 
Chatham Islands War

## Homeschool Writing Cooperative Novel

Edited by Beaulah Pragg
Smashwords Edition (2018)

Copyright © respective authors (Kieran Gullidge, Joshua James, Charlotte James, Joshua Gorman, Grace Stapleton, Matthew Palmer, Phoebe Kerr, Oliver Kerr) 2015

Front cover images include:

Soldier Silhouetted in Afghanistan © Crown Copyright 2013  
Photographer: Cpl Si Longworth RLC  
Image 45155488.jpg from www.defenceimages.mod.uk

Wild & Rugged The Chatham Islands  
Photographer: Newsbie Pix  
https://www.flickr.com/photos/newsbiepix/3970483614

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www.beaulahpragg.com
Table of Contents

Introduction

Briefing (Mike)

The Courage to Jump (Jane)

Plane Hit and Crash Landing (Bruce)

The Plane Crash (Swift)

Jay Bob's Tragic Death (Bob)

The Attack Begins (Mike)

Escorting the Engineer (Silver)

The Shock of Battle (John)

Sneaking off to Scout (Mike)

Medic in the Valley (George)

Escaping the Plane (Bruce)

Keeping to the Shadows (Swift)

Two Pilots, a Girl, a Dog...and a Chicken (Bruce)

Unexpected Meeting (Bob)

The End of the Road (Bruce)

Little Lies (Silver)

Abandoned (Tom)

The Colonel Scouts Ahead (Mike)

Arriving at the Village (Bruce)

Down on the Wharf (Swift)

An Unexpected Revelation (Silver)

Borris' Mum (Bruce)

Main Squad (John)

Out in the Fields (Mike)

Lizard Nest (Bob)

Gathering Forces (Mike)

Reconciliation (Tom)

Arriving in the Village (Jane)

Moving Out (Mike)

Another Option (Swift)

Stealing a Jet Ski (John)

Stealth Team (Swift)

The Life of a Soldier (Jane)

Dark Places (Bob)

Searching for Civilians (George)

The Price of Conscience (Jane)

Escape (George)

Lone Wolf (Mike)

The Sharp Shooter (Silver)

Rampage (John)

The Chase (Mike)

A Pilot's Chance (Bruce)

Plan B (Mike)

Carnage (John)

Precious Minutes (Swift)

Accidental Rescue (Silver)

Never Meant to be a Hero (Bob)

Epilogue (Bruce)

About the Editors

Other titles by Beaulah Pragg

#  Introduction

## Beaulah Pragg

I didn't realize, when we first embarked on this project, just how ambitious we were being. We spent the first lesson creating back stories for our characters and agreeing on the world they lived in. New Zealand, some time in the future, had been bombed by Australia (for unknown reasons), leading to war. We were mostly green recruits, barely out of training, on a special mission to stop Australia from ending the world (or at least our part of it). Each character was given a skill and a responsibility. We all tried to come up with a weakness and a way the character might overcome their weakness in the course of the story.

Then we got to work. The first few chapters were easy—everyone was in the same place and knew what was happening. We worked together on the plot, but as each person wrote their part of the story, there were lots of facts and details that didn't agree with what other people had said.

Bringing all of those pieces together has been the work of many months. I loved the characters we created and the unique writing styles of all our writers. I've done my best to keep the fun bits, the silliness, the over-the-top violence and all the important things that happened to each persons' character.

I have had to change some things to get all the pieces working together.

Thank you so much to everyone who took part in this project, to the young writers with their wit and imagination—I loved laughing with you, to the parents who supported us and helped make this thing a reality, and to the staff of the Peterborough Street Library who are generous with both their time and their space.

I hope you enjoy reading our story as much as we enjoyed creating it!

#  Briefing (Mike)

## Kieran Gullidge

Colonel Mike Patterson looked out of the of the window of the plane. He could see the Chatham Islands just up ahead. The biggest island, covered in forest with a T-shaped lagoon in the middle, was their target. The time was seventeen hundred hours. Right on schedule.

Mike looked back at his squad. They were a bunch of recruits that were hastily assembled by the New Zealand army to protect him and his engineer on a mission to neutralize the enemy once-and-for-all. Mike knew it was unlikely any of them would come back alive. He thought about what to say. He would give a quick briefing then he would jump out of the plane first.

Mike said, "We followed the Aussies all the way out here to the middle of nowhere to stop them from getting there filthy claws on New Zealand. Our orders are to stop them from building their bio-weapons. They've got a factory located in the middle of Te Whanga Lagoon." He paused and looked at each of their faces. Fifteen men, five women, two dogs, and one terrified engineer. Most of these novices hadn't seen real combat before. Mike grinned, showing his teeth. "When we meet them in combat, we'll reach out and rip their heads from their spines and toss 'em away laughing. Am I RIGHT?"

Some of them looked shocked, but every trooper yelled, "Sir, yes sir!"

"Damn right I am! Now check your weapons and prepare to jump."

Mike took stock of the weapons he carried. Six fragmentation grenades, a pair of M7 sub machine guns and a MA5B assault rifle. He nodded to himself, then he said, "Troopers, it's time to jump. You've trained for this. I know you're ready. Follow me."

The pilot opened the hatch and Mike jumped out.

#  The Courage to Jump (Jane)

## Grace Stapleton

The plane jolted to the side. Jane's entire body stiffened and a new surge of panic welled up inside her. This was it. The plane was going to crash and she, as well as all her comrades, would die. The thought barely finished forming when the plane straightened out, as it had every other time. Jane flopped back against the wall behind her, letting out a breath of relief. From take off she had been a nervous wreck. Every time they'd hit a patch of turbulence, the past hour or so, she'd managed to convince herself something disastrous had happened and as a result the plane would take a plunge into the ocean far below them. She knew the likelihood of a crash was one in eleven million and that she was being unreasonable, but whenever the plane so much as slightly dipped, reason went out the window and the fear took hold of her.

A stabbing pain in her hand caught Jane's attention. Unfurling her fists she saw four new crescent shaped indents, near indistinguishable from the countless other depressions branded on her palm from when she instinctively clenched her fists while reflecting on the many catastrophic scenarios that could happen. Her gaze wandered up to the window opposite her, the window she had been so carefully avoiding looking out of the entire trip. Beyond was a large stretch of grey. Seeing it now she felt sick. Her mouth filled with a horrible metallic taste. The mission felt real for the first time. Oh God. She, Jane Thompson, was going to jump out of a plane and then hope, HOPE, that this parachute wasn't faulty and she would land safely on the beach ten thousand feet below. If it didn't work well... it would be too late to do anything when she was plummeting to her death.

Caught up in her pessimistic thoughts, Jane didn't notice when Colonel Patterson stood up began what seemed to be a recap or pep talk of sorts.

"Our orders are to stop them from building their bio-weapons. They've got a factory located in the middle of Te Whanga Lagoon," he said. "When we meet them in combat, we'll reach out and rip their heads from their spines and toss em away laughing. Am I RIGHT?"

"Sir, yes sir!" barked the others. Jane tried to join in with them, but her voice had deserted her—most likely a side effect that came along with contemplating a long fall and a messy splat.

"Damn right I am," continued Mike, "Now check your weapons and prepare to jump."

If he said anything else, it was lost as the door opened and the roaring wind outside doused out all other noise. A second later he stepped out into the air, vanishing in an instant. The next person walked down the ramp.

"I am so not ready for this," Jane muttered, but she started checking her weapons and provisions anyway. There was no chance of backing out now. She'd skipped over the grenades when they were loading up (the idea of free falling with a couple of them didn't do any favours for her nerves). Instead, she'd picked a combat knife. It might not be very practical from a distance, but if stealth was needed it would be a great deal more useful than a gun. Her hand slid to the pistol on her hip. She had two assault rifles strapped to her back, but the pistol with it's long-nosed silencer was her favourite. She took a deep breath and fell into what she decided was a rather short line of people who would be jumping before her.

One by one, her colleagues made their descent down the ramp and stepped off without a moments hesitation. Jane could feel her face growing colder each time somebody disappeared over the edge, bringing her closer to her own doom. It wasn't long before only one person stood between her and the ramp.

It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay, it's going to be okay... she chanted inwardly, as if thinking it enough would give the words meaning. She was anything but okay. The person who had been in front of her was gone. There was nothing between her and the endless sky. Jane could hear the blood pounding behind her ears and the frantic beat of her heart mixed with the overpowering rush of wind.

It's going to be ok, it's going to be ok.

Without warning her legs buckled beneath her, as if twenty kilograms of extra weight had fallen on her. She threw her arms out, trying to steady herself, but to no avail. She collapsed on her knees. Her newfound view of the floor blurred as tears filled her eyes.

This is absolutely mental, she thought, her breath catching in her throat. She let out a small sob. She wanted nothing more than to stay here on the floor, free to cry, but that wasn't possible.

It's going to be ok. I am a soldier, she reminded herself. This was her duty! She knew what she was signing up for when she joined six months ago. She wasn't going to screw it up.

Hastily, Jane got to her feet. Very much afraid, but determined, she marched down the ramp and stepped out into the air before she could stop herself.

"AGHHHHHH!" The wind tore Jane's scream away before she could catch the sound. Any courageous thoughts she'd had fled the moment she left the plane, replaced with one thing: faaaaaaalliiiiiing!!!

Um, no, I'm flying, she corrected herself deliriously. At least it felt like flying. The island was definitely getting closer, but this was nothing like the dropping sensation she had been expecting—the feeling of riding on a roller coaster. The air underneath her was pushing up so intensely it took her a second to remember whether she was falling upwards or downwards.

Her stomach knotted. The island was coming closer with every passing second and she could make out faint details. It was the moment of truth. Jane yanked on the ripcord for her parachute. For a terrifying second, she didn't think it was going to work. Then she was jerked back as it opened. Her descent slowed dramatically, causing her ears to pop.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, she prayed silently. It was almost peaceful now that she wasn't falling at a hundred and eighty miles per hour with the wind piercing her ears... almost.

The idea of pancaking on the shore still lurked in her head. She need not have worried though, her landing was free of any mishaps. She shucked off her parachute and joined the others who had gathered where the beach meet the forest.

Colonel Patterson and First Lieutenant John Smith discussed different tactics for crossing the island. Jane stood with them but tuned out the conversation for the most part. Then the girl next to her, Private Evans, suddenly screamed. Jane stared at her in shock. They were on a stealth mission, what the heck was Evans playing at? Evans pointed shakily at the sky and Jane's gaze followed. The explosion happened before Jane could register what that thing rocketing towards the plane had been.

#  Plane Hit and Crash Landing (Bruce)

## Josh Gorman

I flew the plane over the beautiful green terrain, looking for a place to land. The sun was low on the horizon, making it hard to see. I heard a whistle and quivered. I knew what that whistle meant. I saw a blur on the radar—it was a rocket headed towards us.

I tried to dodge the missile, but I was too late. I shook with the impact as we were hit. The right wing engine exploded in flames. I heard a noise and then a horrible scream. The windscreen had shattered and my copilot, Borris, was bleeding and screaming in pain. We were spinning. I switched off the other engine and struggled to keep the plane up. It was no use. We were going to crash. The ground rushed toward us. I pulled on the air brakes as I saw a hut coming closer and closer. I could feel the air rushing through me. Flames were on the wing and seemed to be getting bigger. I pulled up at the last minute. We skidded about thirty meters on the ground before we hit something. I heard a thud and we stopped with a jolt. I had successfully landed with only a few dents and a flaming wing. Amazingly, we were all still alive, for now.

I turned to Borris and tried to calm him down. He was breathing heavily, holding his injured arm. I talked to him as I tore a strip from my shirt to use as a bandage for his arm. At least he wouldn't bleed to death, I hoped. His breathing seemed to slow down and I could tell he was relaxing. I thought about escaping through the window, but we were too high up and I didn't think Boris would make it that way, so dragged him out through the body of the plane. The cargo area was a mess. I saw a pile of green army boxes and swallowed. A pair of boots stuck out of the pile, attached to legs.

Glancing around, I noticed a huge cloth covered hummer hooked up to cargo bay winch. I was supposed to airdrop it to the troops once they cleared the enemy combatants from the village on the other side of the forest. Oh well, I thought. That's not going to happen now.

The cargo bay was filling with smoke. I helped Borris into the passenger's seat, then heard a moan.

The boxes shifted a little bit. I raced over and hauled them off the trapped soldier, coughing as I did. It was a girl. The name 'Swift' was embroidered on her uniform pocket. She had black hair, sticky with blood. I felt sick, seeing the bruises and cuts all over her. She was attached by a harness to a German Shepherd which had blood in its fur too. The dog lifted its head and whimpered, looking at me with big brown eyes.

"Sorry, girl," I whispered. "This might hurt."

I grabbed Swift's hunting knife and cut them both free of the harness. Swift was still wearing her pack. It was heavy, but I didn't have time to take it off her. I picked her up, bag and all, and carried her to the hummer. I set her down as gently as I could in the back. The dog didn't need to be told what to do. She scrambled up and lay down beside her mistress.

I unhooked the hummer from the winch and grabbed the keys from the smashed lock box by the cockpit, then I ran back to the hummer and slammed them into the ignition.

"Please start," I whispered. The hummer roared to life. "Thank you!"

I reversed out of the cargo bay... and got as far away as I could. I saw in the mirror that the flames were spreading. We made it to the treeline before the whole thing exploded. I jumped in my seat and looked at Bruce. His face was pale.

