Designated (Book 2): Designated Quarantined (35 page)

'About bloody time too, love; we are bingo on ammo and down to pistol and knives. Hurry the hell up. We have almost five hundred people here; we cannot wait much longer.'
 

The line crackled again as her honeyed words once more bathed his shattered nerves in a comforting salve.
 

'I know, John; we're on our way. Sit tight.'
 

Tossing his now empty pistol at an onrushing Infected, Davies drew his knife, the matte-black blade sitting comfortingly in his hand as he hunkered low and braced for what was to come.
 

'What a fucking day.'
 

****
 

Clarkenwell and Hamilton glanced at one another as they drew their reserves, the sharp rasp of automatic fire drawing Clarkenwell's gaze as Hamilton aimed the P90 into the swollen wall of Infected, a dark smile rolling across his features as he dragged the Browning from its holster on his thigh.
 

'We ain't walking out of this one, are we, dude?'
 

Hamilton shook his head. 'Nope.'
 

Clarkenwell shrugged. 'Oh well... today's as good as any!'
 

His reply dripped in resigned finality as he kicked out, his booted foot sending an Infected woman sprawling as she flailed, her yowling form landing in a crumpled heap on the other side of the barrier as Hamilton silenced her forever.
 

****
 

Baxter looked around him; smoking barrels hung silent and limp as he hauled himself from the gunner's pit atop the land rover. He was alone now; the two Marines left with him were long dead. Their screams echoed in his head. As he leapt, hands scraped at his legs as he crashed onto the roof of a Marauder, his feet scrapping at the back door of the vehicle as he dragged his weary form towards the waiting machine gun.
 

The air was bitter with stagnant tang of gunpowder and smoke. A heavy, laboured sigh left him as he dragged a dead Marine from the seat, a thick rebar spear lodged in the Marine's throat.

He'd already been bitten three times, the little finger missing from his left hand and the thick pulsing wounds in his right calf sending snaking bolts of pain through him; he knew it was only a matter of time before he succumbed. The pain in the back of his skull made his vision blur and twist as he dropped into the seat, feeding a new belt into the weapon as he swung it to aim. The sights danced as he struggled to focus, but until his body gave in and he finally was overrun by the virus, he was going to do his utmost to stop the Infected and he had over five hundred reasons to do so.
 

With a heavy pain-filled grunt, Baxter racked the bolt and fired, the blinding thunder of the weapon filling his ears.
 

****
 

Davies cast his eyes about him. He knew the defence was failing; point Delta was all but done for. He listened to the screams and cries of pain as, one after another, men fell to the horde pressing down upon them. Wiping sweat from his eyes, John stabbed forwards, his blade slicing deep into the soft flesh of an Infected's neck.
 

Knives, fists, feet all rose and fell like cleavers in a butcher's shop as they hacked the Infected apart, blood and flesh peeling away like paper soaking them all to the core.
 

As the sun dropped, its glowing yellow form losing the battle to darkness, the air began to tremble, its cold and bitter form broken by the rhythmic thump of the twin rotors of a dozen CH-47 Chinooks. Their hatches lowered as gunners began to fire, the mounted mini guns cutting swathes through the tide of Infected.
 

The first one landed in a swirl of air and dust, suited forms leaping free as men and women jumped from the side doors of the gargantuan airlift platforms, their weapons up and firing before their boots touched the ground.
 

'Corridor now, haul what you got, get them to the choppers.'
 

Davies' hoarse cry drowned the night as he turned and ushered the people to the safety of the waiting helicopters. As he turned, a blood-soaked set of teeth clamped down on his shoulder driving deep into his suit-covered flesh.
 

'Son of a ...'
 

Anger and sorrow filled him as he drove his blade down through the top of the Infected's head.
 

'Well, I'm screwed!'
 

Heat filled his shoulder as he looked to Bridge for a reply, but all he saw was a pair of booted feet being dragged away into the writhing amalgamation of flesh around them.
 

'
God damn it
!'
 

John turned once more to see Reiley, battered and bleeding sprinting towards him, carrying a ten-year-old boy. Blood-covered welts covered Reiley's neck and side, the thick gouges oozing crimson as he charged through the snatching hands and snapping teeth, sheer fanatical determination blazing in his eyes as he ran.
 

