The Fourth Phase

TWENTY

Where are the bodies? Maggie scanned the area around the 4x4. Three of its doors stood open, dark pools of blood stained the cobble stones, and empty shell casings lay scattered around. But no bodies. Maggie paused and breathed, searching for the tell-tale rotten fruit smell. She could detect faint decomposing garbage and the salty air of the ocean, but no Variants. She flicked her eyes up to the roof tops. The creatures loved to jump down from above. She had learnt that the hard way.

Maggie, like any veteran, reported for duty to the US Embassy in Wellington after they were recalled. She helped ferry American citizens to chartered planes flying home. The Commander promised that all personnel would be evacuated by the end of the week. She was then ordered to accompany a Marine platoon to rescue an official who had injured himself on a hike. Chopper extraction was out due to poor weather, so she and the Marines hiked into the Tongariro National Park. Into the mist, and back into hell. Variants swarmed over them in the car park, and they barely made it out with their lives.

Entering the town of Turangi, their rescue mission went south. Hordes of Variants harried them, attacking the APV. Running low on fuel, they pulled into a gas station. It all looked clear. Then a lone Variant jumped down onto the Staff Sergeant, tearing out his throat. It severely injured two others before they managed to kill it.

Maggie took over the driving from then. After the weather cleared, she radioed for extraction. Variants attacked them constantly, so to avoid the towns, Maggie started to take back roads, hoping to avoid any further entanglements. The chopper called in the new LZ.

Ten miles out, the injured soldiers turned and attacked the remaining platoon. In the confusion, Maggie slid off the road, damaging the APV. Now three remained of the original twelve. Maggie, the official, and some fresh-faced kid from Nebraska. On they ran, through the thick tussock grass of the volcanic plateau. With five miles to go, Maggie’s legs were burning: carrying the injured official was taking its toll. She sent the kid up ahead to scout since, from the looks of his skinny frame, he wouldn’t be able to take the load. Gritting her teeth, Maggie shifted the official and trudged on.

They saw the Army base in the distance, with choppers buzzing in and out. She tried the radio again, but only received static. She was relieved when the guardhouse came into view, and sent the kid up ahead for help.

His screams reached her and she watched, horrified, as he turned and ran. Two Variants chased him down, then tore him apart. She watched, frozen with indecision. Should she run? She was exhausted, and the official was useless. The Variants charged them. Maggie brought up her M4, letting off a burst. She hit one in the torso, causing it to tumble, knocking the other one down. She flicked the selector to auto and unleashed a barrage of metal death, unloading a full magazine into the still-advancing beasts. Even with their chests full of holes, black flesh torn off, they still crawled at her. Maggie clicked a new magazine and, flicking her selector back to semi, she shot both of them in the head. Finally, they lay still.

Maggie left the official in the guardhouse and went looking for either a radio or a vehicle to get them the hell out of dodge. Bloodcurdling shrieks filled the air as Variants leapt off the building rooftops, swarming the remaining soldiers on the base. Maggie fired, taking as many of the monsters down as she could. Soldier after soldier fell. A Jeep picked her and the official up, and they fled into the wilderness surrounding the base. Maggie looked west to the mountains, filled with guilt at their flight. She scanned the skies, looking for the chopper that never arrived.

After that, the Variants hunted her relentlessly. Maggie survived by sheer determination. Variants ambushed them on a bridge. Maggie killed as many as she could, but there were simply too many. The injured official was of no use. Variants swarmed over them. In desperation, Maggie pushed herself and the official off the bridge. Surprise turned to hope when the Variants stayed out of the water. They managed to cling to a floating log, shivering in the freezing water. The injured official died during the night from what Maggie suspected was hypothermia. Wary that she would follow the same fate, Maggie left the relative safety of the river and fled into the chaos. Alone, and far from home.

Maggie pivoted around 360, searching the rooftops, wishing she still had that M4 for the hundredth time. Nothing was wrong with the AR-15 she held, apart from the fact that the magazine only held seven bullets. Alice had explained it was to do with the firearm laws of New Zealand. Maggie had adapted a few magazines to take more, but not enough.

With no sign of Variants, she quickly shut the vehicle doors and turned the ignition. She said a silent prayer as the engine roared to life. Doing a three-point turn away from the fountain, she glanced back at the disappearing harbour with its boats◦— boats that could take her home. Home on the range, to the big open skies of Texas. Home to family. Sighing, Maggie concentrated on navigating her way through the inner-city streets of Tauranga. Earlier, she had been too busy firing at their attackers to take notice of their route. She quickly worked out that, like most cities, the streets were laid out in a grid. After a few turns, she found the main road and gunned the engine, urging more speed out of the 4x4. Sunlight reflected off several windshields a mile or so up the road. Hurrying to catch up, she slid into the back position of the convoy, taking up the tail-end Charlie spot. A radio squawked to life.

Maggie shuddered involuntarily.

“Who the hell is that at the back?”

She scrambled around, one hand on the wheel, the other searching for the radio.

“Answer me, back vehicle.”

Lifting up the center console, she found the black radio. What the hell was that guy’s name? Thinking quickly, she pressed the talk button. Coughing and hacking, Maggie made her voice as deep as possible. “It’s Terry.”

“Terry? From the farm?”

Keeping up her coughing, Maggie prayed it would disguise her American accent. “Yeah.”

