CHAPTER SIX

 

 

THERE WAS NO point in asking how things had taken such a turn for the worse, this quickly.

They had, and not for the first time, so that was that. Now it was simply a case of dealing with them. Though how this was ever going to be resolved was anyone’s guess.

“Why don’t they just make their goddamn move?” asked Jack, standing next to him on the battlements of the outpost, looking out at the forest ahead, then looking up and seeing the sky was growing dark. It would be night soon; they’d probably come then.

The monsters.

Of course, there were no such things. Robert used to tell Stevie that, when he swore blind there were goblins and all kinds of hideous creatures hiding in his wardrobes, or under his bed. Humans were bad enough—the things they did to each other—without anything supernatural adding to the mix.

He cast his mind back to when they’d arrived at the fort, hours ago. To when that local Ranger had also sworn he’d seen monsters. That is, until he’d passed out from blood loss. Medic Cole had tried to stabilise him as best he could—which wasn’t easy, as what passed for a med-bay at the outpost had also been trashed—but the man needed urgent medical attention.

Nobody asked the obvious question: what had happened to the rest of the contingent? Nobody really wanted to know.

“Get on the radio, we need to call this in,” said Robert to a young female Ranger called Poynter. And that’s when they’d encountered their first problem. None of the radios in the vehicles they’d been travelling in worked, she reported. And the same went for the battered jeeps they’d found in the yard, the radios in them still strangely intact.

“Could be just a problem with the signal out here,” suggested Lagorio once more; they were, after all, surrounded by hills. But Robert, Jack and Azhar thought otherwise.

“They have... had a radio,” said Robert. “But something tells me it wasn’t working even before it was busted up.”

“Some kind of jamming?” said Jack, scratching his chin. “You’re thinking whoever struck this place knocked out communications first, right?”

“It’s definitely a possibility,” Robert replied. “And way too much of a coincidence.”

That didn’t help the poor local Ranger, however. So Robert suggested sending him off with Cole and an armed guard, to get the medical attention he needed and to alert the authorities. For all they knew, those people were still working under the assumption that there had been some kind of communications breakdown rather than an enforced blackout.

So, a handful of Italian troops accompanied Cole as they loaded the dying man into the back of one of the Lince vehicles. They trundled off out of the gate, towards the one way to and from this outpost—through the forest.

The rest watched as it entered, Jack nodding in satisfaction. But only a few minutes later the sound of gunfire reached them. “What in the Sam Hill...?” said Jack, opened-mouthed, as he saw the Lince backing up again, skidding on the grass as the driver attempted a handbrake turn—which wasn’t a good idea in a vehicle that size. The sides of the green and black camouflaged brute were covered in dents, the glass of the windscreen and side windows splintered or smashed completely, and the thick wheels looked like they’d been clawed at by wild animals. Even from this distance, they could hear the screams and cries of panic as the Lince suddenly pitched over onto its side, parallel to the treeline.

One of the Italian troopers emerged from the back, firing off a machine gun into the forest. Then suddenly he was gone again, spirited away into the foliage before anyone could see what had happened. More of their party began to clamber out, but were meeting the same fate. One minute they were there, the next they were gone.

A couple managed to make it away from the Lince, running in the opposite direction. With them was Cole, easily recognisable by his tattoos. He had a handgun and was firing indiscriminately back into the trees. They began to sprint then, as if their lives depended on it.

“We have to help them!” Robert called out, signalling for Lagorio to come with him and directing him to the Thesis state car they’d ridden there in. The man hesitated, then saw the look in Robert’s eye and did as he was told, climbing in and gunning the engine as Robert climbed into the back with his bow and arrows. The car had no sunroof, so Robert ground the back window down and clambered out with his weapon—arrow pointing beyond the soldiers in case whatever was inside the forest should think of pursuing them. Lagorio pulled up alongside the men, who gladly clambered into the car. “What the hell’s going on?” asked Robert, as Cole climbed into the back. He didn’t get a reply.

Robert kept his weapon trained on the trees, but nothing emerged. The car did a u-turn, throwing up clumps of grass, then Lagorio sped up—heading towards the fort. Still nothing followed.

