The Rule of Three

— 12 —

Jack rolled his shoulders, trying to warm up his aching muscles. It had been a long, sleepless night in the maintenance tunnels with Sarah and George. Every creak, every tap, had woken him. The fear of the creatures discovering their hideout had kept him from getting any more than a few minutes of sleep.

Jack checked his watch. It was finally nearing midday.

“Ready?” Jack said.

“Okay,” Sarah said, and helped George into a jacket. “Straight to my minivan?”

“Yes.”

When they hadn’t been able to sleep, Jack had borrowed some of George’s paper and written down what he thought they should do. Sarah had agreed about going to the evac centre, but her next question had been “What if?”

Jack had to admit that he thought there would be soldiers and officials there waiting for any stragglers. But what if no one was there? He had explained to Sarah about his cabin filled with supplies, tucked away from civilisation. The conversation went back and forth as Sarah tried to decide whether to go with Jack or try to reach family in the Bay of Plenty. After Jack had told her about the state of the main roads, she’d agreed to come with him and Dee.

Sarah nodded to him, indicating she was ready, and Jack carefully slid the bolt back, cringing with every squeak it made. As he lifted the trapdoor, he half expected one of the creatures to howl and sink its teeth into the top of his head. He still had the bachi hoe, but in the cramped space it would have been almost useless. Slowly he lifted the door higher, blinking in the bright sunlight that bathed the room above. He could see the broken glass from several windows and muddy scuff marks, but there was no sign of the creatures.

Jack hesitated halfway out, his mind casting back to the day before, to Duke and his men. He glanced down at Sarah and, taking a calming breath, lifted himself clear. After checking his surroundings, Jack was satisfied they had gone undiscovered. Sarah had chosen her foxhole well. The creatures had been here during the night, but thankfully, for whatever reason, they had moved on, searching for easier prey.

It was warm and sunny as Sarah drove them towards Cambridge. Jack swivelled his head from side to side as they whizzed past dairy farms and horse studs. He smiled to himself at the dozens of studs. If there was one thing Cambridge was well-known for, it was breeding thoroughbred horses. Jack thought about getting Sarah to stop so he could check to see if he could find a shotgun or two, but now that he was within twenty kilometres of Dee, he wanted to get there as soon as possible.

Ten minutes later, they entered the outskirts of the town and Sarah slowed the minivan to a crawl. Ahead of them, the street was littered with debris. Cars were parked haphazardly, some with doors open and engines running. One or two had stereos on, playing garbled music. Next to the cars were pools of blood, some fresh and red, others older and dark.

George gasped behind them. “Mummy!” he cried.

“Don’t look, George. Close your eyes. Okay, hun?”

Jack looked over his shoulder at the red-haired boy. He was still staring out the window, eyes wide. Taking it in.

Sarah had to weave the car around a few vehicles that had collided, scattering shattered glass across the road. Doors to several houses were open, their contents dispersed into gardens. Jack blew out a whistle at all he was seeing. It was panic. Chaos and panic. Those not infected by the virus had tried to flee, only to be caught by the creatures.

Sarah brought the minivan to stop and groaned. The narrow bridge ahead of them that spanned the Waikato River was jammed, making it impassable. This had been their last chance; they had tried the other two bridges already.

“That’s the last bridge for miles,” Sarah said. “Looks like we’re walking.”

“Let’s make it quick. The race course is about a ten minute walk from here.”

“I’ll carry George if you take my bag,” Sarah said.

Jack hefted his hiking pack over his shoulders and tightened the straps, making sure it was secured. Next, he hooked Sarah’s pack over his left shoulder so that he still had movement on his right. Enough to swing the bachi hoe if needed. He glanced at the sun and figured that they still had an hour at least before the beasts emerged.

Sarah lifted George to her chest and hugged him tight so his face was against her chest. She nodded that she was ready and Jack moved out and across the bridge. All the vehicles were empty of people, though their belongings remained, some spilled out on the ground. Jack picked up a couple of water bottles and the odd chocolate bar. As silently as they could, they skirted the main shopping area, taking a smaller side street that went around behind the shops. His nerves felt like a thousand needles stabbing him as he scanned the vicinity for the monsters, and for people like Duke. Jack didn’t ease the pace until they could see the evac centre up ahead.

