Designated (Book 1): Designated Infected (21 page)

'Roger that, now lets get the fuck out of here. This is
too big for any of us to handle. Get on the coms to the others and
have them relay to the Brits that this situation is to hot for a fire
team, then drop a radio beacon and we will bug-out to the evac.'

Crow nodded and relayed the orders. Raven dropped his
hand from his ear to his neck as he replied.

'Acknowledge Crow, be on site in thirty seconds or less,
but we lost the pizza sorry buddy.

'Hawk, Sparrow, fire and move ladies we have a dinner
date.'

The two men nodded and began to pepper pot backwards
down the tunnel. Sparrow unleashed a short burst, got up and sprinted
twelve-feet, dropping to his knee facing the way he had come, firing
off well aimed-shots as his team mates ran past him.

They reached the end of the tunnel behind them a fresh
cut pathway sunk deeper into the darkened mine narrowing dramatically
as they moved along its length. Raven's shoulder scraped off the wall
as he forced himself out as far as he could manage to allow his team
mates past.

'Fuck, not good, this is not good.'

Hawk jammed his fingers into his radio collar as he
spoke wincing at the accidental force.

'Crow, Rook, we're bunched tight here. Going to hold off
on this position, can you double back to our site?'

Hawk heard a guttural curse as Rook replied.

'Negative buddy, we're stuck fast. Do what you can then
meet us topside.'

Crow spun and keyed through a new message, listening
intently he motioned over Rook, rattling off everything he could as
he was told it.

'Big Bird has called through. They are in convo with the
African Union in Johannesburg and the state leaders down here', he
paused as he cringed deeply at the implications, 'about levelling the
mine, seems we have attracted every Infected in the area to us.'

Crunching gravel and a soft skittering of stones bounced
down the tunnel mouth as they continued to push back the wave of
Infected trying to force their way towards them.

'Fucking typical that ain't it lads.'

A gravelled Glaswegian voice cut through their
conversation like a hot knife through butter.

'What the fuck do you want, Dictator.'

'Nothing much boys. I'm nearby with some mates of mine.
Out for a bit of a walk and thought you might like a hand.'

Rook groaned to himself as he continued to fire, the
crunching of gravel slowly edging closer.

'Whatever buddy, we need all the help we can get right
now.'

Rook could all but feel the smile on the scotsman's face
as he waited with steeply growing impatience for Dictators reply.

'Fair enough like, just tell your boys not to shoot us
we are coming through now mate.'

Rook grimaced again; he really didn't like the guy.

'Roger that, Rook out.'

22

Dictator, Legionnaire, and the other seven men moved
quickly through the tunnels picking off any straggling Infected they
came across.

'Dictator, these ain't normal Infected, they look...well
they look...intelligent is the only way to put it, going to sound
stupid but I get the feeling this ain't a normal outbreak.'

Dictator growled from the back of his throat.

'Write it up later, right now we got some yanks to save.
I may think he is a holier than thou twat, but he don't deserve to be
torn to bits.' Legionnaire looked at his unit chief, a confused
question furrowing his brow. 'But boss, you think that of all
Americans.'

Dictator chuckled. 'Very true son, very true, but still
me and the Rook have a bit of history, just leave it at that, okay
sunshine.'

Legionnaire nodded and refocused on what was ahead.
Rounding a corner all nine men slid to a halt the tunnel coming to a
stop eight feet in front of them.

The floor fell away sharply, the charred black scaring
the only indication of what had happened. Kneeling Dictator picked up
the remains of a blasting cap and twirled the twisted length of
melted wire between his fingers.

'Seems the locals blew the floor out of the tunnel, must
have thought it would save them, and most likely it would have.'

Legionnaire peered over the edge of the hole as he
kicked a smattering of pebbles off the edge. 'What d'ya mean, it
would have?' Dictator smiled tightly, he motioned with the blasting
cap to the far side of the hole. 'The bodies, they blew the floor out
but the Infected were already over there with them, probably one of
their mates got bit or something and didn't say a word, then he
turned and went to town on the rest of them.'

Legionnaire looked puzzled as he stepped back from the
crumbling lip of the hole before him.

'How do you know?'

Dictator snorted dryly. 'I don't, but one thing I do
know though is, we ain't getting through this way.'

Keying his mic to the right channel Dictator relayed the
bad news.

'Rook, this is Dictator...the route's jammed solid, they
blew the floor out back here. We ain't getting through this way, can
you push on and meet us at the southern air intake, we have fast
ropes and a chopper on standby.'

Rook listened to the static chopped message as it came
through.

'We can try. Do us a favour and blow the north tunnel on
your way out. It'll stop any more of the Infected coming through.'

Dictator grinned as Rook replied.

'Done deal mate, one Infected pancake coming up.'
Turning to his men, Dictator smiled. 'Well lads break out the C12; we
have a cork to pop.'

****

Baker looked slightly stunned, he had done some stupid
things in his career as a soldier and special operative, but dropping
a mine tunnel while you were still stood in it, he limply shook his
head; staring at Colinson he asked.

'They actually blew the tunnel?'

Colinson simply twirled his hand in a gesture of “keep
reading.” Baker taking the hint dove back into the file.

****

Titan's head scraped the ceiling of the tunnel,
eliciting a growl of annoyance from the behemoth. His ear bead
crackled and fizzed, the metal content in the mine tunnel was playing
havoc with his radio. None of the Icarus section had been able to get
in contact with any of the other team members or the American unit.

