Designated (Book 1): Designated Infected (28 page)

Staring up at the ceiling, he began to feel his mind
drift as he watched the small porous holes in the ceiling tiles slip
in and out of focus. Casting his mind back he mulled over what had,
in his eyes, been a skin of the teeth escape from the tower block
three days ago.

****

Their feet pounded against the dry, dust covered
concrete of the corridor. Ragged breathing echoing off the vacant
walls, the sixteenth floor was gone, left behind them filled with the
corpses of the deceased.

Glancing behind them, Davies caught the vaporous shapes
of the woe-begotten souls desperate for his living flesh. Tearing his
eyes away from them, he carried on, urging those around him to push
forwards. Twisting, he smashed open a set of double doors his
shoulder screaming in pain as it collided with the reinforced fire
doors.

The suits covering their bodies like a second skin were
slick with sweat, scouring their skin raw as they sprinted for their
lives. Colinson cast a glance to his left, the grim set of Davies'
features caught him slightly off guard, he had expected to see panic
or fear dancing on the faces of Davies and his team but as he cast
his eyes to each man's face all he saw was anger and steeled
determination.

The rattle of machine guns made Davies' and Colinson's
heads turn, casting their gaze behind them they clasped eyes on
Sheperd and Clarkson, both men rapidly back-peddling as they fired
their weapons from the hip. Sweat running off them in torrents as
they fought to keep their guns trained on the corridor behind the
fleeing men.

Davies watched the consternation bloom on the faces of
those around him, all had the same anger filled glint in their eye,
all of them disgusted with themselves. How could they have not only
been routed from the building by this horde of shambling Infected but
on top of it also walk blindly into what was obviously an ambush.

The thoughts swirled through Davies' mind, he couldn't
understand it. The place had been cleared, he had checked it himself,
so where the hell had they come from. Shaking his head in frustration
he shoved the thoughts from his mind as he pushed onwards, slamming
shoulder first through another set of doors, the eight year old girl
in his grasp squealing in fright as the doors passed by her, mere
millimetres from her face.

****

Davies jumped slightly as he felt a hand on his
shoulder, snapping his head around his eyes swam as he forced them to
rapidly focus on the face no more than two feet from his own. Locking
his gaze on to the warm smiling eyes above him, he took stock of the
man before him.

'Come on. We need a chat.'

Baker reached out and dragged Davies' booted feet from
the table as several of John's team mates watched the pair leave.
Looking to one another each man saw the same quizzical look dancing
in the eyes of the other, as if drawn by some other worldly force
they turned as one looking to Davies still untouched pint swirling
slightly in the glass, the amber liquid bounced from the soft rocking
motion of the table, Jones watched it for a second as the golden
carbonated liquid kissed the inner rim of the pint glass before
rolling back down into the confines of its prison. Casting his gaze
across the room he watched as Baker lay a hand on Davies shoulder as
they simultaneously pushed open the doors and left.

31

'So, what happened John?'

Davies sighed as he collapsed onto the bench in front of
the statue of the kneeling soldier, his eyes caught the row of small
brass plaques, it had been a long time since he had sat here. A small
sardonic smirk graced his lips as he gazed at his reflection.
'Honestly?'

Baker nodded as he sat next to the man. 'Yeah, your
words, not some bullshit report.'

Davies nodded, sighing he ran a hand over his face as he
dragged his charcoal grey beret from his head and slowly fed it
through his fingers the felt rasping slightly as it grated on the
calloused skin of his hands.

'Don't know, it doesn't make sense.'

Baker leant back against the bench watching Davies'
every move.

'What doesn't?' Baker's Welsh accent softened the edges
of his words.

Davies gripped his beret tight in his hands as he raised
his face to the dying rays of the evening sun.

'The whole damned situation, we had cleared the whole
place, only,' he paused as he searched his memory for the exact
figure, 'three floors remained unchecked.' Baker kept quiet as he
listened to Davies talk.

'The R.R.T had left Kerr and Williams guarding the door
to the roof.'

Baker nodded affirming that Davies not only had it
right, but he was also paying attention, taking a breath Davies
ploughed on.

'We had followed Sheperd from the room on the sixteenth.
The corridor outside the room we were cornered it was a slaughter
house.'

Davies shook his head slightly as his eyes glazed over
for a second before shaking the memory clear.

'Anyway, as I said. We followed him up to the nineteenth
after dropping back and picking up the kids Jones had found before we
even caught sight of another Infected, although,' his brow furrowed
as he brought the memory kicking and screaming from the depths of his
mind, 'something was different. They didn't seem so, for lack of a
better term, brain dead as the others had, they seemed smart, not
just primal, or even animal, I am talking me or you smart here.'

Davies glanced at Baker. The man's eyes swam with
questions.

'As I said, they looked intelligent, hell they were
intelligent, Sheperd aimed at one and it dodged the fucking barrel.
Sheperd adjusted, the thing moved again, eventually he just hosed the
corridor. Over a hundred rounds he laid down, peppering the corridor
before the fucker and the six others behind it dropped.'

Baker sighed pinching the bridge of his nose, this
confirmed it and he didn't want to admit it, but it scared the hell
out of him.

'John.'

Davies' mouth snapped shut, biting his half finished
sentence clean in two.

'Staff?'

Baker slumped forwards; slightly resting his elbows on
his knees as held out the manila folder in his hand, Davies reached
out and flipped it open, flicking through the pages as he skimmed the
contents.

'Bollocks.' Davies uttered as he snapped the folder
shut, Baker snorted as his stifled laughter threatened to break free.

