Chapter 117

Entering the stadium was looking to be easy and the route was straight to the pitch.

“Contacts!” Davids yelled from behind.

“Patel, stay at the front while I see what is happening.”

“Understood.”

I was moving around the group, trying to discover what was happening. The group had turned to face whatever threat was coming from behind. I could see that a fight was happening and escalating fast.

Figures were moving quickly, bypassing Davids and Holden. Getting in between the attackers and the rest of the team was a close-run thing.

The attackers were mutated zombies. They had tentacles and extended claws; this was going to be nasty. Several more forms ran past me.

Colliding with the lead attacker that past the others, my body was suffering under relentless punishment. Another wave of chill swept over me, but I held firm.

The zombie attacked again, slashing with its claws. My shield was up and blocking the attacks. Chips of composite materials flew as some strike gouged grooves into it. I was looking for an opportunity to counterattack.

Pushing forward, shoulder barging behind my shield. Knocking the zombie back and saw my opening. My axe was swung down in an attempt to hit its head, but it used its arm to block the strike. The axe ripped into its flesh but did not break the arm bone. Black blood oozed from the wound.

The tentacles were lashing back. They were thorned like the earlier ones but could not breach my armour. It was on the attack again. My shield arm was aching, but I could still block the attacks.

I kicked forward as the zombie led into a new attack. Its knee, the target of the kick, was holding most of its weight. Connecting with it came with a sharp crack sound as the zombie fell forward right into my shield as I bashed it to my right.

The tentacles tried to protect it. The zombie did not get a chance to get up as I blunged it with axe strikes. Gore flew in all directions. I was hacking through anything that tried to block me.

Looking around and getting my breathing back under control while assessing the situation was paramount. Fighting was all around. I identified my next target.

Running to the nearest zombie attacking a support team member. My axe crushes the back of the skull. A shock of impact travels up my arm. The zombie slumps forward as the team member retreats from it.

I move on to the next.

The fighting was intense, but as we quickly turned the tables on our attackers, we gained the upper hand. The final one fell only a few minutes after the fight started and we had to take stock.

“Patterson, check everyone. Davids, Holden, you both Ok?”

“Yes.” Davids looks to Holden, who nods in agreement.

“Ok. Go into the stadium and confirm that the route is clear. We will follow shortly.” They head into the tunnel that led to the pitch. I see lights from chemical sticks appearing as they light the route. That was a good idea.

“Patel, are you ok?”

“A bit banged up, but that’s it.”

“Right, we will guard everyone until we get going again. You go there and I will be over there.” Indicating where we will stand so that we can see each other. He moves into position, as do I.

I take stock of my condition in this lull.

Tired is the best description of my condition. Everything is aching. My back and arms are the loudest. My knees are giving a good account of themselves. Grave chill is aggravating all of it—the cold seeps into my joints. My muscles are sore and stiff. I am bruised all over. Looking over my armour, shield and axe, it was all covered in black blood and gore.

Mentally I am just as tired. The constant stress of the last two days has been taxing. The chill adds a heavy dose of depression, making everything even more fun. The mission duration has taken its toll on me. Adding in the fighting and adrenaline rush from each engagement. If I was this bad, the others are going to be worse.

Looking at the team members, I can see clearly due to the fog, their condition is apparent. Most are slumped over or sitting on the ground. All exhausted.

Thankfully we are almost…..

I am being watched!

The feeling comes suddenly. It races up and down my spine and every instinct I have put into a heightened state. Turning slowly as not to alarm my teammates or indicate to whatever is out there that I am aware of it, I face out into the fog. Looking across the area, I can only see the abandoned evacuation equipment and car parking spaces.

The fog swirls and drifts. My body is moving slowly, but my eyes are darting left and right, looking for any indication of what is out there.

I can’t see anything.

I had the sensation of being watched since before my long coma. I’ve suppressed the memories and trauma of that final fight. She had gone through a lot of mandated therapy, but some things sitting in a room and talking to someone who doesn’t or hasn't experienced what you have cannot do.

“Anything wrong?”

“Jesus! Sargent Patterson, you scared me.”

He had as I became so fixated on looking out at the fog that I had not noticed his approach from behind me.

“Sorry about that.”

“Now it’s my fault. I’m just tired and want to get this over and done with.”

“Well, you’re right and so does everyone else. I checked everyone over we got no additional injuries. But like you and me, everyone else’s exhausted.”

“That’s to be expected. But still, it’s unpleasant as hell combined with the grave chill.”

