Red Devils

19

Captain Hunter and his men reached the airfield with only minor inconvenience from a handful of rogue corpses. Some of the soldiers appeared overly keen to try their hand at ‘re-killing’ (as someone had named it) and almost fought with each other to be among the first ones to attack. Hunter let them have their moment. He’d felt all along that there’d be plenty of opportunities to face this new unnatural foe.

And he was soon proved right.

The airfield at Leginów appeared barely equipped to support any kind of military activity. It was little more than a long, roughly rectangular field with a number of small, hut-like buildings at the far end. A camouflaged hangar stood off to the right.

Hunter split his men, one group advancing along each side of the makeshift runway which, had it not been for the tell-tale grooves left in the frozen mud and long patchy strips of flattened grass, would have been indistinguishable from any other field in any other place. There was some movement in the trees nearby, but the soldiers were able to advance with such well-practiced stealth that they passed by the dead unnoticed.

The groups converged near the hangar. Hunter sent a couple of his best men inside, Sergeants Hennessy and O’Rourke. They were in and out in a couple of minutes and wasted no time reporting back. ‘Looks clear, Captain,’ Hennessy said. ‘I mean it’s empty and all, but no surprises.’

‘Good, good. Looks like we got the better end of the deal then, eh boys. We get to protect an airfield that don’t much need protecting.’

‘Can we get inside, sir?’ a kid called Rumbelow asked. The adrenalin had worn off, and cold was setting in.

‘Don’t see why not. Mudriczki and Carter, take a couple more fellas and get those huts checked out. The rest of you, let’s get in out of the cold.’

Jimmy Mudriczki led the men over to the first of the huts. He peered inside through an ice-covered window but could see little. Definitely no movement. Nat Carter looked in from the opposite side. ‘Looks okay, Jimmy,’ he said.

‘Yeah, this place is like the grave. No one here. Anyone with any sense is long gone. Get the door and let’s get this done.’

The two other men – Coles and Willard – took up position just to the rear of Carter as he leaned across and pushed the door open.

The hut was booby-trapped.

The building exploded, billowing flames and searing heat filling the night air. The noise echoed like a gunshot. Mudriczki, Carter and Coles were killed instantly. Willard staggered away from the wreck, his smock on fire, trying to put himself out. Other men were there in seconds to help, but they all knew it was too little, too late.

The trap had had the desired effect. A horrific parting shot from the krauts who’d fled Polonezköy.

All around, the dead turned towards the airfield and began their lethargic advance.

Hundreds of them.