The Dead Walk The Earth (Book 4) (18 page)

Within seconds the wailing sound of the claxon ceased. A few rifles continued to fire sporadically, but compared to a few moments earlier a calm and unnerving silence seemed to settle over the base.

“Hold your fucking fire, you cunts,”
an infuriated voice from the opposite wall demanded, as the duty commander attempted to regain control of his troops.

Tina and Al began making their way towards the north eastern section of the defences, passing by numerous, anxious faces that stared back at them. Most of the guard force, men and women who had undergone enough training for them to be able to man the defences, appeared to be on the brink of panic. They watched Al and Tina as they passed.

“Don’t look at me, you cretin,” Al snapped at one of them as he stomped along the walkway. The guard was staring up at him with eyes like saucers while smoke continued to drift up from the barrel of his rifle. Al glanced down at the piles of empty brass cases around his feet. “Watch your arcs, and re-bomb your magazines.”

The man quickly turned around and began to clumsily shove rounds into the empty magazines that lay discarded on the sandbags beside him. Al was tempted to punch him, seeing the amount of ammunition he had fired off for no apparent reason. He checked himself before grunting his annoyance and then continuing on after Tina.

“Fucking civvies.”

As he moved along, he kept an eye on what was happening beyond the walls. Darkness was quickly approaching, but there was still enough fading light to see what was happening beyond the base. Directly below them there were thousands of the infected all along the perimeter, screeching and clawing at the T-walls. He was already aware of them even before the alarms had sounded. The sight of them did not cause him to feel any degree of panic, and by now, the militia should have been used to them being there. It had been over twenty-four hours since clusters of them began to make their way across the open ground towards them.

At the north eastern section, as they passed under one of the machinegun towers, Tina and Al saw what it was that had sent the guards into a panic. Thousands more of the dead were headed towards them. It seemed that entire section of the sieging infected were on the move and converging on the walls. A flood of twisted, rotting corpses, their haunting voices growing louder, were dragging themselves through the mud and wreckage that covered the wasteland around the forward operating base.

“Fuck,” Al snorted.

From below, the dogs began to howl and bark. Tina turned to see Sebastian doing all he could to console them, but the animals were jumping about within their kennels and biting at the wire that kept them separated from the rest of the base. They were panicked, and with good cause. From all around the perimeter section commanders were frantically screaming through their radios, reporting the same observations. The dead were on the move, en-masse. Hundreds of thousands of them were swarming towards the walls, with no end in sight. It was a rising tide of death, staggering and screaming for the blood of the living.

Tina called the commanders in to her position. After ten minutes they were all there, looking nervous with flitting eyes and fidgeting hands as they did their best to appear as though they were in control of themselves. Tina wasted no time in making it clear who was in overall command. She spoke aggressively, the veins in her neck protruding from the skin. She glared into the eyes of the men and women assembled before her, spitting her orders through clenched teeth.

“Control your people,” she growled. “Everyone is to stay calm, and remain in their positions. Hold fire unless there’s an imminent threat of the perimeter being breached. Anyone leaving their station will be dealt with severely, and I’ll hold
you
accountable. We hold our own, or we all fucking die. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

They nodded as one, under no illusion to what the wild woman in front of them was stating. They knew that at a critical moment like this, anyone losing their nerve would be considered as a potential threat to the integrity of the base and the safety of the people within. A threat that they could not afford to allow or ignore.

She pointed to each of the commanders in turn, using all five fingers of her hand in a chopping motion. The intimidating gesture was known as the ‘Brecon Point’, referring to a habit that was adopted by all directing staff of the British Army on various command courses that were held in the Brecon Beacons in South Wales. Rather than using a single fingered point, they would use their entire hand.

“Get back to your positions, and keep a tight grip on your sections,” she ordered, dismissing the various commanders.

Her orders had been brief and could have easily been relayed over the radio, but Tina was an expert at psychological warfare. She wanted the commanders to see her face, to look into her eyes, and read her body language. At that moment she needed them to fear
her
more than they feared the dead. The infected terrified them all, but they were on the opposite side of the wall. Tina was inside and if she needed to she would launch a rampage of her own, doing everything she could to reinforce their resolve.

“Jesus, Tina,” Al said as he watched the section commanders scurry away. “You’ve even got me shitting my pants.”

“There’s a fine line between fear and respect,” she said as she turned to eye the crowds of infected. “But right now, I need their fear more.”

The commander for the entire guard force was standing close by waiting on further orders from Tina. After a minute she stepped back from the wall, having seen enough to know that they were in a serious situation. Once again, they were under close siege, but this time they did not have the ammunition or fuel to drive them back. The dead would stay at the walls forever or until they found a way in.

“Stand the entire guard force to, and have the QRF meet me by the northern gate in five minutes,” she ordered. “We need them to help restore order and keep this place from going under.”

Paul, the militia guard force commander nodded. There was nothing special about the man in his appearance. Of average height and build, with jet-black hair and deep blue eyes, he came across as being very agreeable and easy going. However, he had proven to be a true taskmaster when called upon, with meticulous attention to detail and great energy, and an almost sadistic ruthlessness when required.

