Winters knows exactly what will happen to the money. The Colonel will leave it in his care for a suitable amount of time until it is forgotten about and then it will disappear into the Colonel's coffers. He is never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, as Winters knows well.
“What is the latest report on the progress of Operation Denial, Sir?” Winters asks Major Rees as he hands over the wads of cash for Winters to stuff into his satchel.
“Bad, Lieutenant; our forces are making little progress in clearing the city and forcing the infected people east. The area is so large there are simply too many streets and buildings to clear. Most zones are bogged down in trying to clear their areas and engaging in running battles with the infected. And of course, if our troops lose a battle or even a skirmish, they invariably turn and are added to the army of infected, so it’s a double-edged sword.”
“So, I take it there is a lot riding on you finding something in those files, Sir?”
“I think Command are pinning their hopes on a cure or a weapon being found in this bag. I’ve told the Colonel numerous times that it is a long shot, but he doesn’t want to listen.”
“That doesn’t surprise me in the least, Sir.”
“The man is an acquired taste, that is for certain,” Major Rees says, nervous about deriding the Colonel in front of his assistant.
“He certainly is,” Winters confirms, also keeping his opinion to himself. “Okay, let’s get you set up with what you need, Sir,” he adds as the Major finishes repacking the holdall.
Chapter 4
The flesh on its body burns like volcanic lava, the skin threatening to melt away and drip from its body, its organs boiling, adding to the excruciating searing pain. Encased within its melting body are its bones which feel as brittle as if they had been dipped and frozen in liquid nitrogen, and the slightest impact would risk making them splinter, crack and break.
Movement is impossible, the agony too great. The half-dead creature is motionless in the pitch black with only its nightmares for company.
The creature retches uncontrollably. Toxic, acid bile oozes out of its gaping mouth, flowing down its body and legs onto the floor to join the shit and piss already pooled there. Its retching causes its body to convulse, involuntarily sending its pain level rocketing to greater, unknown heights. Passing out from the agony, oblivion brings temporary relief from the torture.
Memories flash through the creature’s unconscious mind while it is passed out, the pain blocked by its brain. Fleeting memories of its children disappear too quickly to grab and hold onto.
Images swirl around in its brain from across its life, some happy ones, ones it is unconsciously grateful to see again, but they are overpowered by images the creature would rather forget. Images from its years on the battlefield, the blood and guts of the twisted bodies of its enemies and comrades. The terrible images move out of focus, only to be replaced by other horrific images. The creature’s mind had buried them years ago but now they are unlocked and gush out like blood from a slit artery, coming to torment it.
Consciousness returns, bringing the impossible agony with it. More bile bubbles from deep within the creature and starts to rise through its gut. ‘No, no,’ its mind screams, it cannot go through another bout of retching, the pain is too much to bear. It can feel the noxious fluid rising though, and it cannot be stopped; the creature’s dry mouth liquifies and the inevitable retching begins again. The creature tries to accept the excruciating pain the retching delivers, tries to let the fluid evacuate its guts, to get it over with. It tries to blank it all out and let it happen.
Thick fluid bile bursts from its throat in streams, following down its usual path to the floor. Revolting chunks follow the liquid and the creature has to cough them up through its throat and spit them out to stop itself choking, its pain levels soaring higher. Is the virus rejecting its body’s organs? Are they being liquified and ejected through its mouth, no longer required?
The remnants of the creature’s mind attempt to figure out what is happening to it, but its thoughts are a jumbled mess, incoherent, the agony overriding everything. The creature’s hand twitches in the hope that the Glock is still in it so that it can raise it to its temple, squeeze the trigger and end this nightmare, but the creature’s hand is empty.
A chunk is wedged in the creature’s throat and it prepares for the onslaught of pain that will hit when it has to try and dislodge it. Before it can prepare, though, the creatures body spasms and the coughing starts in reflex to clear its throat. The coughing causes more retching, yet the chunk remains lodged. The creature’s brain is overloaded with pain as the spasms increase and it starts to shut down. Any semblance of balance is lost as it spasms and its body tilts and slides sideways across the cupboards behind it until its tilt goes past the point of no return. The creature's body falls slowly down onto the floor and onto its side. Thankfully the creature’s brain has shut down and only its unconsciousness saves it from the agony of the fall.
This time, there are no memories or images to accompany it, only darkness and oblivion.
Chapter 5
Josh feels his sister’s sobbing has calmed slightly. Emily lies against him as they sit on the couch facing the TV where Emily and Stacey were when he arrived.
Emily has taken the news of her Dad as badly as Josh had feared. She is still too young for any attempt