Stumbling, he threw the boy at Davies as he turned and went down on his back, pistol firing even as he was enveloped by the slathering beasts around him.
 

Shaking and scared, the boy clutched on to Davies' vest as he stared at the deep dents in the thick straps covering John's shoulder.
 

'Come on, kid off with ye. The rescue's here.'
 

He lowered the boy to the floor and shoved him away as gloved hands wrapped themselves through the boy's shirt. Davies nodded at the armoured woman as he kicked back an Infected, its scarlet-covered fingers snatching at the child.
 

Hamilton and Clarkenwell moved simultaneously, weapons blazing as they sprinted to the helicopters.
 

'Boss, the flank's gone; we couldn't hold it any longer, we lost—shit—we lost near everyone.'
 

Davies nodded; his eyes glowed with rage and regret. 'Get your arses on that chopper now. Go on, both of you; I want an escort with these people. Go.'
 

The two men looked at one another. 'But—' The question left them almost simultaneously.

Cutting their arguments off at the head, Davies yanked down his collar to reveal the red-tinged flesh covering his neck and collarbone.
 

Hamilton opened his mouth to speak, his words dying on his lips as Davies glared at him. One the two men moved the helicopter teams, cutting a path to them as they followed on after the receding column of refugees.
 

Limping and weary, Baxter made it to Davies' side, his eyes shining with fever-tinged rage as he drove a fist into the face of a snarling teenage girl, her teeth collapsing over the armoured knuckled of his glove.
 

Davies cast an eye over him as he hacked and slashed, his shoulder screaming in pain as the flesh throbbed. A fist drove into the side of head, his eyes bursting with white shimmering light as he blacked out for a hint of a second. Staggering, he fell hard into the thick lip of a concrete barrier, his eyes widening in pain as he felt a rib crack.
 

'Fucking bastard.'
 

His blade flared up as he lifted the Infected from its feet, red blood-crazed eyes rolling upwards, blood fountaining from its lips as Davies kicked him away.
 

Back-to-back, the men stood, blades raised as the horde closed in. Hands and teeth grabbed at them as they hacked and slashed, buying the last few moments for the helicopters to take off.
 

Baxter's leg gave out as he was slammed into from the left. Tumbling, he caught John's eye and winked. Glancing at Baxter's outstretched hand, he saw the pins from David's last few grenades hanging from a bootlace. He threw himself sideways as they detonated, blasting shrapnel and body parts in all directions.
 

Winded and dazed, Davies struggled to his feet and turned once more to see a Bell 212 touch down behind him. Staggering to it, he threw himself into the cargo bay as the helicopter began to rise once more.
 

'Anyone else left, John?' Baker shouted down at Davies as the roar of the wind drowned out anything else.

Davies shook his head as he dragged the side door closed. John forced himself into a sitting position, wincing as he sucked in a breath that tasted of glass and blood.
 

'Civvies got out, but we got chewed to pieces, Cherry. I sent Clarkenwell and Hamilton off as escort with the survivors. Everyone else is… well…'
 

He dragged down his collar and showed Baker the livid red flesh of his neck, Derek's brow furrowed as he stared at the darkening bruise in the centre of his collarbone.
 

'Everyone else is what?'
 

Davies stared at him, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the confusion in Bakers eyes. 'Infected, you dick. Can't you see it?'
 

Baker nodded, his eyes lightening as he set a hand on Davies' shoulder, squeezing tightly. 'Yeah, I can. I can see a damned lucky son of a bitch and a bruise that'll last a week.'
 

Derek keyed in the camera feed from the small high-resolution camera on the side of his helmet and held out his arm as he pulled the camera carefully from the mount. John stared at the dust-and-grit-covered screen as a wall of tear-filled relief flooded through him. The livid purpling bruise was slowly darkening as he stared at the flickering image on Derek's arm.
 

Baker smiled as Davies choked back a sob, his relief and heartache fighting for control as he slumped against the door of the helicopter.
 

'Oh, thank Christ. Dear sweet Jesus, thank you!'
 

The others around him smiled as they watched Davies lean his head against his knees, shoulders shaking as fatigue and sorrow crashed free.
 

Turning back to face the others, Derek snapped the camera back into place, a sad smile playing across his lips as the chopper dropped into a clean silence. No one moved. No one said a word, even as the deathly quiet was broken by John's softened sobs.
 