He had been a member of the merchant navy before the outbreak and had served for many years as the second engineer aboard a super tanker. He had been chosen for his current role due to his maturity and his ability to deal with civilians placed into a position where they needed to follow a military style discipline. Many times in the past Paul had managed to prevent a rout by the militia, and he was just as capable of being as harsh and unforgiving as Tina when he needed to be. His wife and fourteen-year-old daughter lived inside the base. They had lost their two sons early on during the outbreak, and he was determined to protect what was left of his family. Being the militia commander gave him a say in what was decided and afforded him the ability to play a part in the fate of his wife and child.

“I also suggest sending four or five trustworthy bodies down into the tunnel. We could do with someone at the far end to keep the door secure,” he offered, raising his eyebrows and indicating the guards with a nod of his head. “These people are in a flap, and you just never know what they might do.”

Tina glanced around her. The militia section commanders were hurrying about, briefing their troops and ensuring that they were carrying out their duties. Down below in the open ground between the walls and the inner complex, a lot of people were standing around, huddled together in groups, and talking amongst themselves. She knew that it would only take one of them to start a ripple of panic that would quickly spread. There was no telling what could happen if enough of the survivors lost their heads and decided that they wanted to escape from the base.

She looked back at the guards. She doubted that they would be willing to do what was necessary to stop it if there was a revolt. There were not enough regular troops to cover all the weak spots, and if things got any worse they could face a mutiny that would potentially lead to a bloodbath. Tina knew from experience that when panicked, a mob of terrified people was capable of anything.

“Good,” she finally nodded to Paul. “Get Flash to go down there with them. He can keep an eye on things.”

For a few more minutes Tina and Al remained observing the crowds of dead beyond the perimeter. Beneath them there was a sea of rotting faces staring back up at them, wailing and reaching their hands up into the air, pleading for the living to join them.

“We need to get all the council together, and give them a heads up,” Al grunted, referring to the civilian leadership within the base. “I’d also recommend that we get everyone into the muster points. We’ll need to keep a tight grip on things around here with what’s going on.”

Tina nodded and turned for the stairs. They needed to put their evacuation plan into effect. They had written it out many years ago and had fine-tuned it ever since. Everyone knew their responsibilities and the various phases of the plan. They had rehearsed it hundreds of times with everyone involved.

Phase-one was already in progress. The entire base was on lockdown with all movement kept to a minimum. All personnel had received an initial briefing on the situation and were prepared to move on immediate notice. With the situation worsening, and to help with command and control, Tina now agreed that phase-two needed to be put into action.

Each and every member of the base’s population had a specific assembly area where they were to report to once that the evacuation process was implemented. One was in the recreation room, and the other was in the canteen. At the assembly areas, there would be the incident response teams, IRT. The IRTs consisted of an allocated ‘packet commander’ who was assisted by a section of eight militia soldiers from the QRF, quick reaction force, to help with command and control, and ensure that everyone was present with all essential equipment accounted for and close to hand. The packet commander would then liaise with Tina and Al, informing them once that they were all in position and ready to move. To help maintain an air of calm, the two senior council members had been chosen to act as the packet commanders rather than any of the military commanders. However, the councillors would not take any action unless authorised directly by Tina or Al.

With phase-two completed and everybody centralised at the muster points, it would be easier to control the survivors and prevent panic from spreading. Also, the passage of accurate information would be more efficient, keeping the civilians informed of the true facts and stopping the spread of rumours and conjecture. There the survivors would receive a full briefing on the situation, and then patiently wait for the next phase, the ‘move out’. However, the problem was that they no longer had a place to move out to. They had no vehicles and knew of no safe havens to head for. Once the move out began, they would be making it up as they went along.

Within twenty minutes the majority of the base’s population was crammed into the assembly points, leaving only the guard force in place along the walls. Tina and Al stood at the door of the canteen assembly area.

The civilians and off-duty personnel were sitting patiently at their designated assembly points and waiting to be briefed on the situation and intended course of action. A lot of the people there were watching Tina and Al, whispering to one another, and holding their families close. They were mostly made up of women with young children, and the old and the infirm. The majority of the able bodied men and women who did not have young families were out covering the perimeter or assisting the packet commanders in ensuring that order was kept and that the civilians were supplied with food, water, and blankets.

“What now?” Al asked, looking at his watch. “We’ve got everyone here, all dressed up but with nowhere to go.”

“We need to send out a recce through the sewers.”

She turned and looked up at Al. His face was drawn, and his eyes were sunken. He looked exhausted, and he was. It had been two days since he had last had any sleep. His nerves were shot, and his body was drained. Tina knew that she could not expect him to go off into the sewers in his current state of fatigue. He needed rest, and now that everyone was centralised, she wanted him to take advantage of the lull. She suspected that she would need him operating at full capacity in the near future.

“You look knackered, mate.”

“I’m on my chin-strap now, Tina. It’s been a busy couple of days.”

“Tell me about it,” she nodded.

She turned and looked at the assembled people in front of her. She needed to step up and speak to them to attempt to reinforce their morale and put their minds at ease. There would be many amongst them that would be close to breaking point, and it was now that she needed to reassure them.

“Go get some rest. I’ve got things covered here. I can give Greg or Paul a shout if I need anything.”

“What about the sewer recce?”

“I’ll send Flash or Greg.”

“I’d prefer to do it. I know the place better than they do.”

“Just go, and get some down time. If I need you, I’ll let you know. A few hours won’t make much of a difference. If I need to, I’ll manage without you. I don’t need you to wipe my arse for me.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you will. I’ll go and catch a few hour’s kip, but don’t send out the recce without me. Just one thing left to do first, though,” Al grunted as he began to turn away.