"Good thing we got out when we did," I said.

He nodded.

#  The Plane Crash (Swift)

## Phoebe Kerr

It was nearly time to jump. The plane shook as the ramp went down. I watched my godfather, Huckleberry, talking to a tall sandy-haired soldier named Bob. I moved closer to them.

"Huckleberry," I said. "Come on. We need to attach Fang to you before you jump." Fang is my Doberman.

"Mmph hmm," Huckleberry said, his voice muffled by his black bushy beard. Having grown up around him, I knew he meant, "I'll be right there."

Courtney, my German Shepherd, whined. I turned back to what I'd been doing. We'd practised this heaps of times, but she still hated it.

"Stay still, Courtney," I said. The reason we had to attach the dogs to Huckleberry and me was because we had to jump out the plane. I guess I could blame Courtney for being scared.

I finish attaching Courtney to my harness. Huckleberry had already done the same with Fang. Everyone but me and Huckleberry had jumped out the plane. I hooked onto the black rope that you used to walk to the ramp so you wouldn't fall out before you were ready to jump. I walked to the edge, Huckleberry right behind me.

"Mmo mmphy mid?" he murmured. You ready kid?

I nodded once. I hated it when he called me that. My parents were dead. I was here to make sure those Aussie Scum paid the price for what they'd done. I wasn't a kid any more. None of us were.

Huckleberry patted my shoulder. I stared out the open hatch. I reached up to unclip myself from the guide rope when something hit the plane with a loud bang. I screamed. Part of the ramp tore off. Huckleberry and I looked at each other in horror, then we were thrown off our feet as the plane twisted and turned. We clung to our guide ropes. There was an ugly sound as whole ramp tore off. We were pulled towards the big hole. Black smoke was coming from the plane somewhere. It seemed forever before the plane hit the ground with a loud crunch. The guide rope finally snapped and I was thrown through the air with Courtney pressed against my chest. I hit a pile of boxes and everything went black.

When I awoke, I was in the back of a hummer. My head hurt. Courtney was next to me, her cool nose pressed against my cheek.

"Hey, girl," I said. She licked my face. I sat up and looked around. I had a nasty headache and my vision was blurry, but it slowly cleared. The pilot and copilot were in the front of the hummer. I couldn't see my godfather anywhere.

"Where is Huckleberry," I said. "And Fang? He's my Doberman. Did you see another dog?"

"You're awake?" Bruce asked.

"Apparently," Boris agreed.

"Did you see anyone else?" I repeated through my teeth.

Bruce glanced over his shoulder to see me glaring at him. "Sorry, I only saw you and that dog in the cargo bay. The plane blew up, so I hope Huckleberry wasn't in there."

I slumped back against the side of the hummer and swallowed. There was no way he could have survived, I thought. That was it. Two more people I cared about. . . gone.

"Where are we going now?" I asked a while later.

"We have to continue the mission." said Bruce. "If I've set the GPS right, were headed to the village."

#  Jay Bob's Tragic Death (Bob)

## Oliver Kerr

Bob landed heavily in the shallows of the beach. He could see the others already running towards the officer who had taken cover at the tree line. Above him, something exploded and Bob saw the plane soar overhead with smoke billowing out of its engines. Then a cry rang out that silenced Bob's thoughts. He rushed across the sandy hill toward the source of the scream.

As Bob crested the hill, what he saw chilled him. Blood stained the sand and there, crippled in the middle of it, was Jay Bob—Bobs best friend. Bob stumbled up to Jay Bob's corpse, the other man's face a scared expression. Lifeless as he was, Bob pressed the rags of Jay Bob's shirt against the bloody hole in Jay Bob's stomach. Sand exploded in front of Bob as the enemy began their explosive assault. Bob was dragged back into action by the officer. Bob heard only empty words. The only thing on his mind was Jay Bob's face.

Completely oblivious to the present, Bob spiralled into memories of Jay Bob and him—everything blurred together; the day they first met at kindergarten; the day the bomb fell; hearing the crack in Jay Bob's voice as he said their families were dead; the day they enlisted in the army together.

An explosion blew Bob right out of his mind. He stumbled up, his instincts kicking in. Survival. Running to the tree line, Bob launched himself into cover. Salty tears stained his cheeks. Colonel Patterson called a regroup and Bob tried to focus.

"There's a valley ahead," the scout said, breathing heavily. "Looks like the enemy's camped out at the far end. Couldn't see much. Forest's too thick."

"Could be snipers," Lieutenant John Smith said, glancing at their commanding officer.

Colonel Patterson was a tall, heavy man with an impressive scowl and a scar across his right eye. His voice was low and gruff as he said, "We split up. Silver, Jade, go with our engineer along the western ridge. Take out any snipers you find and then meet us on the other side of the encampment. Jane, Bob, go with Alice along the eastern ridge. Take out any snipers, then go on to the plane crash and see what you can do to help. John, follow me. We'll take care of the frontal assault."

"How did they know we were coming, Sir?" Lieutenant Smith said.

The colonel shook his head. "That plane was old. Probably had a faulty cloaking field. We're lucky we made it this far..."

Bob wandered over to join his group. Jane was a short girl with blonde hair. A specialist in hand-to-hand combat, if he remembered correctly. Alice was taller and very thin. She was nice to everyone, except the training dummies. Those, she slaughtered mercilessly.

"Hello," he mumbled to the pair of them.

"Hi," Jane said, scanning the mountains with a frown. She was already planning their route.

"Remember to be quiet, Bob," said Alice, "we need to surprise whoever's up there."

"Enough of this chit-chat. Now, move out!" shouted Colonel Patterson.

#  The Attack Begins (Mike)

## Kieran Gullidge

Colonel Mike Patterson called a briefing near the entrance of the valley they would have to pass through to reach the other side of the mountains. He had been dreading this part of the journey. From the scout's report, he knew there were quite a few Aussies camped out along the valley.

"John, get over here," Mike said.

"What is it, Sir?" John asked.

"How would you proceed? Most of the valley is thick bush. Scouts report at least three Aussie camps down there". They talked about it for a good five minutes then decided that they should split up into three groups.

Mike looked over his remaining soldiers. Not as many as there should have been. The most important thing was to get the engineer safely to Te Whanga Lagoon. There would be plenty of enemies between then and now. He needed to conserve men.

Engineer first. Silver and Jade would protect him. Silver was an excellent sniper and Jade was fearless.

"Silver, Jade," he said. "Go with our engineer along the western ridge. Take out any snipers you find and then meet us on the other side of the encampment."

He eyed Bob and Jane next, worried about their readiness for real combat. Brave soldiers, but both shaken by what had just gone down. "Jane, Bob, go with Alice along the eastern ridge. Take out any snipers, then go on to the plane crash and see what you can do to help."

He turned to his second in command. "John, follow me. We'll take care of the frontal assault."

John looked grim. "How did they know we were coming, Sir?"

"That plane was old. Probably had a faulty cloaking field. We're lucky we made it this far..." Mike replied.

"What's the plan now, Sir?" John asked.

"You lead the rest through the main valley. I'll slip ahead and distract them for you."

"Sir, are you sure that's wise?"

"Other than you, I'm the only one here who has engaged the enemy before. If we want to get through this alive, we'll need to do the unexpected. You have your orders, Lieutenant."

"Yes Sir!" John barked.

Mike slipped away into the forest that covered the valley. In the days before he'd made officer, he'd served as a scout. Stealth was what he'd been trained to do. Now, as he moved silently through the undergrowth, he realized just how much he'd missed it.

The forest was damp and humid. Thick moss covered most of the tree trunks. Mike was near a stream when he suddenly froze, listening for the voices he'd heard just before. They came again. He grabbed a rock and crept closer.

Hiding behind a tree, Mike spotted two sentries. He threw the rock at a tree a few meters in front of him. The sentries fell silent, startled by the noise. They both walked toward the tree, their guns in hand. They walked right in front of Mike, but didn't notice him. Mike pulled out two combat knives and, while they stood staring out at the dense bush, he slit their throats from behind. They fell to the ground silently blood pouring from their necks. Mike wiped his knives on his shirt sleeves and kept moving.

Soon, Mike spied a clearing with a couple of huts. He moved closer, then suddenly heard a twig snap behind him. Mike swung around to see a man levelling M19 rifle at his chest. Mike didn't hesitate. He dodged right, closed the distance between them and wrenched the rifle from the soldier's hands before clipping the man on the side of the head. The poor kid didn't even have time to cry out. He crumpled to the ground and Mike brought the butt of his rifle down on the man's skull, killing him.

While Mike crouched, making sure the soldier wouldn't be getting up again, his radio buzzed. John's voice came over the speaker, saying, "Colonel, we're pinned down. We need immediate assistance."

"Roger that," Mike replied. He dragged the solders body into the bush, then sped off through the forest toward the sound of gun fire.

Mike arrived in the middle of the valley where there weren't many trees. He could see the main group under heavy fire, pinned behind some rocks. Just in front of Mike was an Aussie sniper crouched beside a huge trunk, lining up his shot. Mike pulled out his knife and stabbed the man in the back of the neck. Then he picked up the S2-AM sniper rifle and looked through the sight. On the Aussie side of the battle was a silver-haired man with a captains insignia sewn on the front of his green camouflage hat. Mike zoomed in on the captain's head and pulled the trigger. The head exploded into a cloud of blood and gore. The remaining Aussies stopped shooting at John's squadron, confused by who had managed to shoot their commander.

Mike ducked behind a tree, yelling, "Use your grenades!"

Eight fragmentation grenades came flying over the rocks and landed at the Aussie's feet. The grenades went off with a bang, spraying bits of steaming Australian over the valley.

#  Escorting the Engineer (Silver)

## Charlotte James

We stumble out of the plane, landing on the wet sand of the beach. I'm tying off my parachute when I hear a loud bang. My eyes flick upwards just in time to see the flaming plane crash somewhere beyond the valley.

"Ok people, listen up," Colonel Mike yells. "We split up. Silver, Jade, go with our engineer along the western ridge. Take out any snipers you find and then meet us on the other side of the encampment."

I don't listen to the rest. I've got my assignment. I don't care what the others are doing. I head over to make plans with Jade.

"Why'd we get lumped with the engineer?" Jade whispers, glancing over at Tom. The guy looks to young to be on this mission. He's got a chubby face and curly brown hair—looks a bit like my annoying, dead, brother.

"I know," I agree. "Keeping people alive is hard."

"Now, move out!" shouts Colonel Patterson.

Jade and I stomp off into the forest, leaving the engineer to keep up as best he can.

Half an hour later we're up the hill. We keep quiet, scanning the forest ahead for any signs of enemies. A loud crunch behind me nearly scares me out of my boots. I whirl around, my gun up and my finger on the trigger.

"Don't shoot," hisses Tom, his hands up.

I groan under my breath. "Idiot."

Jade rolls her eyes.

"Be more careful," I say, then I turn and lead us further along the ridge.

We're about half way across now, and making steady progress. It's getting darker, and colder. Soon, we spy a small clearing up ahead. I throw my fist up as a sign for Jade and the engineer to stop. We all crouch down behind some small shrubs.

"Stay here." I look at Tom and he nods.

Jade and I creep up and step out of the foliage just behind a small shed. We peer through the small window. There are two men in Aussie uniforms playing cards at a low table. Jade pulls out a silencer and screws it onto her pistol. "I'll take these guys," she says. "You check around the front."

I sneak along the side of the shed, my gun in hand. There's a well used trail heading downhill, but no sign of anyone else. I give Jade the all clear and hear two pops. The glass shatters and the men die soundlessly.

"Well, that was disappointing." Jade says.

"Yeah," I agree. I glance over to the bushes where Tom is still waiting.

"We should ditch him," Jade whispers.

"How will we explain that to the Colonel?"

She shrugs. "He got lost?"

"It's our responsibility to protect him," I remind her. "I can't stand the idiot, but I don't want a court martial."

"Then we dump him on someone else as soon as possible," she says.

"Agreed."

A loud bang echoes through the lower valley. We both run down the track to a clearing in the trees. A sniper is perched on a long flat rock. He's so caught up in shooting at our main squad that he doesn't notice us until it's too late. I shoot him in the back of the head, grab his rifle, then push him off the edge. It's a nice gun. These Aussies have better equipment than us, but they can't seem to hit anything with it. Just as well, or this mission would be over already.

Jade and I take up position on the rock, lining up our shots carefully and taking out as many enemies as we can.

#  The Shock of Battle (John)

## Joshua James

The dirt crunched beneath my feet; the birds sang; the wind gently blew the grass. It was all so peaceful. Looking back, it was stupid. We were outnumbered and it was such a shock.

One minute, we were walking up the valley, the next, their guns started. Bullets filled the air. One hit me in the arm. It really hurt. Then I sort of lost it.

It is all still a blur; a flash of red; a searing pain; the taste of dirt as I fell. Then came the rage—white hot rage. Later, they told me I had charged like a madman; that I lost my gun.

When I came back to my senses, I was surrounded by five corpses. I crouched behind a rock with a knife in my hand. I picked up one of the enemy's guns and joined the fray.

Ten minutes later, it was all over. Somehow, we had won.

#  Sneaking off to Scout (Mike)

## Kieran Gullidge

Mike ran over to his squad. The men he could see looked in fairly good shape, but some were missing and more than a few were injured. They'd have to do some mopping up before they could move on.

