Rescue: 100 Miles, page 1
part #1 of Rescue: 100 Miles Series
RESCUE : 100 MILES
Rescue: 100 Miles by Aline Riva
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
A Kindle Original 2021
Copyright © Aline Riva
Cover Design Copyright © Aline Riva
The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
All rights reserved. No part of this publication be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
RESCUE : 100 Miles
Chapter 1: Shattered
The walls of the settlement were high. Armed guards patrolled day and night. Those who had called this place home for the past six months were as safe as they could be – at least, safer than out there, beyond the walls of the small village that had been cut in half and sectioned off and made impenetrable by the living dead. Yesterday had seen a celebration with a bonfire and drinking after the team sent out to fetch supplies had all come back unharmed. They had shot plenty of rotting dead along the way. But no one was bitten, no one got torn apart. And when he was given the dog tag engraved with the word Commander, it was the highest honour the people who trusted him, who admired the way he ran this place and had overseen the building of the barriers, could have given.
This place was the closest to a real sense of normality that anyone could get after the world had fallen apart in a matter of months. What had started as an act of rebellion against animal experimentation had led to the destruction of life as the world knew it when spiders had been released from a research lab. No one would ever know where those spiders had been destined to go when they were infected, but their bite turned the living into the dead and they bred fast and spread far and wide. The infection crept around the globe, stopping only when gas was developed to kill the arachnids. By then it was too late. By then, the dead outnumbered the living and the world had gone to hell. But at least for the survivors at Peacehaven settlement, life was regaining a semblance of calm and safety and something akin to normality – as close to it as normal could be.
But it wasn't to last...
On a misty Autumn morning behind the barriers of their safe zone, those who lived behind the high walls were sleeping. The dawn had just started to break, the sky was grey and the streets hazy as fallen leaves twisted from branches on a breeze that had grown chilly. At the end of a narrow street was the house where the Commander lived, with his wife and ten year old daughter. It was an old house, there were far better places in that part of the village that had been sectioned off behind the protective fencing, but they were happy to call it home. The carpet in the hallway was worn, the curtains at the windows old and faded, but upstairs in that silent house on that hazy cold morning, as the wind blew outside and leaves fell, in the smaller bedroom, Alice slept soundly, her room glowing with the warmth of a night light to chase away bad dreams.
Across the hall, behind the closed door of the main bedroom, Commander Porter and his wife slept soundly, she was on her side, he was turned to her with his arm draped around her. It was a morning of perfect peace. A slight breeze slipped in through a window that softly rattled, shifting newspaper cuttings pinned to the wall. These headlines had ceased abruptly after the gas was deployed to kill the spiders, the gas that had not felled the undead, and told a brief story of a world plunged into doomsday:
Infected Spiders Cause Zombie Plague, Humanity on its Knees, Hope at Last, Deployment of Gas to Kill Infected, and finally, Spider Plague Wiped Out but the Dead Still Walk, No Hope for Humanity, This is the End...
The articles pinned to the wall shifted again making the softest sound as cold air slipped in, as two people who had been together for more than fifteen years slept on, peaceful in this altered world because they had each other.
Then silence shattered for all who lived behind the safety of the high walls:
The raiding party had shot the guards using silencers. Their bodies had fallen with a thud to soft earth while the people slept on, and in crept a gang of heavily armed men dressed in black... The sound of doors being kicked in and bullets being sprayed cut through the air. There were cries of alarm, exchanges of gun fire, but they were outnumbered. The raiders had dragged people outside, yelling amid the gunfire, wanting to know where the Commander was, and where was the weapons stash? This place did have a healthy supply of guns and ammo, and most of it was away from base and safely hidden, but that was something few knew about. It was safer for those in charge to keep secrets worth dying for.
It was the day the settlement shattered.
Twelve hours later, Porter regained consciousness. Information was in broken pieces from broken people, the wounded, those left behind as their voices young and old told stories of suffering.
“They took prisoners.”
“They took children.”
“They took my brother.”
“They killed my parents.”
“The raiders are led by a man named Sinclair. His people were asking for the location of the weapons stash...”
As Porter stood there, head throbbing from the blow of a rifle butt, the shattered few able to make their way over to the meeting place in the village square had gathered by a fire but its light lent no comfort, now it was just a hellish glow that cast harsh light against the wounded and those in despair.
“How do I find Sinclair?” Porter asked in a voice shaken by pain and loss.
A young woman whose clothing was bloody sported a black eye from the raid and she leant against her sister as she stood there, eyes red from weeping.
“They say he has a settlement like ours, but it's a hundred miles east of here past the city, it's a long drive through the countryside, all the way to the coast...I know it, the place was like a fortress!” she gave a sob, “We were running from those bastards before we found your people! And now they're back and they smashed everything! Then they took my little brother!”