Racking the bolt back, to charge his weapon; he smiled.
The heavy metallic clack, of the bolt against the folded steel of the
casing echoed off the walls; his smile almost bloomed into a grin, as
he felt the adrenalin shiver down his spin. The “Mini-mi”
M249 machine gun was a toy in the man's hands, he carried it as
easily as the rest carried their MP5's.

He growled again as his head clanked off another low
slab jutting out the ceiling, the noise echoing down the tunnel
before bouncing back at them as they moved forwards. A low guttural
moan rolled over them as they rounded the corner, the sight made the
nine men grind instantly to a halt.

Their
weapons snapped to their shoulders as they took stock of what lay in
their path, the pinpoint red tactical lasers mounted on their weapons
arcing through the dust filled gloom. The tunnel ahead was awash with
Infected, stumbling and falling over one another in their haste to
get at the walking buffet that had so kindly wandered in.

****

The fried and slowly dying brain of Simao Kitu latched
onto the figures in front of him. In the dim recesses of his ever
diminishing mind he saw them as men, as people who offered help, the
patch on their front told him that; they were soldiers, the good
ones.

But it mattered not to his starving body as blood filled
saliva dripped from his shattered teeth. A gurgling, bubble filled,
moan of hunger left his throat as he stumbled into a run; his arms
flailing in front of him as he reached in desperation, hunger and his
need to feed on anything that resembled protein driving him onwards.

Time seemed to drop to a crawl as his still dying brain
flickered to life and drove him forwards. His ear picked up the
muffled shouts and groans of his fellow diners as they all scrambled
towards what they simply saw as food. Simao's teeth ground together
as he slowly closed the gap, the pink tinged saliva slipping through
his split lips as he latched onto the single thought cascading
through his shattered mind.

His motions became faster as he threw himself forwards,
stumbling over his own sandal covered feet he fell to his knees. His
left knee cap burst through his skin like a whale broaching the
ocean's surface as he smashed into the unforgiving cavern floor.

Forcing his atrophying muscles to work he blindly surged
on. His eyes dimming as the corneas died and faded to nothing, Titan
took one look at the room before him the ordered the rest to open
fire. Simao spun as bullets impacted into his body, tearing through
him as the hot spears of copper and lead forced their way through his
soft flesh tearing open his body like a pencil through paper.
Slapping to the ground like a dying fish on a dock, his shattered
form came to rest amidst a cloud of dust and blood on the cold stone
of the cavern floor.

He scrapped and dragged at the dust and blood covered
granite in his desperation to reach the life giving sustenance his
body craved, his plague tortured mind refusing to acknowledge, that
his body was beyond any hint of repair.

As the smoke cleared the massacre before them was
revealed, the bullet riddled bodies of the Infected lay strewn about
the room, like dolls cast aside in an infant's play room. Titan
scanned the room with a practised eye, his gaze alighting on the
still struggling form of an Infected. He winced slightly as he took
in the damage that had been caused not only by the bullet impacts but
also the Infected that had condemned the poor fellow to this
insurmountable fate.

Slowly striding towards it Titan watched the Infected
writhe and squirm as it tried to reach out towards him; strangled,
gasping gargles escaped its mouth as it swiped futilely at the air.
Shoving it onto its back with his boot, Titan raised his side arm,
the small red dot of his sight centred on the middle of its forehead.
He scanned the body once more, eyes falling on the name tag partially
obscured by mud, dust and blood.

'Sorry Kitu it's either you or me, and to be honest
mate; I don't fancy being lunch. May you find peace.'

With those final few words reaching the last flicker of
the man trapped within the desiccated form Titan fired. The
forty-five calibre round left the guns muzzle covering the distance
in less time than it took to blink. The bullet connected with Simao's
forehead slicing like a scalpel through his dermis and skull;
shredding brain matter and exiting the back of his head amidst a
powdered mist of bone and brain.

Simao's head fell back with a crunch of crushed bone as
his shattered form was finally stilled, to his dying day Titan would
swear to any one, that as he stared down at the corpse below him he
saw a gaze of thanks dance through the dead eyes of the Infected man
as the last vestige of its former life left and the corpse of the
poor unfortunate soul was still once more.

23

Dictator sped up as the sounds of the gunfire echoed
through the cavernous maze of tunnels.

'Rook, time to move, that tunnel is coming down in the
next thirty seconds, and if you ain’t out it's coming down on
your head.'

Rook scrambled to relay the order to his men as
Dictator's voice growled in his ear.

'Sparrow time to go.'

Sparrow looked down at the still darkening leg of his
trousers, he knew he was Infected and was as good as dead, a sense of
calm washed through him as he spoke, his words, soft and fluid as he
set a fresh magazine into his weapon.

'Go, I got you.'

Rook's face fell.

'No Sparrow, one or none, you know that.'

Sparrow sighed, setting all thoughts of friendship aside
he pushed Rook back, his hand crashing into the centre of Rooks chest
making him wince sharply from the impact.

'I
said go. I got bit, I ain't taking you down with me, I'm dead if I
go, and I'm dead if I stay, you know that. Just
fucking
go!
'

Raven went to drag Sparrow away, the young soldier moved
like a snake slamming his fist into Ravens chin lifting him off the
floor and sending him into the waiting arms of the others.

'Sparrow, it don't have to be like this.'

Sparrow began to shake as his temperature spiked, mucus
cascading down from his nostrils slowly seeped its way into his B.D.U
jacket, the viscous fluid shimmering in the dull glow of the their
night-vision goggles.

Sparrow's skin felt slick in his clothing as he began to
perspire, his body basting itself as he was slowly cooked from
within, the rattling chant of gunfire permeating their thoughts as
they watched Sparrows slow decent into madness and death.