low voice, Dee said, “That foul smell is raw sewage. It hides our scent from those creatures out there. That stench I put on the door is seaweed, and it does the same thing. If you wish to stay here, you obey my rules. I’ve managed to hide away from the creatures for three days. You get used to it, trust me.”

Dee added, “And stay out of sight. Minimal noise too. We can share what little food I have. Hopefully my husband Jack will arrive before we have to scavenge more.”

“Variants. They’re called Variants,” murmured Boss.

Dee turned and looked at Boss. “What?”

“That’s what the American on the radio was calling them. Variants.”

“You’ve got a radio?”

“Well, had, until they found me and my parents.”

Dee could see Boss didn’t want to discuss the events of the last few days, so she made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Variants? Variants of what?

Dee’s group settled into an uneasy routine. For ten days they tried their best to be silent at all times, especially during the night. The darkness brought nightmares of hellish proportions. The Variants scurried, popped, and shrieked continuously.

The ever-present fear of being discovered frayed everyone’s nerves. They took turns watching out of the ventilation grates in two hour shifts, being careful to always stay in the shadows.

Boss came up with the idea of dousing themselves in the seaweed solution, and Dee insisted that the human waste be buried and covered in garden lime. Minutes ticking by dragged into hours, and hours dragged into days.

And still no Jack.

With little else to do when not on watch, they played cards, read books from Jack and Dee’s stored collection, and tried to sleep. But, knowing what awaited them outside, real sleep was a forgotten luxury.

Boss and Dee became fast friends, finding a common ground in all things Monty Python. They would try and lighten their mood by writing quotes, each testing the other person’s knowledge.

Matt, Alice, and Aston all sat staring morosely, sometimes whispering to each other.

Vicki and Mike spent long hours just cuddling, only rising to do their shifts, eat, and use the primitive bathroom. They had barely said two words to anyone, the shock of the past few days showing.

We all deal with things in a different way, some better than others.

Dee knew they probably had only one more day of food left, at best. They had completely exhausted the supplies they’d managed to scrounge from the immediate neighbourhood. No one was willing to venture out any farther than they already had. A few close calls with the Variants had scared everyone. Now they had no choice. They would have to go out into the mess the Hemorrhage Virus had caused.

Looking up from the book she was reading, The Chrysalids, she nudged Boss with her foot. “Hey.”

Boss was surrounded by electronic bits and pieces. An old ham radio her Dad had given her was scattered around. Without looking up, he replied, “Yeah?”

“Any luck?” Dee whispered.

“Nope, it’s dead. An ex radio. Expired. No longer with us.” Boss was now grinning.

Playing along, Dee said, “It was all right when it left the shop.” She sighed. “But seriously, could you fix it?”

“Not without the right parts. Then, yeah, maybe.”

Dee leant forward in her chair, shuffling closer to Boss. The smell of the dusty radio parts evoked fond memories of her childhood, of watching her father patiently assemble the old ham radio, trying to get it to work. He had explained what he was doing to Dee, but it had all sounded the same to her. She’d just loved to hear his voice.

Blinking away the memory, she furrowed her eyebrows at Boss. “So, did your father teach you how to do that?”

Boss paused. Putting down the small screwdriver, he shifted his weight, stretching out a leg. “Yeah, well, sort of. He taught me how to use the radio. He loved to chat to people all around the country, and the world too, I suppose. I don’t know, really? He wasn't around much.”

Dee watched as Boss shuffled around, turning away from her. He leant back down and picked up some pieces of the radio. He glanced around the room, his blue eyes flickering to her.

Dee placed a hand on his shoulder. “Boss, what happened? To him, to your mum?”

Wetting his lips, Boss replied, “They happened, Dee. They!” He gestured wildly towards outside.

Dee patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry Boss. I shouldn’t have pried.”

Boss sighed, rubbing his hands through his hair. He stared at Dee. “Dad worked as an IT consultant, hardware stuff. He mainly worked for that big animal breeding place. It wasn’t long after the news broke, a couple of days, maybe, that Dad came home sick. I think he had a fever. He still insisted on going to work the next day, and then he never came back. As it got worse out there, Mum and I hid in the attic storage area. That’s where Dad’s radio was. So when it was quiet, I warmed her up and reached out.”

Dee rubbed the nape of her neck. “Is that when you talked to the American?”

“Yeah. It was difficult to hear him. He said something about Variants attacking them, and to hunker down.”

Tilting her head in the direction of the others, Dee asked, “What about them? How’d you end up together?”

Boss picked up a piece of the radio. It was shaped like a small light bulb. Dee watched as he peered through it. He put it down next to the others, and turned around to face her. His eyes glistened, and he blinked rapidly. “He came back, Dee. He came back.”

Her heart thumped against her chest, and nerves tingled down her arms, her blood running cold. She shivered. She hoped that what he was going to say next wasn’t what she was expecting. Why did I press him?

“After a few days, he came back. But he wasn’t Dad any more. He was one of them, Dee!” His voice caught on the last words, and tears welled up in his eyes.

“I ran, Dee. I ran, and left Mum to them.” Boss sniffed and wiped his eyes. Gesturing towards Matt and Alice, he added, “They helped me. We hid in their shed. The other two were already there. But they found us. Then we met you.” Boss sniffed again, and a smile escaped his lips.

Dee moved forward off her chair. She swept a few of the scattered parts away with her foot and crouched down, joining Boss on the floor. She drew him into a tight embrace. “I’m really glad you did, Boss. We’re going to survive this, okay?”

Boss tightened his arms around her, returning the hug. “Yeah. We better.”

She held on to him for a while longer, savouring the comfort.

Dee pondered how to approach the next subject, that of the drastically dwindling food supply. She knew the average male needed three thousand calories per day to survive, and they were all on a thousand at best. The time had come. Judgement day.

She broke the embrace with Boss and sat back up on her chair. Not for the first time, she wished her Dad was still alive. He’d always treated her with a love and affection that had sometimes bewildered her. She’d always known he’d really wanted a son. He’d taken her on several hunting trips, and shown her how to live off the land. Firing hunting rifles and shotguns, fishing, and camping had all been part of her life, growing up. Dee cursed her luck at the Hemorrhage Virus arriving when the guns he’d left her were being serviced. His death had hit her hard, and she’d foolishly let the guns sit in the basement gathering dust. After Jack had shown some interest in learning how to use them, she had taken them in for servicing. Now they were lost to her too.

What should they do? Move on and maybe get torn apart and eaten, or stay put and starve to death, and maybe get discovered and eaten? Where are you Jack? I need you now, more than ever.

Shifting her weight, Dee nudged Boss again. “Boss.”

“Yeah, what?”

“We need to talk to the others.”

Slightly perplexed, Boss now looked up from his task. “Why?”

“We need to figure out what we’re going to do, that's why.”

“Food?”

“Yes, food, and we need to move on. There are more and more Variants every day.”

Getting up off the floor so he could sit next to her, Boss gave Dee a quizzical look. “Have you noticed how you don’t see them in the middle of the day?”

Nodding, Dee murmured, “Yeah. I think that's our best chance to go. We need to find water, food, and weapons. Real weapons, like guns. Jack and I have this cabin up in the valley, isolated. I think we should head there.”

“What about a truck? Like a concrete truck?”

Smiling, Dee said, “We need to be practical, Boss. It’s not Fury Road.”

Stifling a laugh, Boss nodded his head.

Approaching Matt, Alice, and Aston, Dee waved at Vicki and Mike, trying to get their attention. Getting no response, she nudged Boss. “Go get those two.”

She listened as Boss talked to Mike. “Hey, looks like we’re having a pow wow.”

Mike turned his head away from the ventilation grate. Sighing heavily, he said, “Why?”

“Same old, same old. Food, guns. Lack thereof,” replied an annoyed Boss.

“All right, but what about the watch?”

“I’m just doing as Dee asked, sheesh.”

Grumbling and muttering, Mike went over to Vicki, and they joined the others.

At the small table, Dee had spread out an old map of the city, and next to it, one of the surrounding countryside.

Smirking, Boss said, “What museum did you raid?”

She gave Boss an over-the-glasses librarian look. She watched him sternly, clearly waiting for a cheeky response, but Boss just looked at his feet and kept silent. Dee looked back up and made eye contact with the others gathered round.

“So, we need to decide what to do. Do we continue scrounging through houses for food? Or do we make a run for it? Get somewhere more isolated? Fewer Variants?”

Pointing at the map, Dee pressed on. “If we stay, we just keep scavenging in ever-increasing circles, hoping for food. We could try for that food wholesalers. And we need guns desperately. Or, and this is what I vote for, we take my car and try to reach this valley. Jack and I have a cabin there.”

“Well, I vote to stay. Surely the Army are going to show up soon,” said Mike.

“What Army, dickhead?” replied Matt. “New Zealand doesn’t have an Army.”

“Yeah, we do!” Mike replied, his voice rising.

Cutting in, Alice said, “Guys! Seriously, shush!”

Nodding his head in agreement, Aston said, “Look, yes we do have an Army, yes it’s very small, but it’s there. Regardless, they’re not worried about rescuing us mere mortals. We’re on our own.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the others. Mike, begrudgingly, too.

Turning to Matt, Alice poked him. “We should tell them.”

“Tell us what?” asked Dee.

“Yeah, what?” mimicked Boss.

Matt, Alice, and Aston exchanged a look between them. Speaking up, Matt replied, “Look, we want to head off on our own, Alice’s family own a sheep station on one of the islands in the Gulf. We’re going to head there. Plus, I want to find my family.”

Piping up, Alice said, “Dee, we’re really grateful, truly, but I need to know. Know if they’re alive.”

“I can’t argue with that, Alice. I only have Jack. That’s why I want to go to the cabin.” She clasped Alice’s hand. “I really hope they are, Alice.”

The two women smiled at each other, hope, anguish, and worry for their loved ones written deep in their eyes.

“Well, that’s just bloody Dandy! Safety in numbers, anyone?” Mike slammed his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump.

Vicki glared at Mike. “Mike, shush, for Pete’s sake.”

Dee glared at him too. Days of putting up with his foul moods and impudence finally got the better of her. “Mike! All they want is to see their families. You want to deny them that?” Speaking through her teeth, Dee added, “Or is it the lack of an invite?”

Mike started gesturing madly, his face going red. He started to retort, but Vicki elbowed him in the ribs, effectively shushing him.

“We’re happy to go with you, Dee. Our families are both on South Island. Just until it blows over, then we’ll be on our way.” Vicki added, almost at a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

Still fuming at Mike, Dee decided to let it go for now. “Sure. All right then. Well, I don’t know about you lot, but I’ve had enough of this basement and its foul stench.” She looked at Boss, causing him to grin. She once again marveled at the teenager’s resilience. Seeing his grin gave her new motivation. “Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“You can take my neighbours car. I know where the keys are.”

Matt nodded. “That sounds perfect. Thank you.”

The group spent the next hour gathering what little food and water they had, dividing it up as evenly as they could. Dee gave them all spare clothes from some bags she had meant to take to the op shop ages ago. Gathering her Katana, Dee looked at Boss still trying to cram all the radio bits in a box.

“C’mon, they’ll be active again soon.”

“Yeah, I just don’t want to miss anything.”

“Okay. Meet us in the car. And be careful.”

Distracted, Boss nodded.

Matt was waiting at the basement door, and as Dee approached, he looked over at Aston peering through the grate. Given the all clear, Matt slid the bolt, and they stepped out into the sunlight.

Dee took in a deep breath, the fresh air filling her lungs. Glancing left and right, she gripped her Katana tightly. Seeing nothing, she walked on. Dread washed over her the closer she got to her elderly neighbour's house. The thought of seeing Faye’s mangled body frightened Dee, but she knew she had to do this. She wanted to survive, to see Jack again.

I didn't fight the darkness for it to end now.

Dee walked up to the smashed-in window, and quickly peered inside. On the floor was a thick, congealed blood stain, but no body. Where’s the body? Matt brushed against her as he peered inside.

Not wanting to speak for fear of attracting Variants, Dee using mime demonstrated that she wanted Matt to cup his hands together and give her a boost.

Grunting, Matt pushed her through the window and onto the kitchen bench. Dee did her best to stay out of the glass, but she felt a few pinpricks on her hands. Looking again to the spot where the body had lain, shivers travelled up her spine. Quickly moving on, she grabbed the keys off the hook near the pantry and let herself out the side door.

Signaling with a nod of her head, she indicated the garage to Matt, and handed him the keys.

Matt and Dee were struggling with the garage door as Aston and Alice joined them.

Whispering to Matt, Dee said, “Wait a few minutes. We’ll try to leave together.”

Matt nodded.

Alice grabbed Dee in a bear hug. “Thank you.”

Pushing Alice back slightly, Dee wiped a tear from her own eye. “You’re welcome. Good luck, and thanks for all the fish.”

Alice smiled distantly at Dee, not getting the reference. Embarrassed, Dee jumped over the fence. Crouching low, she made a dash for her car. Mike and Boss had raised the garage door in readiness. Easing the car out, she glanced around, looking for Variants. Gripping the steering wheel, she indicated right, and headed up the road, away from her sanctuary. Dee wondered if she was doing the right thing by leaving. Would Jack know to head to the cabin? She pushed her doubts aside and concentrated on driving everyone to safety.

Matt followed her to the end of the road. Turning south, Dee and her group waved them goodbye.

They made it across town without incident, weaving in and out of vehicles clogging the road. Everywhere they looked, they could see evidence of violent confrontations. Blood, broken glass. Dee saw one car with the doors peeled off like a tin of sardines.

What the hell did that?

Dee drove them to a hunting shop she knew, but they could see it had been looted.

She drove on, heading for one of the bridges crossing the river. As they drew near to it, she could see it was blocked. Vehicles were strewn everywhere, tangled in a bottleneck. Some were burnt out.

“We’ll have to try the next bridge down,” Dee said to no one in particular.

“They’ll all be the same,” Matt said sullenly.

Dee shook her head in annoyance. “We have to try, though.”

“What about Narrows Bridge, out by the airport?” asked Boss.

“Yeah, all right. Less traffic. Could be a winner,” agreed Dee.

Reversing the car, Dee looked in the rearview mirror, and mouthed Thank you to Boss.

The going was slow, as all the roads were nearly impassable. She had to backtrack several times and try different routes, but finally they made it out of Hamilton. Speeding up as much as she dared, Dee couldn’t help thinking that the Variants would be out on the hunt in another couple of hours. If the roads carry on like this, we’re going to have to find somewhere to hole up for the night.

