Slayers (Jake Hawkins Book 1) (16 page)

*

The van roared over the asphalt.

“
So here
’
s where we are,
”
Wolfe said as Jake geared up.
“
It
’
s an abandoned warehouse, on the edge of the Dandenong Ranges. And it
’
s huge
–
almost the same size as an airline hangar. The building
’
s surrounded on all sides by big open fields. It
’
s been deserted for years. Sam was scouting it out. He came across what looked like more than twenty slayers inside.
”

“
I didn
’
t get a very good look,
”
Sam piped up,
“
but there
’
s a lot of them in there
–”

“
How many?
”
Jake interrupted, suddenly clammy.

“
Like I said, brother, I don
’
t know,
”
Sam said, refusing to make eye contact.
“
A lot.
”

“
We
’
re going to hit the place fast,
”
Felix said. He ran a hand over his bald scalp.
“
Snowdogs on full auto. Hopefully, we take them all by surprise and clear the whole lot out.
”

“
What about me?
”
Jake said. He felt like he had been thrown in the deep end, a deep end full of man-eating predators.
“
What do I do?
”

“
I
’
m giving you the option to sit this one out,
”
Wolfe said.

Jake took a deep breath before responding.
“
Don
’
t worry, I
’
m in.
”

“
You sure?
”

“
This is what I trained for.
”

“
If you
’
re going to go through with this, you need to commit.
”

“
Meaning?
”

“
You can
’
t say you
’
re in and then back out when we enter the warehouse.
”

“
That won
’
t happen. I
’
m not going to say I
’
m not scared. Because I feel like I
’
m about to pass out. But I can
’
t sit out. What if I do and something goes wrong? I can
’
t stay back and watch you guys get butchered.
”

“
Good man. We need you.
”
There was a glint of pride in Wolfe
’
s eyes.

“
Who
’
s providing covering fire?
”
Thorn said.

“
I
’
ll do it,
”
Link said.
“
I know that
’
s usually your job, Felix, but you need all the muscle you can get in there.
”

“
There
’
s a possibility Archfiend could be here,
”
Wolfe said.
“
He
’
s usually around when there
’
s a big cluster of slayers like this. We all need to be on full alert. If he catches wind of our presence, he
’
ll get out of there faster than we can blink. The warehouse borders the forest, and if he makes it to the trees we
’
ll never find him. I want to try and bring him down.
”

“
If
he
’
s there
…”
Jake said.

“
If he
’
s there,
”
Wolfe repeated.
“
It
’
s not likely, but it
’
s possible.
”

It was a daunting concept; a slayer so powerful that the entire team were scared of a confrontation. But despite Jake
’
s anxiety, he felt somewhat safe. There was a steely calm in the air. These men would go to hell and back to protect him. He was sure of it.

“
Felix, Crank,
”
Wolfe said.
“
You two are with me. We enter first and lay down inter-locking fields of fire. Jake, Sam, Thorn; you
’
re backup. Come in as soon as we
’
ve established a perimeter.
”

The van coasted to a stop. Wolfe threw the doors open and Jake leapt out into the biting cold wind. The tranquility quickly vanished, replaced by tension.

They were standing atop the crest of a sloping valley that descended down into an open grass plain, ending in a row of pine trees that Jake recognised as the border of the Dandenong Ranges. The warehouse Wolfe had spoken of was situated near the forest edge, a full five hundred metres away. It was a gargantuan heap of rusting, corrugated iron, shrouded in darkness, surrounded by undergrowth. No light came from the windows lining the upper walls. There was no visible movement from inside. It was almost midnight, but the full moon provided a pale grey wash over the whole valley. The treetops of the forest were rustling in the wind.

Jake gulped involuntarily. Suddenly Wolfe was there, clapping a hand onto his shoulder as he stared out across the landscape below. The gesture brought a little reassurance to his shaking limbs.

“
You know you don
’
t have to do this.
”

“
Yeah, I know,
”
Jake said.

“
Stick behind us, and you
’
ll be fine,
”
Wolfe said.
“
I would let you provide covering fire instead of Link, but frankly you
’
re not a good enough shot.
”

Jake smiled.

“
When we get in there,
”
Wolfe continued,
“
if it
’
s anything more than what we expected, I
’
ll give you the signal and you get out as fast as you can.
”

“
Doesn
’
t that make you nervous? Not knowing what you
’
re up against.
”

“
We
’
re trained for it,
”
was all Wolfe said, and he turned away.

They were ready. Link had set up shop atop the slope, assembling a fearsome-looking sniper rifle on a tripod. There was no silencer on the barrel.
‘
Covering fire
’
appeared to be nothing but a last resort, for precaution
’
s sake.