“You’re right. I’ve experienced it before but nothing like this. I expect most of us will be out of action for quite some time recovering from it.”

“Fun times ahead.”

He smiles at that comment knowing that a dark sense of humour and sarcasm are the backbone of the British military and how they cope with extreme situations. I turn and look out again into the fog with the feeling and still being watched, but as I expected, I can see nothing that would indicate the source.

“Davids should be back in a moment. As soon as he says it's all clear, we’re moving and positioning the sealing device next to the breach. Then we close it and get the fuck out of here.”

“Roger that!” Knowing that the mission was almost over did brighten his mood a bit.

Looking back to the entrance tunnel we would use to enter the stadium, I saw two figures emerging from the fog. Davids and Holden didn’t look any worse than they left. I decided to take that as a good sign.

“We are clear all the way through!” He called out.

“All right, let’s get going.” I replied.

There was a lot more grumbling as everyone stood and got moving again. They were all a bit slower as exhaustion was now taking its toll. This final push to get the device to the breach would be one of the worst, as humans always mentally find the last few steps the worst.

“Davids, you and Holden in front. Me and Patel rearguard.” The other three operatives nod and get into position. I use this opportunity to approach Hills to see how she’s doing quickly.

“How is the arm?”

“Throbbing like a bitch. But I’ll live.” Her face was white and I know she’s in a lot of pain.

“Don’t worry. Will be out here soon.”

“I know. Then I get an extended medical leave.” She seemed to perk up, looking forward to at least six weeks away from operative duties or training.

“That’s the spirit!” We laughed a bit as we separated and I headed to join Patel on the rearguard.

We start moving forward following the tunnel and the chemical light sticks that the thrown held by the way. It didn’t take long as Davids and Holden had moved anything that would have caused the block out of the way in advance.

We are merging onto the stadium pitch. Like outside, this area is strewed with abandoned items and debris. The breach is situated on the other half of the pitch and we can see it now. Even from here, we are feeling the effects of the breach's presence. The sense of unease and wrongness at the sight of its bubble is pronounced.

“Damn! That’s the largest space disruption bubble I have ever seen.” Patel exclaimed.

“Fuck me. You’re not wrong.”

I have to agree with him. The bubble was twice the size of the ones I had ever encountered before. This new fact made me pause and I suddenly realised we might have a problem.

“Sargent Patterson! Hold everyone next to the goal.” He turned, nodded to my order, and quickly stopped everyone. “Patel, keep an eye on the tunnel.”

I walk over to speak to Patterson and see that Davids is also coming over to see what’s happening.

“Who is the senior in the sealing team?”

“That would be me.” One of the people pushing the device speaks up.

“Great. I have one question for you. Can this device close a breach of that size?”

The man was spoken up, looked at the bubble and then back at me.

“Yes. These new Mark 2 slammer devices are rated for breaches twice the normal size. In theory, they can close one’s that are three times the size of the standard breach.”

“Okay, let’s get this finished. Remove the machine right up to the bubble and start the charging procedure. We are out of here once the charge has reached 50%.” Everyone agrees to this and moves the last few metres.

“Movement in the tunnel!” Patel calls out from behind us.

“Davids, Holden with me!” The three of us quickly run around and join Patel facing the tunnel. We can just make out signs of movement and six figures come charging from the fog.

“Ghouls!” Davids shouts out, alerting the support team behind us to expect.

There is no room for the ghouls to manoeuvre, so they charge forward. We form a skirmish line to stop them from reaching the others.

The clash as meet met is audible. One collides with me, but I am able to halt it. Pain flares through my arm and shoulder. Two power through us and engage the team members behind me. Grave chill sweeps over us again, reinforcing the chill we are already suffering. The cold is getting further into my joints and the core of my body.

Hitting back at the ghoul before me, I must finish this quickly. The ghoul is trying to push past my shield to get to me. The shield is holding up, but I am not able to counterattack.

My axe connects with the ghoul but cannot reach its head. Black blood flies from some hits but is not slowing down its attacks. It is pushing me back slowly, step by step.

Jumping forward during a brief lull in the attacks, my shield blunges the ghoul. The pain in my arm is flaring when we come into contact. It is knocked back. I drove my axe at its head. It is too slow in reacting and the axe blade drives deep into the front of the ghoul's skull.

It collapses backwards, dragging me forward, but I keep my hold of my axe. Freeing it from the dead ghoul, I look around, assessing the situation. It becomes clear we are in trouble.