The Rule of Three

— 10 —

“Single file. Follow Bawden. Keep silent,” Holt said. “Understood?” He stared at Dee, waiting.

“Understood. But I’m going home. I’m waiting for my husband.”

“Negative. All civilians are to be evacuated.” Holt grabbed her arm and pushed her in front of him.

She bit her lip and decided to play along for a while. They were heading in the direction of her house and, more importantly, away from the creatures.

Holt thumbed the radio he had strapped onto his tactical vest.

“Four civvies for extraction,” Holt said.

There was a moment of static before a garbled voice rippled over the airwaves. “Negative. Holt… they’re everywhere. Go!” The popping sounds of gunfire filtered through.

“Say again, Nikau?”

“Creatures…” Crack! Crack!

Holt tried to reach Nikau a couple more times, but to no avail. He turned back to Dee, his brow furrowed. “Looks like we’re walking. What’s the quickest route to Claudelands Arena?”

“Follow this river trail for about three kilometres until we reach the rail bridge. Cross that and we’ll nearly be there,” Dee said.

He nodded and tapped Bawden on the shoulder. The two soldiers had a brief, hushed conversation before taking up positions, Bawden in front of the children and Holt just behind Dee.

Bawden led them back onto the paved riverpath. He swivelled his rifle constantly from side to side, his eye glued to the scope on the back. Dee had only seen equipment like that in one of Jack’s action movies.

After the golf course, the path ascended steeply, hugging the limestone cliffs that edged this stretch of the river. Expensive mansions perched precariously atop the cliffs, overlooking the water. Dee could hear the occasional scream, shout and the odd crying out. But, other than that, there were no other human sounds. No cars. No music. Not even the usual night-time squawk of birds or hoot of the morepork. The howls and shrieks of the creatures had taken over, every screech reminding her of the nightmare.

Bawden came to a sudden stop and held up his fist. He stopped so quickly, the children banged into his stumpy frame. He crouched down on one knee and signalled Holt, waving his finger and pointing ahead into the gloom.

Dee looked to where he was gesturing and cringed at the sight of a dozen pairs of yellow glowing eyes. The eyes blinked as one, and a hideous shriek rattled Dee’s brain. Chaos broke out as everything happened at once.

Holt and Bawden aimed their carbines into the mass of yellow eyes and began firing. Over the din of the gunfire, Holt screamed at her, “Get the kids out of here!”

The eyes morphed into creatures as they flitted out of the dark and bounded towards the humans. Bawden and Holt were dropping them as fast as they could, but every time they killed one, another took its place.

Dee was rooted to the spot, paralysed by indecision. The only way out was up. Up through the scrub and through the grounds of the mansions. The children began screaming as they spotted the beasts. Dee snapped out of her immobility and picked up the nearest kid. She struggled over the flimsy wire fence, turned, and helped the other two children over. Holt glanced back and shouted something, his words lost in the commotion. Dee pushed the children in front of her, urging them on through the scrub. Behind her, the gunfire became sporadic before falling silent as she made it into the back yard of a house. It gleamed in the moonlight, its bright white paint shining like a beacon. They made it up onto the deck and huddled against the house, gasping for breath. Dee hugged the children close. She still had the machete and turned it over in her hands. Its blade and handle were pitted and chipped. She listened to the sounds of the beasts and twisted the weapon in her hands. She looked down at the children as they hugged her tight, frightened. Dee sighed. What use was this machete if two highly trained soldiers with assault rifles couldn’t make it.

She knelt down next to the kids. “I don’t live too far away. We’re going to find a car and go there, okay?”

The children whimpered but didn’t speak. Dee didn’t blame them. If she paused to admit it, she was terror-stricken to the point of giving up. The sights and sounds of Rachel, Machete and Broomstick being eaten would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Dee had a sudden image of Jack flit through her mind. He was wearing his hiking pack and he was smiling. Those blue eyes that seemed to smile at her, no matter his mood. One of his favourite sayings, something he’d tried to instil in her, flashed through her mind.

There is always a way out.

Dee stood and gazed down at the river. She could see the glow of fires on the other side as she tried to get her exact bearings. By the way the crow flies, she was still two kilometres from home. Three by the streets.

