The Rule of Three

— 26 —

Jack fought against the strong undertow and currents. He kicked to the surface, pulling George with him. He cradled the child in a lifesaver’s embrace and gulped for air. With the added weight of George, Jack realised that his backpack had to go. Grunting with the effort he managed to slip off one strap, then the other. Finally the pack slid from his shoulders. He watched as it bobbed in the swirling river and the current swept it away towards 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 of the river, 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 and leaping over rocks as if they weren’t there.

Jack kicked hard, willing the current to move him down the river faster. The sun was getting high in the sky now. He hoped it would force the monsters back to their nest. As he floated, the creatures continued their relentless pursuit, screeching at him. 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 forget the sight of the two decaying children’s heads displayed, jiggling with the beast’s every movement.

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. 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, he could still see the limestone cliffs soaring high. At the bottom, 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 towards 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, so he was thankful it had been waiting. Cold water dripped off his head, splattering onto the mud. Jack was having trouble focussing on his immediate surroundings. He realised the last few days were taking their toll. Wiping river water from his eyes, he crawled under the mess of roots. Exhausted, he leaned up against the tree and took a few deep breaths.

George sat panting, his eyes flicking around.

“It’s okay, George,” Jack said. “We’re going to hide for a while.”

Jack looked down at the thick mud coating his legs and arms and smiled. He could just hear Dee laugh at him and say. “You and your movies.”

He scooped up handfuls of mud and started to coat George with it. “Sorry, buddy. I know it’s cold and gross, but we need to hide from the monsters.”

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.

They had achieved the impossible: they had escaped hell.

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 readied him for the horrors that hunted him now. He had always been a keen outdoors type and had learned 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 without incident. 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.

Branches behind Jack snapped as the creatures shrieked and howled around him. Answering howls joined the monsters as they ran up and down the river hunting for their lost prey. Jack glanced down at George who had his knees tucked under him and eyes clenched shut. Jack prayed for his mud trick to work. It was all he had left. He had no weapons apart from the machete. If the creatures did find them, he figured he could maybe kill one; at a stretch, two.

The closest monster let out a screech, its pitch deafening. Jack held George’s hand tight as the mud-covered kid snuggled into him, shaking. Closer now, the screeching intensified. Jack struggled to keep himself from shaking.

Go away… go away… go away…

A howl right above him nearly made him jump 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 towards 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 towards the nest.

Holding a trembling George, Jack rocked the boy 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 Jack’s chest.

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

Has the whole world gone mad?