Closing his eyes, Baker sighed and let his mind slip slightly before he took in a slow steadying breath and looked at the others, cinching the strap under his chin tighter he spoke. 'Well, boys, we've got a job to do.'
 

Then men nodded, settled determination in the faces of them all.

'Woodrow and the rest of the R.R.T are still out there as well as the other teams; we are not losing any more, you hear me?'
 

The men nodded again. A small smile emanated from Baker as his ear bead chirped, sending a ripple down his spine and making his skin crawl at the familiar four-beat burst of sound that sparked a lifetime of bad dreams. The voice that crawled down his ear made bile rise to his gullet as it oozed over him.
 

'Hello, Derek, so glad you could enjoy the fruits of my labour. Your wife is enjoying my hospitality as we speak, as is your daughter. Lovely girl, by the way… so ripe, so sweet; does she know life's tender affections? She is, after all, only a budding rose.'
 

Baker's eyes flared as he listened to the cold, sickening tones tickle at his mind, his jaw spasming as he clenched his teeth.
 

'And the earliest blooms do smell so sweet. Shall I let them know you're coming or am I going to be keeping them company tonight?'
 

Baker's eyes glowed as he stared ahead of him. 'You touch them, and I swear, by all that is holy and pure in this world, I will kill you. If you run, I will find you. I will hunt you down and visit upon you tenfold all that you've done to them.'
 

He heard the smirk slip across Ridgmont's lips as he waited for a reply. 'I look forward to it. Ta ta. Oh you probably want to know where we are. Well, we're where life began and the world ended.'

27
St Mary's Hospital
Paddington
 

Six hours earlier.

Janet cuffed the sweat from her forehead as she pushed the door open to the operating theatre. Kevin Newcroft turned and nodded to her. The fluctuating beep of the heart monitor filled her senses as she made her way towards the table. She lifted the head of the patient and turned it, checking to make sure that this one wasn't Infected.

'You know, Maria was born here.'
 

Kevin chuckled softly as he held the unconscious patient on his side. 'Making small talk while we condemn people to death, nice.'
 

The guard at the door looked on, impassive, detached. Sighing, she looked at Kevin who nodded in agreement, then resigned herself to what was coming next as she motioned to the guard.
 

He stepped forwards, hard-soled boots thumping against the pristine white tiles; the small drain set in the floor was stained a deep russet red, the tiles around it clotted with thickening dried blood and flecks of skin.
 

Small fragments of greying dried bone were stuck in amongst the rivers of dead brain tissue; like icebergs in an ocean, they sat locked and unmoving. The guard looked down at the man, his darkened grey eyes locking with those below him. The lifeless brown orbs gazing up at him accusingly as if the man knew what was awaiting him, the soft snap of the pop stud echoed around the room as the officer began to draw his pistol.
 

The muffled padded rasp slowly rose to a roar as he pulled the Glock 26 from its holster and levelled the nine-millimetre pistol to the man's forehead, his finger curling tighter as he squeezed the trigger.
 

The heavy muffled pop made Kevin flinch as the weapon's silencer drank in the sound of the gunshot.
 

Stooping into a crouch, he bent and plucked the rapidly cooling brass casing from the floor and dropped it into a bin beside the bench as an orderly wheeled the trolley away.
 

'I am sorry you have to do this.' Janet didn't know what else to say to the man, he was quiet, efficient and effective; the Sco19 officer just nodded and resumed his station snapping the catch closed on his sidearm.
 

Screams erupted in the corridor, drawing their attention. All eyes fell to the door as a bloody, mangled corpse was thrown in through them, sending the plastic-coated slabs of fireproofed wood into the tiled wall. The body slid to a stop at Janet's feet as its owner followed in its wake.
 

The screaming blood-drenched ghoul stood in the doorway, its eyes wide, filled with the primal lust only a truly shattered mind can conjure. Its gaze flickered left and right, the tangled strings of sinew and flesh that hung from its glistening maw swayed in the onrushing air as it gasped and wheezed. With a feral glare, its gaze travelled from person to person, seemingly evaluating each one in turn.
 

The Sco19 officer snapped off the catch to his holster, drawing the beast's attention.
 

'You take this.' He pointed at Kevin. 'Take the doctor and go. I'll deal with this.'
 

