“Alright, Mick, things still quiet on this side?” I ask as I reach him.
Mick gives me a quizzical look, “I wouldn’t say anything is quiet today, Andy, but they do seem to be concentrating over there. That is where they will make their move and I don’t think it’s going to be too long before they do.”
Looking out, I see exactly what he means. The second bunch has grown, but over this side, the concentration of Rabids is a lot thinner. I can even see the ground of the courtyard in small areas.
“We are getting supplies together now so we’ll be moving sooner rather than later.”
“Right you are, mate, I’ll let you know if anything happens in the meantime.”
“Thanks, Mick.”
Just as I am about to go and check in with the other lads, I see Jill coming out of the canteen heading towards the lift, carrying the box of plundered food from the vending machine.
“I’ll get that for you, Jill,” I say jogging over to her.
“That’s okay, Andy. I’ve got it; can you just press the lift button for me?”
“Sure,” I reply and do exactly that for her, the lift doors opening immediately just as Jill arrives with her box.
“Here, let me take that,” I say whilst swinging my M4 on its strap around to my back. The box isn’t that heavy, and I put it in the corner of the lift.
“Here they come!” someone shouts at the top of their voice.
Turning out of the lift, I see Jill has a look of panic on her face and she moves towards the sanctuary of the lift. I reach to my back and pull the M4 around; in a second, it’s resting in both my hands, pulled into my shoulder and pointed forward towards the windows in front of the four men.
I take a couple of steps forward and then drop to one knee, the M4 now primed and trained, seeking out targets. Ian has turned away from the windows and is running for his cover next to Steve.
“How many?” I shout, at the same time reaching with my left hand. I turn my radio which is attached to my chest towards my mouth, press the receiver and shout, “Incoming!”
Turning his head slightly, Steve responds, “A shitload! Fifty plus, at least. Jesus fucking Christ!”
In my peripheral vision, I see Mick has moved forward and is now aiming his M4 at the target area; he too has taken up a firing position down on one knee.
The foyer is suddenly quiet for a second in anticipation, Jill now moved off into the lift, but the doors are still open, and her head is out slightly, looking towards the window. Stan's advice flashes through my mind about not being a hero…and about how Emily needs me. My heart flutters, a mild palpitation, but just for a second or so. I cannot let my personal situation stop me from taking action; dammit, I have to focus!
I could retreat now into the lift and go up to my girl, telling Stan to lock this floor off from the rest of the building, and then make myself safe and have done with it all. But that’s not in my DNA; I cannot leave my men to their fate or the staff who are still down here for that matter. This task is mine.
"Jill?"
"Yes, Andy." Her voice is nervous, breaking up slightly.
"I need you to go back through to the canteen right now and get everybody to evacuate up to the sixth floor. Tell Dan to send some men to cover the canteen doors. Can you do that for me?"
There’s silence for a moment, but then without a word, Jill runs out from the lift behind me, across the foyer floor and back into the canteen. The lift doors close behind her.
Just as she makes it into the canteen, the first Rabid hits the window—a man, is all I can tell from the silhouette, but he or it bounces off the window and falls back out of sight. The thud is loud and travels through the foyer. The tension is palpable, and I can feel us all tense up, preparing ourselves for battle.
"Hold your fire,” I instruct. "Wait for my order. Take head shots when you can. If not, take out the legs. Stop the fuckers moving in on us!” Nobody voices a disagreement. The air is thick with tension.
Shadows appear across the windows, many shadows…and then they hit. Rabids, one after another, slam into the glass in front of us, more or less in the same place as if they are all targeting the same window. And the window is rattling under the bombardment. Some of them fall away back into the mass, but some are sliding and falling onto the ones below, building up the numbers already there. Then, just as I am starting to take in this bombardment and thinking the window may hold, they start hitting the glass in numbers, in twos, in threes…and more. The window is rattling badly now, the actual glass holding but the fixings straining to hold together. With the constantly added-to weight of the Rabids pushing up against the window, together with the force of the ones hitting it with force and intent, it’s inevitable that the window won’t hold. And it now seems obvious it never could.
A group of three hits simultaneously and the window gives way slightly at the top left-hand corner, the fixings cracking and breaking under the pressure. For a second, I kid myself into thinking that it may hold and keep these fucking things out, that we are safe in our modern high-tech, high-security tower, that the carnage outside can’t get into us.
But I am very wrong. Of course, I am.
One hits the window top left and grabs on through the gap that has appeared, then starts to pull itself up. More cracking sounds are heard, and the gap increases, the Rabid now pushing its head face-first and sideways through
