The breath wheezed out of his bruised chest, and sparks of yellow light danced in his vision. The Variant straddled him, its powerful legs pinning him down. Claws dug into his remaining leg, while others grasped his shoulders. George screamed at it. It turned his head and shrieked at George. Boss used the distraction to pull the machete free and swing it, yelling out in frustration. He drove the sharpened edge deep into the Variant’s neck. It shrieked and reached up to grab the embedded blade, and yanked it free. It leant back, howling, holding its claws to the gushing wound, trying to stem the flow of black blood pouring out. Boss scrambled free and stood up. He pulled his Glock from his holster and looked into its eyes. The reptilian slits stared back at him, its nictitating membrane flicking. He raised the gun and pointed it at the Variant’s head. The creature that was once a human reached up and grasped his leg. Recognition grazed across its eyes. Boss felt a fleeting moment of sorrow for the monster as he squeezed the trigger, ending its nightmare. Without looking back, he grabbed George and pushed the boy ahead. They hopped off the deck and scrambled up the bank, heading into the bush. Branches scratched his exposed arms.
Boss turned back and looked down into the once-idyllic bay. Flashes from muzzle fire sparked out like a fireworks display gone wrong. The luxury yacht tied up at the jetty was still burning, thick white smoke billowed out. The huge flames licking the wooden jetty, threatening to consume it. His eyes darted left and right, catching glimpses of fighting all over the bay. Soldiers ran, turning and firing. Variants bounded and chased after them, tearing apart those fleeing. The bulk of the Variant infestation had crowded around the old hotel and the bunker behind. Sgt. Haere had rallied the troops to protect those inside. A steady stream of monsters threw themselves at the thousands of bullets spewing into them. Boss shook his head, the sounds of the battle rattling around in his mind. So much death, so many lives ended. The Variants would kill them all until no one was left. Until humanity was but mementoes etched in stone.
He shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself up the clay bank, ducking under the manuka trees. He breathed in deep, savouring the oily scent. George was scrambling through the leaf litter up ahead, making little pebbles and rocks bounce off Boss as he followed. The pain in his stump was becoming unbearable. He had some painkillers in his pack that he was desperate to take, but the ever-closer screeches forced him to push the pain aside. Pausing, he pulled on the leather straps, tightening the prosthetic. Howls and screeches followed them, getting closer. They reached a clearing and Boss glanced around, searching for the white crushed-shell paths that ringed the island. Screeches from the horrors that chased them sounded out, and he cringed. Making a choice, he pushed George up the bank, farther up the hill.
“Keep going, G-man. Higher,” he whispered.
George pulled himself up the slope, his little hands grabbing onto whatever roots he could find. Up they climbed, away from the terrifying noises of the battle below, away from the sights of limbs being torn off, of intestines sloshing onto the ground. Away from the Variants sinking their sucker mouths onto flesh, tearing off chunks of muscle. Boss hated to run; he felt like he was betraying all those fighting down in the bay. But he and George ran away to save themselves.
The lactic acid burned in his tired leg, making it feel like jelly. They finally reached the path he was searching for. Gasping in some deep breaths, Boss could see the steep, jutting rocks of the volcano peeking through the Olearia trees a few metres down the path.
George reached back and, grabbing his hand, pulled him. “This way, Boss.”
A crashing sound behind them rang out. Boss pivoted, his rifle raised, searching for a target. A figure crashed out of the undergrowth and skidded on the shell path, followed by a blur of black and white. Max, Boss realised.
Boss slid his finger off the trigger guard, ready to put a bullet into the figure. His eyes went wide as he saw blonde hair. He reached down and yanked her to her feet. “I nearly shot you, Beth. Bloody hell!”
Beth dusted some of the white shells off her pants and top. “Sorry. We need to go. They’re not far behind me.”
Boss handed her his rifle. “Okay. Here, take this.”
Beth reached out and clasped it. “Thanks, what about you?”
Boss grinned at her and reached behind, extracting his shotgun. “Say hello to my boomstick.”
She smiled at him.
Boss sighed inwardly. He would find a girl he liked in the apocalypse. He looked over to George, who was hugging Max. Boss reached over and rubbed the dog’s head. “Aye Boy.” Seeing the dog calmed him somewhat. Then Max’s snarled, teeth bared. Boss frowned and turned.
Beth’s eyes went wide. She grabbed his arm, yanking him away. “Go! They’re coming!”
Screeches and howls followed Beth’s warning.
Boss cursed. He was tired, stressed, and angry. He could feel the fury building down in his gut. Angry at those that had caused this nightmare, angry at the collaborators helping the new apex predators. But most of all, angry at himself for not being able to do more. Losing his lower left leg had scarred him mentally just as much as physically, maybe more so. He felt useless, not whole. A piece of him was missing physically, and a piece was missing on the inside. Without Dee here to help centre him, he struggled. She had a way of calming him. Jack had told him it was Dee’s greatest latent quality: she could calm you with a smile, assure you with a simple touch or look. He’d said that some people have that gift, as though a calming aura emanated from them. Boss smiled to himself. He looked up ahead, to Beth and George running. He was going to get them to safety, or die trying.
A screech jolted him back to reality. He stopped. Spinning on his good leg, he searched for the source. A couple more screeches sounded out, this time from above. Boss glanced up. Several pairs of reptilian eyes flashed back as figures scrambled down the rocky face of the volcano. Beth was a little ahead of them by a few metres.
“Run, Beth!”
She glanced up and saw the creatures. Two of the Variants leapt down in front of her. She raised the rifle and fired a couple of shots, hitting each of the beasts in the torso. They dropped to all fours and let out horrifying screeches. Beth turned, horror plastered on her face. Her lips trembled as she looked first back at Boss, then out to sea. Boss watched, stunned, as she took a few steps back and then sprinted off the cliff, her body vanishing from view.
“NO! Beth!”
He stared at the point where Beth had vanished. A swirl of conflicting emotions flashed through his mind. Why had she done that?