Once they’d got the trio of men back to the outpost, they sat them down and asked what exactly had attacked them. The Italian troopers were gabbling, speaking faster than Robert could keep up with even if it had been in English. But he did catch that word again: “Monstri!”

“Cole, help me out here. What did you see?”

The medic just shook his head. “It all happened pretty quickly, but... I don’t know, suddenly there were these... these things all over the vehicle. Clambering all over it, trying to get in.”

“Things? What kind of things?” Jack demanded, turning Cole’s chair round to face him.

“Feral, all teeth and hair and—they were quick, I can tell you that. I just got flashes of them. But I did see what they did to the wounded man from the outpost. Practically dragged him out through the window, like they had unfinished business with him.” Cole hung his head, and one of the Rangers gave him a mug of steaming black coffee, a jar of which they’d manage to salvage from the wrecked office. “And there were a lot of them. I mean a lot.” Cole looked up. “I think maybe those woods are full of the fuckers.”

Robert frowned. “So why didn’t they attack when we first arrived?”

“Maybe they’ve only just come back?” offered the Ranger who’d made the coffee, a man with pinched features Robert knew as Hurst.

“Maybe,” said Robert rubbing his chin. “But why not follow these men out and attack them as well?”

“Perhaps they like the cover of the forest,” Jack mused. “You of all people should be able to relate to that.”

Or perhaps they’ve been trained, thought Robert. Perhaps they’re following some sort of orders?

“Monstri, monstri,” one of the Italian men was shouting again.

Monsters? It was the most ridiculous thing Robert had ever heard. “Is that what you think as well?” he asked Cole. “That these things are... are monsters?”

Cole shrugged. “Hard to say without taking a closer look at one, and I’m not fucking going back in there to do that.”

“Then I guess there’s only one thing for it,” Robert said, turning.

Jack grabbed his arm. “I hope you’re not thinking what I think you are.”

“I’m going to get Cole here his closer look,” Robert informed him without missing a beat.

“You can’t be... Robbie, you saw what they did to the Lince!”

“My eyesight’s not what it once was, but I’m not blind yet, Jack.”

“Then—”

Robert placed a hand on his shoulder. “Stay here, and shore up the defences. We need to know we can keep them out if they try again.”

“They didn’t have much luck with that the first time around,” his friend said, knowing it was no use arguing with Robert once his mind was made up.

Robert clapped Jack’s shoulder. “I’ve done my fair share of hunting in my time,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll be fine.” Although he was far from convinced.

 

 

THERE’D BEEN NO way of hiding his approach, so Robert hadn’t even bothered trying. No sneaking in, no ninja-style tactics. If they hadn’t followed the men up to the outpost, then chances were they wouldn’t go for him. Yet.

So he just walked up to the edge of the forest. Robert stood there for a moment or two, glancing sideways at what remained of the Italian personnel carrier. They’d certainly done a number on it, and this close it looked even worse. Robert pulled up his hood, stared at the treeline from under it, then took an arrow from his quiver and slid it into position.

“Now you see me,” he muttered under his breath, briefly looking down at his sword on one hip, the bag that linked him to his own forest back home hanging from the other. Then he prayed that this place would embrace him in the same way Sherwood had done.

And he was gone, away into the trees.

He kept his breathing low, his muscles flexed, and his tread light. Here, amongst the foliage, he blended in, became invisible. Robert pressed himself up against a trunk, peering around it. He could sense the presence of those things before he even saw what came next. Cole had been right, there were a lot of them. And they seemed to be everywhere.

Then they opened their eyes. Red in the darkness, they almost glowed. Dozens of pairs of crimson orbs, all searching for him. For this intruder who had so casually strolled up and knocked on their door, then snuck inside like a thief. For a moment it made him think: about all those times he’d said to Stevie that those monsters of his weren’t real, then looked under the bed, in the closet, to reassure the kid.

Had he just been reassuring himself all along?