“We've all lost someone,” Porter felt numb as those words came out, the shock was still sinking in. Waking screaming and shedding tears on realising they were gone had been exhausting, and maybe there were no more tears to be shed. Something was settling inside Porter's chest. It was not a sense of loss so overwhelming that nothing could be done. An inner fire was starting that cancelled out the cold and the pain and the heartache. They were still alive. There was still hope and if it took bloodshed and broken bones to bring them home, so be it.
I would crawl over broken glass to find my family again, I would go through hellfire. I would do anything... whatever it takes, I will save them...even if I lose my own life in the process... that thought ran through Porter's mind, burning bright as adrenaline began to flow.
For a moment, it was hard to focus. It was as if something unknown was taking over, but it was not weakness. Maybe it was madness. Perhaps this is what happened when human beings were pushed too far. There were no more tears to be shed, only a strength that welled up inside, oblivious to the dangers ahead. The worst had happened. Nothing mattered now but finding the two people Porter lived for, and saving them.
“I'm going to need petrol,” said Porter, “I won't take more than I need. But I have a hundred miles to go. My family is missing and I'm taking them back.”
On turning away, voices drifted over from those who objected.
“It's too far, the dead are everywhere!”
“You won't make it, this is suicide!”
“Please don't do this, no one can survive out there!”
And they all sounded weak and defeated.
Porter's ice blue gaze scanned the gathering as that gaze was briefly, partly covered by fair hair as the breeze picked up and in that moment thinking silently seemed a better option than speaking aloud:
The ache in my chest will not go away. But it's not killing me any more. My family are gone but they are not dead, I can't even think the worst. I have to hold on. I have hope. As long as I have hope, I can keep going. I must keep going, for them...Giving up is not an option and never will be.
“I'm asking this question only once. I don't have time to wait around! Who is coming with me?”
Porter was met with a sea of battered and tearful faces. People leaning against each other shook their heads or simply looked down at the ground. Maybe they were right. Maybe it was a suicide mission to go out there into territory infested with the living dead. Beyond these gates, even a mile was hazardous, but one hundred? Porter saw a flash come to mind, memories of the past. Their happy marriage. The birth of their daughter. Even the apocalypse couldn't come between that. Now was not a time to think about giving up.
Love has kept me going all these years. I remember all those mornings when I woke beside the one I love to look into those beautiful eyes and whisper good morning as I held in my arms the sweetest soul I have ever known, we share a love that will never end. And I held my daughter on the day she was born and felt a bond that would last forever. I am not giving up on my family! The rational world has died but the things that matter have not. As long as love lives on, anything is possible...
Porter was pulled out of those thoughts as the girl with the black eye spoke up.
“Take the petrol. Take ammo. We can't stop you.”
“I'll do that,” was all Porter said before turning away from the warmth and light of a fire that made bruises and cuts look deep, and headed back to the place called home, a place that was now painfully empty.
There was not much to do after swallowing painkillers for a throbbing head, then grabbing a brief half hour nap to try and stop blurred vision and the pain from the blow of the enemy that had sent the world spiralling to pitch. But that headache had to be gone. One hundred miles was a long way to drive. Porter stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom, eyes closed as it all played out again, seeing the events unfold as if out of body, a spectator looking on, because to relive it in any other way would have been too much to bear:
There they were, Commander Porter and his wife, sleeping, embracing together. The door was kicked in and they both woke, the Commander reaching for his weapon, but the armed men were on them, dragging her from the bed as she screamed and bit the hand of the assailant, who punched her in the head as through her pain she saw her husband struck twice with a weapon. She saw blood on his face. He turned his head. Men were yelling, demanding to know about the weapons stash. Then Alice was screaming as she was carried off over the shoulder of one of the raiders, arms outstretched as tears ran down her face. The Commander reached for the gun of the man who had struck him, but he was struck again, just as his wife was dealt another blow. It all went dark…
Porter cut off from the memory, opening eyes that stared back in the glass a vivid shade of blue, a contrast to the combat fatigues that felt a little too big. The ammo was heavy and the holstered gun and the knife now sheathed were all reminders that none of the weight carried would be gone until they were safe once more. The bruise was still painful and the cut was barely closing, the blood had stopped hours ago, but it would scar. But not as deep as the scar that cut bone deep at the thought of both of them, gone.
There was a creak on the stair and then the sound of quick, light footsteps. Porter didn't need to reach for the loaded gun placed on the bed.
“I had to come over and talk to you!”