The peace and quiet that Jake was savouring came to a crashing stop as Wolfe said,
“
Everyone ready?
”

Crank, Thorn, Felix and Sam nodded in unison, guns up and ready to go.

Jake sloshed through the mud along with the rest of the team.

The landscape was deceptive. What looked like hard-packed earth covered with overgrown grass had proved to be a thick layer of soft, wet dirt. It made for difficult travel. It took them ten minutes to reach the warehouse. It felt like a year. Every step closer seemed to increase the tension in Jake
’
s mind. But they silently crept up on the entrance without a peep of interest from anything inside.

The front wall dwarfed them, towering up into the sky. It was a huge industrial building, long abandoned. Graffiti covered every square inch of the metal, in the form of coarse slang and crude gang tags. Jake pressed his back up against the wall. He was gripping the Snowdog he had been given tight between his fingers.

Eyes wide, he glanced at Wolfe. The man was crouching by the huge double doors. They were securely locked. Felix had crept over to the other side, and Crank was waiting patiently behind Wolfe, ready to go at any moment.

Wordlessly, Wolfe extracted a grenade from his belt and tugged the pin from the top.

“
Here we go,
”
he mouthed.

He threw it through the broken window running across the top of the doors. Jake heard it skitter across the concrete floor inside. From within there came a faint, curious growl.

The grenade detonated.

Jake jolted in shock as the entire building shook on its foundations. All the windows that weren
’
t yet broken exploded simultaneously. Dust and residue that had built up in the cracks fountained out of the walls. The doors creaked and groaned, pushed outwards by the force of the blast and Wolfe stood up and slammed them back in the other direction with a front kick. They burst open.

Wolfe charged into the warehouse with Crank and Felix right behind him. Jake lost sight of the trio, still crouching against the wall.

From within, the unnatural whine of Snowdog bullets sounded for the first time. The guns were firing away at forty thousand rounds per minute. The bullets were discharging so fast that there was no recognisable chatter. It was simply a deafening, vibrating hum.

A symphony of gruesome howls and roars echoed out into the night. Jake
’
s heart skipped a beat. It sounded like there were dozens in there. He crouched in the mud for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it was probably only a few seconds.

Then the fear was gone, replaced by adrenaline as Thorn shouted
“
Move!
”
and he charged into the warehouse.

It was chaos. Dead slayers littered the concrete floor, some still twitching and writhing in pools of black blood. Jake felt sick, yet relieved. He tallied roughly twenty dead before his gaze shot elsewhere. Stray slayers were sprinting away, into a partition of walled-up offices on the left hand side. Wolfe, Crank and Felix were all down on one knee, firing after them. At least ten made it into cover before they could finish them off.

Jake ran flat out towards the offices, legs pumping like pistons. He raised his Snowdog and aimed it at the door.

“
Jake,
no
,
”
Wolfe roared.

“
We have to finish them off before they regroup,
”
Jake yelled back.

“
They
’
re slayers!
”
Thorn yelled.
“
They don
’
t regroup! They
’
re mindless!
”

But by then Jake was through the door. He was in a narrow hallway, made up of almost ten doors that branched away into cramped office cubicles. There was a lone slayer at the end of the corridor.

It roared, baring a mouth full of bloody teeth.

He grimaced. How could he have been so stupid? He was alone now, and in danger. He was frustrated with himself, but above all else he was scared.

Jake levelled his Snowdog at exactly the same time that it pounced.

He tapped the trigger. A wave of bullets dotted across the slayer
’
s chest in mid-air. It slapped against the corridor floor like a rag doll and lay still.

He breathed a sigh of relief and began to turn
…

…
just in time to see five claws darting towards him.

He ducked. Without a second to spare. The slayer
’
s jab whisked over his head. One of its bony claws scraped across the top of his scalp. There was a fiery hot burst of pain and blood began to seep from the wound, but Jake barely had any time to notice, because by then he was rolling away. In his haste, he had let go of the Snowdog. It was lying next to the slayer that had attacked him, out of reach and utterly useless. He cursed.

They faced each other off across the corridor. Jake felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The slayer was staring straight at him. Its beady eyes didn
’
t falter; didn
’
t blink. Its muscles tensed, preparing for a pounce. Jake couldn
’
t see a way out. There were no doors or windows close by. He panicked.

The slayer pounced.

He was unarmed.

The haze of adrenaline subsided just long enough to make him realise that he had two spare pistols in his belt. He reached down and ripped one from its holster, just as the slayer slammed into him. The force knocked him over. His head whiplashed against the thin carpet. For a moment he saw stars. The slayer had been thrown off-balance by the impact and both of them were now sprawling across the ground.

