Forager (12 page)

I backed away from the Bushmaster and accosted King, who had just come up behind me. “What are you doing, Jones, get in the vehicle!” he shouted.

“They’ve got David!”

“That’s unfortunate, now get in.”

“We have to save him!”

King glanced quickly about, taking in the buildings, wrecked vehicles, shrubs and weeds that surrounded us, and shook his head. “We have no idea where they’ve taken him, and it’s far too dangerous to go rooting around trying to find out. We have to get out of here.”

As if to emphasize his point, a crossbow bolt hit the Bushmaster’s door right beside King’s head with a loud bang. The Custodian manning the roof-mounted machine gun returned fire in the general direction the bolt had come from. Bullets shattered bricks beside a second story window in the building across the road.

Without thinking, I struck a pressure point on King’s right forearm with a knife-hand blow, ripped the Austeyr assault-rifle from his hands, and darted back towards the restaurant. I couched the gun against my shoulder as I ran, and noticed that King had set the gun on fully automatic fire. That was no good, as I could empty the thirty-round magazine in seconds. I flicked the automatic lockout back to the exposed position so that the gun would fire in semi-automatic mode. I don’t know how I knew all this, but as soon as the gun was in my hands, I knew what to do, almost like instinct.

I glanced about as I ran, letting rip with ultrasonic shout after shout, the flash sonar enhancing my vision so I could ‘see’ into every shadow and darkened room, and through every shrub and bush. If the Custodians were somehow monitoring the sound frequencies and spotted me using flash sonar and it cost me my life, then so be it. I had to save David. Period.

I figured the Skel would have taken him out of the restaurant through the kitchen, so I would have to find a way to get behind the restaurant. However, before I could do that I had to do something about what the flash sonar had revealed – the entire area was crawling with Skel. Many of the buildings around us had Skel crossbowmen hiding in them, using shadows to remain concealed. Three more of the degenerate nomads, armed with Molotov cocktails, were scurrying towards the Bushmaster from the other side of the road, using wrecked cars, shrubs and wild grass as cover.

And to top it all off, two hundred meters back down the road we had used to get here, several Skel were setting up bombs to immobilise or destroy our vehicles if we retreated back the way we came.

As much as I wanted to go straight to David’s rescue, those three with the Molotovs had to be dealt with first. Instead of continuing towards the restaurant, I ran across the road, ducking two bolts fired at me from second story windows. When I got behind the wrecked cars, I ran quietly back towards the Bushmaster and the three Skel stalking it. I found them as they were preparing to lob their horrific weapons – the Custodian operating the Bushmaster’s machine gun had no idea they were there and that he was about to be doused with burning petrol. I opened up on the three skeleton-encased warriors before they could throw, and put them down with three shots to the back of their unarmoured necks. That done, I ran back to the restaurant, where I was almost shot by the Custodian, who thought I was a Skel. He jerked the machine gun away at the last second, sending a stream of bullets whizzing past my head.

My flash sonar detected two Skel hiding in the restaurant’s darkened foyer. Rather than take them on frontally, I entered the fast food joint next door. I dashed past a smashed service-counter and then popped silently through a gaping hole in the wall that lead into the restaurant’s dining room – right behind the Skel. Two more shots and they were down. One dropped soundlessly, but the other held his neck and screamed as he thrashed about on the floor.

My line of retreat now secure, I went back into the fast food joint through the hole in the wall and hurried through its narrow kitchen, then into the empty room behind it. But when I tried to push open the aluminium back door, I found it was stuck. I turned to the window beside the door and quietly shifted aside the window frame's head jamb, which had collapsed. After checking there were no Skel on the other side, I slithered through the gap.

The back of the fast food shop was a jungle of trees, bushes, and weeds jostling to get the most exposure to sunlight. I paused, quietened my breathing, and focused on what I could hear. I immediately heard several gruff Skel voices coming from the restaurant’s back yard beside me. Three were discussing setting up a trap to ambush whoever was pursuing them. They had heard my gunshots, and the fourth appeared to be reporting their situation, though to whom I had no idea.

I threaded my way through the trees, bushes and weeds until I reached what was left of the chain-link fence that marked the back of the property. I forced my way through and entered the backyard of another building. I ran to my left and scaled a crumbling brick wall so that I was now directly behind the restaurant's rusty chain-link fence and backyard.

I could see four Skel – and – David!

The Skel closest to me was holding him upright with his left arm, using him as a human shield, while his right hand held a knife near his throat. Another Skel was over near the restaurant’s back door to the right, and the other two were on my left, hiding in the bushes. The good news was that they all had their backs to me, as I had expected.

I had to disable the Skel holding David first, so I climbed slowly and quietly up a tree over-hanging the fence and braced myself in its lower limbs. I steadied the assault-rifle against a branch, took aim, and then fired a shot through the Skel's right wrist and then his throat. The nomad bellowed in pain and dropped both the knife and David, and then collapsed. Next, I put a shot through the neck of the Skel over near the restaurant's back door, and then jumped from the tree.

The other two chose that moment to burst from where they were hiding. I put down the closest skeleton-armoured brute first, but the second one fired his crossbow at the same time that I fired a shot through his throat.

The bolt struck me just below the left collarbone with the force of a sledgehammer, sending me staggering back to collide with a pile of rotting wooden pallets, where I slid slowly to the ground. Seeing the bolt sticking out of my chest felt surreal, but the truth sank in – I’d been shot! I wanted to surrender to the waves of pain washing through me and fall unconscious, but remembering that David was at my feet helped keep me focused.

I reached a hand out to his neck, and was relieved to find a healthy pulse. Hopefully they had only knocked him out, because I could not see any wounds on his person.

