Designated (Book 2): Designated Quarantined (38 page)

Janet spun, dragging Siobhan with her, shielding Maria from the cacophony that washed over them. Kevin stood watching, his eyes wide and jaw slack as he soaked in the utter and inescapable devastation. Bile rose in his throat as his eyes alighted on Kirsty. The impish waif glared at him, mouth wide, locked in a feral scream as round after round tore into her.
 

Ropes slapped at brickwork and concrete as other grey-swathed forms dropped into view, weapons chattering as they began to slowly push forwards.
 

Two men broke from the pack, running towards Janet and the others, ropes in hand. One roughly hauled Janet to her feet, forcing the rope around her chest and under her arms. A thick metallic clack sounded behind her head and the soldier snapped the carabiner clip through a quick-release link and tugged at the rope sharply.
 

Janet left the floor with a pain-soaked squeal as the rope bit sharply into her chest. Maria wailed in her grip as she squirmed. The twisting blanket began to slip as Janet fought to keep her daughter in her arms. Bricks and concrete shredded skin from her bare arms as Janet turned her back to the wall, desperate to keep Maria safe.
 

Hands curled into her shirt; rough gloved fingers snagged on her bra straps, dragging the meshed lace into her flesh as she was hauled over the edge of the roof and sent sprawling on her back.
 

The rope slithered under her as Pepper dragged it free, tossing the line back over the edge of the roof without a second thought as Faux hauled Janet to her feet.
 

'You okay?'
 

Janet stood, her mind spinning as she struggled to keep up with the rapidly spiralling scenario that was swirling around her.
 

'Ma'am, are you okay? Is the baby harmed?'
 

Faux reached out, his fingers brushing over Janet's hands as he went to lift Maria from her grip. She moved without hesitation, her mind dropping back on sheer instinct as she spun, her grip sending Faux to his knees as she snarled.
 

'Touch her and I will rip your fucking eyes out.'
 

Michael stared up at the glowing green eyes, feral anger dripping from her as she bent his arm back upon itself; he frantically tapped at her elbow, pain lacing his words as he fought to speak.
 

'Okay, okay! No touching the baby, I get it. Now give me back my arm before you fucking break it!'
 

Kevin crested the wall, his eyes falling on Janet and Faux as he tumbled onto the grit-strewn rooftop. Pushing himself to his feet he ran over and wrested Faux's arm from Janet's grip as he turned the wild-eyed woman to face him.
 

Her eyes flared as she stared at his blood-spattered form, Siobhan tumbling with a panicked grunt to the rooftop as Kevin's hand crashed across Janet's cheek.
 

'Snap the fuck out of it; he just helped save your hide.'
 

Janet's mind reeled as she felt the sting of his hand across her cheek and jaw. Pain lanced through her, flaring the world back into focus… the sound of gunfire, the smell of death rising on the crisp air, the frantic wailing of her own daughter, and the staggered sobs of the survivors who were being hauled from the jaws of death. She turned her gaze to Michael as he slowly pushed himself upright, her eyes watching as he massaged at his wrist.
 

'Sorry.'
 

Janet's words were taut and clipped as Faux batted at the air, his words shaking slightly as he rotated his fist, testing his throbbing wrist. 'Don't worry about it. Now, is she okay?' He nodded towards Maria's still screaming form as Janet began to slowly shush and rock her daughter.
 

'She looks okay; let me look her over.'
 

Faux nodded as he gestured towards the table on the far side of the roof. The hiss of rope through spools made him turn as, one by one, the rest of his comrades were hauled to safety.
 

****
 

The rippling call of the infected soaked the air, taunting calls mixing with the monotonous groans of the simpleton drones that surrounded their pack masters.
 

'They're like wolves.'
 

Shaw cast a glance over at Kevin as he sat, legs dangling over the edge of the roof, his eyes playing back and forth as he watched the undulating horde below them.
 

'The way they move, the fact that you can tell the smarter ones from the simpletons just by looking at them—it's like a wolf pack. An alpha male surrounded by subordinates.'
 

Shaw leant out, looking down at what had so captured Kevin's attention. His gaze locked onto the Alphas almost immediately, their movements fluid as they sent roving groups of Infected off in all directions.
 