Dee could see the the golf course up ahead, and knew the bridge was just around the corner. Slowing down, she crossed her fingers for some luck. Turning the corner, her heart sank. Just like the others, the bridge was clogged. Damn it!

Several cars were pressed against each other, much like a road block. Looking into the jumbled mess, she could see a small gap, perhaps just wide enough to squeeze the car through.

“What do you think, guys?”

“We could shunt them over a bit,” replied Mike. “Do you want me to drive?”

Anger at the implied insult flowed through her. “No! I’m fine!”

Dee inched the car forward, scraping it on both sides. The metallic screech making her clench her jaw.

Easy, easy does it.

Dee was alternating between both wing mirrors when Vicki and Mike screamed. Looking up, she saw a Variant perched on the roof of a car. Heart pounding, she grabbed the gear stick, jammed the car into reverse, and slammed the accelerator down, spinning the tyres.

With a horrifying screech, the Variant leapt onto the hood of her car. Several screeches answered its call. Dee swung the steering wheel hard from side to side, trying to remove the Variant, but it dug its claw-like digits into the hood.

One arm drew back and smashed through the windscreen, spearing a stunned Mike right through the skull. Vicki’s screams went up several octaves.

Boss pounded Dee’s shoulder. “Down there! Go right, through the golf course!”

She didn't have time to answer. Swinging the car hard right, it whipped back and went down the embankment. Rolling over once before righting, the wheels still spinning in the soft earth, Dee put it into drive and tore away from the screeching Variants.

The roll had crushed the Variant that had speared Mike. His lifeless body flopped around, then leaned onto Dee.

“Boss, get him off me,” she shouted.

Boss pushed Mike against the passenger door with his feet.

Tearing over the pristine greens, she looked around furiously for an escape route.

“Over there,” yelled Boss, pointing to a large motorboat moored at a pier. “Let’s see if these fuckers can swim!”

Dee turned in the direction he was pointing. Staring in the rearview mirror at the pursuing Variants, she wasn’t watching where she was going. The car roared as it left the grass, then plummeted into a sand trap, where it stuck fast. Dee slammed into the steering wheel, her breath whooshing out of her lungs. Grunting with pain, she looked back at the Variants, stunned at their speed and agility.

“Run! Everyone, run!” she yelled as she leapt from the car.

Dee stole a glance back, to check if Boss and Vicki were following.

Over the crest of the hill, several Variants were moving toward them, fast. She slowed, letting Boss pass her.

Reaching the boat, Boss scrambled to start the engine. “Get in,” he shouted. Then his eyes went wide. “Vicki! No!”

Dee looked back and saw Vicki at the end of the jetty, arms outstretched like Christ the Redeemer. Vicki turned her head back toward Dee, and looked into her eyes. And in that moment, Dee saw Vicki’s anguish over Mike’s death. She had given up. This was her sacrifice. Her heaven-entering deed. For them to survive. To live on.

She looked on in horror as the leading Variants slammed into Vicki, tearing and fighting over her flesh.

“Dee! Come on!” screamed a panicked Boss.

Scrambling and slipping on the jetty, she covered the last few metres and, with a swish of her Katana, cut the bowline and jumped in.

Boss gunned the engine and the boat surged out into the river.

A lone Variant bolted from the pack. With an awe-inspiring leap, it sailed through the air toward the fleeing survivors.

Dee turned and, with all the anger and frustration that had eaten away at her soul for the past fifteen days, cooped up in that stinking basement, she let out a screaming war cry, bringing her Katana up in a slashing arc.

The Variant twisted in mid air in an attempt to avoid the swinging steel, but Dee’s blow cut deep into its torso, nearly severing it in two. With a sickening thud, it landed quivering in a heap on the boat deck. Disgusted, Dee kicked it into the river.

“Ughhh. I hate these things.”

Boss stared at her. “You’re getting good with that.”

Dee shrugged her shoulders and looked to the river bank, where the other Variants had gathered in a pack, screeching. They were jumping up and down, but did not enter the water. She could see more on the bridge. Pointing south, Dee said, “Looks like we can only go that way, toward Cambridge.”

Boss nodded in agreement. “Yeah.”

Dee sat down in the seat next to Boss as he moved the boat into the current and away from the banks. Taking a moment to calm herself, she looked around the largish boat and saw that it was all kitted out for pleasure cruising. Huh? What people spend their money on. She shook her head.

Boss looked over at her, a frown creasing his forehead. “You know what, Dee?”

“What Boss?”

“You’re not what I was expecting.”

“Well, as they say, you have to expect the unexpected.”

“Who’s they?”

Even amongst all the horror they had witnessed over the past couple of weeks, Dee found herself smiling at Boss, shaking her head in amusement.

Onwards into the fray. Where are you Jack?

CHAPTER THREE

The primal screech echoed through the warm damp air, reverberating off the walls, and jolting Jack from his fitful sleep. He snapped his eyes open and looked left and right, heart hammering in panic. Trying to calm himself, he forced his breathing to slow. Listening for the cracking, popping sounds they made, Jack took note of his surroundings.

He was in a corridor, its floors and walls made of concrete. Twisting his head as far left and right as he could, the corridor seemed to go on forever in both directions. A constant humming buzzed in his ears. Surrounding him, other people were glued to the walls in the same way he was, behind a white cocoon or some such. No one moved, and given the stench of death, some appeared to be long dead. It reminded Jack of a science fiction film he had seen in his youth; the title escaped him. He remembered the victims being used as incubators.

Is that what I am? An incubator?

His fevered mind struggled to grasp what he was seeing. He had no idea how long he’d been down here. His throbbing head and intense hunger told him it was several days, at least.

Jack could feel the tube of his water bladder resting on his shoulder. Fleeting memories of the last few days returned, flashing in his mind's eye.

Struggling against his bonds; rubbing his wrist raw; water so tantalizingly close. Screeching. Clacking. Cutting. Thud…!

With all his remaining strength, he pushed his backside against the wall, relieving some of the pressure on his right arm, which was twisted around uncomfortably so the back of his hand touched the concrete wall, the membrane holding it fast. This time, he managed to wrench his left arm free. He grabbed the water valve and, twisting it towards his mouth, sucked on the tube, releasing the tepid but wonderful water into his mouth. Jack could feel it as it ran all the way down into his rumbling stomach. Gulping a few mouthfuls, he stopped himself from drinking too much. Making himself sick would alert the creatures.

His mind began to clear. Pushing his left arm back under the membrane, he felt along the waist belt of his hiking pack for the little pouch. Finding it, he unzipped it. Slowly, fearful of alerting the monsters, he removed one of his protein bars. Rabidly, he tore off the wrapper. Forgetting about the creatures for now, he fed his hunger. To survive, he had to eat.

With his appetite sated for now, and his thirst quenched, Jack took stock of his situation.

What is it that guy always said? There’s always a way out?

All right. I’m stuck to a wall. In some horror-filled nightmare. Surrounded by dead or dying people. Creatures from the seventh circle of hell want to eat me.

Great. Just great.

Typical.

Jack tore at the membrane holding his right arm fast against the wall, stopping every few seconds to listen for them. Hell, but the stuff was tough. Again and again he pulled on it. It was like trying to tear a plastic shopping bag at the handles: it stretched, but refused to break. With a final tug, he managed to free his right arm.

The stench of rotten fruit wafted down the corridor, alerting him to creatures approaching. Clenching all his muscles tight, he rammed his arms back into position and went stiff as a board. Prayed to anything.

The horrors scurried along the corridor, their joints popping as they moved. Heart pounding, Jack risked a peek through his semi-closed eyelids. Two had stopped a few meters away.

One of the creatures used its claw-like appendages to quickly saw through a membrane, and as he watched, a blonde-haired women dropped to the floor with a thud. Shock made him unable to look away. The other creature bent down, joints popping, and scooped her up with ease. The pair turned and scurried away. Jack was about to look away when a shadow to one side caught his attention.

A short, overweight man with a red trucker’s cap loomed into the light. He scratched his butt, and looked over toward Jack. Then spat on the floor next to a red-haired women. He reached up and groped her breasts.

Quite clearly, Jack heard him say, “Pity. This one’s pretty.”

Then he shuffled off after the creatures.

A man was walking around in this place of horrors, unscathed? Jack’s foggy mind struggled to comprehend it. He inhaled to call out for help, but some innate sense stopped him. Instead, Jack just stared as the man walked away down the corridor. The whole thing felt wrong to Jack. Very, very wrong. He needed answers. Wanted answers. Where am I? How long have I been here? What is this place? Why is that creep walking around when the rest of us are stuck to the walls?

With renewed determination, Jack redoubled his efforts to get free. He wanted to see Dee again. To see those beautiful, smiling eyes. To feel her reassuring touch. He needed her. When Dee was around, everything seemed right. I have to survive this. We have to survive this.

He wondered what was happening to her. She must surely be really worried about him by now.

With both arms now free, he started working on liberating his legs. Pulling and tearing, even biting when he could. But the membrane tasted foul, so he gave that idea up quite quickly.

Once he got one leg free, he was able to twist his body and, with one last shove, wrenched the rest of his body free. He landed on the floor with a thud. Cringing, he glanced down the corridor in the direction the creatures had gone, followed by the red cap-wearing man. Seeing nothing, and more importantly, hearing nothing, he gingerly got to his feet. As soon as he put weight on his right leg, he winced in pain. He quickly adjusted his weight off the leg. A bloodstained bandage was wrapped around his leg. Removing the bandage, Jack found a gash that ran twenty centimeters up his thigh from his knee, cutting deep into the skin. Congealed blood had crusted around the wound, but plasma was beginning to seep thanks to his recent activity. As quietly as he could, he removed his pack and opened the bottom compartment, pulling out the outdoorman’s best friend, a roll of duct tape. Tearing off a segment, he closed the wound as best he could, then wrapped the bandage back around his leg. Adjusting his pack on his back, Jack then crept toward the humming.

As he slowly made his way down the corridor, warm air flowed over him. Treading carefully down the centre of the corridor, he kept his focus straight ahead. He dared not look to either side, at the other victims strung up like slaughtered cattle. Waiting to be butchered and fed on.

Is this what animals think of us?

Jack didn’t want to put any faces into his memory, traumatised as it was. What if he saw someone he knew? Could he deal with that? What if he saw Dee? This last thought made him pause and crouch down. Forcing himself to breath slow and deep, Jack looked farther down the corridor. About halfway down was a door with a big red sign on it, but the text remained unintelligible. With something to focus on, he was about to rise when something moved at the edge of his vision. Half stumbling, he fell back on his arse. Staring into his eyes was a young, red-haired boy, his ice blue eyes piercing. Jack knew him, and as he stared back, his tired, traumatised mind cleared.

Shivering in the river, half floating, half swimming, Jack could see the creatures on the banks. There seemed to be packs of them. Never entering the water. They weren’t afraid, just unsure…

Following him, they gathered into larger packs. Screeching. Howling. Spitting.

Occasionally their heads would lift, sniffing the air, and they would tear off with excited howls, gone for a time. Jack enjoyed these interludes. He didn't feel so on edge, waiting for one of them to pluck up the courage and dive in for him. But they returned… always. And in greater numbers.

He laughed to himself; they were like the sandpeople! If Dee was here, she would be telling Jack to be serious, but this was his superpower. His coping mechanism. Always finding the silly side of something, or finding a movie or TV reference in anything. He had once been on the wrong side of an armed robbery and had had a gun pointed at his head. This was how he’d got through the trauma; well, the Valium was nice too…

The sun came up, the sunlight turning the sky from red and orange to pink, to blue. The nightmare creatures slowly left the riverbank, and by late morning Jack couldn’t see any. Not wanting to risk it, he stayed in the water for another hour. As he came around a bend in the river, he saw a house he recognised thanks to its unique architecture. Swimming ashore, Jack clambered out, then sat for a while on the riverbank, enjoying the warmth of the sun. At length he field dressed his wound, then made for the house, hoping for food.

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?”

CHAPTER FOUR

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.

Dee and Boss kept to the tree line. Creeping along, they tracked inland, making for one of the houses. It was a single story brick home, with a large deck extending from the back. A couple of large sheds lay adjacent. Keeping to the shadows of the trees, Dee and Boss cautiously came up one side. They stopped a few meters from the back door. Heart pounding in her chest, Dee gripped the Katana for comfort. She looked for any signs of the occupants, or Variants. Glancing left and right, she came up clear. Not a sound came from the house.

Crouching down, she nudged Boss. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know?” Boss replied, shrugging.

Dee forced herself to remain calm. She wasn’t use to dealing with a teenager’s attitude. She let out a breath. “Boss, I’m sorry you didn’t get any sleep last night, all right? But right now, we need to focus on getting some food, and hopefully a gun or two. Something to better fight the Variants with. So let’s just do this, then get back to the boat. You can get some sleep then, okay?”

“Okay, sure, cool, whatever. But we need petrol too.”

Dee waited for Boss to add anything else. When he didn’t, she rose up and headed for the back door.

As Dee approached the door, she could see it was ajar. Frowning, her heart skipped a beat. She peered into the house through the gap. No movement. No telltale rotten fruit smell. Looking back at Boss, she raised a finger to her lips.

Dee pushed the door open with the tip of her Katana. Inside, she could see the kitchen. Drawers had been pulled out, cupboards opened and emptied. Ransacked. It looked like the only food left was dried pasta and rice.

Dee and Boss slowly made their way through the kitchen and into the living area of the house. Arriving at the bedrooms, she could see that whoever had lived here had made a hasty retreat. Unpacked clothes lay on the beds, along with personal items too big to fit in suitcases. Damn! I wonder if they have any guns?

Boss moved to the wardrobes, rummaging through them. “Hey, Dee, these would be handy.” He held out two fleece zip up jackets.

“Definitely, nice find. Keep looking. I’m going to hunt for food, okay?”

“Yeah, all right. What else should we grab?”

“See if you can find a couple of backpacks.”

“All right, sure.”

Dee headed into the other rooms, searching. Coming up empty handed, she went back to Boss searching around in the master bedroom.

“Find anything else?”

Boss turned around, still holding the jackets in one hand. “Nah.”

Dee ran her hands through her hair and sighed. “All right. Let's try that other house we saw. I think we should hurry, though.”

“We should grab that rice and pasta, at least,” Boss murmured. “And what about guns?”

“I figure the family living here took them when they cleared out,” replied Dee.

