Aleksey nodded. Ben had probably mentioned zombies too. The level of irony would kill him one day, if pneumonic-anthrax-antibiotic-resistant-delayed-death-enhanced plague didn’t get him first. All he’d wanted to do was mention the war.
He had no choice. He lunged for the man who’d pushed Rachel.
He was fast, but the soldier, Bailey, didn’t have to do anything other than pull a trigger. And he was good. The infantry usually were. But with rifles. Only officers carry pistols and so the round only sliced along Aleksey’s cheek. The shot was so loud, and his ears rang so badly, that he didn’t even know he’d been hit at all until Rachel screamed, and then he felt searing heat and a familiar warm gush of blood. But he was still standing. Until he wasn’t. His knees buckled, and he went down, putting one hand to the cold concrete floor, the other to his face.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Two
Austin and his two thugs moved backwards towards daylight, dragging Max with them. Then they shut the doors, and Aleksey heard the sound of a large wooden beam being dropped into metal brackets. He staggered to his feet and flung himself at the obstruction. He nearly passed out with the pain when his shoulder connected. He heard Austin shout, ‘Get the cars. Get the others. We can catch the last ferry if we leave now! Go!’
Max replied in a shaky voice, ‘If the girl opens it…this island is very remote, Ben said. It won’t escape, Austin. It’s the best case scenario…’
‘Shut the fuck up! It’s all we’ve got—that one canister. It took us ten years, Max, ten years to make. What the fuck good is it released on a desolate fucking island? I don’t care if two fucking kids die! I want themallgone! I wanteveryoneto die! Don’t you get it? Voluntary Human Extinction! My God, when will you wise up to what’s happening in the world?’
‘Voluntary, Austin. Do you hear yourself!Voluntary.’
There was a pause. Aleksey slumped against the door, his shoulder possibly dislocated. He knew what the madman was going to say. He just knew.
‘Yeah, well, we just redefined the word voluntary. Let’s go. We’ve got a long drive.’
Aleksey saw a crack beneath the door and with great difficulty got his face down so he could watch. There were two large SUVs and the men he’d already seen, Wright and Bailey, had been joined by the man who’d been washing the bike. Another three were coming out of one of the blocks. Silently, as a slick unit, they got into the vehicles. Austin stuffed Max into the backseat of one, and he climbed into the passenger seat and they took off.
Aleksey turned and sat against the doors. He tried bracing his feet and pushing. ‘Look for something I can use.’
Rachel bobbed her head, but said anxiously, her hand going to her own face, ‘You’re bleeding…really badly.’
‘I’ve bled before. Go.’
She went back into the other room and he heard the sound of wood being hit or kicked. He remembered her soft, unsuitable shoes, and clambered once more to his feet. His head swam badly. He felt he was going to pass out and put a hand to the door for a moment. Then he made his way to the other room and joined in with his boots. He could only kick with his good leg, and once more wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. At least he was shot on the other side so he balanced out a little.
Rachel finally pulled at his arm and shook her head. ‘I need to stop the bleeding. Wait.Stop.’ She made him sit with his back to the wall as she inspected his cheek. She made a face he didn’t like, but what did anything matter? He’d been shot in the face. Molly was carrying the Black Death. One hardly counted against the other.
‘It’s your lucky day.’ He turned his eyes to her. She made an apologetic grimace. ‘Well, sort of.’ She pulled off her over-the-shoulder bag and rummaged. The fluorescent light above them suddenly flickered but then steadied. Aleksey, already nauseous, pulled his gaze away from the fly-encrusted cover.
‘Please tell me you are looking for your phone.’
‘No, sorry, I left it charging in the car.’
‘Ah. Not so lucky then.’
‘Ta da!’ She finally pulled out a packet of table napkins. ‘I lose everything in this bag. Look, I was bringing them for lunch with Max because he never has any. Typical bachelor. I had these left over from Christmas. Sorry about the little snowflakes.’ She gently pressed a thick stack to his face. ‘Hold this.’
He nodded, but levered himself to his feet. Holding the temporary bandage he resumed to trying to break one of the rifle racks, but they were made deliberately to resist such assault, and he could make no inroad on them.
He returned to the door and flung himself against it again. It didn’t improve the dislocation, and the door didn’t seem to move a bit.
He sank down again.
There were no windows—this was an armoury.
He felt panic overwhelming him, so uncharacteristic that he realised how much effort he had put into changing, to being a better man, to allowing himself to relax, to love and to be loved.
But, obviously, he was not so uncharacteristic as to actually tell Ben where he was and what he was doing. He brightened fractionally. ‘Did anyone know you were coming here today?’
Rachel peered up from another rummage in her bag. ‘Well, Max did.’
He didn’t dignify that with a reply.