"Make camp here," Mike said to John in a low voice. "Protect our men while the medic tends to the wounded. I'll scout ahead."

"Yes, Sir," John said, a little shaky. Mike had seen him in action, not caring at all about his own wounds as he massacred the enemy. A good lieutenant. Mike pointed to the blood-soaked patch on John's arm. "Get that seen to, soldier."

"Yes, Sir." John saluted, winced, then walked off to talk to the medic.

Mike returned to the forest and headed north.

#  Medic in the Valley (George)

## Matthew Palmer

Now that the battle was over, a deathly silence had fallen in the dusty valley. In fact, without the telltale evidence of the occasional corpse and odd small plume of smoke rising slowly from the charred bushes, it was hard to believe that we had been struggling for survival in a living nightmare only a few minutes before. Unfortunately, the memories were still vivid in my mind.

I began by patching up the men nearby. The lieutenant had been shot, but the wound was clean. I pulled the bullet out, bandaged him up and then headed off in search of more wounded soldiers. As I walked, I wondered how the colonel was getting on. He had ventured into this valley alone and, after informing us that the lieutenant was in command, he had disappeared. We hadn't seen him since. I would have wondered more about that, but I suddenly came across a dead Australian. There was a large bullet hole in his head and he had clearly fallen from quite a height. I guessed he must have been up on the western cliff somewhere. Maybe this was Silver's handiwork. I grimaced, trying to push that to the back of my mind. I moved on.

I searched for another few minutes, discovering two more Australian corpses, before suddenly, a faint choking sound reached my ears. After carefully rounding a boulder, I discovered the source. A young soldier was rolling around on the ground clutching his throat. There was blood all over his hands and neck. He was one of ours.

I dropped to my knees next to him. His eyes were clouded with fear, as if he knew he didn't have long to live. Frankly, I was surprised he had survived for this long. I gently prized his hands away from his throat. He didn't even have the strength to resist. I tried to reassure him. His attempt to respond only resulted in coughing up more blood, which he was rapidly losing through the giant bullet hole in the side of his neck.

I'd never felt more helpless before in my life. I didn't have the proper equipment to save him. He started to cough violently, spurting out more blood and jerking his entire body up and down. Then suddenly, he stopped. His head rolled gently to one side, his eyes wide open in intense fear, but they did not focus. He was gone.

I wiped away the tears that were starting to form in my eyes. I was miserable and angry. I was furious that I had been completely unable to help him. I knew I should get up and search for other wounded soldiers, and I also knew that his death wasn't really my fault—a bullet through the windpipe is never a good thing.

Mournfully, I stood up. I looked down at my bloodied hands. They pretty much summed up my day. I had jumped out of a perfectly good plane, only to land on a beach and walk into an absolute deathtrap of a valley... and now I'd just had someone under my care die right before my eyes.

I began to walk and it wasn't long before I came across a wounded Australian. His right leg had been blown off, but he was in too much shock to scream or yell in pain. In fact, he was just lying face up on the ground, trembling all over. His detached right leg lay about a metre away from him. This was a new situation for me, I didn't know whether to shoot him or help him. I had no love for Australians, but I knew it wasn't this particular man's fault that there was a war on. Despite all this I had to make sure that all our men had been seen to first, so after giving him a dose of painkiller and hastily bandaging the bloody stump where his knee once was, I continued with my search.

Over the next hour, I discovered many more of our injured soldiers. I did eventually return to the one-legged Australian, however by that time he was dead. A pity, I thought, but it saved me having to decide what to do with him. Back at our camp, we faced a bigger problem. What were we going to do with our own wounded? We didn't have any stretchers to carry them to the village and we didn't have any vehicles either, so it looked like we were going to have to leave them here in the valley to await pick-up. No one was happy about this, but they would only slow us down if we took them. They knew their duty. Countless lives would be lost back home if we didn't manage to destroy the bio-weapons. So, after giving them all the food we could spare, we set off cautiously in the direction of the village.

#  Escaping the Plane (Bruce)

## Joshua Gorman

Boris looks at the GPS which is built into the hummer. It has a map of the Chatham Islands on it. We were supposed to keep the hummer in reserve, for if the stealth attack failed. We didn't have a plan for what to do if they knew we were coming. I hope some of our people will make it out of the valley alive, but there's not much chance. Once we reach the village, I'll look for a way to contact New Zealand and get new orders.

I glance at the GPS. It's got an LED screen so we can see it in the dark. We're still another couple of hours away. We need to get through this valley and then up a hill before we reach the main road. The path looks tricky, but with the GPS we shouldn't get too lost.

The ride is pretty bumpy, since there aren't many roads around here. I'm a bit worried that we're making too much noise. What if there are more soldiers around? I say so to Boris, but my crazy copilot just grins.

"I hope they find us." He's got a gun in his good hand. He points it out at the inky black forest and pretends to shoot.

"Where'd you find that?" I ask.

"Under the dashboard," he says.

I groan. "You're going to get us killed."

"How is having a gun a bad thing?" he asks.

"It is when there's only two of us," I reply.

"Three," Swift says from the back, "and Courtney, which makes four."

"Yeah, but except for me, we're all injured. If we aren't armed, maybe the Aussies will just take us prisoner, instead of shooting us on sight."

"Doubt it," Swift says. "If they had a problem with killing unarmed people, they wouldn't have bombed our families."

Neither of us have anything to say to that. I keep driving in silence.

About an hour later, I see a faded grey bridge up ahead. It's only about five metres long. I'm so surprised by this sign of civilization that I don't see the boulder in our path.

"Bruce, look out," Boris yells.

I yank on the steering wheel and skid sideways, only just missing it as I regain control.

"That was close," Boris mutters. "Maybe I should drive."

"Your arm..." I begin.

"It's fine. Just a gash. You're too tired, Bruce. Come on, give me a turn."

I'm considering saying okay when the GPS starts beeping. Boris pushes a button on the screen and it switches to radar mode.

"We've got something moving up ahead," he says, frowning. "Lots of something. There's gotta be like fifty dots on this thing. I think we're about to drive into an army."

I swallow, slowing down. Should we stop? Go the rest of the way on foot? I glance back to look at Swift. Her dog Courtney has her head up, sniffing the air. Then she starts panting in a happy kind-of dogs smile.

Swift pats Courtney's head, then smirks at me. "Can't be soldiers or she'd be growling."

Cautiously, I drive over the rise and down the dirt road into a grassy valley. Ahead, a sea of sheep blocks our way. Swift laughs. Courtney barks. Boris and I just start in amazement.

I stop the hummer and toot my horn furiously, but the sheep either stare at me, or ignore me and keep munching. Boris lifts his gun, his eyes twinkling.

"No," I say firmly. "You don't have enough bullets and all we'd get is dead sheep on the road. I'm not dragging them all out of the way."

"Leave it to us," Swift says.

I swivel to watch as she clambers down from the back of the hummer. It looks painful, but her mouth is a grim line. She whistles and Courtney hobbles down after her. Even wounded as they are, they make an impressive team. It takes about half an hour, but she gets the stupid creatures to move enough that I can inch our hummer forward through the pack. Once we make it to the other side, Swift and Courtney climb back in. They are both breathing heavily.

"Thanks," I say.

She nods.

"Are you sure I can't shoot one?" Boris asks. He's leaning out the window, pointing the gun back toward the mass of white.

"No!" Swift and I say at the same time.

"Idiot," Swift mutters.

"Save your bullets for when it counts," I say.

Boris looks disappointed, but settles back into his seat to watch the passing trees.

It's nearly dawn when Courtney starts growling.

"Stop the car," Swift says.

I pull off the road and kill the engines. According to the GPS, we're about three kilometres from the edge of the forest. Soon we'll be out in the open—an easy target. The radar shows some kind of activity up ahead.

"What do we do?" I ask.

"Wait here," Swift says. "Courtney and I will scout ahead."

"Are you sure?" I frown. "I mean, you got thrown into a pile of crates. I'm no doctor, but you've gotta have heaps of internal injuries, right?"

"We'll be fine," she says.

She stands up and is about to jump off the back when she turns around and says, "Before I go... you guys should both get some better guns."

She kicks open one of the boxes she'd been sitting on and pulls out two M6 sidearms. She hands one to me and one to Boris. He grins. "This is bigger than my last gun!"

"Don't shoot until you have to," she warns. "We're likely gonna be horribly outnumbered. If we don't do this right, we're dead."

And with that, Swift and her dog walked off into the thick pine forest, leaving me and Boris to wait.

#  Keeping to the Shadows (Swift)

## Phoebe Kerr

It felt good to be out of that car. The bumping and rattling of the last hour had nearly knocked my teeth out. Courtney padded along beside me as we crept north-west—the direction the radar had indicated.

As we walked, I wondered whether the Aussies had radar like ours. Surely, if they did, all this stealth would be totally useless. Then again, I vaguely remembered Huckleberry telling me how the ground-based radar we used was cutting edge. The kind of stuff they came up with at Canterbury Uni, before it got bombed. Maybe that's why the Aussies attacked. Maybe they thought we were selling dangerous tech to their enemies.

I shrugged the thought away and kept walking.

The enemy camp was at the mouth of the valley. I looked down on it from the hill. Courtney lay at by my left foot, growling softly. I could see a fence made of corrugated iron—patchy and covered in rust—and a few huts inside. If I had to guess, I'd say they had twenty soldiers inside. Another four or five patrolling the perimeter. We'd need some heavy equipment and the element of surprise if we wanted to come out of this alive.

On my way back to the hummer, I thought through the options. There were a couple of crates of weapons and ammunition in the back. Maybe grenades? Or a rocket launcher?

It never even occurred to me that we could have abandoned the hummer and skirted around their camp. I though of it much later, of course, but at the time, I wanted blood. The soldiers in that camp might not have been the ones who shot our plane down and killed Huckleberry, or the ones who bombed my family while I was out training the dogs, but they wore the same uniform. That was all that mattered.

#  Two Pilots, a Girl, a Dog...and a Chicken (Bruce)

## Joshua Gorman

Swift is back. I want to ask what she saw, but the look on her face warns me to keep my mouth shut. She finds a compound bow and a stack of explosive arrows. I watch her strap the quiver to her back, then she grabs a belt full of grenades from one of the crates and says, "You know how to use these?"

I recognize them. Fragmentation grenades. I've seen what they can do and it's not pretty. I grimly nod my head.

"Good," she says, handing me the belt. "You'll drive us up to their checkpoint. They'll think we're on their side, since we're approaching openly. When they get close enough to realize we're not, I'll open fire. You chuck as many of those into the camp as you can manage."

"What about me?" Boris asks.

"Here," she says, handing him a shoulder mounted rocket launcher with SPNKR painted on the side.

"Are you serious?" I stare at them both. "Isn't that thing from Halo?"

"The Colonel's a fan," she says, almost smiling. "He said he commissioned this thing directly from our advanced weapons unit, before they were destroyed. He's been looking forward to trying it out."

"Are you sure we should use it?" I ask. I'm imagining the Colonel ripping our heads off with his bare hands when he finds out we've messed with his equipment.

Swift shrugs. "We don't even know if he's still alive."

"Yeah!" Boris agrees a little too enthusiastically.

I'm still not sure, but it's two against one. "Won't they notice us driving up with a giant rocket launcher aimed at them."

"Boris will take up position on the hill overlooking the camp," Swift says. "He'll hear as soon as we start shooting. That will be his cue to fire."

My frown deepens. "What's to stop him hitting us?"

Swift pauses, looks at Boris, then back at me. "Good point. Okay, new plan. Let's start with the rockets, then go down and mop up the survivors?"

We all seem to agree on this as the best plan. Soon, we've hiked up to the hilltop, me hauling the crate full of ammunition while Boris carries the rocket launcher on his good shoulder. Swift tests the draw on her bow as we walk. She makes it look easy, but I've tried those things once before. They're not.

Once we're in position, I load a rocket into the launcher and cover my ears. Boris lines up the shot, with a few words of advice from Swift, and then fires. He's off, but not by much. An explosion near the front of the camp blows two men off their feet and brings heaps more out of their huts. The way they're stumbling around, I think they must have been asleep.

They're too confused at first to work out where the explosion came from. I load another rocket and Boris lets it fly. This time, it lands right where it's supposed to. Two huts explode in a shower of dust and splinters...and other things that make me feel sick.

I load our second to last rocket. When it hits, the survivors turn toward us. They've worked it out. There are more of them than I'd have liked. Eleven in total.

Swift gets to work, arrows flying. They explode on impact, sending men flying. I pull grenade after grenade, and a couple hit close enough to do some damage. Boris can't use his rocket launcher without our help, so he grabs his M6 and starts shooting. Soon, we're out of explosive ammunition. There's still five men on their feet, shooting uphill with the repetitive clatter of machine guns.

Bruce and I crouch behind the rise, hearing bullets ping and thud into tree branches above us.

"We're gonna die," I groan.

"Not yet," Swift says through her teeth. She's switched to her pistol and has her other hand on Courtney's collar, restraining the growling animal.

Just as the soldier reach the top of the hill, Swift lets go. Courtney flies at the closest soldier and knocks him to the ground, tearing out his throat. The other men turn to shoot at her, but two fall dead within seconds of each other, both shot in the head.