“Yeah, but we should at least check the garage. Or those sheds.”

Nodding, she agreed. Dee and Boss retraced their steps, collecting the dried food on their way out, and made their way to the sheds.

The sheds had open fronts, typical for New Zealand farm machinery sheds. Walking up to them, she could see a couple of big farm machines taking up most of the space. Boss pointed to a metal cabinet in the far corner. “What about in there?”

Dee looked toward where Boss was pointing. “Yes! That’s what we want.”

Hurrying over, deep gouges and scratches on the doors became visible. Damn it! Someone had beat them to it again. She was frustrated. And hungry. All she wanted was to find Jack, and get to the cabin. When he hadn’t shown up back at the house for over ten days, she had assumed the worst. Only determination and her love for Jack kept her going. Fear of the Variants tore at her soul. Shredded nerves, little sleep, no shower. Dee could feel the weight falling off her from the lack of calories.

Smiling to herself, she clenched and unclenched her fists. I suppose the apocalypse is good for something.

Turning around to talk to Boss, she faced a new horror. A shotgun, pointing straight at her. Another was at Boss’s head. Two tall, overweight men held them. Dee looked down the barrel and into the hard brown eyes of her captor, who was grinning at her, showing missing front teeth.

He swiped one hand through his messy, sweaty brown hair. “Hello, sweetcheeks. You looking for these?” He waggled the gun slightly.

Dee glared back at him. “Yeah, we were, actually. Want to give them to us?”

Missing Teeth pulled his head back, laughing. “You're funny. And cute too. This is going to be fun.” He gestured toward a wooden pallet with the gun. “Go sit over there. If you seem like you’re enjoying it, I’ll put a good word in with the monsters.”

The reality of the situation dawned on her. Rape. Even at the end of the bloody world, these bastards just wanted to get their leg over! Typical.

Trying her best to pacify the situation, she looked directly at Missing Teeth. Holding out her hands, palms facing down, she said, “Guys, c’mon please. It should be us against the Variants. Not this!”

“Variants?”

“Yes, Variants. The Americans call them Variants.”

Missing Teeth glared at her. He had an angry scowl on his face. Dee thought she saw a hint of confusion flit across his eyes before he spat on the floor. “Look, sweetcheeks, I don’t give a toss what some Yankee Doodle Dandy called them. Simon and I are going to have a little fun with you. SO MOVE YOUR ARSE, NOW!”

Missing Teeth grabbed Dee by her shirt front and hauled her to her feet. Dee started screaming as loud as she could. Struggling against the man’s grip, she kicked out at his shins.

“It’ll do you no good. It’s just us. Soon you’ll be with our monster friends. So kick and scream all you want.”

Boss started struggling with Simon, trying to wrestle the gun away from him, but Simon was too strong, too quick. Simon leant back and swung the gun stock, connecting with Boss’s head in a savage blow. Boss hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Dee watched him thud to the ground. “He’s just a kid, you bastards!” she screamed at the men.

Missing Teeth and Simon just laughed as they dragged her over to a wooden pallet covered with wool sacks. Then both of them started whooping and hollering like a couple of boozed-up teenagers.

Dee fought with everything she had. There was no way they were going to take her. She had fought off guys before. In a flash, a memory flitted through her mind. She blamed the rape culture for the way men thought they were entitled to act.

A water-filled quarry. Dee and her friends were enjoying the last of the summer before university. A few drinks in the sun. She fell asleep under a tree while her friends swam out to the rock in the middle of the lake.

Dee woke to a rough, callused hand over her mouth and hands grabbing roughly at her. She struggled and fought like a trapped cat. Finally, she connected with a well-timed knee to the groin. The man tumbled off her, clutching his balls. He rolled around on the ground, cursing at her. A red mist descended over her. She picked up a nearby rock and smashed the man in the head. Again and again and again. Another man Dee hadn’t seen tackled her, knocking her to the ground and out of her rage. Seeing her friends running up from the lake shore, the second man ran off. Dee looked down at the rock she still held. She could see blood and grey brain matter, and tiny fragments of skull. She promptly doubled over and vomited.

The police arrived and took Dee away in an ambulance. Later they arrested her for manslaughter.

A lengthy emotional and soul-destroying trial ensued. It exposed Dee to a very corrupt and male-favoured system. Psychiatric evaluations deemed her fit for trial, but thankfully she was found not guilty by means of self-defence. The media called her the mouse that roared. The rapist's family yelled daily abuse at her. After, she withdrew from society, finding comfort in books. In movies. In gaming. Where people are essentially anonymous.

It took meeting a special guy to bring her out of her shell. To live life on the outside again.

Dee would always remember the stench of his breath. A mixture of cheap bourbon and cannabis.

Remembering this, Dee renewed her efforts. Struggling. Scratching. Kicking. She managed to bite Missing Teeth’s hand.

He just grinned at her. “Hmmm… I like it went they fight.” To Simon, he said, “Hold the bitch's legs down.”

Simon grabbed both her flailing legs in a vice-like grip. Together, the men managed to wrestle her onto the pallet.

Dee looked up into Missing Teeth’s eyes, silently pleading with him. Searching for some decency.

She didn’t even hear the first gunshot. As she watched, Missing Teeth’s head exploded, brains and skull splattering all over her. His body slumped, pinning her legs.

She heard the next couple of shots and saw Simon look down at the gaping holes in his chest. His lifeless body toppled over. She pushed Missing Teeth’s body off and scrambled up, then looked down at his nearly headless body. Anger boiled up, and she spat on him. Asshole.

“You all right?”

Dee spun toward the source of the voice. A stocky, muscular man with a long wizard beard and white hair approached her. He was dressed in green cargo pants, a green shirt, and one of those vests Dee had seen special ops men wear in movies.

“You all right?” he asked again.

Dee shook her head. Too many things were happening at once today. “Y…Yeah, I think so.” Then she remembered Boss. “Boss?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Boss. Sorry, I mean the kid?” Locating him, she pointed at Boss.

“He’ll be fine. He took a nasty blow to the head, though.”

Finding her manners, Dee held out her hand. “I’m Dee. The kid, we, well… I call him Boss. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m Ben. Ben Johns.” The man looked around, eyes alert. “I don’t mean to rush you, but we need to move, I don’t know how many of those creatures have been alerted by the gunshots. Let’s grab the kid and go.”

“We’ve got a boat tied up down at the river. The Variants won’t come in the water.”

“Variants? You call them Variants too, huh?” A bemused look crossed Ben’s face.

“Umm, yeah, ah. Boss had an old ham radio going, and he talked to some Americans. They called them Variants.”

“Oh, right. Well, the Variants, they are smart bastards, and fast. Why don’t you come back to my bunker. I’ve got food, water, and medical supplies. It’s held them out for now.”

She searched Ben’s eyes, and found honesty and kindness. She nodded, more to herself than to him. “All right, thank you.”

Ben and Dee grabbed an arm each and hauled Boss to his feet. He was coming to, but was still quite groggy. Ben led them to a 4x4 parked next to a red ute. They pushed Boss onto the back seat, lying him down. Dee grabbed one of the fleece jackets they had found, and placed it under his head.

Pulling out of the farm driveway onto the tarmac-sealed road, Ben pointed the 4x4 east and picked up speed.

“Here, use these to clean some of that muck off you.” Ben handed Dee some tissues.

“Thanks.”

“I’m not far. About fifteen minutes.”

She nodded. She couldn’t figure it out. Why had Ben been there? She was more than grateful, of course. She looked down at the rifle sitting between them. It was black, but had a long, fat, extended barrel. It looked military. Not like the ones her Dad used to use. Ben looked and acted like military. With shooting like that, and the calm way he acted, she guessed he was ex-army.

“So… look, thanks for saving us back there.”

Ben glanced over and smiled, stroked his long bushy beard. “You’re welcome. I couldn't stand by and let them do that. It’s not right. Even in these terrifying times, there are rules. Moral rules.”

Dee could see by the expression on the old man’s face that he was telling the truth. She decided she liked him already. Plus, he seemed really handy with a rifle. If she wanted any chance of finding Jack, she needed Ben. His expertise.

Till now she’d been extremely lucky, but luck will only get you so far. She knew she reacted well under pressure. A calmness would come over her, as if time slowed down and she saw the way out. More than anything, she wanted to survive this. She wanted Jack back. To take them all to the valley, to start afresh.

Cleaning the last of Missing Teeth’s skull off, she turned. “Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m curious. How did you know we were there?”

“I didn’t. But I knew they were. I’d been tracking their movements for a few days.”

Dee looked at Ben, startled. Tracking them? For a few days? Why? She opened her mouth to ask, but Ben slowed the 4x4 down and turned into a tree-lined driveway, magnolia trees creating an avenue.

“We’re here,” he announced.

Dee looked down the drive and could see it curving up behind a small hill. As the 4x4 got closer to the hill, a house nestled into the leeward side came into view. It looked as though the walls were made of earth, and she could barely make out the roof line. Wildflowers covered it.

Ben pulled up around the back, next to a large utility shed. This too blended into the surrounding countryside.

Ben and Dee half-dragged a semi-conscious Boss out of the 4x4. Ben indicated with a tilt of his head toward a side door. Entering the house, it struck Dee how warm and dry it was. And with the door closed behind them, the silence was complete.

Jack would love this house. It looked like a safe room, and went back a good ten meters or so.

Ben guided her and Boss past some shelves toward a couple of bunks in the back left-hand corner of the room. Dee struggled with the deadweight of Boss. Pain shot up her arms, and the muscles of her lower back started to cramp. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, watching the smooth concrete floor as sweat dripped off her forehead from the exertion. Once there, they gently laid Boss down.

“First aid and medical supplies are in here.” Ben pointed to a large medical cabinet on the wall. “I’m heading outside to lock up and set the sensors.”

“Thanks Ben.” Thinking quickly, she added, “Oh hey, do you have any fertiliser? We used to use it to mask our scent.”

Ben picked up a large twenty-litre container, grinning. His sharp eyes appraised her. “Not just a pretty face, are you? I use this. Industrial grade disinfectant. I’ll be back.”

Dee watched him go. Normally, she would be offended by such a remark, but Ben was an up-front guy. A spade was a spade. She busied herself cleaning out the wound on Boss’s head.

Boss tried to get up, tried to speak. Dee helped him swallow a couple of painkillers, then pushed him back down. “Sleep, Boss.”

She heard Ben come back into the room, and the huge steel door shut with a clunk. Dee got up and walked over to him, watched as he slid thick bolts across the door, locking them in. Turning, she took in her new surroundings. Dee was impressed to see block walls all around. The concrete floor she had already noted. To the left and right were shelves filled with food, water, and plastic containers. Three shelves on each side, making six total, with a gap in the middle forming a corridor reminiscent of a supermarket. She couldn’t quite see the back of the room through the shelves. Turning to her left, she saw a rack, behind a cage door, filled with guns. She recognised a couple of shotguns, and a few more of those same rifles Ben carried with him. A row of handguns and boxes of ammunition were stacked on more shelves.

Dee let out a whistle. “That’s a lot of guns. I feel like I’m in the Matrix.”

Ben just grunted in response. Then walked with her towards Boss. “How’s he doing?”

“Just concussed, I think. I gave him some painkillers so he’ll sleep it off.”

“Good. I’m glad. Poor kid. He took a real knock to the head. If you want, I’ll show you around my humble abode.”

Dee nodded, only too glad for a distraction. Ben led her away from the sleeping Boss.

“Now, it’s no bomb shelter, but it’s kept those Variants out so far. They’re getting bolder each day.”

Dee followed him to the back right-hand corner, where two rooms were separated from the rest of the structure.

As Ben opened one door, he pointed to the other. “Bathroom with chemical toilet in there.” He nodded toward the opened room. “In here is where the fun happens. This is the war room.” He gestured for Dee to enter.

Dee gasped. A desk with four monitors and a keyboard lined the back wall. Two of the monitors were on, and she could see camera feeds from outside. A stack of radio equipment lay on the table on the right-hand side, static hissing from the attached speakers. A large table covered in maps was set against the other wall. Dee could see Ben had been marking red Xs through the surrounding small towns, and the city of Cambridge was scribbled out.

“Wow, you're organised. But how are you getting power to run all this?”

“Solar. I’ve got a bank of them down the hill a bit. It’s enough to keep this going, just. Also gives me a little hot water.”

Dee went over to the map. “I suppose this means no survivors?” She pointed at the red Xs.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Dee traced the river north from Cambridge up to Hamilton. A big red X was drawn through it.

How had her basement group gone undetected? Not only from the Variants, but from the collaborators too.

She looked at all the surrounding towns. Te Awamutu, Morrinsville, Huntly. All had red Xs through them. Dee rubbed her eyebrows and reached down to her neckline, desperate to feel the reassurance of the necklace Jack had given to her as an anniversary present.

So many red Xs. It started to really sink in just how fortunate she and Boss had been.

Was it luck? Common sense? A bit of both? The Hemorrhage Virus had hit so fast, so furiously, that it had caught everyone but a few by surprise. She and Jack loved post-apocalyptic fiction. The more they read, the more they’d thought: What if? What if something did happen?

They’d thought they were prepared for it. But fate was a funny thing. They’d never taken into account where they would be when it hit.

Now Jack was God knows where, and Dee was here. In a bunker. Safe. For now.

Ben took Dee back to the main living area, to all the shelving units stacked with supplies. Pointing to each row in turn, he said, “Food. Clothes. Survival gear, like tents, etc. Batteries, that sort of thing. I don’t have any women’s clothes, I’m afraid, but you’re welcome to try and find something to fit. Feel free to have a shower too, but please, five minutes only. Very limited water supply.”

“Thank you very much, Ben.” Dee’s eyes filled with tears. “For your kindness, and for…” she gulped, unable to voice her thanks further, and waved her hands.

She could see Ben understood, his eyes growing soft. “You’re welcome.”

Dee nodded, then started to select the smallest clothes she could find. Though little may fit her, she just wanted fresh clothes. She could still smell the stench of Missing Teeth on her. Shuddering in disgust, Dee headed to the shower.

CHAPTER FIVE

The cool night air caressed Jack’s skin, causing goosebumps to form. He leant his head back against the wall and looked down at the sleeping George. Smiling, Jack was amazed at how well the kid had adapted to this new hidey hole. They had hidden here since escaping, and had eaten half of the supplies from his pack. George had been resistant to the protein bar and beef jerky, but had devoured the chocolate.