As soon as he saw the race course, Jack knew something was wrong. It was the lack of movement. The lack of noise. Now that there was no one around, the ambient noise of human civilisation that always played in the background was absent. Surely they should’ve heard something, anything, as they approached?

He gently tugged at Sarah’s arm and ducked behind a row of trees. “Stay here,” he said.” It’s too quiet. I’ll go on and check it out.”

Moving as quietly as possible, Jack flitted through the woods from tree to tree, staying in the shadows and keeping the trunks between himself and the evac centre. Dark green army tents had been set out in rows. Interspersed between them were white medical tents with red crosses. Careful to not be seen, he crept up behind one of the tents and ducked in. Jack gasped at the sight that greeted him. Cots, blankets and clothing were jumbled about like a bull had gone crazy. Broken cups and glasses lay everywhere.

The same scene played over and over as Jack moved through the camp. Everything was chaos. Everyone had either run for their lives or been taken by the beasts. This wasn’t an evacuation centre; it was an extinction centre. Jack spotted a rifle lying next to a medical tent and jogged over. The stench coming from inside nearly overpowered him. When he ducked his head in, he saw beds, some empty and some containing people. Jack clamped a hand over his mouth to prevent himself retching. One of the infected was thrashing about on its bed, its skin blackened, bleeding from its eyes and ears. Jack scooped up the rifle and started to jog back to Sarah. As he ran, he kept an eye out for a vehicle. Jack was tired of running. Tired of this endless quest to reach Hamilton and the safety of Dee. He knew that if he could just reach Dee, everything would be okay. Dee had that way about her. She made you feel safe, feel that anything was possible.

Jack heard the throaty V8s rumbling up the road before he saw them. Duke. He cursed to himself. Of course that asshole would come sniffing around here. Probably after more guns and whatever drugs he could find.

Jack crouched down behind a tent and looked over his pilfered rifle. He recognised it as something the NZ Army used, but beyond that, he had no clue. He had no idea how to use it. He tried to recall what Dee had shown him with her dad’s guns. Surely they were similar? It didn’t take him long to find the safety switch. It had three settings. Safety, semi, and full. He clicked it to semi and tested pushing it into his shoulder. Apart from a shotgun, he had never fired a weapon before.

You’d better learn fast.

Duke and his men tore into the evac centre, three cars skidding their tyres in the mud. They each drove around in a circle, revving their engines. Jack cringed, fearful of the noise they were making. Fearful of the creatures coming for them and fearful of being discovered. Duke had let him go last time only to hunt him. Jack knew that this time he would be executed on the spot.

He kept an eye on Duke from his hiding spot. The man raised a clenched fist from his car window, halting the maddening din. Even from this distance, Jack could hear his shouted orders.

“Todd. Take Pixie and Mac, gather up all the weapons the army has so kindly left us. Nancy-boy, you and Alan are on drug duty. And if I catch you taking any, I’ll kill you myself. Jeff, we’re on food.”

The men exited their vehicles and walked away, leaving one person in Duke’s car. Jack squinted trying to get a better look. Emma? What was she doing here?

Jack gritted his teeth. These men strutted about in such a carefree manner that Jack wondered if they knew about the creatures’ habits at all. Not that he planned to educate them. He waited a few more minutes, listening to them as they plundered their way through the centre, crashing over unwanted supplies. The sounds reverberated around the race course, making him more nervous. Once they were far enough away, Jack rose and crab-walked to Duke’s red Holden Commodore. Emma was looking away from him as he clicked open the door and held up his hand.

Emma snapped her head around, her eyes bulging in surprise. She held up her hands, which had been cable-tied together and pointed to her feet.

Jack always carried a knife in his hiking pack. It was one of those objects that had so many uses, like duct tape. He made short work of the ties and tugged Emma through the car. They hugged briefly, Jack turned quickly, leading the way. It was easy to avoid Duke and his men. They made so much noise it was like a child care centre had been released in a toy shop.

Jack paused at the edge of the tents and glanced across the road. He could see Sarah’s bright red jacket amongst the trees, could sense her watching. With one last glance behind him, he gestured to the trees, pushing Emma in front of him. Jack clutched the rifle and followed her.