She ran up the stairs, calling, “Boss! George!”
She ran into their rooms, calling, searching. Her calls became desperate.
Jack caught up to her in their bedroom. “Dee, they’re not here. Boss must have fled into the bush with George.”
Dee slumped onto the bed and held her head in her hands. She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to control her growing anxiety. She felt the bed depress as Jack sat next to her.
“Shall we go?”
Dee sniffed and poked out her tongue. “God, I need a shower first. We reek.”
Jack looked at her, confused. “A shower, now? Shouldn’t we go look for the boys?”
“I want to go find them too, Jack, but I need to get some of this stench off me. We’ve been on the go for days, with little to no sleep. I just need this to centre myself.”
“But what if we’re too late. Wasting precious time on showers?”
“I’ll be quick. Jack, I need this. I know it’s weird. I want to find them as much as you.”
She could see Jack searching her face, looking for a reason to deny her. He wouldn’t come up with one. Dee knew she was right; they needed a breather. Showers had a bizarre way off washing away bad feelings as well as dirt.
“Okay Dee.”
Dee punched him on the arm, whacking him a couple of times. “Go use the downstairs shower, I bag this one. Ten minutes?”
“Okay, see you in ten.”
Dee watched him leave. Sighing, she started stripping off her sweat- and gore-soaked clothes. Just taking them off felt heavenly. She stepped under the warm water, washing away the sludge coating her hair and skin.
Dee met Jack down in the kitchen. He handed her a protein bar before tearing off the wrapping of his own. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Better?”
“So much. Let’s go find the boys.”
Jack nodded his head and shuffled into his pack. Dee held the door open for him. He was still searching around.
“What are you doing?”
“My machete. I can’t find it.”
“The rusty one?”
“Yeah.”
“Leave it. Let’s go.” She watched him look around one last time. “C’mon!”
“All right.”
Dee searched up the bank behind the house, looking at the bush. If she was Boss, where would she go? Did he flee in panic, or did he have a plan? There were a few broken branches directly to their left. She pointed. “It has to be them. C’mon.”
Jack pushed himself up the bank and held his hand out for her.
Dee took his hand and, using the extra momentum, pushed herself up the hill, following Jack as he bashed his way through the bush. Branches scratched at her face and tangled in her hair, but she didn’t care. She could see indicators that Boss and George had fled this way: scuffs in the soil here, a broken branch there.
Up and up they climbed. Dee grunted with each step, and the sweat trickled down her back. Only her desire to see the boys again fueled her exhausted body farther up the hill. After forty minutes of exertion, they broke out of the bush and stepped onto one of the tracks that circumnavigated the island. Dee glanced left and right, searching for more signs. She looked down at the path in front of her. Seeing footprints, Dee furrowed her brow. There was a different print, human-like. Variants, she realised. “Jack, look!”
Jack came over, and grunted to himself. “Yeah. And look.”
She glanced farther up the path. Pawprints! Max! Her heart soared, and a new batch of adrenalin surged through her veins. Dee looked out to sea. It shone back turquoise, sunlight dancing off the breaking waves. She looked back up the mountain. “Jack! What about those caves George found?”
He turned to look up the mountain too. “Yes! Good idea. It’s worth a try.”
Dee pushed past him and broke into a jog. She could hear Jack’s boots thudding on the ground as he caught up to her and fell in step beside her. Dee rounded a corner and saw the cave opening ahead. She ran up to it and ducked inside. Then she heard Jack laugh.
Turning back to him, she saw he was holding up his rusty red-handled machete. “Look! Good old Boss.”
Dee couldn’t help but smile. Good old Boss indeed. Smart kid, leaving them a huge clue as to his path. She reached into her bag, grabbed her torch, and clicked it on, illuminating the lava tube cave twisting away. She was just about to head into the cave when she caught a whiff of rotten fruit.
Jack stopped, clearly smelling it too. He raised his rifle and lowered his voice. “You smell that, right?”
Dee nodded her head. “We should radio Ben.”
“Let’s check out that lake first. Carefully.” Jack smiled, and led her into the darkness of the cave.
Sometime later, Dee stared across the crater lake to the small island on the far side, a lone pohutukawa tree standing sentry over it. She would have admired the scene if it wasn’t for her growing fear for the boys’ safety. A screech sounded out, moments before movement to her left flicked through her peripheral vision. Half a dozen Variants scampered down the crater walls, howling as they ran.
We should have radioed Ben.
Dee let out a frustrated exclamation and, bringing up her rifle, let loose with a barrage of hot leaded death. She quickly dropped two. Jack shot another one. Their bodies splashed into the lake. The other three dropped onto the sandy beach in front of them and charged in a sudden burst of speed. Dee squeezed off another burst, hitting one in the neck. Black gunk sprayed out. It stumbled and rolled before lying still. Jack hit the other one in the head with a quick burst from his AR.
The last Variant leapt off the ground, claws extended, howling as it flew through the air. Dee yelled a warning to Jack. He pivoted, bringing his rifle up in front of him, which saved him from the gnashing mouth of the Variant. It dug its claws into his legs instead, and Jack screamed in agony.
Dee dropped her rifle onto the sand and drew her Katana. All the pent-up anger she had about what the world had become and these man-made abominations coursed through her veins. Screaming, she ran forward and swung her blade like a skilled assassin. Bringing it up in an arc, she sliced the creature’s head off with a clean cut. It spun away and landed with a thump on the obsidian-laced beach, a snarl forever etched on its face.
She stared at the decapitated head. These creatures disgusted her. The thought of what they could have done to the boys pained her. She wanted to make a statement. Memories of the Variants tied up and decomposing on the trees flashed through her mind. Yes. A statement. Dee glanced around the lake and smiled.
She stalked over to the head and speared it with tip of her Katana. Then she walked over to an old fence post and slammed it down on top, spiking it.
There’s your statement!
Dee returned to Jack and helped him to his feet. “You okay, baby?”
Jack took a couple of small steps forward. “I can walk. Bloody Variants. Thank you.”
Dee nodded and looked out to the island. “I’m going to check the island. Wait here.”
“Okay, be careful. I’ll radio Ben. Let him know we found Variants.”
Dee swam the last few strokes to the island and pulled herself up, pricking herself on the sharp obsidian as she did so. There were a couple of Variant bodies, but no sign of the boys. Then a glint caught her eye. She knelt down on the ground, and found a makeshift prosthetic leg. She smiled. Boss! Clever boy.
Turning, she waved at Jack while holding up the leg. “Jack! Look!”
Jack waved back.
Dee jumped back into the lake, shivering as the cold water enveloped her.