Something of the Night (7 page)

“Fuck you!”
Alice
cried,
and squeezed the trigger.

Suddenly, the wolf possessed
a third scarlet eye, directly in the middle of the first two. Dropping over
Squirrel, the beast shuddered once, and then lay still.
Alice
helped
pull the mechanic from under the slain beast. “Can you walk?” she asked.

“Just try and stop me.”

“Let’s hurry. We need to get
inside.” She tucked the pistol into her waistband, then bent and snatched up
the shotgun. Next, she took hold of Squirrel’s arm and began to lead him up the
steps.

“Wait!” the mechanic said.
“What about Scratch?”

“He’s gone,”
Alice
replied.

“No, I heard him bark. After
the wolf had taken him. He might still be alive,” Squirrel said, trying to
convince her.

“Then he’ll have to take care
of himself. Now come on,”
Alice
ordered.

She pulled at his arm,
somehow managing to drag the distraught mechanic up the steps towards the front
of the jailhouse. She slammed her shoulder against the entrance in an attempt
to gain access. The door was shut tight. From behind, the howls grew ever
closer. Numerous outlines began to take shape.

“Shit, hurry,” Squirrel
urged.

Alice
tried the door for a second time, pulling and pushing
against the handle. “I don’t understand. The door should open easily.”

“Here, let me,” Squirrel
said.

He hopped onto one foot, took
position in front of the door, and then launched his greater bulk towards the
obstruction. However, just as he was about to connect with it, the door
unexpectedly opened. A figure appeared at the threshold. The figure
sidestepped, which allowed Squirrel to stumble past. With a crash, the mechanic
fell heavily onto his face.

Alice
had a second to be shocked by the unexpected
appearance. One of the figure’s hands shot out, taking the shotgun. A second
hand lunged out, but this one grabbed a handful of her jacket. And with ease
she was pulled into the safety of the jailhouse.

***

The wolf continued to work itself into darkness, with
the warm prize clamped between its jaws. At first the small dog had wiggled and
squirmed as it had tried to break free, but eventually it had ceased to
struggle and now lay limp and lifeless.

The wolf found a quiet spot
before dropping onto its haunches. Its jaws opened and the terrier rolled onto
the earth. The wolf licked its muzzle. With a deep rumble from its belly, the
beast opened its jaws, intent on beginning its feast. The wolf’s ears twitched
abruptly. Something had moved in the undergrowth nearby.

A twig snapped directly
behind.

The beast jumped to its feet
and twisted in the direction of the noise. Another rustle of movement came from
the left. Thinking its prey was in danger of being snatched away, the wolf
began to dig a hole in the earth. It dug the soil up and quickly produced a
small pit. Its muzzle lifted and the wolf sniffed at the air. Caught on the
night breeze was the rank odour of one of its brethren. Realising its prize
could be taken at any moment, the beast turned back to bury the mutt in the
pit.

But the little terrier had
vanished.

Chapter Eleven

Situated around the large wooden table were the
underground’s leaders and most prominent figures. At the head of the table sat
Major Patterson, all anger and irritation. Directly to his left was the empty
chair that Jacob had just vacated, and opposite that sat Father, his arms
hidden within the folds of his robes. Captain John Banantyne was seated next to
the holy man, and facing him across the table was two of his trusted
lieutenants, Samuel Farr and Kate Hutson. At the centre of the table were the
Harper brothers, silently watching the heated exchange before them.

Major Patterson shook his
head with dismay. “Are you sure?”

Jacob Cain nodded.

“Damn!” Patterson snapped.

Jacob moved around the table.
“Don’t worry, they can’t have gone far.”

“They were fools. We should
leave them to their fate. I’m not willing to risk any of my men,” Captain John
Banantyne said, puffing out his chest subconsciously.

“That’s okay. Leave it to me,
as always,” Jacob retorted bitterly. He moved over to his two nephews.

“Jacob, wait,” Patterson
said. He stood and joined the older tracker. “Captain Banantyne’s right. We
just can’t risk the loss of anyone else, which includes you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not leaving anyone out
there,” Jacob stated.

“But we need to start coordinating
our offensive against Ezekiel, and we need every able body here to help,” the
Major explained.

“I’ll be back before you know
it.”

“It’s too dangerous. Ezekiel
sends more and more scouting parties south. If you get intercepted, then that
could lead them right here,” Patterson pointed out.

“Don’t worry, that won’t
happen.”

Captain Banantyne joined the
two men. “It won’t happen because you’re not going, and that’s the end of it.”