As the short, pale woman with dark hair entered the room, Porter turned from the mirror. The visitor who had entered because she knew the door was unlocked was a family friend, her name was Elise, she helped to regulate food distribution and on weekends taught the children basic English and maths. Clearly by the look on her face, she was devastated at what had happened to damage their community – but was even more concerned to think someone was seriously considering leaving the safety of the high walls and the now patched up gate, to risk life and limb out there on the road for one hundred miles across land that now belonged to the dead.
“Don't do this!” Elise said urgently, “Please, listen to me. You have to listen to someone! I know your family is gone, but helping to build a community and shooting a few zombies with a basic hand gun is not enough to survive out there alone! We've lost enough people!” tears were forming in her green eyes, “Please don't do this!”
“I have to go,” Porter told her, “There's no other choice to be made.”
“They're probably dead already!”
Elise gave a gasp, shocked at the way those words had so sharply slipped out.
“Sorry! Maybe they're not dead... but you will never know because you won't make it alive through a hundred miles of those rotting creatures! I know you loved them, but please don't destroy yourself like this! It's suicide... and maybe this is your way out... Just, don't!”
Porter looked startled at her remark, and guessed maybe that was something that should have provoked anger, but it didn't because anger was for the enemy, not friends, no matter how wrong they were...
Porter placed a hand on her arm, meeting her gaze and responding with a soft reply that cancelled out any trace of anger or the possibility that what had just been said had caused offence.
“No, it's not like that! I love them and I want them back and I can't rest, I won't rest, until they are home. This is all I can do. As long as I can do something, as long as I have hope, this is the best I can do for them.”
She struggled for words, nodding slowly as she stepped back.
“Then do what you have to do. But please be careful!”Elise blinked away tears.
Porter turned away, lifting a picture from the wall. It was a photo of the three of them, before the old days had ended, when life was normal, just a family picture, him, her and Alice... Elise spoke again.
“Think about what life used to be like. Keep those memories, your marriage -”
“She's gone.”
Porter put on a blood stained dog tag engraved with the title Commander, “And so is my daughter. They're both gone! I have to find my family!”
Elise stifled a sob as Porter took the picture from the frame and then tucked it into a pocket.
“You're going to die!”
“My family will die if I don't do this!”
Elise blinked away more tears, nodding as she looked at Porter as if the two of them would never meet again.
“I hope you find them. I hope you come back, but I think you will die out there.”
Porter lifted the heavy gun from the bed.
“Or maybe I'll come back – with them.”
For a brief moment the two of them exchanged a glance, Elise looked back with sadness reflected in her gaze, then she shook her head and turned away, making for the stairs. Porter hung back, taking a last look around the bedroom that held so many memories. This whole house was full of memories, happier times when they had found this village and made plans to make it safe and start a community. No one had anticipated a threat from outsiders. This place was set in countryside, the nearest town was twenty miles away. They had drawn up plans for security patrols ever since arriving, and that was as far as they had taken it – two guards posted on each side of the wall, looking out, picking off the undead, but zombies did not show up in hordes, this was not a populated area. They had never imagined their biggest threat would be from a raiding party of humans, living folk of flesh and blood. Was there really any hope for what was left for humanity if the living couldn't work together as one? The enemy were the shambling, flesh eating dead, wasn't that line in the sand enough? It seemed crazy to think in a time of apocalyptic disaster, it was people who had done this to the settlement.
With thoughts of the world crumbling along with the last of humanity, Porter left the house, taking a final look back at the place they had called home since claiming this land as their own. But what use was a home without a family? Was it really a home any more until the three of them were back together? Those thoughts were revolving in a mind full of troubles as Porter reached the car, threw in gear and supplies and extra ammo, then placed the petrol cans in the boot. There was enough fuel for the return trip. The tank was full and the car was ready to go. Porter wasn't ready to go. Standing there looking around at the quiet street, knowing others lingered behind curtains watching, thinking a fool was off on a suicide mission, weighed heavy as a reminder that the odds were stacked high.
Will I ever see home again? But it's not home without them. It's just an empty shell where those I love used to be. I'm the only one who can put that right...
As those thoughts turned silently, Porter got into the car and started the engine, then drove away without looking back.
The high gates were in sight within minutes. Those still lingering outside stopped in their tracks, looking on as if to say a silent goodbye, a forever goodbye, knowing one of their own was about to venture out into what had become a wilderness where the dead ruled and humans were prey. The moment weighed heavy as the gates were opened up. Save for a shambling figure in the far distance that would be taken out by the snipers long before it reached the entrance, the way was clear. Porter was about to turn the window up when two hands slammed on the down turned glass.
“Wait for me!”
“You're coming with me? I was under the impression no one wants to take on what's out there!”
Porter had sounded so surprised. He stood there, tall and muscular, his dark hair combed back. This was Max. Brother in law. Family, that precious link to a life partner who was so far away it was painful to think about.