She gritted her teeth and took the smallest child’s hand. “No noise, okay?”

For the second time that night, Dee crept around the side of a house, heart pounding, fingers tingling with fear. Gripping the machete tight, whitening her knuckles, she led the kids away from the mansion, keeping to the shadows. She marvelled at how the children didn’t make a sound, at how they were allowing her, a complete stranger, to guide them. Trusting her. Dee just hoped she had made the right decision. Common sense told her to get inside one of these houses and wait until daylight, but Dee wanted the familiarity of her own house.

Once there, she had access to a month’s-worth of food and water. She had a katana and the basement could be easily secured. Better that than going into the unknown.

Dee and the kids ducked behind a car that had slammed into a power pole. Glass and oil covered the ground. Tentatively, Dee looked inside and smiled at the sight of the keys hanging from the ignition.

“Lady?” A kid tugged on her arm and pointed across the road. Dee froze when she spotted the creature. All the hair on its head had fallen out except for a wispy clump near its forehead. It reminded her of some of those bad haircuts back in the 90s. She reached behind and nudged at the children, gesturing at them to get into the car. Dee cracked the door open, all the while keeping an eye on the beast. For now, it seemed intent on sniffing the driveway opposite. Once the kids were in the car, she edged around the front of the vehicle.

Unfortunately Dee was too busy watching the creature and not keeping an eye on where she was placing her feet. Glass crunched under her feet, cracking like she was walking on eggshells.

The beast’s head snapped up and swivelled around. It locked onto Dee in a split second and let out a bloodcurdling shriek. Dee cursed and sprinted to the driver’s door. Within seconds the creature barrelled into her, knocking her into a garden. She braced herself for the beast to start tearing her flesh, but no pain came. No snarls. No shrieks. No agony.

Dee shook her head and brought the machete up, looking for the beast. It lay slumped on the grass verge with what looked like an arrow sticking out of its head.

Dee took a step back when she saw a man dressed in black army fatigues and holding a bow walking towards her. He gestured with his head to get into the vehicle, and held the door open for her. Without a word, Dee slid into the passenger seat. The mystery man started up the car and pulled away.

Only once they were several blocks away did he speak. “Where to?”

“Sorry?”

“Where do you want me to drop you and the kids off?”

Dee glanced back at the kids huddled in the back seat. “Can you take these kids to Claudelands?”

“To the evac site?”

“Yes,” Dee said. “They’re not mine. Please make sure they are safe.”

“What about you?”

“Turn right here. My house is not far.”

“You should evacuate too. It’s only going to get worse.”

“Thank you. But I’m not going anywhere without Jack.”

“Fair enough,” Mystery-man said. “Crazy, but your funeral.”

“What about you?” Dee said, raising her eyebrow.

The man glanced out the window, at the houses lying dark and silent. Cars abandoned.

“I don’t play well with others. Best if I’m on my own.”

Dee held out her hand. “Dee.”

The man shook it. “Jimmy.”

“Thank you for saving us back there, Jimmy,” Dee said. “Can I trust these kids into your care.”

Jimmy turned and looked Dee in the eye. Dee saw a jagged scar on his cheek, running from his eye to his jawline. He reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a leather wallet and handed it to Dee.

She flipped it open and smiled. Jimmy was a police detective. Homicide division.

“Don’t worry, Dee. I’ll get the kids to the evac site.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Dee let her misgivings go. After that incident back when she’d been a teenager, she’d been wary of people, finding it difficult to trust anyone.

For the first time since she had left Rachel, Dee had hope as she directed Jimmy to her house. After waving the kids off, she bolted the door behind her and ran through the house checking all the windows were latched, though she doubted even those would hold the creatures out if they came. If the virus turned every infected person into one of those beasts, then everyone was doomed.

Dee glanced at the internal door that led down into the basement and garage. She would move down there tomorrow, but not before using the last of the hot water on a shower.

Grabbing her katana from above the fireplace, she headed to the bathroom. Tears flowed and quickly became sobs as memories of Rachel dying flicked through her mind.