Jacob and Banantyne locked
eyes:
Flint
grey stared into muddy brown. A moment of genuine hatred passed
between the two men before the captain was forced to look away.

“I’m not under your control
anymore,
SIR
,” Jacob spat.

“You never were,” Banantyne
remarked, referring to Jacob’s long-standing inability to follow direct orders.

“You don’t give orders, you
just make mistakes,” Jacob commented.

The captain fell silent for a
moment before saying, “Jacob, it wasn’t my fault Hannah was … taken.”

“No? Then who ordered us to
attack the fuel depot without first understanding what resistance we’d
encounter?” Jacob asked, rage building inside him.

“We’ve been through this. We
were caught in unexpected crossfire.
I
wasn’t to blame,” Banantyne
muttered.

Major Patterson’s head
dropped momentarily as he remembered the day Captain Banantyne had returned
with half his platoon missing or dead - Hannah included. He gave a weary sigh.
“Okay, the truth is we can’t afford to lose a single man, especially
you
Jacob. But neither can we lose our best mechanic, Squirrel, or our offensive
will end real abruptly if all our transports fail.”

“So what do you propose?”
Jacob asked.

“That Captain Banantyne leads
the rescue, if they’re still alive to be rescued,” the Major said.

“Sir, that’s ridiculous!”
Banantyne spat. “We need my men as keenly as we do him.” His eyes rested on
Jacob’s weathered features.

The Major focused on his
subordinate. “Don’t worry, Jacob’s going too.”

“What?” Jacob asked,
open-mouthed.

“It’s time you two ended this
feud of yours. I need you both to start working together if we’ve any chance of
defeating Ezekiel, and now’s a good time to begin. Captain, you and Jacob will
take two men only. You’ll go on foot, so Jacob will lead the way. Once you find
them, and if they’re still … pure, I want Jacob to pull back and you’ll
coordinate the extraction.”

“But if we meet heavy
resistance?” the captain asked.

“If you feel you’re likely to
be outnumbered then I want you all to pull back,” Patterson stated.

“But what about Squirrel and
Alice
?” Elliot
asked.

Patterson turned towards the
older brother. “If they’re already captured or undergoing the change, then it’s
too late for them.” He paused momentarily, as his next comment struggled to
form itself. “Elliot, you’ll make the third man. If they have already been
changed, then it’s your job to get in close enough to take them out.”

“Take them out?” Elliot
questioned.

“Alice Hammond and the
mechanic, Squirrel,” Patterson said, forlornly.

“What?”

“We can’t allow them to
compromise the location of this base, so I need you to make sure they don’t,”
Patterson said. “That’s why I’m allowing this mission to go ahead. If they have
fallen into enemy hands then we’re all at risk. Elliot, I’m aware you’re close
to
Alice
but you’re also the best marksman here, and if anyone can get in close
enough to deal with the situation, then it’s you.”

“Deal with the situation …”
Elliot mumbled.

“Son,” Patterson began, “we
can’t afford for one of those bastards to get in here. You understand that,
don’t you?”

Elliot’s head dropped. “Yeah,
I understand.”

Jacob reached over to place
his hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

Daniel Harper stood and
joined his brother. “Okay, what are we waiting for?”

Patterson shook his head.
“Not you Daniel. I need you here.”

A fleeting look of anger
fixed itself to the younger brother’s face. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“You’re gonna have to sit
this one out,” Patterson said. “I need you elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“I’ll explain later,” the
Major replied. He turned to Captain Banantyne. “Pick your final man then move
out immediately.”

Banantyne’s hand snapped out
a stiff salute
“SIR!”
The hand dropped to his side and he looked towards
the table. “Lieutenant Hutson, come with me.”

The young brown-haired woman
stood and joined her superior.

The party of four was now complete.

“Okay, let’s go,” Jacob Cain
said.

Chapter Twelve

The flatbed truck worked its way through the dark
forest. A group of human refugees sat huddled together in the rear, desperately
trying to stay warm, the wind about them snapping at bare skin with icy teeth.
The engine roared and gears ground together as it struggled to carry its load. With
a shifting of gears the truck rolled to an abrupt halt.

A squeal of rusty hinges
sounded. The driver opened his door and climbed out. He dropped down from the
cabin. He bent against the wind, and then quickly made his way towards a nearby
tree. His hand closed around a protruding nodule. With a twist of his wrist he
turned the knob clockwise. Then the driver returned to the truck. The
oppressive darkness pushed heavily against his back until he had reached the
safety of the truck. He climbed inside, shutting the door quickly, in an
attempt to hold the night and all its horrors at bay.