'Faux, take position. We've got MVTs down there. Clear 'em out and we should be able to get out on foot without too much trouble.'
 

Faux nodded as he dropped back behind his weapon, the scope nestling in front of his eye as he began drawing out his targets. Shaw once more turned back to Kevin, his face locked in a softly hopeful glaze.
 

'You said you could pick out the Alphas?'
 

Kevin nodded at the question.
 

'Okay then, do it.'
 

Shaw turned to Pepper and motioned to the tripod-mounted scope at the end of Peppers roll mat.
 

'Set him up and knock 'em down. We can't stay up here and wait to die.'
 

Shaw flinched as his ear bead squawked, a harsh burst of static sending a ringing peal through his skull as his coms went dead.
 

'What the fuck was that?'
 

His words were cut short as the sound of rotor blades flooded their air, dust and debris peppering them all as the rooftop erupted in a deluge of wind and grit.
 

'Contact, high!'
 

Janet dragged Maria's blankets over her as black-clad bodies leapt from the hovering helicopter, the static whine of air projectile Tasers hissing as they fired. Bodies dropped, convulsing as electricity coursed through them. Shaw spun, barbed spikes striking his lower back as he began to bring his rifle to bear on the black, faceless shadows that were surrounding them.
 

Janet screamed as a black hood was dragged over her head, the static hiss of multiple shotgun fired AP Tasers mingled with sporadic gunfire as Shaw's team tried in vain stop her capture.
 

'Cargo retrieved, two casualties, zero fatalities.'
 

The words rang hollow in her head as a voice filtered through the thick bag that was slowly smothering her.
 

'Is the child with her?'
 

'Affirmative, mother and child aboard, on exfil to site alpha.'
 

'Very good. Make sure nothing harms her until you get here.'
 

'Roger that, Clipper out.'
 

29
Now
Kingsland Road
Dalston
London
 

Derek stood outside the security door, his hand hovering over the intercom button; his mind was awash with a myriad of contradicting thoughts. The helicopter had dropped him there seven minutes after the Ridgmont's radio message had silenced any and all other directives. His fist curled into a ball as he smashed it into the reinforced glass panel in front of him, the impact echoing up the cold concrete stairway behind the door.
 

'World be damned, no one fucks with my family.'
 

He jammed his thumb against the intercom button, listening to the electric hiss as a buzzer sounded somewhere deep inside the building.
 

Incomprehensibly slurred Russian poured out of the aluminium-fronted speaker, the voice layered in alcohol and self-pity. Baker ground his teeth together as he fought the urge to scream at the disembodied babbling that slithered from the speaker like a lobotomised snake.
 

'Andrey, it's me; I am calling in the debt.'
 

The speaker fell silent for a moment as his words sank through the Vodka-filled haze that surrounded Andrey's mind. An indignant snort greeted Baker's words before Andrey finally replied.
 

'Fuck do I care? World going to shit… who gives a fuck about stupid debts now, huh? Go find someone who gives a shit.'
 

Baker sighed as he leant his helmet-covered head against the door before pressing the speaker button once more, his words soft almost pleading as he spoke.
 

'Andrey, Ridgmont has my wife. He has my daughter; I need your help… please.'
 

A heavy rustling filled the speaker as Derek waited for an answer.
 

'Why didn't you say that in the first place? You Debil, the door is open. I need ten minutes then we go find this Ublyudok and cut his fucking head off.'
 

Derek pushed the door open as the magnetic lock clicked off, the crackling buzz of the alarm filling his ears as he stepped inside, letting the heavy steel and glass slab slip from his fingers. The dull rolling bang of the door hitting the frame filled the stairway as he trudged through the winding spire of concrete and metal towards Andrey's apartment.
 

****
 

Andrey stopped, his chest heaving only slightly as he patted the air with his open hand as he stepped backwards slowly, motioning Baker into a doorway.
 

'Der'mo, Demony.'
 

Baker's eyebrow quirked at the word as he flexed his fingers around the fore grip of his weapon. Andrey didn't once look back as he called Baker forwards, muttering an explanation.
 

'Zarazhennyy...'
 

Sighing at Baker's limited understanding of his language translated, albeit begrudgingly.
 

'Fucking Infected, Glupyy ublyudok.'
 