Through the tiny window, Jack could see the moon. It was showing its half face. He estimated he had been down in this pit of hell for eleven to twelve days. How had he survived with no water or food? For that matter, how had George? He was so small… so young, at only eight years old. So much for the rule of three, then.

Three weeks without food. Three days without water… Blah blah blah…

But with the food, he could feel some life coming back into his body.

He needed a plan. To escape. As a teenager, he’d been fascinated by WWII escape stories. Reading the small town library out. The daring. The ingenuity. Both were incredible.

Gazing out the window, he could see his stars. His pinpricks of light. Millions of light years away.

There is always a way out of any situation.

All right, so we’re in the Hydro Dam. Surrounded by monsters that want to eat us. A man is helping them. I’ve got probably two days’ food at best. George’s mum, Sarah, is missing. Dee is God knows where. It’s dark, and I don’t even have any sunglasses on.

He couldn’t help but grin at his movie reference. He couldn’t even think of moving until at least midday, so he shifted his weight and leant back, closing his eyes. Nothing to be done till then.

Eat when you can. Sleep when you can. Be ready.

Jack woke to the sun shining in his eyes and George poking him in the arm.

“Mister. I really need to pee.”

Jack rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Ummm, okay buddy. Can you hold on a bit longer?”

George started squirming, a panicked look on his face.

Jack placed his hands on George’s shoulders, and looked the boy straight in the eyes. “George, I’m going to have to check if the coast is clear, all right?”

George nodded.

Jack jumped up on top of the lockers and searched the room. Seeing nothing, he reached down and lifted George up next to him. Pivoting, he dropped George down to the floor. Pointing to the wash basin in the corner, Jack said, “Sorry buddy, it’ll have to be in there.”

Checking his watch, he decided to risk some exploration. He guessed the room they were in was a couple of levels down. He didn’t know the layout of the dam wall, but he trusted his instincts not to go down any deeper. He decided to stick to this level, for now.

George finished, and wandered back over to the lockers. Jumping down, Jack grabbed George’s hand. Then he crouched down so he could look him in the eyes again. “We’re going to go find your Mum, okay. But we have to be super silent. We don’t want to wake the monsters, do we?”

George twisted his fingers nervously, intertwining them in a wringing motion. He murmured back, “Nope.”

“Good. If they find us, you run, okay? You run in here and hide.”

He continued to stare at George, waiting to see if the kid understood. The kid’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated. The sight broke his heart. The poor kid, having to live through this. He should be out playing. Running around. Gaming. Kid stuff.

Jack shook his head in anger. Anger at those responsible for ruining the kid’s innocence. He embraced the anger. It gave him new energy.

They moved over to the door of the room. Placing his ear to the door, he listened for any sounds. He could smell that faint rotten fruit smell. It amazed him how it smothered even the stench of death, Jack cracked open the door and looked into the corridor. Seeing it was clear, he took George’s hand and placed it around the waist belt of his pack. Whispering, he said, “You hang on to this. Don’t let go. Unless I tell you to run.”

Not wanting to head back the way they had originally come, Jack headed in the opposite direction. Several other doors lined the corridor, and a large green door stood at the end. More people were glued to the walls here, their faces oddly calm and serene as if in some sort of coma. He tried not to linger on their faces too long.

“Don’t look, George. Look down.” Jack said, as he searched the people for blonde hair.

He felt George’s grip tighten on the belt.

Tears pricked his eyes, a long-buried pain bubbling to the forefront of his mind. Jack had thought he had buried that particular memory deep, away, forgotten. He had avoided having his own children, limited his time with other people’s kids. All to avoid the pain.

Jack loved his little brother, even though there was a ten-year gap. He was so full of life and curiosity. Jack read to him every night, played games, built forts.

As his brother grew, he introduced him to films, comics, and the wonders of creativity and the imagination.

Before the fateful trip to the snow.

Jack took his brother sledding. With each run, he squealed louder and louder.

“Higher Jik Jik, higher!” he pleaded.

Caught up in his brother’s delight, Jack relented. Took him to the very top of the steep hill.

Down they flew, getting faster and faster, the cold wind stinging their faces.

A fallen tree branch poking from the snow caught Jack’s trailing foot, throwing him off.

The sled turned sharply. His brother slammed into the trees lining the hill.

Racing up, he found his loving little brother crumpled to one side, blood streaming down over his face, his little head crushed.

Jack cradled him and screamed until he was hoarse. That was how the paramedics found him.

They took his little brother away.

He never saw him again. The funeral directors advised Jack’s mum to have a closed coffin.

Once an outgoing sixteen-year-old, Jack retreated within himself. Shutting away the world, he found solace and comfort in his books, his comics, his movies.

His mum sent him to see a psychiatrist. He went, but begrudgingly. How could a stranger know his pain? Know his shame? Know his failing? His little brother was dead because of his error of judgement. His little brother was ashes in the wind because Jack’d been trying to impress his brother with his bravery.

But time heals all to a point, eventually. The psychiatrist helped Jack realise that it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t put the branch there. To think more on the times he shared with his brother, the love, the laughter, the joy they’d brought to each other.

So Jack buried the guilt and pain deep down. Never forgetting the memory of his little brother, he learnt to live with it.

I’m sorry, Georgey. I’ll save this one…

Wiping away the tears that had formed, Jack stopped at the first door and listened. Not hearing a sound, he tried the handle. Locked. Cursing silently, he quickly moved on to the next one. After several locked doors, he found an unlocked one. Opening it, Jack saw it was a maintenance room. A workbench lined one wall, with a peg board above filled with tools.

He couldn’t hold back the exclamation that escape his lips. Finally, a little luck. Grabbing some screwdrivers and a hammer, he jammed them into his belt. If those things attack, at least I can go down fighting, give the kid a chance to run.

“What’s this, Mister Jack?”

Jack looked down at George, who had crawled under the bench. He was holding out a rusty old machete, its wooden handle so cracked and pitted that someone had wrapped red electrical tape around it.

“That is a very dangerous weapon,” Jack said, gently taking the machete out of the child’s hands.

“But I want something to fight the monsters,” George moaned.

Jack crouched down. “Okay, George, but let’s find you something more suitable.”

Jack searched the work area and found a tool belt. He placed it around George’s waist, adjusting the strap as small as it could go. Then he populated it with chisels, screwdrivers, and a small ball pein hammer.

“If they come, you stab and hit them as hard as you can, all right?” Jack demonstrated the motions.

George beamed up at him as he nodded his head.

He knew the tools wouldn’t do much good against those creatures; they were so damn fast, so ferocious. For that matter, he didn’t know how long either of them would last. But a little hope and something to live for goes a long way.

“C’mon kid, I don’t know about you, but I want to get out of here.”

“Mummy?”

“Yeah, we’ll keep looking. Remember, super silent. If they come, run back to the red door and hide, okay?”

George pulled out his little hammer and, holding it up to him, said, “But I am Thor.”

In spite of all the the horror, the fear scratching at him, Jack smiled at George. The kid’s resilience was incredible. He just wanted to find his mum.

As they approached the green door at the end of the corridor, the stench of rotting fruit became overpowering. Jack’s hand was shaking with fear as he reached out and opened the door. Peering through the gap, he saw a sight that even the best horror writer’s minds would struggle to imagine. Not wanting George to see, he spun the kid around. Standing in front of him, he blocked the child’s view.

Beyond the door, steel stairs descended into a cavernous area. Piles of bones, some with bits of tissue and sinews still attached, lay stacked in corners. Bits of people were strewn about, some half eaten. He could see torsos, arms, and legs. Bones sticking out. One of the monsters was lying on top of a pile of intestines covered in blood and plasma. Lining the walls of the room, severed heads in varying states of decay had been placed on spikes made of bones.

In the deepest shadows of the room, Jack could see sleeping creatures. Some smaller creatures were nestled against some of the larger ones for warmth.

Jack paused, shocked. Were they breeding? Already?

He could see a particularly large stack of bones in the centre of the room. A throne of bones, reminiscent of one Jack had once seen in a catacomb in Europe.

The large mass moved. It was a massive creature, and plated bones protruded from its shoulders, forming spikes. A severed child’s head had been placed atop each spike, much like some sort of grisly trophies. Fighting the bile rising up his throat, Jack turned away, his mind reeling. He had seen this creature before. When they were captured. It hadn’t had the heads then. The creature led, gave out orders.

Jack stumbled back, pushing George farther into the corridor. His eyes wandered lower. At the big creature’s feet, blonde hair flowed over a woman’s half-eaten body.

No! Sarah…!

Jack remembered that, in a moment of clarity when he was drifting in and out of consciousness while trapped on the wall, he had seen Sarah being taken. Taken for slaughter. All her past, present, and possible futures snuffed out in an instant. In the end, she had become these monsters’ sustenance.

George started screaming. Jack spun. The boy was standing in the doorway, looking directly at his mother’s remains.

As one, the creatures’ heads swivelled around to face the door. Terrifying screeches echoed around the cavernous room. With stunning speed and agility, they leapt from the floor.

Jack pulled George away and slammed the door. Jamming one of his hammers through the handle, he hoped it would stop them for a moment, enough time to get away.

Grabbing the still-screaming George by his hand, he sprinted up the corridor, back toward the room they had sheltered in.

Behind them, wood and concrete splintered with a crash. Turning, Jack saw the monsters piling into the corridor, screeching and howling, saliva dripping from their sucker mouths. Muscles rippled beneath semi-translucent skin. They spotted Jack and George, and howled as they bounded toward them.

George reached the red door first, and was pulling it open when the next door down opened. The man with the red trucker’s cap appeared, a stunned look on his face as he took in the unfolding chaos. Jack barreled into him, taking him to the ground. The man bucked beneath him, shifting his weight in an attempt to throw Jack off. His hands flailed, desperate to get a hold on Jack. Jack saw an opening and, without hesitation, rammed a screwdriver up under the man’s chin, burying it deep into his brain. The man’s eyes went wide with disbelief as Jack watched the life blink out.

Groping traitor bastard!

A creature leapt off the wall at Jack, claws extended. Jack twisted and threw himself through the door. But too slow. The creature raked its claws down Jack’s leg, tearing into his flesh. Screaming in pain, Jack stabbed down with the screwdriver, plunging it through the weird translucent skin into its flesh, and into Jack’s leg just above the knee. Gritting his teeth, Jack kicked out with his free leg, smashing into the creature’s head. The monster howled in anger, clawed limbs scratching Jack’s torso. George, leaning over Jack, started whacking the monster on the head with his little hammer. The monster momentarily let Jack go, to deal with this new annoyance, giving him the chance to kick out again. Freeing himself, Jack grabbed George, slammed the door closed, and locked the handle.

Immediately, the creatures started throwing themselves at the door.

Throom, throom, throom. The sound of the creatures hitting the door reverberated around the small room.

Ignoring the agony lancing up his body, Jack pulled himself to his feet. He knew the flimsy door and lock wouldn’t hold the monsters out for long. Hobbling over to the metal lockers next to the door, he tried to tip them over.

“George, help me push!” he yelled.

The little red-haired blessing pushed against the metal side, and with their joint effort it crashed across the doorway.

“And this one too.”

A second locker joined the first.

Exhausted from the fight, and the effort of moving the lockers, Jack gasped for breath. Blood continued to pour out of his wounds, and he was beginning to feel lightheaded. He knew he needed to stop the bleeding, at least temporarily. Sitting down with his back against the far wall, Jack taped up his wounds with the last of his duct tape. He could see they were deep. God knows what bacteria and germs those things have on their claws. Will I become one of them?

The creatures continued the slam against the door. Jack could hear tearing sounds. They were beginning to tear the plasterboard walls surrounding the door.

Frantically, Jack looked around for an escape route. The small window was out; Jack had already tried it the day before. Welded shut, for some reason. The glass was reinforced with wire mesh.

They were trapped in a room with horrifying creatures attacking them, and with no way out. The same as in Aliens… Aliens! Suddenly, Jack had the answer. The ceiling! He looked at it. It was a false hanging ceiling, made with cheap plaster tiles that could be individually moved.

Thanking his movie obsessions, and his knowledge of building materials, Jack grabbed George under his arms and hoisted him on top of the lockers. Jumping up, Jack pushed a tile up and to one side. He poked his head through. He could see right across the rooms, and dividing the rooms were solid concrete walls with enough room to walk on.

Throom. Throom. Throom.

“C’mon, George.” He grabbed the child and lifted him through into the ceiling cavity. “See that concrete bit? Run along to the end. Go! Now!”

Screeching, and then a huge rip, sounded from below as the monsters tore through the wall and into the room. Jack’s heart leaped into his throat. With one final look below, he replaced the tile, then turned to follow George, blood dripping off his boot and onto the ceiling tiles.

A monster smashed through the ceiling behind. If they hadn’t been so dangerous, he’d have laughed as it got all tangled in the metal struts and wires. A red mist descended over Jack’s vision. Pulling the rusty, red-handled machete from his belt, he lashed out at the nightmare's head, slicing into its neck and on, down through muscle and tissue. Black, gunky blood gushed over his hands. The machete stuck fast, lodged on the spinal column.

He pushed against the monster’s chest, yanking the blade out.

Another one smashed its way through the ceiling.

Oh, you want some too!

He swung out with the machete, taking a big hunk of its face off.

“Jack! Jack!” George screamed at him. More creatures started slamming through the ceiling.

“Run! I’m coming,” yelled Jack. Taking a last swipe at the nearest creature, Jack half ran, half hobbled after George.

There! He could see sunlight streaming through a maintenance tunnel. He lifted George up, and pushed him into it.

This red-haired kid, his chance at redemption.

Jack pushed himself through the tunnel, pain beginning to take its toll. Gritting his teeth with determination, he fought through it. He wanted to find Dee so bad, to hold her again. Feel her soul. Now he had a new George to love, to look after.

Dee would love him.

With the warmth of the sun on his battered body, Jack inhaled his first clean air in days, revelling in the scents; the river, the slight smell of decaying plants, even the lime from the surrounding concrete. He looked down at the boiling, bubbling river, so far below. The spillways were open. They were standing in the tunnel opening halfway up the dam. On both sides, high cliffs led downriver from the dam. The rest of the concrete dam wall soared above them.

Screeching from above him echoed around the sides of dam. The monsters howled, eager for their prey. The leader stared down at them, his huge muscles rippling under his bark-like skin. The severed heads stared at Jack from empty eye sockets. He pointed at Jack and George, and howled.