I also spotted a shiny black, palm-sized plastic object next to the Skel who had been holding David, so I grabbed it and popped it into my pocket.

I could hear more Skel approaching all around, but even closer were two pairs of footsteps rushing towards me through the restaurant’s kitchen – footsteps that I instantly recognised. They belonged to King and Michal.

Knowing that help was nigh, I tried to stand, but the movement caused agonising pain to tear through my body thanks to the bolt in my shoulder.

Everything went black.

* * *

"Jones, wake up!"

I jerked awake to see King's ugly face two inches from mine. To say he was angry would have been an understatement – he was ropeable. I looked around frantically for a moment, wondering where I was. Then it came flooding back. I rescued David but had been shot in the process. The four Skel I had despatched lay sprawled about me, but Lieutenant King and Michal found me at last. Michal was picking up David and slinging him carefully over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

"David...?" I asked.

"He’ll live, but we've got to get back before more Skel find us," King snapped as he grabbed my right arm and hauled me roughly to my feet. Pain exploded through me and I almost blacked yet. “I’m sorry, did that hurt?” he mocked.

Looking at my shoulder, I saw that he had removed the bolt and placed a sterile gauze pad over the wound, and bound up the shoulder with bandages. "Press here – I don't want you flaking on us on the way back, ‘cause then I’d have to carry your sorry backside."

With Michal leading the way back through the restaurant towards the Bushmaster and our comrades, it took all my strength to put one foot in front of the other. That was with King practically dragging me along with him. He was armed with a pistol; his re-appropriated assault-rifle was slung over his back.

As we left the dark kitchen, we heard the voices of several Skel who had entered behind us.

"Faster!" King snarled.

Somehow, we made it through the restaurant and safely back to the street, but had to give our faithful truck a wide berth as angry flames devoured it.

“Cover us!” King shouted to the Custodian operating the machine gun on top of the Bushmaster. The private fired over the top of the burning truck – and just in time too – a group of Skel were charging out of the building behind us. The hail of bullets soon had them scampering for cover.

With Shorty helping from inside the vehicle, Michal carried David carefully through the Bushmaster's rear door.

After that, Shorty reached out and helped me onto a seat. “Thanks for saving David, Jones, you're a legend.”

I gave Shorty a weak smile.

King climbed into the vehicle, slammed and locked the door behind us.

The Custodian manning the machine gun suddenly dropped back inside the vehicle moaning in pain. There was a crossbow bolt embedded in his shoulder. A Custodian private grabbed a med kit, carefully removed the bolt, and bound up the wound.

King bellowed at the driver, “Go, go!”

Remembering the roadside bombs the Skel had placed on the route we had come, I grabbed King's arm feebly. "Don't go back the way we came, keep going east and then circle back using a different route."

"Belay that order!" King shouted to the driver. And then to me, "Why Jones?"

"This was a meticulously laid trap, King. You think they're not expecting us to flee back the way we came?"

He glared at me for a moment, and then told the driver to do what I suggested. The Bushmaster's idling engine roared to life and it quickly picked up speed as it surged eastwards down the street.

I suddenly remembered what had transpired to bring about this debacle – Cooper, our new team leader, had fled the Skel with no thought to David's safety. The coward was still sitting there behind the driver, shaking with fear. My self-control snapped and I lunged at him, striking him weakly in the face with a bloody fist. I couldn't get another blow in because I doubled over in pain and collapsed on the narrow floor.

Sending a look of pure venom in Cooper’s direction, Shorty helped me up and guided me back into my seat.

After treating his wounded comrade, the Custodian with the med kit went to check on David.

“How is he – he gonna be alright?” asked Michal, who was sitting next to David and keeping him in his seat.

"Looks like just a concussion but we can't do anything more for him here. We need to get him checked out at the hospital.”

I was relieved beyond measure to hear that my efforts to save David had not been in vain. He was going to be okay.

King moved from his seat at the back of the Bushmaster so that he could sit across from me. He sat there for several minutes, glaring at me as the vehicle drove at high speeds away from the ambush site, rocking and bumping us as it passed over broken asphalt and shrubbery.

He finally found his voice. “You’re a damn fool Jones, not only did you almost get us all killed, but you assaulted me, a Custodian, and stole my weapon! You’re looking at ten to fifteen in a hard labour factory.”

Everyone was watching our exchange, both my teammates and the Custodians. They had all seen or heard me attack King, take his gun, and rush off alone to save David. Shorty and Michal looked on aghast when he mentioned the lengthy jail term.

I think my face went a shade paler as his words sank in. Ten to fifteen years in prison? All my hopes, all my dreams, my entire life as I knew it, was gone. Still, to save David from the Skel it was a price worth paying. “I’m really sorry, Sir, but I just couldn’t let them take David.”

King leaned closer. “So I noticed. And you know, Jones, I may not arrest you for what you did today.”

I looked at him doubtfully. “I'm sorry, Sir?”

“You're an enigma, Jones – a puzzle that doesn't make any sense. For example, explain how you disarmed me with one strike – where did you – a forager – learn how to do that?”

“I don’t know, Sir. When you, ah, hesitated to go after David, my instincts just took over.”

“Cut the bull, Jones. You delivered a perfect knife-hand strike to a pressure point on my arm. Who taught you how to do that?”

I could see what was worrying him. Civilians were not permitted to learn the martial arts. “I’m serious, Lieutenant, I don’t know how I knew that. It just…happened.”

“That’s garbage, Jones. And now on to the next question,” King said as he leaned even closer. “When did you do an advanced gun handling course?"

"What do you mean?" I must admit that he had stumped me with that question.