A few seconds passed before
an audible hiss of compressed air sounded from underneath the truck. The
vehicle dropped suddenly forwards as the ground around it began to tilt away.
Huge pistons hissed with expelled pressure as the mechanical platform dropped
the vehicle and its occupants into the earth. Within moments the truck had
disappeared underground.

The driver switched on the
headlights to reveal a huge cavern. After a slow descent the ramp reached the
carved rock. The driver popped the truck into gear and then drove off the
platform. Once the back wheels had cleared the ramp, the platform began to
ascend. Within minutes the slab of rock had sealed the hole above. The engine
cut and the cavern dropped into an eerie silence.

Six bedraggled figures
climbed down from the back of the truck. Five out of the six were male. A
single female stood just to the side of the main group. After a moment’s pause,
three figures approached the group from the opposite end of the loading bay.
Their footfalls echoed loudly throughout the cavern.

As the three approached, the newly
arrived woman carefully examined each individually. The person to the right was
an overweight, middle-aged man. A dark beard covered the lower half of his
face. Dressed in black robes, he was clearly a man of religion. The figure
flanking the left was half the holy man’s age, handsome, and walked with an
aura of self-assured confidence. In his hands, he carried a lethal looking
machinegun. The woman turned her attention to the central figure. Dressed in a
worn-out army uniform, he walked with authority and was obviously the leader of
the small party. The woman allowed a brief grin to brush itself against her
lips.

Major Patterson reached the
bedraggled group first. “Welcome home,” he said, spreading his hands.

Most of the people before him
shifted awkwardly as they fell under his steely gaze. Yet, as he looked upon
the woman, he was met with a friendly nod. His weathered face folded itself
into a warm smile.

His face, however, then turned
into a mask of surprise when the woman sprung suddenly forwards.

The woman reached out with
both hands. She lunged towards Major Patterson. Her hands fell short, though,
and she collapsed instead to the floor. There, she began to twitch and thrash
on the rocky surface. For a second nobody moved. Surprised by the unexpected
movement.

Father looked at the flutter
of eyelids. “She’s having a fit.”

One of the newcomers moved to
help.

“Hold it!” Daniel commanded,
raising his machinegun threateningly.

The would-be helper stopped
dead.

“Back in line,” Daniel
ordered, stepping forwards to cover Major Patterson.

Once Daniel had the small
group held back, Father dropped to his knees before placing his hand to the
woman’s face. “She’s cold,” he said. He reached over and tried to hold her
steady. Her arms thrashed wildly about. After a brief struggle, her hands
became entangled in the folds of his robe. “Easy … easy …” he calmed. The
woman’s body relaxed and eventually she went still.

“That’s it. Good,” Father
soothed. His hand returned to her face. He felt a mask of cold and clammy skin
beneath his fingertips. “I think she’s suffering from hypothermia.”

“Then hurry with the test,
and get her to the infirmary,” Patterson said.

“Okay,” Father acknowledged.

He reached into his robe and
retrieved a small vial of clear liquid. Pulling the stopper from the glass
vial, he quickly poured a couple of drops onto his fingers. Then, he placed his
fingertips on the woman’s forehead and traced the shape of a crucifix across
the smooth skin of her brow. As his fingers moved in two straight lines, first
horizontally, then vertically, he muttered a barely audible incantation. Once
he had finished his bizarre ritual, he stood and said, “Okay, she’s clean.” He
moved over to the first person in line. He repeated the test a further five
times, then returned to Daniel’s side, replacing the now empty vial of holy
water in his pocket.

“They’re clear, all of them,”
he said.

Daniel dropped the machinegun
to his side. He took a step away from the Major and moved over to the guy who
had tried to help. “Sorry, brother,” he apologised. “But we need to be sure
you’re all clean.”

The aging newcomer nodded to
Daniel. “I understand,” he responded. With a shift of his chin, he pointed
towards the woman. “May I?”

“Yeah – fine,” Daniel said.

The man moved away from the
rest of the group, bent over the woman and placed his fingers against her
throat. “Her pulse is steady, but weak. We need to get her warm, and quick. If
we don’t hurry she could go into complete shutdown.” Seeing the surprise on
their faces, the newcomer said, “I’m a doctor.” He paused for a second,
thoughtful. “Well, I used to be a doctor before all … this.” His eyes roamed
from one desperate face to the next. He shook his head as if trying to conjure
up a picture of better times.