Monsters flowed down the dam from all sides, racing toward them. A dark avalanche of unstoppable sharp-toothed suckers and claws that made Jack’s blood run cold.

Glancing quickly to his left, Jack grabbed George in a bear hug. “Take a deep breath buddy, okay?” Filling his lungs, he threw them off the ledge, and into the roaring water of the spillway.

Sorry kid. Better to drown than be torn apart.

I’m sorry, so sorry I’ve failed another George…

CHAPTER SIX

Dee couldn’t believe how refreshed the shower made her feel. To wash all the stench, grime, and dirt away after so many days. It was heavenly. She stood under the glorious hot water, for a time forgetting the repugnant Variants outside, the horrors of the last few days. Reluctant, she reached up and turned off the water, then stepped out. Drying herself, she paused. Looking into the small mirror, she gazed back at the gaunt reflection. Squinting, she let out a bark of laughter. She stared at her collar bone poking out and traced the curvature of her neck with her hand, surprised. She was happy to lose some extra pounds, but shocked at how quickly it had happened. She turned away from the mirror.

Dee pulled on her borrowed clothes, grateful to have something clean against her skin. Gathering herself, she headed back into the main section.

Checking on Boss, she found him sound asleep, gently snoring.

Hearing Ben talking in the war room, she walked over.

“Yeah, that’s correct, Falcon 1. I picked up two today. Over.”

Hissing and static carried over the airwaves through the speakers. “Anything happening on the Variant front? Over.”

“None seen today, but definite signs, of course. I had to take out two of them collaborators though. Over.”

“All right, Dusty Hollow. Report in tomorrow. Over.”

“SNAFU, Falcon 1. Wilco, Out.”

Ben reached up. Switching off the radio, he turned to Dee. “Hey, how you feeling?”

“Great! Thanks so much. That shower was heavenly.”

Dee was staring at the monitors and the camera feeds they showed. She could see several Variants moving across the feeds. Pointing at them, she asked, “You’re not worried?”

“Not really. I’m more worried about the ones I can’t see. These ones are just looking for a way in, probing, looking for a weak spot. I don’t get much sleep, though.”

Dee could see from the bags under his eyes that Ben was telling the truth. Hell, no one got much sleep these days. Last night in the boat was the best sleep she’d had since all this began.

“Well, since I’m here, how about I watch for a few hours?”

“Yeah, maybe. We’ll see how we go.”

Dee looked back to the monitors, and she could now see at least twenty of the Variants roaming around, sniffing at everything. Searching.

“You’re seriously not worried?”

Ben shook his head. “SNAFU.”

“SNAFU? I heard you say that.”

“It’s military jargon. It means Situation Normal All Fucked Up. We use it sarcastically, meaning it’s chaos, but that’s normal.”

“Oh right, so you were in the Army?”

Ben nodded. “Yes, I served in the NZ Army, then the NZSAS, two tours of Vietnam, followed by some other stuff. Retired from the NZSAS when I was 45, then trained soldiers until I retired five years ago.”

Dee looked into Ben’s eyes. She could see pain buried deep. Those eyes had seen things no one should see. Not wanting to press him any further, Dee changed the subject. “Do you mind if I ask who you were talking too?”

“No, not at all. I was talking to the Army… or what’s left of it.” Ben pulled out a map of New Zealand and continued. “We have pockets here in Wellington, holed up in the bunker under Government House. There’s a small group in Auckland, under the museum. A few are scattered on the South Island, in the mountains. Most evacuated out to the islands with the Navy. Here on the Chathams, Stewart Island, Great Barrier, and Mayor Island.”

“What about other survivors, like Boss and I?” Dee asked, hopeful of news of Jack.

“A few, yes, when we can find them. We’ve been flying them out to Mayor Island.”

“Then why are you here?”

Ben rolled his shoulders, stretching out a kink, and sighed. “Well, since I have this little bunker, I was recalled to active duty and ordered to stay behind, hunt for survivors.”

Dee allowed hope to float back into her mind. Perhaps Jack was still alive. Maybe he had been airlifted to safety.

“Can we radio Mayor Island and ask about my husband, Jack?”

“It’s pretty chaotic over there, but sure, let’s go for it.”

He turned back to the bank of radios and turned one on. He turned the detent dial until he had the right frequency, then pushed down the talk button on the microphone.

“Falcon 7, Falcon 7, this is Dusty Hollow, over.”

A voice immediately answered, making Dee’s heart leap with excitement.

“Falcon 7 receiving. Over.”

“Falcon 7, looking for civvie, maybe brought a few days back. Over.”

“Name, Dusty Hollow? Over.”

Ben looked at Dee. “Jack, Jack Gee. G-E-E.”

“Falcon 7, Civvies name is Jack Gee, that’s Golf-Echo-Echo. Over.”

“Received. We’ll get back to you. Out.”

Dee paced around the room, grinning from ear to ear. She had hidden in that damp, stinky basement for thirteen days, and in the house for two. Fear of getting torn apart and eaten had frayed her nerves. But she had survived. Boss had provided humour. Her hope of seeing Jack had never diminished. But now it flared up anew, thanks to Ben. He looked like a gentle giant, but Dee had seen the ruthless former SAS soldier in action.

Ben looked at Dee, a twinkle in his brown eyes. Smirking he said. “Wait a minute. Is your married name ‘Gee’?”

Dee laughed. “Yes, I know. Dee Gee.”

It felt good to share a laugh with him.

The radio crackled to life. Dee’s heart hammered in her chest. “Dusty Hollow, Dusty Hollow, this is Falcon 7, Over.”

“Receiving Falcon 7. Over.”

“Nobody of that name on the civilian manifests, Dusty Hollow. Out.”

She was devastated. She had allowed herself to hope. Hope that Jack had made it to Mayor Island. She sat down in a chair, deflated. The roaring in her ears drowned out the rest of the radio conversation.

Ben put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry Dee, I really am. I’ll get you and Boss to the next airlift.”

Dee nodded numbly, eyes downcast. “I should have gone to him. He was in the bush. But I made him come to me.”

“Dee, where was he?”

“Um, he was up in the mountains. Killarney Lakes area.”

Ben got up and started pacing around the small room. “So he would’ve come across the country toward the city, right?”

Dee could feel a spark of excitement. “Yeah. He loves those back country roads.”

Ben fumbled through his pile of maps. Finding the one of the surrounding area, he excitedly pointed down. “Look. All the roads got choked up quickly, so maybe he had to skirt this area, forcing him wide to try to come into the city from the south?”

Dee nodded her head in agreement.

“If he ran into any Variants, he may have been taken.”

Ben placed both gnarled hands on Dee’s shoulders. “Dee, I think I know where he is. If he’s alive, he’s here.”

Dee looked at the map. Ben was pointing at the Waikato River. Next to his finger, she read Karapiro Dam.

“The dam? Why would he be there?”

“Those guys you met? Well, they used to find survivors too, only they give them to the Variants. I captured one of the traitors and extracted some information. The Variants use the dam as a meat locker, a slaughterhouse, and a bloody nest!” Ben spat the last words.

Dee felt herself fall to the ground. Food? Her Jack, now food? The mere thought of it curdled her stomach. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes.

“We have to try and find him,” she sobbed. “I need to know. Will you help me?”

Ben stroked his long beard. With a steely glint in his eyes, he said, “Hell yeah. Let’s go kill these bastards!”

Dee and Ben spent the rest of the evening making preparations. Planning a rescue was not something Dee had ever thought she would be doing, but the thought of her Jack being stored as food to be consumed was not something she could bear to imagine. This guy, who through kindness and a quirky sense of humor had helped her through the darkness. Who, through sharing his joy of movies, books, and the natural world, had helped Dee see the magic of the universe. She wasn’t going to give up on him. She had to know, and if she could banish some of these monsters to the pit of hell from whence they came, then all the better.

Dee checked on Boss a few times, but the poor kid just slept right through. With exhaustion creeping in, the bunk next to him looked more and more inviting.

“Hey, Ben.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to turn in. Wake me up for my watch, okay?”

“All right, sure. And Dee, don’t worry. We’ll go find him.”

She could see the genuine belief in Ben’s eyes. Seeing it comforted her, but that old demon of self doubt nagged at the back of her mind, threatening to pull her back down.

Dee lay awake for some hours, her body battered and bruised but her mind racing, thinking out all the scenarios. What if Jack is dead? Could I still go on? What chance do we have? Sleep finally pulled her into its embrace.

Dee woke to Boss shaking her shoulder. “Hey, sleeping beauty. Where are we?”

Pushing herself up, Dee struggled to shake the cobwebs out of her mind. “Umm, we’re safe… Ben… saved us… his place.”

“Ben?”

Dee ran her hands through her pixie haircut. She patted Boss on the shoulder. “It’s okay. After you were knocked out, Ben shot those two rapists and brought us here. Come on, I’ll introduce you. I bet you're starving, anyway?”

Boss looked relieved, and followed Dee into the war room. Ben turned as he heard them walk up. Dee could see his eyes were red and slightly puffy.

“Hey. You should have woken me for my watch.”

“It’s all right. You guys looked exhausted, thought I’d give you some rest.”

“Still, you need it too.”

Ben tilted his head to one side. “I’m used to it. Been surviving on little sleep most of my working life. This must be Boss?”

Dee grinned. “Oh yes, sorry. Ben, Boss, Boss, Ben.”

Holding out his hand to Ben, Boss said, “Thank you for yesterday.”

“That’s all right kid. Not all men are bastards. Just a lot of them.”

Dee watched the exchange, admiring how they accepted each other so quickly. She guessed the apocalypse could bring out the worst and the best in people.

Before the Hemorrhage Virus had torn into the fabric of society, throwing the country into chaos, she never would’ve imagined herself doing any of the things she had done in the last couple of weeks. Deep down inside is a strength most of us never know exists, until the greatest of circumstances call upon it. That time is now. Today it is time.

After a hearty breakfast Ben rustled up for them, Boss started to look more like his old self.

Ben gathered them around the table in his war room and spread out one of the maps. Ben filled Boss in on what they had figured out while he was unconscious, then outlined his plan.

“So. This is the nest where we think Jack is. There are multiple entrances, but only three of us.

“Boss, you’re going to be in the river on the boat you two found. Dee and I are going to go in, look for Jack, and get out, killing any of those bastards we can. As you discovered, these things don’t like the water for some reason, so that’s our escape route. Now, I’m not going to sugarcoat it: this is probably a suicide mission, and I’m disobeying orders. But I’m tired of the Army just running and hiding.” Ben looked both Dee and Boss in the eyes, then carried on. “I’m giving both of you the opportunity to back out now. I know neither of you have training, but someone with determination and a will to survive can overcome great odds.”

Dee put her hand over Boss’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask, Boss. If you don’t want to do this, it’s fine.”

Boss nodded, shrugged. “Sure, why not, I’m in. Two weeks ago I was just another millennial playing video games and annoying my parents. It’s better to burn out than to fade away, eh?”

She couldn’t help but grin at his movie reference. Just like Jack. Probably why she liked the kid so much.

“Thanks, Boss. I appreciate it.”

Hearing this, Ben crouched down and opened a big duffle bag next to the table. Pulling out some guns, he placed them on the table.

“All right. Boss, you’re going to take these in the boat as backup. If we get out of there alive and Variants are attacking us, as I know they will be, you’re going to have to give us covering fire. Don’t worry too much about hitting them. Just give them something to worry about. I’ll give you both some quick lessons before we move out at 1100 hours, okay?”

Dee and Boss nodded in agreement. Satisfied, Ben pulled out a rifle, the same as the one Dee had seen him use in their rescue.

“This is for you, Dee. Again, I’ll give you a quick lesson before we go, okay? I’ll also give you a shotgun — easier to hit them with. Now, if we get out alive, Boss, you fish us out of the river and we motor to this vehicle I’m going to drop off here,” he pointed to a spot on the map. “Then we hightail it up this road straight to this airfield. I’ll call in the chopper to get us out to Mayor Island.”

Dee looked at Ben and saw a determined look. She felt happier knowing he was a seasoned professional. It was an extremely simple plan, but as he was the only one with military training, it was the only course of action to take. Jack was out there, and she had to know.

Boss said, “Umm, why can’t we wait for your army buddies?”

“They would never approve it. The order went out about a week ago. Get out with as many survivors as you can find, or hunker down. The virus hit too fast. Our small armed forces were not ready for this. It was a miracle the Navy and Air Force were having exercises in the Pacific. As harsh as it sounds, they are not worried about one man. It’s us, or no one,” replied Ben.

Smirking at Ben and Dee, Boss said, “Let’s go hunt some Orcs!”

Dee looked at Ben, curious to see his reaction. Ben returned her gaze, then started laughing, a deep down belly laugh.

Dee couldn’t help but join in. It felt good to laugh. It settled her building nerves.

At 1100 hours Dee found herself following Ben back down the same road they had driven up the previous day. She couldn’t help but shudder in disgust as they pulled onto the farm where Missing Teeth and his buddy had tried to rape her.

Dee and Boss climbed out of the vehicle and headed toward the boat.

Dee hugged Boss goodbye before he climbed in.

As he moved out into the current, she waved. “Good luck… Thanks Boss.”

Boss returned the wave. “Now, you owe me one.”

Jumping back into the car, Dee found herself grinning as she followed Ben again.

The sun was reaching its peak, and she enjoyed the warmth of its rays. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was the last time she would feel them on her skin. She couldn’t help but think she was on her farewell drive, taking in her last sight of the world they had lost. Dee wound down her window and let the wind blow through her hair, enjoying the sensation. Jack always said to enjoy the little things.

They broke the world and ripped my life apart. I’m going to do my best to take back what’s mine.

Don’t give up hope, Jack. It’s all we got left.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jack fought against the strong undertow and currents, and kicked to the surface, pulling George with him. He cradled the child in a lifesaver’s embrace and gulped for air. The added weight of George and his hiking pack, combining with the turbulence from the spillway, forced Jack back down under the muddy water. Realising the pack had to go, he struggled to remove it while trying to keep himself and George afloat. Finally the pack slipped off his shoulders. He watched as it bobbed in the swirling river, the current sweeping it away toward the bank. He would miss it. It had been a good friend for some years now, since Dee had given it to him as a gift.

The cacophony of screeches and howls broke into his thoughts as the torrent drove him away from the dam, lessening the roar of flowing water. He closed his eyes briefly, cursing silently. For a second there, everything had been normal. When he opened them again, he couldn’t miss the monsters. They were racing along the tops of the steep cliffs on either side, keeping up with his and George’s progress downstream. The thick undergrowth barely slowed them, as they took to the trees, swinging from branch to branch instead.

