Without question or delay the frightened crowd began to hurriedly make its way across the cavernous chamber towards the police van, prison truck and motorhome.
Bernard Heath looked around for Phil Croft. He grabbed the unsteady medic’s arm and pulled him along. Whilst he could walk, his injuries still prevented him from getting anywhere with any real speed.
‘Get the kids,’ Michael yelled to Donna across the small, square room where the youngest members of the group tended to gather. She did as he said, ushering the few children towards the door. Emma, frightened and moving against the flow of the others, grabbed hold of his arm.
‘What’s going on?’ she began to ask. ‘What are they doing…?’
‘Get into the motorhome,’ he snapped anxiously. ‘I’ll be over there in a couple of minutes.’
‘But…’ she protested. Michael pushed her away, desperate to get her to safety quickly.
‘Don’t ask questions,’ he shouted after her, ‘just get yourself over there.’
‘Is that everyone?’ Cooper asked breathlessly as he returned to the hanger after checking the largest room was clear.
‘Think so,’ said Jack Baxter as he looked back across the immense cavern. He watched nervously as the rest of the survivors attempted to cram themselves into the back of the group’s three vehicles.
‘You two get yourselves over there and try and get that lot sorted out,’ Cooper ordered. Although he had never been formally recognised by the group as their leader, the authority and command in his voice was unquestionable.
Michael and Baxter turned and ran towards the others.
Cooper stood his ground and anxiously watched the soldiers. The roar of engines suddenly filled the base and an armoured personnel carrier took up position at the foot of the ramp which led up to the main entrance doors. Two smaller jeeps were driven out of the shadows and parked behind the first vehicle. He cautiously moved forward, his military mind keen to try and work out the tactics and intentions of what was about to happen.
‘Cooper,’ shouted Michael as the final few survivors jostled for space in the group’s battered transports, ‘come on!’
Cooper ignored him and instead moved closer still to the troops. He estimated there were somewhere between eighty and a hundred soldiers in the hanger and there was no doubt that this was a major operation. He knew that the officers (who, as far as he could tell, were still buried safely within the deeper confines of the base) would never risk sending such a large number of troops above ground unless they had absolutely no option but to do so.
He took a chance. He had nothing to lose.
‘Hey,’ he said, standing in shadow and reaching out and grabbing the arm of the nearest suited figure. The soldier nervously span around to face him. The protective mask and breathing apparatus partially obscured the trooper’s face allowing Cooper to see only his eyes. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Vents are blocked,’ he answered in a muffled but clearly young and anxious voice.
‘So what’s the plan?’
The soldier looked from side to side, not sure whether or not he should even be speaking to Cooper. He figured that the preparation of the troops and equipment closer to the front of the hanger was a sufficient distraction for him to risk saying a few more words.
‘They reckon we can get by for now with at least two of the vents clear, so we’re going out there to sort ‘em and to make sure they stay working.’
‘Are you staying out there?’ Cooper whispered. The soldier shook his head.
‘You’ve got to be fucking joking,’ he replied quickly.
‘No, that’s what the jeeps are for. The vents are low on the ground. Plan is to leave a jeep straddling each vent to block them off and stop those bloody things out there from clogging them up again.’
The soldiers began to move forward. The trooper next to Cooper pulled himself free from the survivor’s grip and moved up to retake his position in formation next to his colleagues. Still curious, Cooper jogged across the width of the hanger towards the others. Instead of getting into one of the vehicles with them, however, he instead clambered up onto the front of another huge military transport to try and get a better view of what was about to happen. Out of breath and red faced, Baxter appeared at his side.
‘What’s happening now?’ he asked, panting with effort and nerves as he pulled himself up level with the other man.
‘They’re going to try and clear a couple of vents,’
Cooper replied. ‘They’re planning to leave those jeeps parked on top of them to try and keep the bodies away.’
‘Got to get to the bloody vents first,’ Baxter mumbled.
‘Do they realise what it’s like out there?’
‘They will in a few minutes. Anyway, they don’t have any choice if they want to keep breathing. If there was another way I’m sure they’d have tried it by now. No matter what we think of them, they’re not stupid…’
The conversation ended quickly as the doors began to open. At first nothing seemed to happen. But then, slowly and steadily, a dull scraping noise became audible over the rumbling sound of the military machines which stood poised to drive out into the open. A few seconds later and the first chink of light appeared. A slender shaft of harsh grey-white brightness appeared between the two gradually separating halves of the door. As Cooper and Baxter watched the width of the band of light increased as the entrance was opened further.
‘Christ,’ muttered Baxter under his breath. Rooted to the spot with fear he desperately tried to contain his rapidly mounting panic. ‘Jesus Christ.’
As soon as the gap was wide enough bodies began to spill into the hanger. Forced forward like a thick and viscous liquid by the sheer weight of rotting flesh pushing hard against them from behind, the first corpses stumbled and lurched down the ramp towards the soldiers with surprising speed, many tripping and falling at their booted feet. The soldiers responded instinctively, pushing the bodies back and firing at them until they had managed to temporarily stem the flow of dead meat. From somewhere deep within the ranks a muffled order was given and a row of four soldiers armed with flame-throwers stepped out of the darkness. They pushed their way closer to the diseased crowd and unleashed their devastating weapons on the nearest creatures, sending controlled arcs of dripping, incandescent flame shooting out of the bunker door and up into the cold morning air. Tinder dry, the bodies caught by the fire were almost immediately incinerated.
Another order was given and the personnel carrier began to creep slowly forward, climbing steadily towards daylight and then emerging out into the open, pushing and probing deeper into the burning crowd and grinding charred flesh and bone into the ground beneath its heavy and powerful wheels. To the front and on either side the flame-thrower carrying soldiers took up protective positions and advanced cautiously, matching the massive vehicle’s laborious pace and continuing to destroy as many corpses as their flames would reach. Beyond the mass of burning bodies countless more continually pushed themselves closer and closer to the disturbance, ignorant to the danger and devastation and attracted by the noise, fire, smoke and sudden movements.
At the bunker entrance the two jeeps finally emerged into the mayhem, each one of them surrounded by more soldiers carrying flame-throwers and other, more conventional and clearly less effective weapons.
As the military convoy eased itself away from the front of the base uncomfortably slowly, the remaining troops formed a heavy protective line of defence across the open entrance. The cool air was filled with billowing clouds of thick, black smoke and the choking, suffocating smell of burnt meat. Suddenly unable to see what was happening from where he was watching, Cooper jumped down from his high viewpoint and moved closer to the troops.