In the center of the room, bones had been piled up into a throne. The Alpha they called the Trophy King sat on top. A small cage made from bones lay to one side. Inside it, a small figure was curled up.
The Trophy King was watching Boss, his yellow eyes glaring at him. He leant his head back and bellowed. The bellow shook the bones. Boss screamed, and desperately tried to wrench himself free. He had tried to remain strong for George, for Beth. He had tried to protect them from the beasts. But he had failed. Now the Alpha was to have his revenge. An avid gamer, Boss had spent hundreds of hours facing monsters; when the monsters became reality, though, he ran and hid. Dee had inspired him to fight and survive, to live on.
He looked around again as despair washed over him, pulling him into its dark embrace. Hundreds of skulls on spikes lined the walls. Skulls of all different sizes. The Trophy King bellowed again, rising from his throne. Variants poured into the chamber, surrounding him. He reached down and pulled the figure from the cage, then pointed at Boss and howled. The gathered Variants joined in. The howls grew in intensity, rattling his teeth and hurting his eardrums. Boss gasped as he recognised George’s red hair. Tears flowed freely as he contemplated their fate.
The Alpha lifted George up, grasping the boy around the neck with one of his huge claws. He picked up a shard of bone with his free claw and, with another look at the crucified Boss, stabbed George in the eye. George’s scream tore into Boss, shattering his soul.
“Leave him alone! Kill me! Just please, leave him alone,” Boss screamed at the Trophy King.
The Alpha shoved the still-screaming George back into the cage and, with an astounding jump, leapt in front of Boss. His sucker mouth pulled back, revealing rows and rows of sharp teeth. His rancid breath fumed out. With a snarl, the Alpha jabbed the shard of bone into Boss’s leg, twisting it. Boss screamed in pain and fought to free himself. He didn’t care if he died trying, but he just wanted to kill this monster from hell. He managed to lift his left hand off the bone, and feebly hit the Alpha on the shoulder. The Trophy King hissed at him and clenched his wrist in his claw, cutting into the skin. Then he slammed Boss’s hand back onto the bone nail. Boss screamed again, his voice growing hoarse. The Alpha bounded over to the crucified Beth. She was now awake, the horror evident on her face. Her gaze met Boss’s as tears streamed down her cheeks. The Trophy King turned to him again and bellowed. Turning back to Beth, he stabbed her in the right eye with the shard. Beth let out an agonised scream, squeezing her remaining eye shut as blood poured from her now-ruined one. Boss cried with her, trying to comfort her with his empathy.
A Variant leapt in front of Boss, and he felt crushing pain on the side of his head as his vision dimmed and faded to black.
TWENTY-FIVE
Maggie crept along the highway in the 4x4. The late afternoon sun was quickly descending to the horizon, casting long shadows on the road in front of her. She had left the main group a few hours back and now she followed the trail, looking for them. Radio chatter told her that she was close, and vehicles pushed to the side of the road indicated that she was on the right path. She could make out a green and white road sign up ahead, and as she drew closer, she read that it said Karapiro. She slowed the 4x4 to walking speed and crept along the road.
Maggie spotted a long driveway just after the turnoff. She pulled into it and made her way up the tree-lined drive. At the end, a large grey house sat amongst landscaped gardens. Once-manicured lawns were now overgrown and abandoned. Maggie recognised azaleas and rhododendrons flowering, and a few camellias lined the garage to her right. She maneuvered the 4x4 between the house and garage, tucking it out of sight. Moving her rifle to within easy reach, she scanned around the property, looking for any Variants or red suits. Seeing nothing, she wound down the window, sniffing the air. She couldn’t detect the rotten fruit smell of the Variants. Satisfied that she was alone, she carefully and silently exited the vehicle.
After a quick walk of the perimeter, Maggie tried the back door of the house. Thankfully it gave and she quickly entered, closing the door behind her. A quick search of the kitchen turned up nothing of use. Making herself comfortable on the sofa, Maggie rummaged through her small rucksack, searching for what little food she had. Chewing on the beef jerky, Maggie contemplated her next move. The red coveralls had proven their worth against the Variants, but she knew it would only take one human to spot her for a fraud and she would become dinner. She needed to wait for morning and do some recon. Maggie had considered sneaking into the collaborators’ camp and killing a few of them, but she wasn’t sure how the red suits operated at night. Were they just a day thing? Did they even leave guards out? Did the Variants roam the night, leaving the red suits to stay within their camp?
Maggie moved upstairs, searching out a room she could secure. In the master bedroom she found what she was looking for. A large walk-in wardrobe lay off to one side. She piled blankets and pillows inside it and pushed a chest of drawers across the doorway. It wasn’t perfect, but it was all she could do. Maggie lay down, snuggling into the warmth of the blankets. She strained her ears, listening for any sounds. She was greeted by silence. Checking her rifle was close by, Maggie let out a sigh and closed her eyes. The exhaustion of the last couple of days washed over her, dragging her down into a fitful sleep.
After a good night’s rest, Maggie had spent the morning sneaking around the small village, watching the routine of the collaborators. Satisfied she had it memorised, she now found herself crawling through the scrub lining the eastern side of the river so that she overlooked the buildings nestled at the bottom and top of the hydroelectric dam. This must be the dam the traitor had spoken of. Water gushed out of the spillway, thundering in the river. Limestone cliffs soared up from the river bed, creating a gorge.
She checked her watch: 11:15. She glanced up again. The sun was straining to peek through the overcast skies. The town of Karapiro was nestled on the eastern shore of a lake◦— of the same name, apparently. So far, she had counted twenty-seven men in red coveralls, many of whom were milling around with rifles. A few, wearing the same red coveralls, had walked out onto the concrete walls of the dam and stood there, looking out over the lake.
Some others, clearly guards, were posted at various doorways around the dam, their red coveralls standing out. She peered through her scope, sighting one after the other. She reached back and moved away the branch digging into her side, then rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants, drying them. She looked through her scope again. Like all new recruits, she had gone through rifle training, shooting at targets from different distances. She had surprised herself, accurately shooting targets at 300 yards from a prone position.
The scope on her stolen rifle told her the distance to the nearest guard was 82 metres. Maggie knew there was 0.9 metres to a yard, so was confident she could take care of the guards from this range.
Turning slightly, she could make out a metal ladder attached to the near side of the dam. It ran from top to bottom, with metal safety loops every few feet. Importantly, it was unguarded. Maggie checked her watch again: 11:25. The patrol she was waiting for would be coming soon. Maggie needed intel before she dared enter the buildings. She needed to know how many Variants there were, where the children were being held, and if there were any human guards on the inside.
She wriggled back from the clifftop and pushed her way backwards through the bush. Raising her rifle, she crept along the path, heel to toe, swiveling her head from side to side. She could smell the faint rotten fruit stench that accompanied the beasts but, so far, she hadn’t seen any in the village. She found the fallen tree stump she was looking out for and nestled behind it, waiting.