Janet stared, shock and fear piling high as she momentarily froze, Derek's voice filling her head as she stared at the feral form standing in the doorway.
 

'We have to go; we...we... have to go.'
 

Her gaze pivoted from Kevin to the officer and back again as her mind screamed at her to move. Kevin snatched the slim slip of plastic from the officer's hand and clamped his arms around Janet, dragging her to the door as they fled the room. Its head cocked to one side as its gaze fell upon the officer. The tight blood-drenched lips slid back, skinning away from its teeth in a vicious grin, the room blurred in a flash of movement and flailing limbs as it howled, launching itself bodily at the stoic officer.
 

He snapped the pistol upwards, his body dancing through the long practised motions as he quickly but gently squeezed the trigger. The round went wide as the Infected impacted with him, sending him sprawling backwards, a deep cavern of flesh opening up along the side of the man's sore-encrusted face.
 

With a guttural growl of anger, he lunged forwards. The bloody flesh-encrusted teeth snapped at the officer's face as he pushed it back, his forearm pressing hard against the soft brittle cartilage of the snarling creature's oesophagus.
 

A deep sickening crackle echoed up from the Infected's throat as its windpipe was crushed under its own weight. Flesh and cartilage folded as it raked its raw, bloodied, and torn fingers over the compressed ballistics vest of the officer's uniform. The sickening scrape of wet flesh over the thick webbing straps was heavy in the officer's ears as he brought the pistol to bear on the daemonic creature so intent on tearing the life from him.
 

Forcing it back with a heavy shove, he brought the iron sights of his sidearm to line as the Infected lunged once more. His gun spat hot molten death as the distance closed, the bullet tearing into the beast's head as it continued its descent. The back of the Infected man's skull exploded in a shower of shattered bone and brain matter, arcing out in a glistening spray. The blood shimmered like diamonds as the destroyed pieces of flesh pattered to the ground like wet wool.
 

Jaws snapping, reflex taking hold as the shattered remnants of its mind tried desperately to keep the rapidly quieting form below it from falling silent forever. The body landed with a thud on top of the officer as he turned his head, feeling the warm almost gentle patter of cascading blood and cranial fluid over his skin. With a deep grunt, he heaved the body off of himself sending it rolling into the cold steel of the table as he levered himself to his feet.
 

The screams of women, children, and men mingled into a pulsating wall of primal anguish and fear that settled over his mind like a cloying vapour sucking the air from him as it sought to extinguish the guttering candle that was his sanity. Snorting in disgust, he pushed himself to his feet and followed the fleeing doctor. His head thumped like a drum as he staggered into the corridor, the sounds of echoing footsteps clattering off the walls around him as he stared at the carnage that painted the hall.
 

The corridor was a maelstrom of death and terror as a mass of Infected flooded through the hospital, filling the hallway like a wave of churning water, sweeping up all in their path as they flowed over the weak and fearful, engulfing them whole.
 

Gritting his teeth, the Sco19 officer raised his sidearm and shot the six Infected nearest to him as he began to run down the corridor. Violent, rage-laced screams filled his ears as their cries cascaded through him, their ululating waves buffeting his mind as he screwed his eyes shut, willing them away.
 

Tears filled him as he ducked his head, raising his arm as he crashed through a set of double doors. The echoing crash drew out the already bloated and overfed malcontents that seeped from the very walls around him.
 

A lancing arrow of heat and pain filled the officer's lower back as his knees buckled, sending him sprawling into the corner of the nurses' station. He opened his mouth to scream, his voice choked and vapid as his chest heaved, his lungs paling under the impact as he careened off the reinforced plastic desktop. He rolled on to his back as the lights above him swirled and twisted. A deep feral chuckle filled his ears as he tried in vain to push himself upright.
 

'Ah, ain't that a shame; poor little piggy fell down and can't get up.'
 

The officer's eyes dipped in and out of focus as he watched the shadowy form fill his vision. A metallic clang filled his ears as the stench of blood and wet meat soaked into his nose as it leant close to his face, the tongue lolling free, tracing its way along his cheek.
 

'Good thing I like fresh bacon, ain't it, piggy? Let's see if we can make this one squeal.'
 

