Smoke is seeping out from the edges of the fire door I exited, back down the path from me. It rises up and away from the building. I wonder if there is a fire in the storeroom, and that will prove to be the end of the Orion headquarters?
I turn my back on it, my concentration moving to work out the best direction to go. Heathrow is south-west from my position, and I want to get onto a main road. The last thing I want is to get caught on a narrow street with limited exits. A main road will also give me the best chance of coming across a military unit. With any luck, they will arrange transport, and if not, they will have comms—or at the very least, I can get some intel off them.
My brain calculates, running through a myriad of different directions I could take. I decide Bayswater Road is where I need to get to, that runs along the top of Hyde Park. Surely, Operation Denial has progressed as far as that by now, so I’m bound to find a military presence in that area? So, if I cross the bridge, I only need to move down one side street before I get onto Sussex Gardens, a main road that runs straight down to my objective, Bayswater Road.
My route decided, I prepare to move. Normally, it would be slow and low as I move; my back and legs won’t take that posture for the distance I’ll be going, though. So, it’ll be slow and upright and with no one covering my six it could be very slow. The M4 rises as I set off.
Moving from down the side of the small walking bridge, my head is soon level with the bridge’s walkway. I scan the approach to the bridge, which is clear, as is the bridge itself. My aim turns to the exit of the bridge, on the other side of the canal. There is a small courtyard with shops encircling it, positioned slightly back from the embankment. One of them is a convenience store and my dry mouth reminds me I need water. I don’t like the look of it, however, so my mouth will have to wait. Left will be my route off the bridge and then down to the small road which leads out of the basin and into the streets beyond. I scan the area on the other side of the bridge and immediately see one Rabid on the left side of the embankment opposite, directly on my route. It is standing in a state of stasis as they seem to do when there is nothing for them to attack. The rest of the route is clear, so I take aim, for a shot that is just inside the distance I am confident with. The silenced M4 hits its target, a direct headshot and the Rabid drops. There is no reaction to the kill shot and so I quickly move, lowering the rifle and mounting the bridge. Crossing the bridge in double time, constantly looking for new threats, feeling exposed and out in the open as I travel over the water. No new threats present themselves and I drop to take cover behind the end of the bridge as soon as I’m over, to rescan, the M4 raised in front of me.
Satisfied, I move again, across the embankment and past the dead Rabid, to the sidewall of one of the shops. Then I move left down the side, to the back corner of the building, where it joins the road.
My movements are once more second nature to me. After years of neglect, the last few days have re-sharpened my technique, my body moving in reflex. No targets are present along the path that carries on along the canal in front of me. I quickly re-check my six before concentrating on scanning around the corner of the building and the road that leads out of the Paddington Basin. The M4 leads my view as I slowly turn it around the corner of the building and onto the short road. My immediate impression is that the road is deserted. The dark, smoky overcast morning is deceptive though, and I take my time checking every dark corner possible, logging blind spots that could have anything lurking behind them. I pick my next hold point, which is behind a green broadband junction box and move, leaving the Basin behind.
So far, I have been lucky, deserted streets and one Rabid. Have the Rabids gone from this area having overhunted to find better feeding grounds, leaving a few stragglers behind, who couldn’t keep up or who got separated from the main pack? The state of the road tells me that chaos has ensued here. Rubbish is strewn all over the road, blowing around in the breeze from the numerous upturned rubbish bins. Windows in the houses and shops on both sides of the street are smashed and crashed, abandoned cars block the road. Time will tell, but I am certain my easy ride won’t last. Drama is near, and I can feel it.
Reaching the broadband box quickly, I scan again from the new angle, pick the next hold point, check my six and move. My next hold point, about a third of the way down the road, is behind a parked car. On the other side of the road, a house smoulders, smoke rising from a hole in its tiled roof. The fire must have been extinguished by the heavy rain last night. A body