Jack kicked with his legs, willing the current to move him down the river faster. The sun was getting quite high in the sky now. He hoped it would force the monsters back to their nest. As he floated, the monsters continued their relentless pursuit, screeching at him from both sides. Every now and then he heard the almighty bellow of the leader. He could just picture it, weird bark skin and spiked shoulders, and the grotesque child-head trophies. Jack couldn't see him, but he would never get the sight of the two children’s heads on either side of his head out of his mind.

Frantically, he searched for a way out. They had made it this far. Alive, bruised, broken, and injured — well, he was — but alive. He didn’t want to give up now. He had fought to break away from his cocoon. He had found some salvation in George. He had discovered the reason behind their capture. They had escaped. All this would be for nothing if he didn’t find a way for them to reach safety.

Feeling George nestled into his chest, hanging on to him for any sort of comfort, confirmed it. He was thankful. Thankful for this chance at redemption. Jack looked around for a way out. He had trained as a lifesaver in his youth, but with all the trauma his body had gone through, he wouldn’t last much longer in the river.

Farther down the river, he could still see the limestone cliffs soaring high. But lower down, little pockets of bank had eroded away to form muddy coves covered in a thick tangled mess of tree roots and scrub. He could see the bright green of his hiking pack floating close by.

As far as Jack could see, there weren’t any monsters in the scrub. Their screeches sounded close, though. He really needed to get out of the river. Risking it, he kicked for shore, toward one of the muddy coves and his pack. Pushing George in front of him, he pulled his exhausted body out of the river, hooking his leg through the strap of his pack as he did so. To have any chance at survival, he needed his pack. Cold water dripped of his head, splattering onto the mud. Having trouble focusing on his immediate surroundings, he realised the last few days were beginning to take their toll. Wiping some of the water out of his eyes, he crawled under the mess of roots. Exhausted, he leant up against the tree. Looking down at the thick mud coating his legs and arms gave Jack an idea. Scooping up handfuls of mud, he started to coat George with it.

“Sorry, buddy. I know it’s cold and gross, but we need to hide from the monsters, okay?”

Jack made sure the kid was completely covered before doing himself. Maybe it will work. It was worth a shot.

The creatures clearly had excellent vision and a heightened sense of smell, not to mention exceptional hearing. As exhausted as he was, he knew that if he wanted any chance of getting down the river, they had to hide out for now and rest.

For now they had achieved the impossible: they had escaped the hell of that place.

Since learning of the virus, Jack had been trying to get home to Dee. They had always had a “what if?” plan. But no amount of planning and preparation had prepared him for the horrors that now hunted him. He had always been a keen outdoors type, and had learnt the hard way that you needed to be prepared for anything.

One spring day, a day hike turned into a three day nightmare. The weather was cool, clear and crisp as he set off on his six-hour return hike up one of the many valleys cutting their way through the mountains close to his home.

The trip up the valley passed with no incidents. On the return journey, he slipped on a wet rock and caught his boot on a tree root. The result was that he broke his ankle as he tumbled down a steep ravine.

Jack shouted for help until he lost his voice. He had broken the cardinal rule: he hadn’t told anyone of his intentions.

With little hope of rescue, Jack spent the next three days crawling out of the ravine, and then farther down the river to the more popular walking tracks. A very surprised group of elderly hikers found an extremely dehydrated and hungry Jack.

The relief had been immense. He had learned his lesson. Now he followed a strict code of conduct.

Always be prepared.

Sounds of the monsters scrambling through the bush reached Jack. He prayed for his mud trick to work. The closest monster let out a screech. He held George’s hand tight as the mud-covered kid snuggled into him, shaking in fear. Closer now, the screeching intensified. He struggled to keep himself from shaking in fear.

Go away… go away… go away…

A screech right above him nearly made him contemplate jumping back into the flowing water. Opening his eyes, he checked his escape route. Looking out at the river, Jack couldn’t believe his eyes.

A large motorboat was slowly making its way up the river, back toward the dam. He wanted to yell out a warning to the tall, brown-haired figure. It was hard to tell, but Jack thought he looked to be only a teenager.

The figure glanced from side to side, watching the howling monsters on top of the cliffs. Jack could see he was being careful to keep the boat in the middle of the river.

With a horrific screech, the creature above Jack tore off after the boat, following it back toward the nest.

Holding a shaking George, Jack rocked him back and forth, trying to soothe him. “It’s okay, they’ve gone for now,” he whispered. “We’re going to eat the last of my food, then we’re going to have to get back in the river, all right?”

George whimpered into his chest.

Watching the disappearing boat, Jack wondered what the hell the kid on the boat was thinking?

Has the whole world gone mad?

* * *

Dee stared at the Hydro Dam as Ben pulled to the side of the road and brought the 4x4 to stop. She could see the dam stretching across the river, a high cliff dropping away on the opposite bank.

A small electrical substation nestled against the side of the bank she stood on, and beyond, a road stretched across the dam wall, following its curvature.

Pointing to the main building, Ben said, “We go in there, nice and slow. Shoot anything that’s not human. Go for the centre mass to bring it down, then once in the head, okay?”

Dee nodded. “Got it. Rule two. Double tap.”

“If they attack on mass, just fire until you got nothing left. When you reload, shout it so I can cover you.”

Dee looked at Ben, determined but scared. It’s okay to be scared. Ben placed a hand on her shoulder, comforting her somewhat. “Just point and shoot, kid. Give them hell. We find Jack, we retreat straight away.”

Dee followed close behind Ben as they crept up to a large set of wooden doors. She could smell the rotten fruit smell that lingered around the beasts. A sure indicator they were here. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself.

Ben reached out and tried the handle. It gave. Dee watched as he pushed the door wider. She took a last deep breath to help centre herself, and followed him through. She took up a covering position like they had practiced back at the bunker. Scanning the small room, she could see a little desk to one side, but no other furniture.

Ben indicated with his head for her to cover him. He opened up the next door, revealing a steel set of stairs going down. The reek of rotten fruit made Dee gag. Another stench wafted in. She wasn’t quite sure, but it reminded her of decaying flesh.

The thought of what lay beyond, at the bottom of the stairs, horrified her. Ben looked at her, his eyes asking if she was all right. She nodded, and they descended into the stench.

Opening the door at the bottom of the stairs, Dee saw what true horror looked like. People were stuck to the walls, trapped in some weird membrane. Cocooned. Their faces were serene. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath quickening. Praying for her Jack, she frantically ran down the corridor, searching the faces for him. She ignored Ben’s pleading for her to slow down. On she ran, searching. With each successive stranger’s face, her hope of finding Jack alive dwindled. She nearly tripped over the body of a man, blood pooled around his head. Letting out a gasp, she dropped to her knees and pulled the body over. Not recognising the face, Dee let the pent up tears flow.

Ben reached down and hauled her to her feet. “We have to keep going.” He pointed down the long corridor.

Dee wiped away her tears. “Sorry. I thought it was him for a moment.”

Dee and Ben made their way down the corridor, Ben covering as Dee searched the faces. The stench of death and decay became overpowering as they reached a large green door. It stood ajar, splintered on both sides of the door jamb.

Ben poked his head around the door. She saw his eyes go wide in horror.

Screeching erupted from the room, chilling her. Ben spun to Dee. “Run now, fast! Go!”

Dee turned to run. The screeching grew louder. Ben slammed the useless door, and brought his rifle up to his shoulder.

The Variants smashed through the broken door, and Ben opened fire. Firing quick bursts, he quickly took down the first three. Dee raised her shotgun as she turned to help, and aimed for a Variant crawling up the wall beside them. She fired, hitting it right in its torso and taking off one of its weird claw-like appendages. She watched, amazed, as it kept coming at her. Firing again, she blasted it straight in the throat. The Variant slumped to the ground, dead. More Variants replaced it.

Man, these things are fast.

The next few minutes became a blur of terror. Dee fired again and again into the writhing mass of hell, but still they came.

She went into an automatic trance state. Aim, fire, reload, repeat.

While she was reloading, a Variant crawled over the body of one she had dropped, and raked its claws down her leg.

Screaming out in agony, Dee dropped her shotgun, lunged out with her Katana, and speared the Variant through the throat. The black, gunky blood gushed out over her hands. She watched the demon light leave its eyes, and grunted in satisfaction.

Dee looked around for Ben, but he was too busy firing into the last group. He finally dropped the last two Variants with a quick burst, and looked over to Dee clutching her leg.

“You all right?”

“I’ll live, I think.”

“Good. C’mon. Time to leave.”

Dee shook her head. “I need to find Jack.”

“I’m sorry Dee, I really am, but I think he’s gone.”

“You don’t know that!” shouted Dee.

Ben moved over to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “No, I don’t, but you need to live. If not for you, then do it for Jack. Carry on, for him.”

Dee shook her head again, harder this time. “I’m not leaving without knowing,” and brushed past Ben.

Dee had taken a few steps down the corridor when a terrifying screech caused both of them to turn. Several Variants were approaching from the direction they had entered. More screeches and howls answered them. Looking over Ben’s shoulder, she could see a door with a red sign. The walls had been smashed in on both sides of the door.

Ben turned and saw what Dee was looking at. “Go! Yes!”

Bursting into the room through one of the holes in the wall, Dee saw a barricade made from metal lockers. Jack? Hope at finding her husband alive in this den of terror returned. She clambered up on top of the lockers, turning to Ben. Ben started firing at the screeching Variants.

“Ben, up here!”

She racked her shotgun and blasted at the Variants as they clambered through the holes. Ben was struggling to haul himself up as he turned and fired another burst.

She blasted another Variant, the sound deafening her as it echoed off the walls of the small room.

A Variant screeched and, launching itself through the air, latched onto Ben’s back, digging its claws in deep.

Dee let out a howl in frustration and anger, jammed her shotgun into its sucker and blew its head off, showering both of them in brains and black gunk.

Helping Ben up, they climbed into the ceiling, turning and firing as they went. Variants continued to pour through the holes, chasing after them.

Dee reached a small tunnel with light shining through. Blood had pooled on the floor next to the entrance.

Jack? Are you alive?

“Get in the tunnel, NOW!” Ben yelled at her, pulling her back into reality.

Dee didn’t argue. She threw herself into the tunnel, crawling through to the end.

Ben jumped in after her. The Variants pursuing them tore at the concrete surrounding the tunnel. To her relief, it was too small for them to crawl into.

One of the Variants crammed itself in, shrieking while doing its best to rip them to shreds. Ben fired into its head point blank, silencing it.

“Dee, get ready to jump, okay? Into the river!”

Shell-shocked from the last twenty minutes, she nodded.

Ben reached into his vest, took out a small grenade, and threw it back down the tunnel. Then, joining Dee at entrance, he grabbed her in a hug and launched them into the river.

Dee felt the shockwave of the grenade as she fell toward the river wrapped in the embrace of this gentle giant. Before she hit the water, she saw Boss coming up river in the boat. She grimaced as the cold shock of the water hit her.

She was still alive.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jack took out the last of his meager supplies and shared them with George. The poor kid sat hugging his knees, rocking back and forth. Jack wasn’t surprised. It had been a hell-filled few days for them both; he felt like hugging his own knees and rocking. Watching George, Jack wanted more than anything to survive, to find Dee. To keep George safe.

After going through so much, and fighting every step of the way, he didn't want to give in now, no matter how hopeless it seemed.

There is always a way out.

Jack sat listening for the creatures’ howls, but could only hear them in the distance. Crawling out of their muddy root cave, he pulled George up and lifted him onto the bank.

Pop… Pop… Pop.

Jack spun around, back toward the dam. That was gunfire. Muffled, but definitely gunfire.

Hesitating, he listened as it intensified. The sounds of two distinct gunshots came down the river, reverberating off the limestone cliffs. Perhaps some kind of rifle? Jack couldn’t be sure. Then the unmistakable boom of a shotgun rang out. He recognised it straight away.

Those idiots are going to bring that whole nest out…

Jack stood rooted to the spot, listening to the battle. Finally, having decided what to do, he gave George his pack. “Hang on to this, buddy.” Then he grabbed George’s hand.

The two of them waded back out into the river. He nestled George in the lifesaver’s embrace once again, to keep both their heads above the water, then let the current take them downstream, away from the gunfight.

He could see the sun poking through the fluffy white clouds, its rays reflecting off the river and into his eyes.

A loud BOOM echoed down the river. He grimaced. Was that explosives? Hell. Whoever was at the dam, they were serious. He heard the motorboat engine revving and, looking back, he saw it tearing around the corner, heading straight for them.

The monsters’ howls and screeches followed, piercing through the roar of the engine. Jack looked to the tops of the cliffs. Fascinated, he watched as a black mass flowed over the tops. There had to be hundreds of them now. Standing near the back of the mass, closer to the dam, he could see the Alpha leader towering above them, arms outstretched, urging his brethren on.

The motorboat was coming up fast now. Jack raised his free arm, signalling to it as best he could.

The boat swerved around him. Slowing, it fishtailed around. Jack could see the tall teenager and a bearded man looking at him. Slumped in the back of the boat was a smaller figure.

Finding his voice, Jack yelled, “Help, please… I have a boy.”

The boat floated toward him. Or was he floating toward it? Coaxing his tired arms, he held George up. The bearded man, who somehow managed to remind Jack of Gandalf, hauled George into the boat, then reached back for him. Strong, gnarled hands yanked him out of the water.

Collapsing into the boat, Jack looked up. “Thank you,” he gasped.

The howls and screeches of the creatures became deafening, but a splashing sound made Jack turn his head to the cliffs. More splashes followed. The monsters had lost their fear of the water. His heart sank.

“Boss! GO!” yelled the bearded man.

Jack felt the bow of the boat lift as the teenager opened the throttle, and grabbed whatever he could hold on to.

He watched in horror as more and more monsters threw themselves off the cliffs, trying to reach the fleeing boat. Some managed to actually land on the edge of the boat. Digging their claws in, they moved toward the people.

The bearded man lifted his rifle and started firing. Then he yelled back over his shoulder, “Dee! Get it together! We need you!”

Despite everything happening around him, time slowed down for Jack. Dee? Here after all that? Is this real?

Turning to the stern of the boat, Jack looked into those beautiful eyes staring back at him.

As covered in mud, blood, and God knows what else as he was, he launched himself into the arms of the one person who meant the most to him in the world. His rock, his shelter from the storm.