Confused, the remaining two hesitate, unsure whether to shoot at Swift or her dog. Almost as if I'm watching in slow motion, I see Swift raise her gun at the same time as the Aussie with the moustache. The other guy, short with a crooked nose, points his gun at Courtney as she bounds toward him. What can I do?

I stand up and yell, "Hey, over here!"

Both men turn toward me, spraying bullets. I dive out of the way. Swift shoots. Courtney barks. Then everything goes silent.

I sit up slowly, checking my body to see if I've been hit. Miraculously, I'm fine. Both soldiers are dead and Courtney's having a feast. My stomach turns and I close my eyes. I think I'm going to throw up.

"Courtney, heel," Swift commands. I'm surprised the dog obeys.

We pack up our stuff, loot the bodies for weapons and ammo, then head back to the hummer. When we reach the camp, it's a smoking ruin. Swift jumps out and looks around. I hear a couple of gun shots, spaced out, and know she'd not taking survivors.

Boris sniffs the air and says, "Is that KFC?"

He wanders off toward one of the smoking huts that's still mostly standing. I follow, my gun raised. I'm not taking any chances.

Suddenly, there's a squawk and a fat white missile comes flying toward me. I shoot and miss. The thing crashes into my face, a mess of fluff and feathers. It falls to the ground, then wobbles upright and starts pecking at my feet.

"Hey!" I yell.

Boris cracks up laughing.

I grab the chicken by the neck and haul it, screeching and flapping, over to the hummer where I throw it in one of the empty crates and shut the lid. If we don't find any other food, I figure that can be dinner.

Boris, meanwhile, goes into the hut and returns moments later with smoked chicken—a little charred in some places, but probably edible—and drops it in the back of the hummer. He checks out a few of the other huts and comes back with a couple of weapons, some ammo, canned food, blankets and a few books, all loaded up on a mattress.

"What the...?" I say as I watch him drag the thing behind him in the dust, provisions rattling around on top of it.

"Come on," he says. "Help me load this into the hummer."

I get to work, noticing that the bandage around his shoulder has got new patches of fresh red.

"We should change that," I say.

He glances down at his shoulder and shrugs. "I didn't even notice."

"Well you need to be more careful."

He doesn't say anything. The supplies are all loaded up and I've torn one of the sheets to make bandages by time Swift and Courtney get back.

"Ready to go?" she asks.

I nod.

"Make sure you reload your weapons," she says. "The road ahead looks clear, but I don't know how often these guys have to check in. Their commanders will know we've hit this camp soon enough. We need to get moving."

I notice she's wearing an enemy helmet now. She sees me looking and says, "I want to listen in on their radio chatter. Might give us an idea what they're doing."

She tells Courtney to climb up on the mattress and blanket pile. She doesn't ask where this stuff came from or why we grabbed it. I figure that means she's okay with it.

"I'll drive," she says.

"But..." I start to say.

"You're haven't slept since the crash."

It's true. I am really tired. I climb on back with Courtney. Boris hands me bits of cooked chicken as we go. I don't know how long it's been since I last ate, but I'm really hungry. Still, he eats twice as much. Even Swift takes some, though she doesn't eat much.

Even with all the bumps and jolts of the uneven road, I quickly fall asleep.

#  Unexpected Meeting (Bob)

## Oliver Kerr

"We're lost," Bob moans. "We should have joined up with the rest of the squad down in the valley."

"The Colonel gave us a direct order," Jane reminds him sternly. "We're going to reach that plane and see if any of our people or equipment survived."

"But how do we know we're not going in circles?"

"See how the sky is getting pink over that way?" Alice asks. "It's morning, and everyone knows the sun rises in the..."

"West?" Bob says.

Jane rolls her eyes.

"No..." Alice says. "It rises in the east."

"I knew that," Bob says gruffly. "I was just testing you."

"Ah." She nods, then smiles. "Well since we know that's east, and the plane crashed in the north-east, then if we keep the sunrise on our right, we'll be going in the right direction."

"Well that's fine," Bob says, "but the sun only started rising half an hour ago. Have we been going in circles all night?"

"Well, the Southern Cross..."

"Stop teasing him, Alice," Jane says, then looks at Bob. "If you paid more attention and spent less time moaning, you'd have noticed Alice using her compass? You did attend basic orienteering, right?"

Bob looks a bit uncomfortable. "Jay Bob did most of the map stuff. Magnets are... confusing. I prefer blowing stuff up."

"I guess..." Jane trails off. She raises her hand to halt them and they crouch behind a bush. A few hundred meters ahead, Bob can just make out an animal—a dog?

"Is that...?" Alice murmurs.

"Shh," Jane whispers.

The dogs sniffs the ground, wandering back and forth, limping a bit as it does.

"He's wearing a harness," Alice points out. "It's got to be."

She jumps up despite Jane's protest and yells, "Here boy! Come here, Fang. Is that you, buddy?"

The dog lifts his head, barks a couple of times, then bounds towards Alice, his tail wagging.

"Who's a good boy?" she asks. She rubs his head and he jumps up, paws on her shoulders. He's a big dog and Alice isn't exactly tall. She wobbles, trying to support his weight. "Aww, you're hurt. Poor baby."

He's got scratches on his face and shoulders and what looks like thorns sticking out from his fur.

"Down," Jane orders. "Get off her, you crazy mutt."

Fang licks Alice's face, then gets down and nudges Jane's hand.

"No, I'm not going to pat you," Jane grumbles.

He nudges her hand again, then whines and begins to walk back the way he came. He stops a few meters away and looks back.

"He wants us to follow him," Alice says.

"I can see that," Jane murmurs. "Where did he come from."

"Ah," Bob begins, then frowns. "Weren't the two with the dogs last in line? I didn't see them land on the beach. Fang must have survived the crash, right?"

Alice beams at him. "See, not so dumb after all! Come on, Jane. He'll lead us to the wreck."

The three of them chase after the injured dog. About twenty minutes later they reach the edge of the clearing where the plane crashed. There is a streak of churned up dirt and strewn metal, leading up to the burned out body of the plane.

Alice swallows and looks away. Jane's mouth is a grim line. Only Bob notices that Fang has turned and is trying to lead them off in a different direction.

"What is it, Fang?" he asks, following the dog. "What are you trying to show us."

A hundred meters away, unmoving in a very thorny bramble on the clearing's edge, is a large man in New Zealand uniform.

"Guys!" Bob yells. "Over here."

As he gets closer, he recognizes the bushy black beard and grunting pig-like snores. "Huckleberry!"

They surround the big man, dragging him out of the bramble and scratching their hands mercilessly in the process. Huckleberry wakes up blearily after a few sharp slaps from Jane.

"Wha...?" he mumbles. "Mph mapened?"

"What did he say?" Jane asks.

"He's asking what happened," Bob replies.

"We were kind of hoping you could tell us," Alice says. "We saw the plane go down and now it's gutted, like there was an explosion. Did anyone else survive?"

Huckleberry shrugs. He was probably unconscious for most of it.

"How did Fang get free?" Alice asks. "Wasn't he harnessed to you?"

Everyone looks at the connecting strap. It's been chewed through. Alice grins. "Good boy, Fang. Good boy."

"Can you walk?" Jane asks Huckleberry.

He grunts and tries to get to his feet, but one of his legs collapses under him and he lets out a cry of pain.

"Lie down," Alice says, hurrying to check his leg. She frowns. I don't think it's broken. Maybe a sprain? We should splint it anyway. "Bob, grab me some straight sticks. Cut them down if you have to. Jane, find me something Huckleberry can use as a crutch."

Bob and Jane hurry off while Alice stays beside Huckleberry, testing his ankle. His beard muffles a cry of pain.

When Bob and Jane return with their sticks, Huckleberry is sitting up on his elbows, staring at the plane wreck.

"Msmift?" he asks. Swift.

"I don't know," Bob says. "If she's alive, she won't be around here any more. Fang would have found her, right?"

Huckleberry nods grimly.

"Well then," Jane says once Alice has finished bracing Huckleberry's leg. "We'd better get going."

"Where?" Bob asks. "We've done what Colonel Patterson ordered. What are we meant to do now."

"Survive and wait for new orders," Jane says. "Our best chance of doing that is to reach the village."

"Won't the enemy be there?" Bob asks. "Going toward danger seems like a bad idea."

"It's where the rest of the squad will go," Alice reassures him. "We'll meet up with everyone there."

"If they make it that far," Bob says, not sounding hopeful.

#  The End of the Road (Bruce)

## Josh Gorman

I wake up suddenly. Something is wrong. Courtney isn't growling, but her ears are flat against her head. The hummer has stopped. I think I can hear voices. They sound angry.

"Swift?" I whisper, sitting up slowly. She's in the driver's seat, silently listening. Boris glances back at me, looking worried. He shakes his head when I open my mouth to speak.

We're off the road, hidden behind a row of trees. I stare, trying to see what we're hiding from. Men in uniform. Four, or maybe five. One of them is wearing a blue T-shirt under a camo shirt and cap.

Swift has her gun trained on the man in the blue. Boris has already loaded another rocket and decided to point it in the same direction. I lift my own gun and aim, swallowing down the hard feeling in my throat.

Suddenly, there's a shout from one of the men. "Over there!"

Blue T-shirt yells, "Fire" and a second later, Swift shoots him dead. Boris' rocket tears through leaves and explodes on the road, sending men flying. I squeeze the trigger of my own gun, trying to aim without lifting my head too far over the edge of the hummer. The soldiers still alive are peppering our car with bullets.

The fight takes about thirty seconds, but seems like a lifetime. When it's over, we're still alive, and they're not moving. I'm almost surprised.

Swift swings out of the driver's seat. She calls Courtney to her side and checks the bodies. They must all be dead, because she doesn't shoot anyone. She returns to the hummer and frowns.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Hummer's taken a beating," she says. "Load up with as much ammo as you can carry. We're walking."

"What's wrong?" Boris asks. We both get out so we can see what Swift's looking at. There are bullet holes all along the side of our armoured car. Both wheels on this side are flat.

"Don't we have spare tires?" Boris asks.

"We could drive on flat tires," Swift says, "but it's too noisy. That's how they found us this time. We need to be stealthy if we're going to make it to the village alive."

"But what about all the stuff we collected?" I ask. "What about the provisions."

"We take what we can carry," she insists.

Boris and I fight over what counts as 'essentials'. He wants to take the mattress, even though there's no way we can carry it through the bush, because he doesn't like the idea of sleeping on the ground. I want to take the chicken, even though she's noisy and still annoyed about being shoved in a crate, because feel a bit bad about how we blew up her hutch. Swift, meanwhile, yanks the GPS off the dashboard and shoves it in her trouser pocket.

We finally settle on what we're taking—the mattress gets left behind, but I take the chicken in my backpack, arguing that we might get hungry—and we set off.

#  Little Lies (Silver)

## Charlotte James

It's midnight. More than a day since landing on the beach, and we've only made it as far as the plane crash. All because of that idiot engineer. He gets out of breath and needs to stop and use his inhaler every half hour! Worse, he sits there for a good ten minutes messing with the broken radio in his helmet. He should just be grateful that thing stopped a bullet from spattering his brains all over the forest.

Now, standing on a hill overlooking the clearing and the wreckage while Tom stops for another breather, Jade leans over to me and whispers, "I say we run."

"He's annoying, bratty, and he'll get us killed," I say. "What exactly is so important about him anyway?"

"Yeah. I'm sure there's heaps of people who could do his job," Jade says.

I glance back at Tom. "If we abandon him, we'll get court-marshalled."

"Not if he died," Jade whispers. "It was an accident. A stray bullet, you know?"

I look at her in surprise. I knew she was cold, but this is more than even I'd be okay with. "No, I have a better idea." I smile, then turn and walk down to where Tom is sitting on a rotting log.

"We'll stop here for the night. You take shelter in the wreckage over there while Jade and I make sure there aren't any enemy soldiers nearby. If you hear fighting, stay hidden. Remember, your safety is more important than any of us."

Tom looks a little suspicious, but nods. "Okay."

As he hauls his pack back on and treks downhill toward the wreckage, I motion for Jade to follow me. We move stealthily through the trees. Once we're around the other side of the trees, I pull out my pistol, remove the silencer and start shooting away into the forest. Catching on, Jade does the same. I scream and Jade groans. Our guns fall silent and we run.

#  Abandoned (Tom)

## Beaulah Pragg

Did they really think I was that stupid? Their shots were too regular and all in the same direction, with no returning fire. I could almost hear them laughing at me.

I sighed and looked at the still-smoking burned-out hull of our plane. Had anyone survived? I couldn't see any bodies, but they might have been incinerated.

The smoke worried me. It smelt foul and had to be attracting attention. I would be stupid to stay here. I hefted my pack and started back into the forest, looking for somewhere safe to rest and check my map.

As I walked, I couldn't help thinking this whole mission had been a mess, right from the start. Then again, how could it be anything else? Our experienced military were almost all dead. We had the superior tech, but no one left who really knew how to use it. New Zealand was relying on green recruits under the leadership of one of her most decorated (and frankly insane) colonels, to prevent Australia from launching biological weapons that would kill pretty much anyone we had left. We didn't stand a chance.

Finally, I found a spot by a tiny creek. I sat down and rested my pack against my legs. I took a long draught of water from my canteen, then spread out my map. Where was I? I'd been carefully checking my compass all day, making marks on my map when the girls weren't looking. I'd figured they'd dump me eventually... well, figured Jade would. I was a bit sad that Silver had agreed.