'My words exactly.' Baker pushed himself to his feet
motioning for Davies to follow. Both men walked side by side away
from the statue, they walked in silence, their feet thumping on the
cobbled pathway as they slowly trudged through the small memorial
garden, the dying rays of the day warming their tired bones before
Baker finally broke the silence.

'The team before your lot, S.A.U Temple...' Davies
cocked an eyebrow at the name, Baker shrugged as he answered Davies
sceptical look.

'They picked the name, anyway they were sent into Africa
two years ago; we thought at the time it was a level two or three at
best. The Americans had sent in a team from Division Thirty-Six.'

Davies was surprised at the mention of the unit,
thinking them nothing but a rumour. 'Basically our American twin.'
Davies nodded silently as they carried on walking.

'Any way, the Division Thirty-Six team and S.A.U Temple
managed to retrieve samples from several Infected before the place
was demolished. 'Only two men, out of the twenty-three that went in,
made it out alive, three of the Division Thirty-Six men, and the
entire S.A.U team, were wiped out.

The third Division member died during extraction. The
mission was a cluster fuck from start to finish. We managed to piece
things together from what we learnt after the two American agents
were debriefed. 'It seems that the viral strain has mutated, the
progenitor virus is still out there somewhere.

'I know I sure as shit didn't encounter it in Iraq and
Afghanistan, but from what we gleaned when we tested the samples we
got from my encounters, and those of the American agents is that it
appears to mutate on the genetic level as it jumps from host to
host.'

Davies held a slightly puzzled look as mulled over what
was being said.

'So, no two Infected, shufflers, walkers, whatever you
want to name them, are ever the same,' Davies quizzed. Looking at
Baker, he watched as his commander shook his head.

'They are though as you said, getting smarter. You saw
that three days ago with how the Infected reacted to Sheperd.
'Despite this there are degrees of the mutation still appearing in
even the most base of the carriers. 'It seems as if the carrier
itself is responsible for how the virus changes within it. For
example, and this is just my own thoughts here, if you had a base
infection in, say the local pizza guy, stereotyped for this example,
you know dumb as a post eighteen year old?'

Davies nodded as he motioned for Baker to continue.

'When he Infected the next person he come across, say
the local fitness freak, the virus in the delivery guy would have
gone from a basic shuffler to what it sees as a primed killing
machine. The runner would be quick, agile and very effective at
dispersing the virus rapidly, and as if that wasn't enough, it
appears to be adopting these changes permanently. Each of the four
samples we tested were completely different to its predecessor.'

Davies suppressed a shudder as he took in what Baker was
telling him. He paled slightly as a thought crossed his mind. Turning
to Baker, he spoke.

'What else could it do to the human form?'

Baker shrugged. 'The guys in the lab are running some
tests, my contacts in the U.S safe zones have sent over some death
row lifers who have given themselves over for testing.

'It's all legal they signed off on everything with
complete knowledge of what they were in for, I'll let you know once I
know any more. We have a specialist working with us, she was a key
player in the Russian team and was one of the discovers of this
mutation pattern.'

Davies nodded, despite being slightly put off by the
idea. The two men walked in silence as they moved through the small
memorial garden towards the parade square. The shouts and cries
drifting to them causing, both men to smile slightly.

Passing through the rose covered awning Davies and Baker
looked down the softly stepped incline to the ranks of new recruits
lined up on the hardened tarmac of the drill square.

'So chief who we got this time?'

It had been over a year since Davies and the others had
been through the slightly surreal selection process. A soft smile
ghosted across his face as he looked down upon the people below, his
eyebrows rose slightly in consternation as his gaze alighted upon the
curved forms of eighteen women.

Turning his gaze to Baker he watched as a sly grin
bloomed upon his commander's face.

'Seriously?'

Baker's grin grew ever wider as he looked back at
Davies, the consternation and surprise danced within him in equal
measure. Turning his gaze back to the groups before them, he
shrugged. His shoulders rising and falling in a limp display of
derisive acceptance, he knew this wasn't going to go down very well
with the other lads, but he was surprised to find that those in the
pit before them seemed strangely calm about the female presence.

'So where will they be in the teams.'

Baker chuckled, as Davies' question drifted by. Turning
around, he rested his back against the brick wall leaning into it,
shifting his weight slightly as he propped himself up on his elbows,
and carefully mulled over his reply.

'Mostly, from what I can figure, they will be drop
pilots and close air support, although from what I have heard and
read, they may very well end up in country with the rest of the men.'

Davies snorted slightly as a tired grin tugged at his
lips, sighing he shook his head.

'Oh well, had to happen sooner or later'

Baker cocked an eyebrow at him.

'What?'

Davies chuckled.

'Women in combat, the Americans have unofficially had
them in the field for years ever since the invasion back in 2001 and
even before then, so it was inevitable they would end up with us,
still doesn't mean we'll drop the preconceived notions over night.'

Baker shook his head a dull chuckle rising from his
gullet as he set a hand on Davies' shoulder.

'Me and you buddy are the last of a dying breed, we see
women as people who need to be protected so they can fulfil the role
of carer and mother to the new generation of mankind, but alas, more
and more of them are striving to equalise the playing field, and in
my own way, I admire them for it, but I, like you, am an old school
soldier. Despite that, it's going to be a simple case of acceptance,
and let it be; if they want in, who are we to stop them.'

Baker cast a sidelong look at Davies as he spoke,
gauging the man's reaction, through it all, he had seemed unnervingly
neutral to what Baker had said. Suppressing the urge to call Davies
out on the subject, he ploughed on.