Baker grunted a reply as he stepped forwards, slowly edging past Andrey towards the edge of the brick porch. Derek's eyes scanned the roadway as he slowly leant forwards.
 

A cold chill ran across the back of his neck as he stared at the throng of Infected that filled the road ahead. He watched in fascinated horror as a woman was dragged from a ground floor window, her legs snagging against the shards of glass as she was yanked across the shattered remains of the windowpane.
 

One Infected girl, a slim teen, her face scarred by the throbbing orbs of distended puss-filled skin, slammed a fist into the side of her head as the girl snarled at her, the woman's screams ending in a petrified yelp. Derek watched the female youth bite deeply into her own lip, blood welling up in the Infected girl's mouth before she pulled the woman to her feet, planting her bloody mouth on the lips of the thrashing woman; her tongue danced across the silken tender piece of flesh of the slowly quieting form wrapped in her arms.
 

The teen's hands roamed across the woman's fear-slicked skin as she deepened the blood-coated embrace, soft moans of compliance worming from the woman locked in the teen's embrace. One gore-streaked hand slid up to cup her bosom as the girl's other petite hand slipped inside the waistband of the woman's running shorts, the sheer fabric morphed over the Infected girl's hand as she dipped it lower, her fingers vanishing between the crevice of the woman's legs.
 

Baker tore his eyes away, his mind dancing with questions to which he had no answer as he listened to howls of the teen and her slew of drones.
 

'What the fuck did I just watch?'
 

Andrey smirked as he stared at the bewildered expression on Derek's face. In a coarse whisper, Andrey replied, his eyes darkening as he stepped deeper into the porch way, silencing himself momentarily as the woman and her teenage leader sprinted past.
 

'That is a whole new problem. I have seen many such as those two. A new generation controlling the last; Anastasia told me of them only today. She has tried to contact you, but communications from base are not working so good at the moment. She took a chance on you coming to find me and told me of the one she had in the lab. Joshua she called him; he was first of new breed… very big Psikhopat.'
 

He watched Baker's eyes narrow as Andrey's words failed him; fumbling in his mind for the correct translation, he fell back on his training and simplified the problem.
 

'Crazy man, loony as toons, as people say.'
 

Baker nodded, a small smile flickering over his lips as he edged back to the corner of the wall and peered out once more, before glancing back at Andrey. The man's matte-black assault webbing stood in stark contrast to his red shirt and silver tie, the finely polished Italian leather shoes and suit trousers lending a very business-like look to the highly trained killer.
 

'Yeah, well, psychos are easy to find these days. All you got to do is point and shoot; you're bound to hit one at some point. Hang on, Andrey—you said
had
. What do you mean
had
?'
 

Shifting his grip on the silenced MP7A1 in his hands, Andrey glanced away as more Infected sprinted past, drawn by the guttural cries of the teen and her 'pack'.
 

'As in he is no longer there, he has split, flown out of the coop, gone bye-bye.'
 

Derek grimaced as he flattened against the wall; a corpulent mound of Infected flesh lopped past, its stomach folds slapping against its boxer-covered thighs as he struggled to keep pace with his rapidly vanishing compatriots.
 

'Fuck it. Okay. We have to move. Can you keep pace with me in those things?'
 

Andrey grinned as he lifted his foot from the floor, revealing the soft Vibrams sole of his shoe and the hidden mesh panels around the arches of his feet.
 

'I may like to look good, my friend, but I also like to stay alive; in my line of business, it is good to combine the two.'
 

Baker smiled humourlessly, his mind turning over the implications of all he had just learned as he crouched and watched the roadway. Lifting his hand away from the fore grip of his rifle, he silently counted down from five before sprinting from the safety of the porch way and diving into the gap between two cars, his knees grinding into the floor as he slid into the gap.
 

Lifting his head above the boot of the car, he looked out through the rear windscreen and side windows as several Infected looked around them, the sudden burst of hurried noise echoing off the walls around. Andrey peered out from the porch as he cautiously glanced between the Infected and Derek, his friend's hunched form pressed tightly to the rear bumper of the Mazda CX5. Baker let his rifle go, the sling tugging against him as his fingers danced and slowly signed out the basics of their next move.