Jake spun on his hands and knees and grabbed a handful of its tattered jacket. It roared in his face but he slammed its head into the wall, unnerved. It brought a claw up, but Jake stomped it back down again, now on his feet. He raised the pistol and fired a single shot into its face.

It was over.

The slayer was lying face down in a heap. Their fight had taken them to the very end of the hall. Jake felt confused. There was blood on his temple and a splitting headache had sprouted into life.

Slowly, he turned around to head back out into the warehouse.

He froze in terror.

There were at least eight slayers separating him from the corridor
’
s entrance. They must have heard the commotion and emerged from the offices. They watched him.

He had no escape.

“
Jake!
”
a voice roared, distant, muffled.
“
Get down!
”

He dropped. Just in time. A withering hail of Snowdog rounds flew above his head. The bullets churned up the wall behind, shredding it to sawdust. He pressed an arm over his face more out of instinct than anything else. By the time it was over, he had curled himself up into a ball, afraid of being hit by a stray bullet.

“
Clear,
”
a voice said.

Jake rose slowly, still shaking. He couldn
’
t believe he was alive.

Wolfe was standing motionless at the end of the hallway, Snowdog in hand. Blood lined the walls. The corridor stank. The bullet-ridden bodies of the slayers were flung across the floor. Jake tried not to look at them as he made his way back out into the warehouse.

“
You okay?
”
Wolfe asked.

Jake said nothing, simply lunged forward and held him tight. Wolfe
’
s hold was comforting.

“
Thank you,
”
was all Jake could manage.

“
It
’
s alright, buddy,
”
Wolfe said, clapping him on the back.
“
Just don
’
t do that again.
”

They separated.

Now that every last slayer was dead, the squad relaxed. Crank and Felix were moving amongst the stragglers, finishing them off with a quick bullet to the head. Sam was surveying the scene before him with awe plastered across his face. And Thorn, Thorn was striding straight towards Jake.

“
You nearly got yourself killed,
”
he said with undisguised anger.

“
I was just trying to help,
”
Jake said.
“
I don
’
t want to be useless.
”

“
I
’
d rather you be cautious than dead,
”
Wolfe said.
“
It was lucky we got to you in time.
”

“
You
’
re cut,
”
Thorn said.

Jake looked down. Three long, jagged gashes were torn out of his combat shirt, across his chest. Blood was already seeping into the fabric. The second slayer must have nicked him when it pounced.

He propped himself up on a table. Wolfe began bandaging the wound while the other four men set to work piling the bodies into one of the corners.

“
Surely someone will find one of these bodies eventually?
”
Jake asked.
“
How have slayers remained a secret so long?
”

Wolfe looked up quizzically.
“
No-one told you?
”

“
Told me what?
”

“
I can
’
t believe we didn
’
t address this earlier,
”
Wolfe said, shaking his head.
“
When a slayer dies, their heart stops circulating the virus through the bloodstream. It has nowhere to go. So roughly half an hour after death, the virus begins dissolving the body.
”

“
Bull.
”

Wolfe shook his head.

“
Why does that happen?
”
Jake said.

“
Do I look like a scientist? But it
’
s damn convenient. If we came back an hour from now, there
’
d be nothing left except for piles of dust.
”

Jake said nothing.

Sam strode up to them and said,
“
We ready to go, boys?
”

“
I think so,
”
Wolfe said.
“
No sign of Archfiend
…
?
”

“
Not this time,
”
Sam said.
“
We
’
ll get him, brother.
”

Sitting there on the table, surveying the warehouse, Jake realised something seemed off. It took a few seconds for it to click.

“
This place looked square from the outside,
”
he said to no-one in particular.

“
It is,
”
Felix responded from the other side of the warehouse.
“
Same distance length-ways and across.
”

“
It might just be me,
”
Jake said,
“
but it looks rectangular in here.
”

“
Huh?
”
Crank said. He stood up and looked around.

“
No kidding,
”
Wolfe said, staring intently at the walls.
“
You
’
re right.
”

Jake noticed it more now that he had drawn attention to it. The warehouse was wider than it was long on the inside. It was almost like a section was simply missing.

Thorn and Wolfe crossed over to the far wall. Wolfe began to thump sections of the concrete with his fist. Once, twice, three times. Then he froze.

“
Thorn,
”
he said, and motioned to a spot in the wall at roughly chest height.

The instructions were clear. Thorn took a step forwards and kicked out with two hundred kilograms of force, transferring all his power into the wall, which in turn gave way, sending a section of the concrete falling back into empty air. What remained was a perfectly square hole in the wall, already pre-constructed. The concrete Thorn had kicked out had just been sitting there, nothing more than a giant plug. Clouds of dust swirled back into the pitch blackness.

“
Well, I
’
ll be damned,
”
Thorn said.