This had to be it, I thought, my finger tapping the map—not far from the clearing where the plane crashed. And over there, I pointed to another spot, was where I needed to go next. The question was whether I go on alone, or wait for back-up. I had enough food and water for another day or two at the most. I couldn't afford to get lost. I decided to have another go at fixing the radio in my helmet.

#  The Colonel Scouts Ahead (Mike)

## Kieran Gullidge

Many hours earlier, while scouting ahead, Mike had reached the end of the valley and come across a track. It was wide and had big tire tread marks on it. He frowned, hearing a rumble in the distance. Three quad bikes came around the corner. He threw a fragmentation grenade at the first bike. It skittered under the bike and detonated. The explosion made the first bike flip over and crash into the second one.

Mike quickly ducked off the track, disappearing into the forest as the two men on the last bike returned fire. A few meters in, he climbed a tree. The Aussie soldiers hopped off their bike and began searching for him. They walked right in front of Mike's tree. Mike set his MA5B assault rifle on full automatic and squeezed the trigger. The 7.65 mm armor piercing rounds cut the first man in half and ripped apart the second man's chest. When he ran out of ammo, and the men were no longer moving, Mike shoved a fresh clip into his assault rifle and jumped out of the tree.

Mike walked over to the quad bike that had not suffered any damage. He started it and then radioed his lieutenant. "John," he said, "I've captured an enemy vehicle. I'll go ahead on my own. You're in charge of the squad now. See you in the village."

"Roger that, Sir," John said.

Mike revved up the quad bike and took off. The track he was on went all the way to the village, according to the bike's GPS. Mike drove up to a fork in the track. The left road would take him more directly to the village, but he wanted to see what had happened to their downed plane, which meant he had to go right.

The road sloped down into another valley. Mike saw to two huts ahead, either side of the road, and some kind of checkpoint. They had probably seen him too, but he was on an Aussie bike. He didn't slow down, but just threw a frag grenade into each hut as he sped past. They detonated, blowing the huts to pieces. The men inside had been literally blown to bits.

Mike kept going down the valley. He didn't meet any resistance. Instead, all he saw was corpses. Some of his troops must have already been this way.

Mike left the track a few hours later, angling toward the smoke still rising from the plane crash. If he could see it, the Aussies probably could too. He was close, and readying himself for a fight when he saw a figure in the distance. Mike unslung his assault rifle and stopped the bike. The man was sitting, bent over something. He didn't seem to have heard the bike.

Mike snuck into the bushes and crept up on the man. The soldier wore standard camouflage uniform. Was he Australian, or one of Mike's men? Mike couldn't be sure, so instead of blowing the man's head off, he tackled the soldier instead. Mike hit the man in the stomach with the butt of his rifle, then clipped him on the side of the head. The man fell to the ground with a groan.

Then Mike saw his face. It was Tom Forsythe, the engineer.

"What the hell are you doing here, Private?" Mike yelled. "I sent you with Silver to secure the left ridge of the valley."

"Yes, Sir," Tom slurred.

"Have you been drinking, Private?"

"No, Sir!" Tom tried to stand up. Mike extended a hand to help him to his feet. "I just got hit in the head, Sir. By you."

Mike scowled. "You shouldn't have let me sneak up on you."

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"Well, anyway, where are Silver and Jade? Why are you on your own?"

Tom frowned. He was thinking carefully about what to say next. "There was a...situation...at the plane crash. They told me to hide. I heard shooting. They never came back for me."

Mike scowled. "If they're not dead, they'll wish they were. If they've defied my direct orders, I'll have them charged for war crimes when we get back to New Zealand."

"Yes, Sir," Tom kept his eyes on the ground.

"Come on soldier," Mike said. "I captured an enemy quad bike. Hop on and I'll take you to the village."

#  Arriving at the Village (Bruce)

## Joshua Gorman

It's dark and we can faintly see the village. We creep slowly across the fields, searching for dangers as we go. Boris hears something grunting, or maybe snoring, in a ditch nearby. Courtney sniffs around and stops right above a man in ragged clothes, sleeping in the dirt.

"Should I shoot him?" Boris asks, sounding a bit too excited.

Swift shakes her head. "We're being quiet, remember? Who knows how many soldiers might be waiting for us up ahead."

I swallow, my hand drifting to my gun, just to make sure it's still there.

It seems like forever, but we finally arrive. The village roads have potholes everywhere and grass growing from the cracks. The houses look like they're falling apart. We head towards a park and find a wooden bench to sit on. From here we can see the bay and the wharf, with lots of rusty old boats still tied up and bobbing on the water. I watch the sky turning pink and marvel at the gorgeous moon.

Boris pulls some of the cooked chicken from his pack and shares it with me. When we're finished eating, I pull the alive chicken from out of my pack, thinking it probably needs some air. I tie a leash around its neck and it pecks my hand. Boris laughs. "I don't think it likes you."

"I'd hate me too, if I'd been stuck in a bag all day."

"Where's Swift?" Boris asks.

"Wandered off again," I say with a shrug.

"I wish we could have brought my rocket launcher," Boris complains. "We still had two rockets!"

"That thing was huge," I remind him. "You wouldn't have carried it more than a kilometer before giving up."

"Not fair," he says. "We could have taken turns. You have to admit it was useful."

I shrug. Wasn't up to me anyway. Swift said no and she's pretty scary, especially with that dog. "I'm going to take the chicken for a walk," I say at last.

"You should give it a name," Boris says.

"Cluck Cluck," I decide. I walk away before Boris can make fun of me.

By time I've 'walked' Cluck Cluck around the run-down weed-filled park and got back to the bench, Boris is asleep. "Zzzzzzzz."

Man, that Boris can snore. He's lucky no soldiers have found us here, I think. We need to get out of sight. I shake his shoulder. He wakes up, startled.

"I dreamed I was a hawk," he says. "I smelled a beautiful piece of KFC chicken. I flew onto a tall man's shoulder. I think he wore a yellow T-shirt. He was holding a piece beautifully cooked wicked wings. Then I heard a reload. All I saw was a titanium bullet right next to me. I jumped and landed on the bullet seconds before I smashed into a tree and the explosion killed me."

I blink, then stare at him, wondering if he's gone crazy. He shrugs, giving me a silly grin. "You hungry? I am, and we're out of chicken." He eyes Cluck Cluck.

"No way," I say quickly. "Leave Cluck Cluck alone."

Boris pokes his tongue out at me.

"Anyway," I say. "We should find somewhere safe to sleep. I don't know when Swift will be back—"

"—if she ever comes back at all," Boris points out.

"We'll worry about that later. Let's just find a place to hide out."

"We could go to my mum's house?" Boris suggests.

"What?" I stare at him, waiting for his to laugh at his own joke, but he's being completely serious. "Why didn't you mention this before?"

He shrugs. "Never came up."

#  Down on the Wharf (Swift)

## Phoebe Kerr

The boys would be safe enough, up in the park, as long as they didn't make too much noise. I wasn't going to bring them down into the main village until I was sure it was clear.

Courtney padded along beside me as I walked the empty streets. I was glad she was there, though I missed Fang... and Huckleberry. No time to think about that, though.

Most of the houses were made of brick. Some were wood. Most had broken doors and smashed windows. There were huge spray-painted 'x's on some. I saw one house with bodies on the front porch and stayed well away. Who knew what disease I could catch from going near them?

I ended up in the marina. The sky was getting lighter and birds circled up above. Courtney watched them, probably thinking about breakfast. I was about to turn around and head back to the little Four Square supermarket I'd seen on the main road when I heard a strange creaking sound. Courtney growled, then ran off barking toward a wooden shack on the wharf.

"Courtney, heel," I commanded, running after her. Obediently, she returned to my side. I slowed to a walk and pulled my gun. I'd had to leave the bow behind at the hummer. Carefully, I turned the brass knob and opened the door. It creaked.

Inside, in the gloom, I could just make out an old lady in a rocking chair. She was wearing a mouldy-yellow dress. She looked up at me and smiled. Half her teeth were missing. Man, that was creepy.

"So you've came back to finish the job, have you?" she croaked.

"What? No!" I said quickly, my hand on Courtney's collar. "I'm not one of them. I'm from New Zealand. We're here to help."

"Hah." The woman wheezed. "How do I know that?"

"Surely I would have killed you by now, if I'd been meaning to."

"Perhaps," she said. "Or perhaps you're here to get information out of me."

"Well..." I frowned. "I am. I mean, I do need to know some things, like what happened here, and where are all the villagers and how can I get into the lagoon facility without dying?"

"Those aren't very Australian questions," the old lady admitted. "Perhaps I might know some answers, but it will cost you."

I frowned. "What...?"

"The soldiers took our families to the facility. The villagers are working as slaves and test-subjects. If I tell you how to get in, you must promise to free them."

"Of course," I began. She lifts a hand to cut me off.

"You are soldiers. You'll do anything to complete your mission. Even sacrifice civilians. Promise me, you'll save them."

"If I can," I said, "but our first priority has to be destroying the missiles. Millions of lives are at stake..." I trail off, seeing the hard look in her eyes. "I promise."

She nodded. "Well then, there's a secret way in. A tunnel beneath the lake. It's their escape route, but you can use it to get in. Write down these coordinates."

She recited a bunch of numbers. I scrawled them on the top of my map with my permanent marker.

"The lock code is 4832-5211," she said.

I added that to my notes. "How do you know this?"

She shrugged. "I was a world-class security expert. I helped build the facility. That's why they left me alive."

"So why are you helping me?"

"The Australians said they wouldn't hurt my family. My children. My grandchildren. They broke their promise. They thought an old lady couldn't get revenge."

I nodded. That was a pretty good reason. "Won't the lock code on the tunnel be changed often?"

"The one I told you should be good for a few more days." She pointed to a dusty radio on the coffee table beside her. "I know how to listen."

"Idiots," I muttered, thinking how stupid they were for broadcasting that kind of information.

"Oh, it's encrypted," she said.

"Still..."

She laughed. "Military intelligence isn't what it used to be."

"Anything else you can tell me?" I asked.

"There's probably still a map in the security room on level three. You'll find controls for the cameras, the automated defense system and the section doors in there. If you can take that room, you'll be able to take the rest of the base."

"I'll need more passwords," I said.

She gave me a wrinkled smile. "They don't broadcast those, but—"

A gunshot silenced us. I dropped to the floor. Courtney lay down beside me, totally silent. Only her warm breath on my arm told me she was still alive. I waited for more bullets. If they sprayed machine-gun fire through the wall, I'd be dead.

Nothing happened.

Staying low, I crawled over to the old woman's chair. The bullet had hit her in the chest. Blood soaked into her clothes and ran down her arm. She was wheezing. "Top... drawer."

I hurried to open the drawer in the grimy computer table she was trying to point to. It had heaps of electronics and junk in it. I looked back at her.

"USB," she croaked.

There was only one of those. A white memory stick with a skull drawn on in vivid. I held it up and she nodded. "Good...luck."

Her eyes drifted closed.

"No," I cried. "Wait. You can't die. I don't even know your name."

She didn't say anything else. My heart felt heavy. Here was another person I'd started to like...dead.

I checked around the house quickly, noticing the bullet hole in the south window. A sniper. I'd have to find them and take them out, or I'd be next. I could bury my new friend later.

"Come on, Courtney," I said. "Let's go hunting."

#  An Unexpected Revelation (Silver)

## Charlotte James

We leave the engineer behind and head due west. It's later afternoon and will be dark soon. Walking is so slow. It's going to take us hours to reach the coast.

"What do we do once we're there?" I ask Jade. "I mean, are we even helping with the mission any more, or have we gone AWOL?"

She shrugs. "Work it out when we get there."

The forest thins after a while and we find ourselves overlooking a valley with an old farm house. There's a broken tractor in the field and in the distance, a sea of sheep.

"Look," Jade says. She's pointing to a couple of specks in a paddock on the other side of the farmhouse. "Horses."

I begin to smile. "Come on."

I had loved riding when I was a girl, before the war. Jade and I used to compete back then, for horse jumping prizes and stuff. She'd won, most of the time. I had been jealous and kind of hated her, until we'd both lost our families in the bombing.

It isn't long before we've introduced ourselves to a couple of the mares and managed to saddle up. The journey's much faster after that. Jade leads the way. She seems to know where we're going, even in the dark. We cut across country, using these great paths and tracks that seem to appear out of nowhere. We don't see a single enemy soldier and before long, we are out of the forest and catch our first glimpse of the sea.

The sky is pink with the first rays of dawn and the water is calm and clear. The only thing dampening the beauty of the scene is the squawking of seagulls.

"We're just south of the village," Jade says. "Let's head for that rise."

We end up on a hill that gives us a great view. Jade dismounts and ties her reins to a tree branch. She takes off her pack, constructs her sniper rifle and loads it with bullets.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Keeping us both alive," she says. "Come on, Silver. Let's check out the village."

I construct my rifle and join her in the grass. Seen through my scope, the village seems unnaturally still.

"Where is everybody?" Jade whispers.

"I was thinking the same thing," I mutter back.

We look at the main street which cuts north to south through town.

"Who's that?" I ask. There's a tiny figure in soldier's green walking down the road. She's got a dog trailing behind her.

"Swift, maybe?" Jade suggests. "I can't quite see."

"But...she should be dead. The plane crash..." I zoom my scope in. "Isn't that an Aussie helmet?"

"Traitor," Jade mutters. "We should take her out."

