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.