There was no such luxury this time, not now he was being confronted with those eyes. Robert couldn’t deny the existence of these monsters. He heard the faintest of movement from above, and looked up. One was clambering through the branches. It was a move he’d employed many times in the past, keeping above ground so you could see your enemies. Robert tilted his bow, following the outline of the figure. What was it, some kind of ape? A trained ape? Like Poe’s orang-utan, or something out of an old sci-fi movie he’d seen as a child?

But if they were monkeys, then where was the organ-grinder? Robert wondered. It stopped directly above him, and he leaned back into a crouch so he could shoot.

Crack!

Robert cursed the bones in his knee, letting out a “Shit!” as the thing hurled itself at him, plummeting through the branches. There was neither the time nor distance to shoot, so Robert improvised. He fell backwards onto the ground, lifted both his legs—bringing them back and bracing for the thing to land on the soles of his boots. As it did, Robert flipped it over his head and straightened his legs.

His position had been given away. He scrambled to his feet, aware that there were figures behind him as well as in front. Robert turned and loosed three arrows in quick succession, which he knew hit their mark. Nevertheless, the figures didn’t go down. They just kept on coming.

“What now, old man?” he asked himself, as they surrounded him.

He let off a couple more arrows, in various directions, but again they didn’t slow the creatures down one bit. Hell, if machine-guns and pistols hadn’t done anything, what had made him think his arrows—which he’d relied on all these years—would be any different? If he’d been in Sherwood, then maybe. But the pouch at his belt just wasn’t going to cut it this time, he feared.

Almost on him, coming from all sides. This was it, he was never going to see Mary or April again—

He felt hands on him, tugging him backwards.

“Come on! Move!” It was an American accent, his old friend’s. Jack was pulling him out of harm’s way, having broken through the ring, smacking the creatures left and right with his staff. You couldn’t argue with brute force and leverage. By his side was Azhar, cutting a swathe with his razor-sharp scimitars. “Didn’t think we’d let you have all the fun, did you?” shouted Jack.

Robert remembered his own blade now, shouldered his bow and pulled the broadsword free of its sheath. He flung it left and right, punching another one of the creatures in the side of the head. “Look out!” warned Jack, and Robert spun—just in time to impale one of them on the end of his sword. It slid up the length of it, still squirming. Christ these things are strong, thought Robert. Then it shuddered, and finally fell still. So, they canbe killed!

He was about to kick it off, when Jack stopped him. “Cole never said his sample had to be alive, did he?”

He hadn’t.

“Let’s leave this party, shall we?” Robert suggested, withdrawing with his friends on either side of him, dragging the body—their prize—along with them. Once they were a few feet away from the things, they turned and ran as quickly as they could—hoping that their pursuers wouldn’t follow them out. If they were wrong, though, they were screwed. Jack took the body and hefted it across his broad shoulders with a grunt, after handing Robert his staff.

They’d guessed rightly; the creatures were now pulling back. Robert risked one last glance backwards into the forest and thought he saw something else apart from the ‘monstri.’ A robed figure, wearing a hood.

“The organ-grinder,” he spat through clenched teeth.

“What are you jabbering about?” asked Jack, as they spilled out into the light again, tumbling forward and ensuring they were out of reach.

Jack dumped the hairy body in the back of the waiting truck they’d used to reach the forest, then climbed in himself. Azhar was next, followed by Robert. “Drive!” Robert called to Ranger Poynter in the front.

Jack repeated his question as they set off: “What do you mean?”

“I mean I reckon I know who’s behind the attack on this outpost,” he told his friend gravely. “And if I’m right, we’re all in a lot more trouble than I thought.”

 

 

APART FROM THE Rangers and NRI keeping watch at the walls—the remaining Lince had been used to barricade the broken gates—the rest of them gathered around the table the dead beast had been laid out on. In total, there were something like a dozen of their number left, not including Robert, Jack and Azhar.

Stretched out, the thing looked less ape-like and more human. Still naked but covered in hair, it more closely resembled some kind of deformed caveman than anything else. Muscles bulged abnormally as well, like they’d been inflated with a bicycle pump.