"We can't be sure, though," I remind her. "Maybe there's a good reason."

"Come on," Jade says. "We have to get closer."

We turn the safeties on, mount our horses and ride north. Ten minutes later, we're set up again. We're on the cliff edge overlooking the harbour. The soldier is on the wharf. Her dog breaks into a run and she chases after it, yelling, "Courtney, heel."

"It is her!" I whisper.

We watch her go into the shack and then try to spy on her through the south window. Neither of us can see her face, but we can see the old lady in the sitting chair.

"Now that's just creepy," I murmur.

Jade doesn't say anything. I glance at her. She looks really angry.

"What's up?" I ask.

"It's all her fault," she whispers.

"Whose? Swift?"

"No, the old lady."

"How do you know?" I'm feeling so confused.

"She just admitted it."

"Since when can you read lips?"

Jade glances over at me and scowls. "You know me, Silver. I've been half deaf since I was a kid."

"Oh... yeah. Sorry, I forgot. So this lady is a traitor?" I zoom in on the south window, seeing the frail old woman in her rocking chair. "And it's her fault our families are dead?"

"She says she helped build the base."

"That's good enough for me." I pull the trigger.

#  Borris' Mum (Bruce)

## Josh Gorman

The whistling wind blows against my cold dry ears. Boris and I walk along the hard cold road. The street is completely empty. There's pretty much no life anywhere to be seen. Eventually, Boris points to one house and says, "There's mum's house."

"I still don't know why you didn't mention her...um, Boris?"

"Yeah?" He glances at me.

"What's that on the porch?"

His mother's place is a red brick house that looks quite modern. The door is still in one piece, but the windows are smashed and there's a white 'x' painted on the side. The deck outside has a table, chairs and at least three Aussie bodies.

"Oh, right," Boris says. "Yeah, my mum used to be special forces."

He walks right up to the door and rings the bell, then puts his hands behind his back and grins up at the key hole. After a couple of minutes, an old lady, who looked about sixty-five, answers the door. She is wearing a pink and white T-shirt, navy pants and hot pink slippers. She also has a sling over her left arm. She grins at us both and hugs Boris.

"Oh, hello Boris," exclaims Boris's Mum.

"Hello, Mum," says Boris.

"Honey, is this your friend?" asks Boris's Mum.

"Yup," says Boris.

"Oh, that's nice. Well, good to meet you. I'm Doris, Boris's mum," says Doris.

"Hi," I say. "My name's Bruce. This is Cluck Cluck." I point to my chicken, still on a leash.

"Nice to meet you. Come in and have a cuppa," says Doris. "Sorry about the mess all over the deck."

I glance back at the deck, close enough to see it properly. There is blood everywhere. One of the men has been stabbed in the eye. Another has a knife still sticking out of his throat. One of the bodies still has an M6 sidearm like mine on his belt.

"Oh, don't worry," Doris says. She's seen the look on my face. "The Aussies won't bother us here. You'll be perfectly safe."

Somehow, that doesn't reassure me much. We wander through the trashed house. Doris casually jumps over a fallen bookshelf, leads us into the kitchen.

"Would you like tea or coffee, dear?" she asks me.

"Coffee," I say.

"And a biscuit?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Boris," she says. "Show your friend to the study. I'll bring the drinks through."

"Come on," Boris says. "You'll like this. It's so cool."

We go to the hall and Boris opens a cupboard. He twists one of the coat hooks which opens a panel in the back. We squeeze through and end up in a medium sized study. There's no windows, but Boris turns on the light and I gasp in amazement. There is a black sofa, a sixty inch plasma TV and a wall covered in knives. There's another locked cabinet full of guns, including a rocket launcher.

Boris and I settle down on the couch and turn on the TV. The only thing showing is the Aussie news channel. The stuff the man is saying is annoying, and totally untrue. Boris turns on his old xbox and loads up Halo 4. He hands me a controller.

"Didn't the Aussies turn off the power in town?" I ask, only just thinking of it.

"Yeah, but mum's got a generator."

"Oh, cool."

We play for a bit, before his mum turns up with our drinks and biscuits on a tray. I press pause.

"Thank you, Mrs..."

"Just Doris is fine," she says.

I take my cup. It's a strong black coffee with three marshmallows in it. There are two chocolate chip biscuits on the side that taste delicious. I eat the biscuits and drink the coffee while Doris tells us about the Aussies who came along and tried to take her to the enemy base.

"This was back when they were rounding up the villagers, you see," she says, taking a sip of her tea. "Of course, I had important things to do here and couldn't spare the time, so I stabbed one in the throat, punched another in the face and shot him in the leg."

Boris nods, like this is very reasonable behaviour for an old lady, but then I guess it's his mum. He knows her better than anyone.

"Then this big brute came in and slashed my arm," she goes on. "I was bleeding badly, but I grabbed my knife and rammed up into his kidney."

I stare at her in amazement.

She shrugs like it's nothing. "There was a little guy cowering outside. He tried to shoot me, but his gun misfired. He probably hadn't been cleaning it. Well, I shot him in the gut and said I would cut him to pieces unless he radioed and said I was dead. Then I took his radio and let him go.

"But..." I begin to protest, thinking he could have just told his superiors when he reached them.

"You don't go far with a gut wound," she says. "He'll be dead out in a field somewhere, no doubt. Anyway, the Aussie's will be back to pick up their men soon enough. They have that much respect at least."

"What do we do when they come?" I ask.

"Stay quiet. They won't find you in here."

"What about you? Won't they expect to find you dead?"

"That's what the spattered bits of dead cow and exploded furniture in the lounge are for. They'll assume there's nothing left of me."

What a tough old lady, I think.

"What will you do now, boys?" Doris asks us.

"We can't go off on our own," I point out. "We're pilots, not soldiers. We should stay here until the others arrive."

"Good idea," Boris agrees. He picks up his controller and we settle back into playing our game.

#  Main Squad (John)

## Joshua James

After the clash in the valley, those of us still able to walk left off on foot. To our surprise, we found very little resistance. On the third night, the scout I'd sent ahead reported back with interesting news. Over in the next valley was a farm house with a couple of barns. The idea of shelter appealed to us all, so we pushed on and made camp in the main building. Before I slept, I checked out the barns, hoping for transport. There had probably been a couple of farm bikes, but they were long gone. A sheet covered an old four-wheel drive, but the engine was a mess. It wasn't going to drive anywhere. Disappointed, I set watch and lay down to catch some sleep.

The next morning, I smelled something cooking and went downstairs to see a couple of my men roasting meat over an open fire.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I roared at them.

"Breakfast, Lieutenant," Private Mitchell replied. There was a half-butchered sheep over by the chopping block. The axe was still wet with blood.

"Do you see that smoke?" I asked. The plume rose well past the tree tops. I took a deep breath, ready to rip into him about basic training and concealment and all that... but then a bullet hit Mitchell in the head, spraying me with blood and brains.

"Take cover," I yelled, retreating into the farmhouse.

"Idiot," I muttered as we took position on the second floor. I set myself up in the master bedroom, near a window overlooking Mitchell's body. I counted two other bodies outside. Damn it..

"We have the high ground," I broadcasting to all my troops. "We stand a good chance. Stay calm and when you get a clear shot, take it." We could make it out of this alive, I thought, as long as the enemy didn't have rockets or other explosives handy.

We waited, and waited. Minutes turned into hours. I snuck down to the first floor, keeping low as I passed windows. There I found a broom and an injured soldier's helmet. I stuck the helmet on the end of the broom and poked it out the door. The response was instant. A bullet smashed into the helmet. I pulled the broom and helmet back inside, then slammed the door shut.

A single sniper? Or a whole troop waiting to attack? What were they waiting for? This was maddening. I had to get my men out of here.

I took the broom and helmet contraption over to the other side of the house and lifted it up in front of a big window. Nothing happened.

Maybe there was only one sniper. Risking something a big stupid, I put my hand up and pulled it straight back down. Still nothing. Well, they didn't call me crazy for nothing. I checked my weapons, buckled my helmet and said to Sargent Samuels, "Create some commotion at the front door. If this goes wrong, you're in command."

"Sir?" Samuels said.

I opened the window and climbed out. Still alive. I hurried along the house, staying low. I heard shots again. Samuels.

I took advantage of what I hoped was the sniper's distraction to cross the open space between the corner of the house and the back of the barn.

Still not dead. Getting closer. I did the same to reach the next barn. Obviously the sniper's patience was wearing thin, or Samuels was doing a good job of annoying him.

From the second barn, I ran for the forest. It was a steep climb, but I kept low and quiet. Every shot the sniper made gave me a better idea of where to find him. I circled around behind, taking nearly half an hour to pin-point his location.

There he was, almost blending into the fallen leaves. My anger took over then. Instead of shooting him in the back of the head, clean and simple, I pulled my combat knife.

"You killed my men," I whispered, before attacking.

When I came back to my senses, there was blood everywhere and the sniper was very dead. I radioed my men to say the threat had been taken care of.

Nearby, I found the sniper's quad bike. Had probably belonged to the farm, at some point. I took it back.

After burying our boys, I sent a couple of my troops to scout ahead on the bike. The rest of us continued on foot. They came back an hour later with news that they'd found an abandoned, bullet ridden hummer. Looked like ours. The wheels were flat, but it still worked.

I sent them back to the farmhouse to salvage wheels of the four-wheel drive in the barn. It wouldn't be a perfect fit, but it would do. With that hummer we could make good time to the village. Once my people were at the checkpoint, I'd consider George's request to send someone back for the wounded we'd left behind.

#  Out in the Fields (Mike)

## Kieran Gullidge

Mike's quad bike ran out of fuel. They were only two kilometres from the village.

"We'll have to walk it," Mike said.

Tom just nodded.

As they wandered across the fields to the south of the village, a man suddenly jumped out of the ditch holding an old eight-gage shotgun.

"You may have killed my family, but you won't get me, you Aussie scum." The man pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He was clearly out of ammo. He threw the gun aside and ran straight at Mike. He swung his fist toward Mike's face, but Mike dodged, turned, and shoved him to the ground.

"We are not the enemy," Mike said. "Calm down. We're here to help."

"We're from New Zealand," Tom added.

"Where were you when the Aussies invaded?" the man screamed. "You don't care about us."

"We were bombed," Tom began to protest.

"Enough, Tom," said Mike. "We don't have time."

The man curled up into ball and started muttering, "It's okay, my little Angel. Daddy's gonna keep you safe."

Mike left him there.

"But Sir," Tom said, hurrying to keep up. "We have to help that man."

"No we don't, soldier," Mike replied. "Not right now. Later maybe, once the mission is complete. I don't have to remind you how many lives are at stake."

"No, Sir. You're right."

They ran the last kilometre. When they arrived in the village, the streets were deserted. Maybe the Aussies really had killed everyone.

#  Lizard Nest (Bob)

## Oliver Kerr

Huckleberry, Bob and Fang walk slowly along a well-trod path a few miles east of the village. Behind them, Alice and Jane are talking in hushed voices.

"I think the mthers have massed through mere," calls out Huckleberry.

"Sorry?" Jane says.

"The others," Bob says. "Huckleberry things they've passed through here."

"Oh, right."

"Stay alert," Bob replies. Up ahead they see a swampy marsh area. He stops where the path veers off to the south. Jane walks up beside him to survey the area.

"I think we could save some time by going through," Jane says.

Bob glances at Huckleberry, who nods.

"Umm, okay," Bob replies.

Huckleberry takes the lead, with Fang by his side. The Doberman's hackles are raised. He isn't enjoying the swamp one bit. They take a high path, walking carefully along the edge of a slope that rolls down to boggy marshland.

Just a few minutes in, Bob sees something move in front of him! It is a small, scaly, four-legged creature the size of a small bottle. A lizard!

Bob freaks out and nearly goes wild with his pistol, but fortunately the safety is on.

"Mwhoa! Mwhoa mere," Huckleberry says, putting a hand on Bob's shoulder. Bob takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. He steps backwards, slips and rolls down into a muddy lizard nest, surrounded by marsh grass. The lizards swarm over him, small wet feet making his skin crawl. Bob screams, feeling nips of pain as the lizards begin to bite.

Bob starts rolling and kicking, flailing his arms and legs. He hears Huckleberry stumbling down the hillside to help. Fang is right beside him.

"Don't morry, Mob. I am moming," shouts Huckleberry.

Bob manages throw off enough lizards to stand up. He takes the safety off his pistol and begins firing wildly into the swarm of lizards at his feet. They surge up his trousers and begin biting him again. Bob screams and drops the pistol. Huckleberry comes flying in, swinging a machete around like a mad man. Fang launches himself at the swarm, biting and barking.

Bob ducks out of the way, throwing off lizards and beating a hasty retreat. When he nears the top of the hill, his feet begin to slide on the mud, but Alice and Jane grabs his arms and pull him up onto the path. Alice helps Bob pull off the few remaining lizards while Jane yells, "Get back here, Huckleberry."

Huckleberry is still swinging his machete around, slicing leaves and lizards alike. After a quick glance to see that Bob is safe, Huckleberry starts back up the hill himself.

"Met's mo," he says, out of breath, when he reaches the top.

Jane nods, apparently understanding him this time. "Now those lizards have a taste for human blood, they might want more."

They don't stop moving until they leave the swamp a few hours later. Bob collapses under the shade of a tree, panting for air. Blood trickles from the many bite wounds on his ears, arms, face and legs. Huckleberry leans against a nearby tree, cleaning blood off his machete.