A sudden bolt of cold filled his shoulder, his body tensing as he felt his flesh peel apart. Steel grated against bone, sending searing barbs rippling through him as he screamed, his voice cascading across the walls and ceiling as he thrashed against the weight on his chest.
 

'Good piggy. I liked that; now let's see if we can soften you up a bit.'
 

Feet and fists descended, battering his head and shoulders as the officer raised his arms, his shoulder screaming as the wound flexed and twisted. The flesh rolling and sloughing apart like over-cooked beef as the white splinters of chipped bone wormed their way through the sodden, weeping mass of torn fat and muscle.
 

Pain filled him as he felt the fists collide with the side of his head, his eyes dancing with shimmering lights as he slipped in and out consciousness, the torrent of blows slowly drawing the life from him.
 

'Aww is the little piggy falling asleep? Well, we can't have that, can we?'
 

The Infected reached forwards, peeling the officer's eyelids up away from his eyes. He stared into the dilated, unfocused eyes, their orbs twitching as his brain began to slowly shut down. The scarlet vessels crisscrossing his whites like crimson spaghetti. Reaching forwards with one blood-encrusted split nail, the Infected slowly dragged it over the slimy film coating the officer's twitching orb, pressing down into the fibrous muscles that ringed the bruised socket, feeling each strand tremble and flick as he dragged the split and chipped nail deeper pushing forwards, his digit sinking into the soft malleable flesh.
 

A grin split the Infected's countenance as he watched the officer's face contort and twist below him, his thrashing form bucking against the savage being's weight as he curled his finger, slowly drawing the police officer's eye from its socket.
 

Blood flowed over his fingers, the glistening strands of the officer's optical nerve stretching as the man continued to thrash. A liquid-filled gargle rose from him as his torturer cackled. Driving a fist into the side of his throat, the Infected watched him gasp and convulse as his head was lifted from the floor, the officer's mouth foaming as he tried in vain to give voice to the agony coursing through his skull.
 

'Exquisite, isn't it, piggy? Let's see if you taste as good as you look; I hope you do.'

Lowering his head, mouth opening as he pulled the eye closer to his saliva-coated lips. His tongue flicked forth tracing over the filmy cornea as he slid his teeth over it. With infinite care, he dragged his teeth over it the thick film folding over his tongue as he pulled the creamy sphere from between his lips. A wave of euphoria rolled through him as he swallowed, the silk-like disc sliding down his throat. As he dragged the eye free, the elastic snap of the officer's optical nerve made him shiver as he opened his mouth once more, letting the milk-white ball roll across his tongue as he bit down, the thick creamy vitreous gel jetting free as he chewed; he shivered as he felt it swirl, the taste of its cool water oozed down his throat.
 

****
 

Glancing back behind him, a wave of terror washed over him as he saw the deranged faces only meters behind them. Heaving and gasping for breath, they reached the door, Kevin screaming at the black-clad officer as he turned to drag it closed.
 

'Glad you heard me.'
 

The officer nodded as he breathlessly pointed to the corridor to the left. 'Down there is the in-house armoury. Get to it and grab a gun. There are emergency exit doors in the back wall of the room.
 

'Go and I'll hold here, one of the fucking bastards stuck me with fuck knows what before I made it in here; may as well do some good before I end up going all Hannibal Lecter.'
 

Kevin jogged, the officer's elbow drawing his attention for a moment as he held up the slim square of plastic the other officer had handed him minutes earlier.
 

A small smile flickered across the man's features as he plucked it from Kevin's grip and slipped it into a small box next to a computer. The clicking of keys filled the air as he glanced at Janet.
 

'You two need to get out of here; tell the others what's coming. No one is prepared for a crash like this. Those things are everywhere. I saw eight of my guys go down in seconds; they just don't stop. Before, they would freak at the sight of a gun, but now, they just keep coming. I have taken down suicide bombers and fanatical jihadists; even they, after a while, saw sense and gave up, if they didn't make you shoot them first. But these things, I haven't seen anything like it. If you don't go now, well...'
 

He winced, clasping his side as he plucked the card from the reader. Janet opened her mouth to protest as the officer pulled his hand away, revealing what she feared the most; the dark viscous paste that covered his hands told her all she needed to know. Any heated protestation died on her lips as she cast her eyes down, hiding the salt brine tears that welled up, their shimmering trails running down her cheeks as she spoke, her words quivering on her lips.