“Terry, you sound awful. Where the hell have you been?”

“I stopped for a piss, then I got lost. Saw you guys drive past.”

“Okay. Did you catch the escapees?”

“Yup, shot the bitch. Kids are en route back to the farm.”

“About fucking time. I still don’t know how you idiots let some women escape with a bunch of kids. Follow us to the highway. I’m coming down to the farm tomorrow to sort your mess out. Over.”

“Okay. Copy.”

Maggie let out a breath and, tucking the radio beside her, turned the volume up so she could keep up with any chatter.

She followed the convoy as the road wound up the river valley and climbed its way up into the foothills, heading back to the Kaimai Mountains. Maggie counted twelve vehicles, mainly 4x4s like hers and a couple of white cargo vans. The flatbed truck on which the huge Variant with his grotesque trophy heads rode followed two lead vehicles. It reminded Maggie of a documentary she’d once seen on wolves. A couple of strong wolves led the pack through the snow, with the rest of the pack following.

The Alpha Variant had positioned himself behind two 4x4s, each with five of the creatures clinging to the roof racks. Even from this distance, she could see that they were bigger than most Variants. Maggie caught glimpses of red and the shadows of human collaborators through the windows.

As they climbed higher up into the clouds enveloping the bush-clad peaks, Maggie stole a few glances at the scenery. It was so green and lush. Tall forests of beech and podocarps hugged the rugged hills. She could understand why they had chosen to film Lord of the Rings here. It was perfect. Sweeping fields of grass curved away, and farm buildings dotted the landscape. Farms that had once held sheep and cattle, farms that once hummed with life. Maggie thanked God that Izzy was safe with Him and not living through this nightmare. She missed her princess every day. Thoughts of her daughter motivated her to continue fighting. Maggie could feel her looking down from heaven, protecting her. Maggie smiled. She really did have a guardian angel watching her.

Good. I need all the help I can get for this crazy mission.

Doubts nagged at her with every mile. Was she doing the right thing? Would Alice get Becs, Leela, and the other kids to the safety of Mayor Island? Maggie knew she couldn’t leave the kid Alice knew to the horrible fate that awaited him. What was his name? Bruce? Brian? Something like that. She knew she had to find out where these kids were being taken. If she died saving them, then at least she would know she had died trying. She could be at peace, and finally be with Izzy and God.

Maggie brushed away her doubts and thoughts as the road finally breached the crest of the peak and began its descent. She gasped at the view. A patchwork of fields lay spread out like a giant quilt, stretching away to the west, to the spine of green mountains that ringed the plains. She grinned at the sight. Even during the apocalypse, nature had a way of taking hold of her and capturing the moment. It forced its beauty into her memory, to be thought of and appreciated at some future time. She drove on, her trepidation growing.

The convoy slowed, edging its way between a knot of cars that had tangled with a truck. The truck had jackknifed and snagged itself on the fences. Burned out husks of cars had been pushed aside, allowing enough room for the convoy to pass. The truck carrying the Alpha passed through the gap, scraping against the crashed lorry. The shriek of metal on metal rang in Maggie’s ears, making her shudder. Another higher-pitched shriek echoed out and Maggie watched, mesmerised, as a black wave of Variants poured out from behind the abandoned cars, attacking the convoy.

Maggie slammed on the brakes, bringing her 4x4 to a skidding stop. She glanced in the rearview mirror, checking her six for an escape. More Variants poured out from the fields to attack the convoy, cutting off that option.

Her radio blared to life. “Stay down!”

Chaos erupted as the Alpha bellowed, a terrifying deep howl that shook her bones as it reverberated up through the metal floor of her vehicle. The Alpha jumped down off the truck. The Variants from the two lead 4x4s sprang into action. Five of them jumped up onto the flatbed truck, forming a semicircle around the two kids slumped against the cab. The other five grouped around the Alpha, shrieking and howling.

Maggie locked her doors and grabbed her rifle. The attacking Variants ignored her and the others in red coveralls. Instead, they attacked the convoy Variants. Claws drawn and sucker mouths smacking, the two rival groups smashed into each other. They tore hunks out of flesh and snapped limbs. Maggie watched, horrified, as the huge Alpha waded through the melee, plucking Variants off the ground and snapping their necks with flicks of its huge claws. It speared a creature with a claw and bit off its head with one snap of its mighty jaws. New howls joined in the racket. She turned her head, and watched as a new horde joined the battle to fight alongside the Alpha and its Variants. Tearing, snapping, clawing. As the Variants continued to fight each other, there was no mercy given, no quarter. This was a fight to the death. A no-prisoners massacre.

The Alpha and the new arrivals made short work of the attackers. She watched as some of the attacking Variants were chased down and disposed of. With a final huge bellow, the convoy Variants jumped back onto their rides and the convoy started to move off again, heading west. Maggie shook her head. It was as if nothing had happened. She pulled her cap down tighter over her head, and prayed her disguise would last awhile longer. As she crept the 4x4 through the gap, she could see the victorious Variants picking up the bodies of the dead and lumbering away across the fields.

Maggie held up a shaking hand. She had faced the Taliban in Afghanistan and insurgents in Iraq, but seeing the Variants battle each other had shaken her to the core. She gripped the steering wheel, willing herself to stay strong. She had some kids to rescue.

Maggie glanced up to heaven. Look out for me, Princess. Mom has to fight a demon.