Alice crouches beside Bob, a med-kit in her hands. "We should disinfect those wounds," she says. "Who knows what diseases they might have been carrying."

Bob winces as she dabs iodine on the cuts.

"Why do you hate lizards so much Bob?" asks Alice.

"I've hated them ever since primary school when a bully poured his pet lizards into my sleeping bag on a school camp," says Bob, embarrassed.

Alice nods, not asking any more questions.

"Manks mor melping," Huckleberry says to Jane, who is cleaning her gun.

Jane shrugs. "You had it under control."

At nightfall, the group finishes a cold supper and begins to tramp through the undergrowth—just a few hours away from the village.

#  Gathering Forces (Mike)

## Kieran Gullidge

Mike and Tom walked through the village. It was just after sunset and the light was fading fast.

"Be ready for an ambush, Private. Get your side arm ready," Mike said.

Tom checked his M6 machine pistol (modelled on an old-school Halo gun like many other weapons in the colonel's arsenal) and nodded. "Ready, Sir."

Mike only had half a clip left for his MA5B assault rifle, so he slung it over his back and pulled a pair of M7 submachine guns from his belt. Mike preferred his MA5B assault rifle because it had higher muzzle velocity and better range, but for up close you couldn't get much better then a pair of M7 SMGs.

"Where are we headed, Sir?" Tom asked.

"That way." Mike gestured north, along the road out of town. "Hopefully the safe-house is still intact."

"Careful," Mike whispers a few minutes later. Up ahead is an Aussie transport truck parked outside a red-brick house. There is one guard standing on the road near the back and a couple of men on the porch with body bags. Mike mutters a curse.

"What is it, Sir?" Tom whispers.

"That's our target."

"That brick house?"

"Our agent lived there and, if we're lucky, her bunker will still have a few things we need."

"Do you think the Aussie's have found it?"

"Don't know," Mike muttered. "Only one way to find out. You take cover behind that brick fence in the neighbouring property. On my mark, give me suppressing fire for the men up on the porch. I'll take out the guard, then eliminate the others."

Tom swallowed. He was a brave kid, but not used to combat. Still, he saluted and then crept away to hide behind the brick fence. Mike, meanwhile, circled around and crossed the road while the guard was looking the other way.

Silently, Mike ran up behind him and brought his elbow down toward the mans neck. The man moved forward at the last second. Mike missed and stumbled. The man heard the noise and spun around. Mike punched him under the chin and wrenched the tactical shotgun out of the man's hands. Mike slammed the butt of the shotgun into the soldier's head with such force that his neck snapped. The man fell to the ground.

Machine pistol fire opened up. Tom had clearly taken the noise as the signal he'd been waiting for. The men on the porch yelled. Mike stepped over the corpse and glanced inside the truck. One body bag inside, but no-one else. He peered around the truck at the house to see three men scrambling for cover. The M6 machine pistol was wildly inaccurate at anything except close range, but there wasn't anywhere to hide on that porch. One man was down with bullet holes in his neck and shoulders. Another had been shot in the leg and rolled off the porch, hiding in the bushes. The third had managed to jump through the broken window and was hiding inside the house.

Mike shot the man in the bushes, then saw a face in the truck's wing mirror. The driver had climbed out the passenger side and crept up behind him. Mike dropped to the ground as the driver's shot sounded. Surprised, the driver didn't react immediately, which gave Mike enough time to roll over and shoot him in the hand. The soldier's gun dropped as his hand was shredded by the machine fire. The man screamed and sank to his knees. Mike jumped to his feet and dragged the man back behind the truck—out of sight of the soldier inside the house.

The driver struggled against Mike's grip, even with his shattered hand. He kneed Mike in the gut and Mike doubled over, dropping his guns. He brought his elbow down toward Mike's neck, but Mike dodged at the last second so the man tumbled forward and smashed his nose on the tarmac. There was a satisfying crunch as the man broke his arm. This was Mike's chance. He kicked the man in the stomach and jumped up. Then, he grabbed his combat knife and drove it deep into the man's chest, piercing the left lung. The man lay on the road, heaving and coughing. His shaking, broken hand reached for the MP5 single-fire carbine still hooked on his belt.

"I may die," he coughed, "but I'm going to take you with me."

Before Mike had time to dive out of the way, a shot rang out and a squirt of blood came from the side of the dead man's head. The man's eyes rolled back and his whole body went limp. Mike breathed a sigh of relief.

"Was that you, Tom?" he called, checking around the corner of the truck.

Tom popped up from behind the fence and shook his head. "Not me, Sir. Is the coast clear?"

"Would seem so," Mike responded. "Except for whoever shot this soldier...and the man inside the house. Keep down and keep your eyes open, Private."

"Sir, yes Sir."

Mike scanned the surrounding area for the mysterious sniper, but didn't expect to see anyone. He just hoped they wouldn't choose to shoot him too. He crept toward the house, watching for any movement at the windows. Then suddenly, the lights flickered. He crouched in front of the porch, expecting a shot, but none came. The lights flickered again. He recognized that pattern.

"Agent fifty-four?"

"Welcome to the Chathams, Colonel Patterson," a woman said. The door opened to reveal a face he knew very well. She grinned at him. "Surprised to see me."

"I thought you were dead," he said.

"So did they." Her grin turned feral. She held up a blood-spattered radio. "You might want to answer this."

A soldier with an Aussie accent was asking for a status report. Mike called Tom out of hiding, then followed Doris inside. Once the door was shut, he took the radio and used his best Aussie accent to say, "Enemy combatants eliminated, Sir."

"Return to base, soldier."

"Sir, we have wounded. Can't move them until treated. Please send medical."

"We don't have medical to spare, soldier. We've lost stations all over the island. Return to base. Lock-down is in twelve hours. After that, we launch."

"Understood, Sir." Mike took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. He hadn't expected them to buy his phoney accent, but maybe the static made it too hard for them to tell.

"You'll have to move quickly," Doris said.

"Is there any way inside once they've locked the place down?" Tom asked.

"None that I know of," Doris replied.

Mike scowled. This wasn't going according to plan. Something dripped on his shoulder. Blood. He glanced up at the ceiling to see a flap of meat hanging from the lamp. The whole room was covered in blood stains and charred black marks from some kind of explosion.

"I hope that wasn't our missing solider," he said grimly.

"Oh no," Doris replied. She pointed to a black human-size lump beside the mangled lazy-boy. "He's just there. I'll deal with him later."

A loud banging rattled the front door. They heard a vicious growl and a bark. The three of them jumped.

"Sir?" a woman's voice said outside. "Colonel Patterson? It's me, Swift."

Doris pulled her gun. "I'll cover you."

Mike edged toward the window and peered out. Standing on the porch was a ragged-looking girl in New Zealand uniform, holding a knife to another girl's throat.

"Swift?" he opened the door, surprised to see the young dog-trainer looking quite so feral. "Come inside. What's going on?"

Swift shoved the other girl—Private Silver Path—into the room. Silver stumbled and fell. Swift's dog, Courtney, growled. Silver scrambled away into a corner, hugging her bleeding arm to her chest.

"This woman should be court-marshalled," Swift said. "She's clearly working for the enemy."

"What?" Mike asked. "Do you have proof."

"She shot and killed the old woman living down at the dock, just as she was about to give me vital information about the inner workings of the enemy base, Sir!"

"Also," Tom added, "she abandoned me at the plane crash."

Mike scowled. He didn't need these sorts of complications right now. The mission was risky enough as it was.

"Private Path," Mike said, "why did you shoot the old woman?"

"We thought Swift was the traitor," Silver said. "The old woman had already admitted to helping the enemy build the base. Anyway, how did Swift survive the plane crash? She was supposed to jump. Maybe she sabotaged the plane."

"Actually," Bruce said, emerging from the hallway. "We were hit by an anti-aircraft missile fired from the enemy base, and Swift is alive because we drove her to safety before the plane exploded."

Mike swung around. "You're here too?"

"This is my mum's house," Boris said, joining them in the lounge. "We've been waiting for you. There's hot drinks and Halo in the secret room."

For a moment, Mike was tempted, but he sighed heavily and shook his head. "Maybe once we've finished the mission."

"Where have you been, anyway?" Bruce asked Swift.

"Hunting this idiot." She gestured toward Silver.

"Where is Private Jade?" Mike asked.

"Jade and I split up when we realized this crazy woman was chasing us. I don't know, after that."

Mike groaned. "Honestly, I don't care who did what right now. As long as you're all on our side, which it sounds like you are, then gear up and get ready for the final assault."

Swift didn't look impressed, but she nodded.

"Come with me," Bruce said to her. "I bet you'll love the arsenal Doris has got stashed away."

Bruce, Boris, Swift and Courtney walked away down the corridor toward the secret room. Mike heard some clucking in the distance and frowned, wondering why there would be a chicken in the house, but then he remembered his secondary mission.

"Tom, take care of Private Silver's arm. Doris, I need eyes on HAVOK."

"Is there a medical kit, Sir?" Tom replied. "I believe Silver may have been bitten."

"You can take anything you like from the cache," Doris said. "Just follow the others."

Doris and Mike followed Tom down the hallway, but kept going out into the large over-grown backyard. The shed in the back corner caught Mike's eye. As they drew near, he saw the door was holding on by one hinge and a rusty padlock.

"You got the key?" he asked.

"Nah," she replied. "You look like you need to let off steam so I thought you'd rather kick the door down. "

Mike didn't need to be told twice. He gave the wooden door a rough kick and it tumbled inward with a showed of dust.

"Yep, that felt pretty good, but I'm not sure what I think about our security measures." The shed was practically falling apart. The shelves were cluttered with rusty pain cans, boxes of nails and screws, hinges, files, broken wooden toys and dusty, half finished model aeroplanes.

"Oh, don't worry." Doris smiled. She pulled a drawer open, lifted out a box full of paintbrushes and then slid away the false bottom to reveal a palm-scanner. "You might want to move over here a bit."

Mike shifted to where Doris was pointing. She touched the palm-scanner and, with a groan, the concrete floor of the shed shuddered and slid aside to reveal a staircase leading down.

At the bottom of the stairs was a thick steel door with a DNA-scanner and security panel.

"All yours, Sir," Doris said. She turned and left, closing the cover behind her. Alone in the dark, Mike lowered his helmet's night-vision visor. He placed his hand against the DNA scanner, feeling the prick as it took a sample of his blood. Then he typed in the security code and repeated it for the final voice check. The door swung open.

Inside was a deep concrete pit. He walked around the ledge, taking a good look at the HAVOK nuclear warheads stashed below. New Zealand's last remaining back-up plan. He reached the operations platform where an old-fashioned computer desk would allow him to set the timer. Twelve hours. That's all the time they had left to infiltrate the enemy base before the bio-weapons would be launched.

He switched on the radio and sent an encoded message back to high command.

"Sir?" he said. "This is Colonel Patterson. ID Alpha-Three-Niner-Niner. I'm in position. Please confirm we are a go for Operation HAVOK."

There was a crackle, then a pause. Mike wondered if he'd got the right channel. Then a man replied, "Patterson, this is General Barr, ID Alpha-Six-Zero-Six. You are a go. I repeat, mission is a go. Arm missiles for automatic detonation and proceed to engage the enemy."

"Rodger that." Mike switched on the control station and unlocked the command mechanism. He typed in the authority code the General had given him to memorize, then set the timer for eleven hours and thirty minutes. If they couldn't destroy the enemy weapons before they launched, they'd just have to blow up the whole island.

"Missiles armed. Detonation count-down initiated," he said over the radio.

"Acknowledged, Colonel," Barr replied. "Good luck out there."

"Thank you, Sir," Mike said. He turned off the radio, then left the bunker. They had better get moving, he thought. Time was running out.

#  Reconciliation (Tom)

## Beaulah Pragg

I had to negotiate my way past Swift, Bruce and Boris to access Doris' supply cache. They seemed very excited, but were nice enough to throw me a Med-kit when I told them what I was looking for. I headed back to the lounge past the kitchen where I refilled my canteen.

Silver hadn't moved much by time I got back. She was still staring in horror at the blood-soaked ceiling. "What kind of house is this?"

I knew what she meant, but didn't say anything. Instead, I crouched beside her and carefully unbuttoned, then rolled up her sleeve. She winced as it revealed the bite, but she didn't look at me.

Her arm was a mess. My stomach turned, seeing it so close up, but it was hardly worse than this nasty room. I washed the wound as best I could, first with water from the canteen, then with iodine from the pack. She said a few rude things, but I pretended not to hear.

Once I'd done everything I could for the wound, I bandaged it with sterile gauze from the pack.

"At least you can shoot one-handed," I said in what I hoped would be an up-beat tone.

She glared at me, like she wanted to say something mean, but then suddenly looked confused.

"Why are you helping me?" she said after a while. "I abandoned you back there. You should hate me like Swift does."

I shrugged. "I was disappointed, but I'd been expecting it for a while. I was slowing you down. You wanted me to be someone else's problem."

"You could have died," she murmured.

"Yeah, could have, but I didn't. As the Colonel says, we've all got a job to do, right?"

She sighed. "Yeah, I guess so..."

"What is it?" I asked.

She pointed at the broken window. Jade crouched on the window sill, a shadow against the night sky outside. She had her pistol, complete with silencer, pointed at my head. My hands flew up in the air.