“If you’re saying that the Morningstars might be behind this, then yeah, we’re definitely in trouble,” Jack had said when Robert told him what he’d seen.

“Morningstars?” Lagorio had asked, voice rising. “We have heard of these people. They are in league with the Devil himself!”

“They’re just men,” Robert said. “We’ve fought them before... I’ve fought them before, one-on-one. Actually, one-on-several. They’re incredibly strong and are driven—most fanatics are—but they’re still just men.”

“They have raised demons!” This came from one of the Italian soldiers who’d made it out with Cole.

Robert turned to the medic. “What do you think, doctor? Is that what they’ve done?”

Cole, who had been busy examining the corpse—lifting the hands to study the sharp, elongated nails, peeling back lips to reveal ragged teeth, peering at the bloodshot eyes—stood back and rubbed the top of his head again. “No, he’s human enough.”

There was an audible and collective exhalation of breath, including—Robert was surprised to find—his own. “So what—?” he asked.

“He’s been experimented upon. If I had access to a lab, I could draw some bloods and tell you exactly what this poor sod had been given. There were all kinds of Chembrews knocking around after the Cull, that did all kinds of things to you: gave you enhanced vision—if it didn’t send you blind—altered your perceptions. Some were developed by the military, like the Perf-Es or Meg-Grade PCP.”

“English, doc,” said Jack.

Cole sighed wearily. “There was a lot of stuff going on behind closed doors, gentlemen. You heard rumours but... When the shit hit the fan, people who shouldn’t have had access to it suddenly did. And that’s not including DIY drugs off the streets. Dealers are like cockroaches, not even an apocalypse can get rid of them.”

Robert was familiar with some of the crap that had been around after the Cull. While Bill was busy setting up his legal trading systems, there was a whole underground that relied on the fact that people wanted to forget their lives before, or at least make this one tolerable. They’d done their best to try and stamp it out, but there was only so much the Rangers could cope with.

“But this... I think we’re dealing with something else here. Maybe an extrapolation of some of those, a refinement? Some kind of animal DNA mixed in there? It’s hard to say without looking through a microscope, without being able to run the proper tests.”

Robert folded his arms. “The effect is clear enough, though. It’s made them wild, stronger even than the Morningstars. And they don’t appear to feel any pain.”

“But they’re under the control of those bastards?” Jack spat.

“That’d be my guess,” said Robert. “Or maybe they’re just in the process of training them?”

“You mean this is some kind of trial run or something?” Jack said. “And we’ve wandered slap bang into the middle of it.”

“The location’s definitely remote enough for something like that.” Robert pointed to those red eyes. “Is it possible that whatever drug concoction they were given could also enhance their sight, even give them night vision?”

“Like I said,” Cole answered with a nod, “even back then, some of the shit could do all kinds of things to you.”

Jack leaned against the wall, adjusting the baseball cap he wore, though somehow it always ended up in the same place on his head. “Would certainly explain why they’d stop at the treeline. If they’re sensitive to it, there’d be too much light out in that field for them.”

“At the moment,” Robert said. “But it’ll be night soon enough.”

“And our only way out is through that forest path,” Cole reminded them, though it hardly needed saying. “Fuck doing that again!”

Robert shook his head. “Doesn’t look like we’ve got any options left then. We batten down the hatches and wait for them to come to us, maybe pick them off as they do.”

“But you said...” Lagorio began. “It’s just that there are so many of them, signore. And they got in here already once.”

“That’s when these guys were caught with their pants down,” said Jack. “Probably overnight or early morning. We know they’re coming.”

Robert wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

Which was why he was so twitchy as they stood and watched that forest right now on the battlements, the sky growing increasingly dark.

“Why don’t they just make their goddamn move?” Jack had asked not long ago. Now here they were and how the big man must have wished he could take those words back.

Because that’s when they’d seen them again: the eyes, glowing at the treeline. More than ever before. Advancing now across the field. So many that Robert lost count.

The monsters. The human monsters that someone, somewhere had created, according to Cole. Here they were, and Robert knew.

Knew that nothing, absolutely nothing, would ever be the same again.