They moved with a purpose, their haste tempered by overt caution as they moved down through the lines of stalled cars and gutted lorries. The still flaming wreckage of a police car pinned under the overturned carcass of a Whitbread delivery truck sent dancing shadows over the walls of the buildings around them.
 

Lathered foam from burst beer barrels and the sticky remnants of sugary alcopops clung to their feet as they crept to the far end of the container. The rippling crackle of drying sugar and shattered glass made both men wince as they prised their boots from the tarmac, the hissing glue-like rasp filling the air as a deathly hush consumed the world.
 

****
 

The muffled pop of weapons fire mingled with the thready screams of pain and fear as they scampered forwards. Their hunched forms searched with weapons raised and eyes pressed tight to the illuminated sights of their weapons as they scanned from window to door. Their sights danced from road to alleyway and back again.
 

Derek gazed at the front of the Co-operative bank, the smoking hulk of the number forty-three bus making him shiver as he stared at the charred and blackened remains of the people caught within its twisted carcass. Shaking his head, he cast his eyes around the intersection the flashing lights of a police car, dazzling him slightly as he watched it race towards them, both men jumping apart as it shot through the space between them. The manic fear-pinched face of the officer behind the wheel snatched at their eyes as he sped onwards, the car swerving wildly as he weaved through the stalled and overturned river of vehicles towards Angel station, smoke rising from the concourse below.
 

'Come on; we have to move. That car is going to bring the whole fucking city down on our heads.'
 

Andrey nodded as they slipped into a lopping trot, their weapons pressed lightly into their shoulders as they continued to watch the unfolding chaos around them.
 

'We make it to King's Cross St Pancras and we can hook up with SAU Three. They should be there… I hope they'll be there; I've lost enough men already.'
 

Andrey stayed silent as they continued to run, Derek's pace quickening as they slipped past Joseph Grimaldi Park, the small patch of green a welcome respite from the world of shattered glass and steel that enshrouded them.
 

****
 

King and Lucas sat, eyes pressed to the rubber cushions of their optics. Kings spotter's scope swung back and forth from target to target. The rampant forms and frantic movements sent a shiver through him. He softly whispered to Lucas as he watched them slowly converge on a bus, the screaming forms within rushing to the centre isle as Infected closed in.
 

The driver cried out in fear as he watched hazy lines spread through the windscreen of his bus, the heavy plastic bin clattering to the floor as it bounced off the thick sheet of shatterproof glass.
 

Lucas watched with stunned fascination as the Infected ceased their onslaught, their writhing forms parting like the Red Sea before Moses as one Infected strode forth, his bloodstained suit jacket tossed casually over one shoulder as he neared the door to the bus. A light, almost joyful skip entered his walk as he stopped in front of the doors; a smile teased his features as the Infected man lifted his hand, rapping his knuckles on the thick panes of glass set into the door before him.
 

The driver's eyes bulged as tears and sweat mingled with the mucus pouring from his nose, the grinning form of a man filling his vision as he neared the concertina doors of the bus. The Infected's gaze dropped to the emergency access button next to them, the yellow button glowing as the orange ring around it shone with an iridescent light.
 

The doors hissed open as the pneumatic hinge spun, the heavy clack of metal and plastic warping the air as, slowly, one footstep at a time, he made his way aboard.
 

'Well, hello, ladies and gentlemen—and children. I do hope your journey has been a comfortable one, but unfortunately, due to unforeseen congestion on the route and several large accidents, you will have to de-bus and proceed on foot. Of course, due to the current climate and present affliction afflicting many of the local residents I cannot guarantee your safety.
 

'Therefore, I offer you the chance to join me and my compatriots. Of course, there is one minor stipulation; well, I say
minor
, but it's actually quite substantial, and that is, that you must give yourself over to our way of being, if not...'
 

He trailed off leaving the ravenous gaze of the Infected just outside the glass to drive his point home.
 

'Need I say any more?'
 

He perched on the bottom step of the staircase leading to the upper deck of the bus, his suit coat still tossed over one shoulder as he reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled out a slim metal case. The polished chrome tube glinted in the sunlight as he pushed the top off with his thumb, the rhythmic ring of the polished chrome steel bouncing against the filth-laden floor of the bus filled the air as he raised it to his mouth, his teeth closing over the protruding cigar as he dragged it from the tube.