‘A plague won’t stop fanaticism. It’s not a solution. Nothing that can kill so many innocent people is a solution.’
‘That’s not the way I see it,’ replied Crawford.
Jason tipped his head towards the nuke. ‘Time’s fleeting. Best make your move now if you think you might have a chance at saving your pets.’ He could see in Crawford’s frenzied gaze that a bleak realization was taking hold.
Crawford stepped closer, forcing Jason to back-step to the open edge of the platform near the ladder.
Then something popped up over the lip of the platform and a bright light suddenly flashed in Crawford’s eyes, making him raise his left hand to shield them.
Jason sprang at Crawford, grabbed his flak jacket with both hands and planted his right foot in Crawford’s stomach. He tugged the colonel forward while dropping his back on to the platform in a somersault and using the momentum to flip Crawford upwards. He thrust his legs and the colonel launched over the edge of the platform.
Clinging to the ladder with the flashlight in his hand, Meat ducked as Crawford went airborne.
‘No-o-o-o—!‘ Crawford yelled as he did a full twist. He landed hard on his back. His head smacked against the rocky ground, but the helmet spared his skull from being split open. The rats immediately retreated from the repeller so that a wide circle opened up around him.
Meat pointed the light down at him. The colonel’s body was contorted into a pretzel shape. The left leg was bent completely sideways; the right arm pinned beneath the torso. With his left arm, however, he was struggling to retrieve the M-16 that had landed just out of reach. There was no movement below the waist. ‘That’s gonna leave a mark.’
‘Thanks,’ Jason said, holding a hand out for Meat.
‘What are friends for?’ Meat said, clasping Jason’s hand and stepping up on to the platform.
‘Aaaaaaah!’ Crawford screamed in frustration, his outstretched left arm still half a metre from the rifle. He glared at his ruined legs, trying to will a response. But there was zero movement. ‘Damn it, Yaeger! You broke my fucking back!’
‘What’s the matter … colonel’s got a boo-boo?’ Meat cajoled.
‘We can’t mess around, Meat,’ Jason said. ‘We don’t have much time.’
81
‘Hey, buddy,’ Jason said, kneeling beside Hazo. He used his knife to cut Hazo’s wrist free from the railing. Hazo’s complexion was sickly and trickles of blood were dribbling from his nostrils and ears. ‘Looks like you’ve had a tough time since we’ve been gone.’
‘I do not feel so well, Jason,’ Hazo muttered, his eyes distant and cloudy.
‘We’re going to get you out of here. Are you able to stand?’
‘No. I’m too dizzy.’
‘I’ll carry you.’
‘No … no.’
‘Fine,’ Jason said. ‘Meat will carry you.’
Hazo managed a thin smile, waved his hand dismissively. ‘Is it true that Al-Zahrani is dead?’ he asked, looking directly into Jason’s eyes.
Jason couldn’t lie. ‘Yeah, buddy. He’s dead.’
‘This disease killed him? This plague that is inside me?’
Jason hesitated. ‘We didn’t find him in time. We weren’t able to treat him.’
‘Is there a treatment, Jason?’ Hazo asked, his voice weak.
Jason didn’t know what to say. The medic was dead and according to Tommy Flaherty, Stokes had indicated that there was no vaccine. Finally, with his heart in his throat, he shook his head.
‘Can I spread this to others?’
Jason swallowed hard and felt a surge of emotion fill his chest. He could tell that Hazo already knew the answer, but needed him to make peace with it. ‘Yes.’
‘Then I must stay here. You know that.’
A feeling of utter helplessness wrenched Jason, made his head numb. He’d already lost two men today.
‘Jason, we’ve got a problem,’ Meat said, monitoring the scene below. ‘The rats. They’re moving closer.’ He also noticed that the tiny yellow light on Crawford’s walkie-talkie that had been blinking in a steady rhythm had now turned to a sporadic pulse. ‘I think Crawford’s gizmo got a good jolt when he hit the ground. Looks like it’s fading out.’
Jason glanced at the nuke’s digital counter. Fifteen minutes, eight seconds. There was no way they could carry Hazo outside in time. And with a broken back, Crawford wouldn’t be making it out either. Unfortunately, there’d also be no time to interrogate the colonel.
‘Hazo’s right,’ Meat said. ‘We don’t have much time. And there’s no way we can allow these rats to get out of here. Let the nuke do its job. It’s the best option we’ve got to stop this thing from spreading.’
Jason nodded and turned his attention back to Hazo. ‘You’re a great man, Hazo. Your family will be very proud when I tell them what you’ve done.’
Meat peered down at Crawford again and his eyes went wide. Though the colonel had given up on the M-16, he was now using his good arm to make a play for the apple-sized grenades clipped to his vest. ‘Oh you fucker,’ Meat hissed, baring his teeth. ‘Don’t even think about it!’ He raised his rifle, took careful aim at Crawford and squeezed off three rounds. One of the rounds split the colonel’s wrist, the other two sank deep into the bulletproof flak jacket.
Crawford bellowed out in pain and spewed a string of obscenities at Meat.
‘And that goes double for you too,’ Meat replied, grinning.
‘Thank you, Jason,’ Hazo said. ‘Thank you for showing me hope when I saw nothing but despair. When I meet my father again, it will be with dignity. Now you must go. Please.’
82
Meat descended the ladder while monitoring the scene directly below: rats streaming up and down the ramp leading into the container, as if staging a raid.
‘Make sure you don’t get bit,’ Jason warned, as he gripped the ladder’s side rails and swung his foot out on to the top rung.
‘Duh,’ Meat muttered. Reaching the lowest rung, he leaped out over the horde and landed safely in the shrinking circle of clear ground that surrounded Crawford.
When Jason looked over at the colonel, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Crawford was now hammer-swinging his mangled hand at his walkie-talkie, trying to smash it. ‘Meat! Stop him!’
Meat dashed over to the colonel and grabbed the thrashing arm with both hands. ‘Give it up, Crawford!’
‘Fuck you!’ the colonel seethed, grimacing from the pain.
Cranking the arm down, Meat dropped his knees on to it, pinning it hopelessly to the ground.
Jason jumped down off the ladder and came up behind Meat.
Crawford’s entire body quaked from the adrenaline coursing through his system. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing!’ he ranted madly. ‘Don’t let them win! It’s them or us! Don’t you see?!’
‘Yeah, yeah …’ Meat said, snatching the blood-covered walkie-talkie from Crawford’s belt. ‘I’ll take this, thanks.’ He tossed it to Jason.
Crawford spat in Meat’s face. ‘You’re a disgrace!’
Using his sleeve to wipe the saliva from his cheek, Meat replied sarcastically, ‘And aren’t you just sweet as a cupcake?’
‘Take his grenades too,’ Jason said.
Meat plucked the three grenades from Crawford’s flak jacket and clipped them to his own belt.
Meanwhile, Jason went over to retrieve Crawford’s fumbled Bowie knife, which had landed within inches of the advancing wall of vermin. Crouching to grab the knife, he stared at the mind-boggling infestation — a sea of beady eyes filled with unnatural bloodlust. He was certain that plague DNA alone couldn’t account for the rats’ wild behaviour. What had Stokes been feeding them? He stood and paced over to Crawford.