All those years alone had been worth it to spend the last three with her. She was a woman of beauty, intelligence, and magic. She had taught Jack so much about life, about ways to appreciate it.

Even after these nightmares had torn his world apart, he had never given up the hope of finding her again. It had been his motivation, his energy.

Jack and Dee embraced each other sobbing, afraid to let go.

“Dee! Come on!” shouted the bearded man.

Dee pulled herself out of Jack’s embrace and, racking her shotgun, she started blasting at anything that moved in the water.

“Jack! In that bag! Grab a gun!” she yelled at him.

Looking down, Jack saw the bag she was indicating. He hadn’t fired a shotgun for a few months, not since that day at the firing range shooting clay pigeons. Jack gritted his teeth in anger.

He looked around him. At the howling monsters, throwing themselves into the river. At the little red-haired boy, George, huddled against a seat. At his wife, Dee, firing into the black mass of monsters. At the teenager steering the boat down the river. At the bearded man, rifle held to his shoulder, firing quick, controlled bursts.

Each of these people was fighting, fighting to stay alive. Fighting for the human race.

Jack checked that the safety was off, that shells were loaded. Then, planting his feet, he tried to get his balance in the moving boat. Frustration boiling up, he joined the fight.

The Variants continued to throw themselves off the cliffs, aiming for the boat. A couple more managed to land on the bow of the boat, but between himself, the bearded man, and Dee, they dealt with them quickly.

The boat swung from side to side, dodging the beasts. Jack fired at a creature swimming toward him, taking off part of its head. He watched as it sank under the waves. Looking up, he could see a clear path. The teenager driving saw it too, and pulled the throttle hard down, launching the boat free of the raining terrors.

As the boat pulled away, a loud bellow echoed down the cliffs. They all looked upwards and saw the Alpha, glaring down at them. With one last bellow, he turned, and his army of demons followed him, howling and screeching. Jack saw the bearded man raise his rifle. Jack figured he was looking through his scope at the Alpha.

Dee was holding on to Jack once more. She watched Ben as he lowered his rifle.

“Why didn’t you shoot?”

“No point. I don’t think this calibre would penetrate through all that bone and hide.” Looking at the mud-covered man in Dee’s embrace, Ben added, “I guess this is Jack?”

A smile broke out on Dee’s face, so wide she felt her muscles complaining. “Yeah, it sure is. After all that, he was floating away downriver!”

Dee didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her Jack was alive! He was back in her arms, his bright blue eyes smiling at her.

“Ben, Jack, Jack, Ben. And the tall one driving is Boss.”

Jack and Ben acknowledged each other with a nod. Dee could see a bemused look on Jack’s face.

“Boss?”

“Another time, Highlander.”

Jack grinned at her, smiling wide.

Boss turned. “Hey. We’ve been waiting for you.”

“You have? Well, I would’ve got here a bit sooner, but I ran into a bit of bother with some locals.”

Jack reached down and ruffled George’s hair. “This little fighter is George. He saved me.”

Dee crouched down to George. “Hey, little guy.”

Jack’s heart skipped a beat when the little red-haired kid wrapped his arms around her. He’d known she would like him. Perhaps, in spite of the apocalypse and the horrors they had faced, he and Dee had found that missing piece.

Jack could hear the howls of the monsters in the distance. The high limestone cliffs had finally given way to tree-lined banks. Boss turned the boat for shore, heading toward a 4x4 parked under the trees.

Ben turned from scanning the bank with his scope. “All right everyone, stay frosty. We need a quick transition to the 4x4, no dawdling.” Seeing everyone understood, he carried on, “Dee, you drive. I’m going to radio the chopper. With those pursuing Variants, that LZ is going to be hot as hell.”

Jack felt the keel of the boat nudge the bank. Wrapping George in his arms, he picked him up. Then he followed the others into the waiting 4x4. Jack liked this guy, Ben. The waiting vehicle was planned, the boat in the river, everything. A chopper, coming to get us? To where? Safety? Jack had so many questions buzzing around in his head, but the ever-closer howls and screeches meant they had more pressing matters to be concerned about.

The 4x4 tore up the middle of the country road. Glancing in her side mirrors, Dee could see the Variants closing in from the sides and rear. Urging the vehicle faster, she jammed the accelerator to the floor. “Guys, we got company!”

A couple of lead Variants slammed into the back of the 4x4, rocking it from side to side. Their claws tore into the fleeing vehicle, trying to get a purchase.

Dee looked over at Ben just as he jammed a fresh magazine into his rifle.

He leant out the passenger side window and tried to get a bead on the chasing pack.

She could see the two Variants clinging to the back of the vehicle. “Boss, Jack, see if you can get these bastards off us!”

Jack twisted around in the back seat, and saw the two monsters clinging on. One started smashing its head into the rear window, causing it to crack. He pushed George down into the footwell. “Cover your ears!” he urged the boy.

He blasted the headbutting monster. The boom of the shotgun rattled his brain. Jack looked at the shattered window. The monster still clung to the back of the vehicle, mocking him.

Then it began to crawl in through the back, howling, its sucker mouth smacking so close Jack could see the rows of tiny sharp teeth. He pulled the trigger again, this time taking off half its head. The black gunk sprayed all over him. He heard another boom of a shotgun and saw the last one fall onto the road behind them, tumbling over and over before righting itself. It started to chase them again, sprinting down the road in rabid pursuit.

Hell, these things are hard to kill.

Jack crawled into the back. Using the shotgun, he pushed the corpse of the beast out. Beyond, he could see hundreds of them chasing, moving in a weird wave as they scrambled over the fields, hunting them tirelessly.

“How much farther? These things are gaining fast!” he yelled.

Without putting down his rifle, Ben replied, “About half a click. It’s just up over that rise.” Ben let off another shot. “This is going to be tight. Chopper is still ten minutes out.”

Jack reached down into the ammo bag and reloaded his shotgun. He crammed extra shells into his pockets, filling them as much as he could.

They finally pulled into the small airfield. Long grass surrounded it, baked dry by the hot sunny days. A small tin shed sat next to a couple of larger buildings. Jack could see a concrete pad with a big capital “H” painted in bright yellow. He scanned the sky to the west for the chopper; he could just make out a tiny speck flying out of the clouds.

Dee slammed on the brakes, bringing the 4x4 to a skidding halt between the buildings. Turning to look back down the road, she saw the mass of Variants charging toward them, already down the other end of the runway. Their screeches and howls filled the air. Raising her rifle, she sighted one through her scope. Pulling the trigger, she watched as it stumbled, fell, then kept on charging. You’ve got to get these things in the bloody head!

She looked over at Ben, firing into the mass. Dee could see the odd one staying down. In that moment, she realised this was it, their last stand. Unless the chopper arrived in the next few minutes, they were dead.

She looked over at her husband, searching out his eyes. She wanted to look into them and feel the love of his soul one last time. She had fought through loneliness, anger, and frustration to find him. She had battled Variants, killed them, watched people get torn apart. Almost got raped.

For a few glorious moments, she had held him again.

She saw Jack grinning at her. As covered in grime, mud, and Variant muck as he was, she still thought he looked handsome.

She could see the little red-haired boy, George, peeking out the car door, his ice blue eyes staring at the oncoming mass. She looked over at Boss as the wisecracking teenager loaded shells into his shotgun.

Dee turned back toward the mass of monsters. So be it, but I’m going to take down as many of you bastards as I can.

Raising her rifle back to her shoulder, Dee saw a stack of red tin barrels off to one side, next to a large tank with a bowser attached. Of course! AV gas! Do we have time?

“Jack! Boss! The fuel!” she yelled as she pointed. Not waiting for an answer, Dee ran over to the barrels.

Seeing what she meant, Jack and Boss followed immediately.

Dee reached up and unhooked the bowser, then depressed the trigger. Fuel started pouring out onto the grass. She sloshed it around as far as she could, and watched as Jack and Boss rolled some barrels out onto the grass, straining with the weight.

“Soak the grass between the buildings. We’ll burn the bastards as they funnel through.”

She watched as Jack and Boss grunted with exertion. They unscrewed the caps, letting the high octane fuel soak into the grass.

“Ben, how close are they?” she yelled.

Without pausing his firing, Ben yelled back, “Back in the truck, they’re coming up fast. We’re going to have to make a run for it.”

Dee, Jack, and Boss jumped back into the 4x4. Ben leant out the window and cracked open a flare. As Dee pulled away, he threw it into the pool of fuel.

The fuel ignited instantly, spreading outwards and into the mass of Variants as they funneled into the gap. Many of them were caught in the firestorm, screeching. The smell of burnt flesh reached Dee as she glanced in the mirrors. Even more of them were flowing around the buildings, chasing, snarling, toward their prey.

CHAPTER NINE

Jack could hear Ben yelling into a handheld radio, but he wasn’t paying too much attention. He focused on the spreading fire and the rolling black mass of monsters. The fire did its job in slowing down the vanguard, giving them the precious time they needed. Dee had driven them out into the middle of the runway. He heard Ben tell her to head for the fenceline surrounding the bush-clad mountain. Jack dared to have a little hope again. Having volunteered on the mountain, he knew it well. The whole mountain was surrounded by a three-meter-high pest-proof fence. Several New Zealand flightless birds, such as Takahe and the North Island brown Kiwi, had been reintroduced to great success.

The 4x4 bounced over the rough farmland toward the fence. Jack spotted the service road running along it.

“Dee, head left. There’s a entry gate on that ridge.”

He watched, mesmerised, as another mass of the monsters closed in from below the gate.

This is going to be close.

Jack tapped Ben’s shoulder. “There’s a shed next to the gate. That’s where they keep some quad bikes.”

Ben nodded as he gripped the door handles. “Just take your guns. We have to hightail it up to the summit. The boys in the chopper are going to meet us there, okay?”

Everyone murmured understanding.

Jack watched as the mass of monsters flowed ever closer. They had perhaps only a few minutes to get the bikes and go. A chance is better than no chance at all.

Dee drove right up to the gate. She could see a small enclosure built through the fence with doors at either end. She remembered coming here with Jack when they were first dating.

It was designed so only one door could be opened at any given time, a pest prevention safeguard. Dee jumped out and, grabbing George by the hand, headed for the enclosure. She could hear the howls and screeches getting louder.

Dee looked over at the others. “Hurry!”

Ben raised his rifle up and fired off a few rounds. “Go! Go! Inside.”

Dee didn't hesitate, and pulled George through the first door. Boss, Ben, and Jack followed. She could see sweat dripping off Boss as he watched the nearing mass of Variants. “Boss! Go with Jack, hurry!”

She watched them head to the shed. Refocusing, she raised her borrowed rifle.

Looking through the scope at the Variants, Dee couldn’t help but admire them a little. The Hemorrhage Virus had changed humans. Modified them into something else. Something almost beautiful, in an evil way. Killing machines. Perfect killing machines. The great white shark of the new world order.

Man’s arrogance had finally led to his downfall.

Dee heard engines revving in the background. She fired off a few rounds as the lead monsters slammed into the fence. Dee lost herself in the heat of battle and held her finger down on the trigger, screaming at the beasts.

Ben grabbed her shoulder. “Let it go! There’s too many of them!”

Dee let Ben pull her away from the fence. She climbed onto one of the quad bikes with Jack, little George jammed in between them.

Jack gunned the engine, then tore off up the track leading to the summit. Dee watched, shocked, as the rest of the Variant horde reached the fence, and started to climb after the fleeing human survivors.

Jack worked his way through the gears, willing the Honda 420cc engine to go faster. His nerves were frayed beyond anything he could ever have imagined. Blissfully unaware of the virus for the first couple of days, it hadn’t been until he’d reached the hut and cell phone coverage that the nightmare had begun.

Then the mad dash across the road-clogged countryside, his first encounter with the monsters, the family getting torn apart… His escape down the river, his capture and escape from the dam. And finding Dee, who had come to rescue him. He choked up at the thought, tears threatening. It would all be for nothing if he didn’t get them up this mountain.

Shaking off the emotions, he concentrated on taking the bends of the road as fast as he could. He could feel George wrapping his arms around him. Dee had wrapped her arms around them both, and leant into the corners with him.

Jack risked a glance to the side. Ben and Boss sped along behind him. This was a dash to the top, a dash to live, to fight another day.

Flying around another bend, Jack saw the stairs he was looking for, which would take them the last few meters to the lookout platform. Screeches and howls greeted him as he brought the quad bike to a stop. Leaping off the bike, he grabbed George and took the stairs two at a time, his injured leg screaming in pain. Boss bounded up ahead. Jack didn’t blame him for it. The kid was running for his life.

Dee watched Jack, Boss, and George head up the stairs. Checking her rifle, she looked back down the road. Already some of the Variants were charging toward them, their reptilian eyes fixed on her and Ben. Inexplicably, they stopped about a hundred meters away, as if assessing Ben and herself. Dee wondered if they were contemplating which limb to rip off first.

Ben bumped into her as they backed up the stairs. She kept a bead on the massing horde.

Whispering, Ben said, “Aim for the middle of the head. Take the one on the left. Remember, squeeze the trigger, nice and gentle.”

Dee heard a deep, angry bellow. Then the lumbering frame of the Alpha Variant, bones protruding from his shoulders, came into view. She stared horrified at the decapitated heads alongside his own. So that’s what they’re waiting for. We are for him to kill. His meal to devour.

“Run, Dee! Now!” yelled Ben.

Dee reacted. Spinning around, she tore up the stairs toward the lookout. Ahead, the others were already clambering onto the platform. Jack yelled something to her, but she couldn’t hear him. The last few days of running, fighting, and surviving were catching up to her. She was emotionally and physically drained, spent. Willing her body on for one last shot at safety, she reached the ladder to the lookout platform. Jack was reaching down, hand outstretched, his blue eyes willing her on. She grasped his hand. Jack pulled her up and onto the platform. Dee scrambled to her feet and spun, searching for Ben.

Jack watched in horror as the monster leader bounded up the stairs after them. It moved incredibly fast. He had just hauled Dee up onto the platform when he heard the thump thump thump of the chopper. Boss stood in the middle of the platform, waving a flare.

Just a few moments more. Ben reached the ladder, turning and firing over his shoulder as he went. The leader was now only meters away, his minions fanning out behind him.

When Ben reached the top of the ladder, Jack rushed to help haul him over the lip. A ferocious bellow sounded out, and Jack watched in horror as the giant creature leapt ten meters into the air and landed on the ladder behind Ben. He pulled back one of his huge arms and speared Ben with a claw, right in his side.

Ben screamed in agony as Jack tried to pull him to safety. Jack yelled for assistance, his eyes finding Boss’s. The teenager rushed over. Digging his feet against the railing, he tried to help Jack pull Ben onto the platform.

The Alpha swung his other arm at Boss, and a huge claw speared Boss through his calf muscle. With a savage bellow, and an insane glint in his eyes, he ripped off Boss’s lower leg, spraying blood over the poor kid. Warm, red blood arched, hitting Ben and Jack.

Thump, thump, thump.

The chopper hovered above the lookout, the wash of its spinning rotors sweeping over Jack as he hung onto Ben. The blessed sounds of the minigun firing pounded in Jack’s ears. The gunner swept the blazing rounds of hot metal death at the gathering mass of creatures.

Brrrrooooootttttttt.

Jack saw Dee push George toward the lowering chopper, but the little boy looked back frantically, clearly searching for Jack.

“Take the kid and go, Jack!” Ben yelled, in obvious pain.

Jack looked at George, conflicted. He wanted to get to safety, but he didn’t want to leave this man to such a horrible fate. With an angry yell, he let go of Ben’s arm and reached over to pull Boss away from the Alpha. The poor kid was shaking from the shock of his injuries.

Dee screamed as George broke loose from her grip. Pulling the screwdriver he still had in his tool belt, he charged, screaming at the Alpha, and jammed the screwdriver into its eye.

The Alpha let out a deafening bellow and released Ben. Dee ran over and helped to pull him up and toward the chopper.

The minigun operators let loose, firing upon the Alpha, bullets slamming into his tough bark hide. He howled up at the helicopter, swiping his huge claws at it in frustration. The gunner continued to fire. The Alpha howled once more, saliva dripping from its sucker. Then it jumped from the ladder, and retreated into the forest below.

Strong hands grabbed Jack, helping to haul him and Ben into the chopper. Dazed and confused, he sat on the cold metal floor as the chopper lifted away from the platform.

Jack could see monsters covering the road and stairs. They streamed out of the bush, howling up at their escaping prey. The fire they had lit still burned on the airfield, thick black smoke rising into the air.

He was alive. He had found Dee. He had found a little soul. He had found hope amongst the tragedy of the last couple of weeks. Jack looked over to George, and couldn’t help but smile at him. The little kid had saved them all. The smallest of souls can have the greatest of effects.

He looked over at his wife. She leant against the wall of the chopper, cradling the teenager’s head in her lap. One of the minigun operators was attempting to stem the flow of blood from his leg. Their eyes met and they smiled at each other.

Jack found Ben’s eyes; the man with the long wizard beard had risked his life to reunite Dee with Jack. Jack moved over and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, mate. Thanks for coming to get me.”

“No one left behind, mate. You go and be with your family, Jack.”

They exchanged a look of respect, of shared experience. Is this what all soldiers experience?

Jack looked at the medic tending Ben’s wounds. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s losing a lot of blood. All I can do is stabilise him until we get back to base.”

Jack patted the medic and slid over to Dee, taking her hand in his. He just stared at her, tears of joy, mixed with sorrow, welling up in his eyes. I made it. I found her.

Dee watched Jack looking at her. No words needed to be said. They knew how lucky they were. They had survived. They had found each other amongst the chaos. Battered, bruised, wrung out, but alive.

Stroking Boss’s head, she tried to reassure the kid it was going to be all right. She was no medical professional, but even she knew he had lost a lot of blood.

She watched as the man in Army fatigues tied a strap around Boss’s torn leg. Without looking at her, he said, “He’s going to need blood, and lots of it. What blood type are you, Ma’am?”

“Umm, O negative, I think,” Dee replied.

“Perfect. Universal donor. I’ll get set up.”

Dee looked into Boss’s eyes. “You hear that, kiddo? You’re going to be fine.”

Boss murmured something. Leaning closer, Dee heard him say, with a smirk, “I’m Samaritan, so don’t bury me in the Jewish section.”

A sobbing laugh escaped Dee’s lips. Even when facing death, the cheeky kid quoted Monty Python.

EPILOGUE

Jack stood on the cliff top, watching the sun sink below the New Zealand mainland. The cooling salt air brushed against his healing skin.

For two weeks, he had stayed in the makeshift infirmary. When they’d first arrived, the Army medics and surgeon worked tirelessly through the night to save Ben and Boss. Both of them had required long surgeries and liters of blood. Dee had stood vigil next to Boss, refusing to leave his side until he was in the clear. Jack visited Ben as much as the nurses allowed him; the tough old goat was sitting up in no time. Jack discovered he was a fellow WWII enthusiast. Discussions about a familiar subject had helped the healing process for both of them.

Ben gave him some information about how bad it was out there in the world, while Jack told Ben of his experiences in the dam. He explained how he had made it out. They discussed the men they’d seen helping the Variants. Collaborators, Ben called them.

On the long walks Jack took to calm himself, his mind replayed how he had killed the man with the red trucker’s cap. Even though he had no remorse, it haunted him. He had killed someone. Snuffed out a life.

He reasoned that the man was a traitor. He’d betrayed his own kind to save his skin. Perhaps he deserved to die. In Jack’s opinion, they all had to band together, man against monsters. They had to stop all this petty racial bickering, because they were one race. The human race. These Variants were now the apex predators. If we want any chance to survive, we have to do it together.

One thing still bugged him, though. How had he and George regained consciousness when no one else in that corridor had? He mused over this for days, but couldn’t come up with any plausible explanation. Jack decided to let it go for now. They had bigger things to be concerned about.

Thinking of George, he smiled. George had adapted well to his new surroundings, even finding a few new friends in the camp. They had him running around squealing in no time.

Dee, Jack, and George had spent the morning collecting manuka flowers from the many trees that dotted the hills surrounding the bay and camp. George had asked why they were doing this several times, and Dee had patiently explained that it was a way of remembering people. If truth be told, she and Jack had seen this ritual in a movie with Native Americans in it, and had loved the sincerity of it. When Dee’s father had died, she and Jack had honored him with the ritual.

As they had no bodies to bury, this was the only way they could think of to honor those lost.

Jack and Dee had discussed at length about trying to find Jack’s family. No one they knew had made it to Mayor Island, or any of the other pockets of survivors they had radio contact with. Jack insisted that his family were smart. They knew about the cabin, so there was a chance.

Jack could feel the sea breeze picking up as it came up off the ocean and met the volcanic island. Perfect, he thought, smiling.

Crunching on the pathway behind him warned of people approaching. Turning, he watched in admiration as Boss, using crutches, his lower right leg bandaged at the stump, walked along behind the others.

Boss had stayed in the infirmary for a further two weeks. The nurses had finally let him out, for a short time, at least.

“You guys ready?”

“Yup,” they chorused.

Jack let out a nervous sigh. “We are here today to honor and remember those that we lost. We lost friends, family, pets, everything. But amongst it all, we found each other. We drew strength and courage from each other. These brave men and women on this island, and Ben, who helped us; they give us new hope so that we can carry on. Because, we owe it to others’ sacrifices that we carry on, not only for them, but for ourselves.”

Jack, Dee, Boss, and George raised up their arms and opened their palms, allowing the wind to carry away the crushed flowers. Dee reached over and slid her hand into Jack’s.

George clung between them, leaning out over the cliff to watch the flowers float toward the sea.

“A fine speech, Jack.” Jack turned around. Frowning, he watched Ben hobble toward them. “A fine speech indeed.”

Ben reached out and grasped them all in a hug.

“Benny!” George squealed.

Ben ruffled George’s hair with affection. Smiling at Jack and Dee, he nodded at each of them. “Sorry I’m late. The Colonel’s meetings tend to drag on. But we’ve a heap to do and little manpower to do it with.” He stroked his long bushy beard. “Did you guys mean what you said? About letting me train you?”

Jack and Dee exchanged a look. “Hell, yeah!” they answered in unison.

“Good, I’m glad. We need everyone we can get. Especially people like you. You both showed real courage under fire. I think that, with some training, you two will be real handy in what's to come.”

“What is to come?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, look I can't give details yet, but we’re going to fight back. The Colonel’s been on the horn to the Americans. That's all I can say at the moment.” A pondering look flickered across his face. Jack searched his twinkling brown eyes for anything else, but Ben’s face remained a calm mask.

Ben nudged Boss on the shoulder.

“Boss, the Colonel has agreed to teach you radio operations. He’s dying to know how you reached the Americans on some amateur ham radio. You begin as soon as the Doc gives you the all clear.”

Boss grinned at him, barking out a laugh. “Did I leave that part out? “

“Yes!”

“Guam. He said he was in Guam. Wherever the hell that is?”

Boss smirked at Dee, glanced at Jack and Ben. “You guys know I’m the hero in this rule of three, eh?”

Frowning, Jack exchanged a look with Dee and Ben. “Hero? In the rule of three? Boss?”

“Yeah, you know, teenage guy or girl ripped away from his home, orphaned. Meets old wise man. Gets trained and fights back.”

Jack laughed. “Ah, you mean the classical hero's journey. And it’s twelve steps, I think.”

“Yeah, that’s the one, but whatever.”

Ben, now laughing, held his injured side. “Kid, don’t make me laugh, I’m still healing. Just so you know, the rule of three is a survival guide. Basic guide at best.”

Dee, laughing with Ben, wrapped her arm around Boss and held him close.

Jack smiled as he turned back to see the last of the sun dip down over his homeland. Despite all the horror and trauma he had been through, he was happy. He had survived. He had escaped the Variant nest. He had saved George. Amongst all the chaos, he had found Dee. He was determined not to let this second chance go to waste. To find his family. To give George, Boss, and everyone a world to live in.

He wrapped his arms around Dee, feeling her warmth as they watched the first of the stars appear on the horizon.

Not just my stars, but everyone’s. They belong to everyone. To shine a little light down on this dark new world. George squealed, the noise bouncing around the cliffs. Jack looked over and smiled. The child was chasing a cicada.

He could be forgiven for thinking everything was normal. It felt as if the last couple of weeks hadn’t happened. As if Dee and he were on a camping trip enjoying nature. Jack sighed as he looked back at the mainland.

Three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter, and three minutes without air.

* * *

The Alpha made his way through the field, his subjects following a short distance behind. He could smell the others approaching from the north, west, and east. He stopped in the middle of the field and bellowed up at the moon. Three bellows sounded out in answer. They were close. Soon his plan would be put into motion. Soon the remaining humans would be corralled into their nests. They needed to breed again, provide him with food.

A human fragment tugged at him. Didn’t he used to do this with animals?

He shook the memory away. The anger, the hunger, gnawed at his soul. First, he wanted to find the little one that had taken his eye. He wanted to feel the satisfaction of ripping the flesh from its bones and sucking out its marrow. The humans had escaped from his grasp in the thumping beast that sent stinging, burning rain on him. He had lost many of his tribe chasing them.

He watched as the others approached, the Alpha leaders towering over their minions. The other three stopped around him. Together, they bellowed up at the moon, their packs joining in.

He assessed the other Alphas, and grunted, “Where?”

The Alpha who had come from the north signaled behind him. Two Variants pushed two humans forward, shoving them to the ground at the feet of One Eye.

He looked down at them. The blonde hair of the female was matted against her head. He fought the urge to sink his teeth into the curvature of her neck and taste her blood. The last remaining human part of his brain bubbled to the surface. She’s a real looker.

Bellowing angrily, he grunted, “Where?”

One of the Variants kicked the male. One Eye looked down at the slightly overweight man, with his shaved head and beady eyes. He hissed at him, shoving his face closer. “I… I… I don’t know where they are, please…”

One Eye sniffed him. He could definitely smell them on him. With an angry bellow, he lashed out and speared the man through the head with his claw. With a satisfied hiss, he lapped up the spilling blood and brain matter.

One Eye turned to the Alpha that had come from the east. “Where?”

The Alpha from the east pushed a skinny male out onto the ground. Skinny held up his hands in surrender, pleading, “ Please… please don’t kill me… I know where they are.”

He pointed east, toward the mountains.

One Eye snarled in satisfaction. His anger barely contained, he let out a deafening bellow.

One Eye hauled on four chains, pulling the terrified prey at the other end toward them. Four children appeared, covered in filth. They were sobbing.

The four Alphas smacked their suckers. The small ones tasted so much sweeter.

Handing over his offerings in chains to the Alphas, he grunted, “Eat.”

The four gathered Alphas sank their teeth into the children’s throats, tearing them out, and forever silencing them.

The surrounding packs screeched and howled at the smell of the spilt blood.

Now that the Alphas had shared a meal, they were joined in blood. Bonded in evil.

END OF BOOK ONE.

THE STORY CONTINUES IN

BOOK TWO: THE FOURTH PHASE

AFTERWORD

First of all, thank you for taking a chance and reading my Extinction Cycle novella. I would be eternally grateful if you could leave an honest review. Doing so will help me develop as a writer.

Having read the Extinction Cycle, when it was opened up to Kindle Worlds, I realised I wanted to tell a story from a New Zealand point of view. I tried to imagine what would happen if an everyman and woman were caught up in an apocalypse. We are a small nation with a small, but determined and proud, armed force. We have stood by our British, Australian, and American brothers at times of war. As a whole, we don’t have a lot of firearms readily available, but they are there, mainly for hunting purposes.

Because this book is set in New Zealand, I have used UK spelling and there are some Kiwi phrases. If any of them confuse you, please email me for an explanation.

All the place names and locations in this book are real, and I encourage you to look them up on Google Maps. Or better yet, come and visit our beautiful country. Perhaps I’ll take you hiking.

Fate is a theme in this book, and it is indeed a funny thing, because it was fate that led me to the Extinction Cycle via another book in 2015. Reaching out to Nicholas led me to a great friendship and his amazing books. Which has now led me to write my first book.

Thanks again for reading, be sure to look out for the next adventures of Jack, Dee, and Boss.

You can contact me on:

Facebook: Guardians of the Apocalypse

Email: adesmithwrites@gmail.com

With courage you dare to take risks.

Mark Twain

Copyright

Kindle Worlds

Text copyright© 2017 by the Author.

This work is made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Nicholas Sansbury Smith. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Extinction Cycle remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Nicholas Sansbury Smith, or their affiliates or licensors.

For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

Content

Adrian J Smith
THE RULE OF THREE
(AN EXTINCTION CYCLE NOVELLA)

CREDITS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

EPILOGUE

AFTERWORD

Copyright