"Whoa!" I said. "Don't shoot."

"You alright, Silver?" she asked.

"Yeah, fine," Silver said. "It's alright, Jade. The Colonel's given us a pardon."

"What about Swift? She ordered her dog to attack you. Who says she won't turn on us again?"

"I don't know," Silver admitted. "Let's just keep our distance. We're snipers. That's what we do."

Jade didn't look convinced. The gun was still pointing straight at me.

"Umm..." I murmured. "What part of the plan involves killing me?"

Jade blinked, then lowered the pistol. "Oh, sorry Tom."

"No worries," I said, but it came out a bit squeaky.

"The others are nearly here," Jade said. "I saw them just outside of town; a convoy of our guys from the valley and a couple of stragglers coming down from the marsh-area."

Silver nodded. "Good timing."

Jade frowned again. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can get us out of here. They won't find us. They'll be too busy."

"No." Silver shook her head. "I don't want to do this, but I'm going to. Those Aussie scum murdered my family. I don't want to die, but I don't want to live knowing I ran away from a chance at revenge."

"Alright." Jade nodded. "Then we're in. Tom, have they got any spare sniper ammo? I'm totally out."

"I don't know," I replied. "You'll have to come take a look."

"Just mind the dog," Silver said with a grimace.

#  Arriving in the Village (Jane)

## Grace Stapleton

Jane, Alice, Bob, Huckleberry and Fang kept walking until about two in the morning. It had been a full on day and everybody was exhausted. Jane could have happily gone to sleep after they'd eaten dinner, but it was pretty obvious that Bob wanted to get as far away from the lizards nest as possible. They hadn't made the best progress since the plane crash due to Huckleberry's injuries. Slow and steady, then slower, and slower. Their procession through the wild undergrowth could only be called 'trudging'. The ground had been a slippery mess, with all falling victim to it at least once. Now they were covered in bruises as well as mud.

At some point after sun-down, Alice had managed to get separated from the rest of the group. It had taken half an hour to find her again. She had come out of it a lot worse for wear, with scratches the length of her forearm dark red with blood. Strangely, she refused to tell anybody what had happened or let them stop to bandage her arms, saying she had wasted enough of their time already.

Every movement of the forest, even the rustle of leaves in the wind, had set Bob on edge and Huckleberry reaching for his machete, ready to kill more lizards. No more had turned up, but quite a few innocent birds got beheaded in their place. At least Fang wouldn't go hungry.

Twenty-five minutes ago, they had came across two enemy soldiers camped on a hill overlooking the road into town. Jane took them out with her rifle from behind, and then their group ran flat out in case there were any others around. Jane suspected she wasn't the only one who had seen the scaly little reptile start gnawing on the dead mans leg before they had taken of—which might have added a little bit of incentive as well.

Finally they stopped running once they reached a house right at the edge of the village. Jane held up her hand, calling for them to keep quiet and low to the ground. She and Huckleberry snuck around the whole perimeter of the house, checking for enemies and traps. They peered inside with their flash-lights. It looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. They tried the doors. The back one was broken off its hinges.

"We won't be able to lock ourselves in," Jane said.

Huckleberry just shrugged. He had a point. They'd been sleeping out in the open since they arrived. Any level of shelter would be a nice change. They reported back to the others, then finally made camp in the musty brown-carpeted lounge. Bob wanted to claim one of the bedrooms, but Jane insisted they stayed together. "Besides," she said, "you have no idea what kind of bugs have infested the mattresses since humans last lived here."

The house was quite nice. The pantry was still stuffed with food anyway, which was a bonus. Most of it had gone off according to Huckleberry so they grabbed out the tinned food and piled it up on the kitchen counter top. Alice found a medical kit after exploring the house and Jane helped her clean up the scratches she had gotten the night before. She still wouldn't say how she got them, claiming the story was too embarrassing. Alice complained rather loudly when Jane cleaned the cuts out with disinfectant, but stayed silent while Jane sewed up the skin as best as she could with her limited skills. Jane didn't know what to do about the lizard bites Bob had gotten, so she just gave him a box of plasters and hoped they'd be sufficient. Huckleberry came into the dining room carrying an arm load of cans, he dumped them on the table and everybody tucked in. Jane chose cold spaghetti and soup, which tasted only slightly better than it sounded.

Huckleberry took first watch, leaving the others to find the comfiest spot of floor to serve as a bed. Jane had a wonky floorboard poking into her back, but she was too tired to bother moving. Fang lay down beside her. With the dog as a living hot-water-bottle, Jane fell asleep within minutes.

Jane woke up when something started tapping at her head. She opened her bleary eyes to see a shoe coming back to nudge her again.

"Hey," she mumbled in protest, pushing the shoe away before it could make contact.

"Morning," Alice said, annoyingly chirpy for so early in the morning. "You might be interested to know that a hummer full of soldiers just drove by, on their way into town."

"What?" Jane sat up, full awake. "Aussies, or ours?"

"Not sure. Couldn't get a good look."

"Huckleberry agrees that we should follow them, at a safe distance, so we'll have to skip breakfast and leave now."

Jane glared at her to show she wasn't pleased with this plan. Alice just smiled and walked off, maybe to kick somebody else in the head. Jane got up, packed her things in record time and hurried out the door to catch up with Huckleberry. He was already half-way up the road. The sun had barely risen and the shadows were still long. They kept out of sight with guns ready to shoot, but it soon became apparent that the village was empty of civilians and enemy soldiers alike.

"What do we do?" Bob asked when he caught up. He sounded as uneasy as Jane felt. Huckleberry held his hand up for them to be quiet. He had his binoculars out. He passed them to Jane and pointed off in the distance. Her breath caught as she looked through them. Further down the road, right near the other end of town, was the hummer they'd been following. It was parked opposite an Aussie transport truck. Soldiers were ferrying things back and forth from the house to the truck.

Jane lowered the binoculars. "Is that...?"

"Our muniforms," Huckleberry murmured through his beard.

"Let me look!" Bob reached for the binoculars.

Jane let him have them, saying to Alice, "I think we've found our people."

"Do we just walk over to them and find out?" she replied. "What if they shoot first and ask questions later."

Jane made a face. "I wouldn't put it past some of them. Hmm, have you got anything white?"

"We could use my spare singlet, though it's more of a pale yellow colour now," she suggested.

"It'll have to do," Jane said. Alice rummaged through her pack, pulling out cans of beans and peaches she'd stolen from the house, before finally reaching her spare set of clothes. Before they had a chance to rig their make-shift flag, Huckleberry snatched the singlet and walked straight out onto the road. He lifted his pistol and fired three times straight up. Jane stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Are you mental?! You're going to get us all killed!" she screamed at him, her voice mingling with Alice and Bob's who had both burst out yelling at the same time as her.

Huckleberry ignored them all and just kept walking toward the other soldiers. At least he'd holstered his pistol and started waving the singlet around. Fang bounded down the road after him, barking gleefully.

Jane and the others followed him reluctantly, still keeping close to the ditch at the side of the road, in case their fellow soldiers decided to shoot. Fortunately, none of the hot-heads had been outside when Huckleberry decided to make his presence known. Lieutenant John Smith met them a few hundred meters from the trucks.

"Sir," they all saluted.

"Reporting for duty," Jane added.

"Where have you been, soldiers?" John looked them up and down, his nose crinkling at the smell.

"Walked through a swamp, sir," Jane replied.

"Indeed," he said. "Go inside and restock. We move out in half-an-hour."

The house he referred to was like something out of one of those old horror-mazes. The ceiling was spattered with blood and bits of meat, which might have been cow, or person. Jane thought she might be sick.

"Huckleberry!" a girl screamed. There was a blur of movement and suddenly Swift crashed into Huckleberry, nearly knocking him to the ground with the force of her hug. He grunted and Jane winced, knowing he was probably feeling all his injuries at that moment. Still, he ruffled the girl's hair and said, "Mood to mee mou, Miwft."

Swift stepped back, composing herself, and nearly said something when Fang nosed his way past Huckleberry and gave her hand a big lick. She squealed again and then descended into dog-adoration, which mostly involved, "Who's a good boy?" and "Yes, you are."

Jane left her to it, steering Bob and Alice down the corridor to where the others were clearly ferrying the supplies from.

"Load up, guys," she said. "Sounds like this is the last stop before the end of the line."

#  Moving Out (Mike)

## Kieran Gullidge

"Sir," the medic said. "We can't leave out people in the valley. They're badly wounded and may die without medical attention."

"You clearly don't understand the gravity of the situation," Mike said. "If we don't destroy that facility, we all die, along with everyone left alive back home. We press on, and yes, that include you."

At least the medic didn't complain any further. Mike saw that John had taken care of loading up their transports with as much weaponry and equipment as they could carry. A couple of soldiers had salvaged some vans from the village and borrowed fuel from the transport truck—just enough to get them to the lagoon.

Mike was interested to see that John had also raided Doris' marina supply shop. She had apparently told them about the entrance to the hidden basement where she's stashed some supplies. Now they had a trailer attached to one of the vans with a motorized jet ski and he was sure he saw scuba gear and oxygen tanks.

They said goodbye to Doris and set off. The trip north was bumpy, but relatively uneventful. They stopped in a hilly forest area just south of the lagoon. The soldiers worked quickly to disguise the vehicles and set up a perimeter. While they worked, Mike called a meeting of his specialists.

"Somehow," he said, "we're going to find a way into this facility and take it down from the inside-out. If we convince them we're Aussie soldiers, perhaps they'll let us across the drawbridge..."

"Sir?" Swift piped up. "I have a better idea. There's a secret tunnel and I have the code."

#  Another Option (Swift)

## Phoebe Kerr

Mike looked sceptical. "If there was a secret entrance, our spies would have informed us."

"That's stupid," I said. "If it was secret, how would they have known?"

Mike glared at me. I had crossed a line by telling him he was stupid, but I stubbornly crossed my arms. "I'm telling you, it's there."

"Then find it," he said. He turned away from me to focus on planning the main assault with Lieutenant Smith.

"Okay, I will," I said, more to myself than him. I walked with Fang and Courtney at my side. I kept looking at the ground. It took me twenty-five minutes of pacing near the GPS coordinates the old woman had given me, but eventually I saw it. A slab of dirt that wasn't quite like the rest. I crouched and pressed my hand against the earth. It was cool to the touch and hard. I felt around a bit and then brushed some dirt off a number pad. This was it.

I typed in the code and heard a satisfying hiss. The whole slab popped up a couple of millimetres and I could see a handle. I pulled the door open, revealing a long, deep shaft. It smelled musty, like sea water and mud. I pushed the door shut again and marked the spot with two dead branches in an 'X'. I hurried back to the base to tell the commander.

#  Stealing a Jet Ski (John)

## Joshua James

In the distance I could hear my target—some jet skis which I would use to get to the island. We had one, but we'd need more if the colonel's plan was going to work. Besides, it could hurt to take out a few more sentries.

Below me, I saw a rickety wooden wharf. It only had three Aussies guarding it. Easy. They didn't stand a chance. I leapt from behind a tree and charged down the bank firing wildly. The first fell instantly, with a gaping hole in his chest. The second one dropped his gun and ran. I let him go I was too busy trying to not die. I dropped to the ground as the last Aussie opened up. I flung a grenade behind me and ducked the rain of dirt and mud. The noise brought the jet ski sentries in a hurry. When they climbed up onto the wharf, my men mowed them down with a rain of bullets.

I walked to the end of what was left of the wharf and climbed down. I quickly secured the jet skis.

Next stop: the enemy base.

#  Stealth Team (Swift)

## Phoebe Kerr

Mike finalized the plan. I was to lead Huckleberry, Bob, George, Tom, Alice, and Jane into the based via the secret tunnel. We were the stealth team and official, Jane was in charge. Mike thought that she was the sanest out of everyone who wanted to do the sneak attack. Clearly, he didn't know Jane very well. Still I knew I wouldn't have to follow her orders for long.

"So where is this tunnel, Swift?" asked Jane.

"Follow me," I said and ran off. I reached the clearing and started to look around. Then I saw what I was looking for. My marker. Two dead branches making a X.

"Here we are," I said, and I pushed the branches aside and re-entered the code. Huckleberry helped me pull the trap-door open.

"Man that was harder than I remember," I said.

"No time to rest. Come on," Alice said and jumped down the hole.

"How far down does it go?" asked Huckleberry.

"Not far. Come on. Jump down," Alice said.

One by one we jumped down.

"Courtney, down," I said. Courtney jumped down. "Down Fang," I said, and down he went.

Then I jumped down. It was dark and smelled bad, but our helmets had night vision mode, so we didn't need torches. We walked along for about twenty minutes, then we saw a ladder up to a trapdoor. Jane climbed up, pushed it open and went up. We heard a groan and then a thump.

"Ok guys, come up," said Jane.

I was the next closest and I climbed up the ladder. When I got up I saw a man on the black stone floor.

"What did you do to him," I asked.

"I hit him in the back of the neck," said Jane when everyone was up.

"Ok," I said, "me and Huckleberry and my dogs will take Tom. We'll find the plans the old woman talked about and try to get Tom to a place where he can disable the bio-weapons. You find the civilians for me, okay? I promised that old lady."

"Okay. Just remember to get out before oh-three-thirty, or you'll blow with the rest of this place," said Jane and she ran off with Alice, George and Bob.

"Ok, so what level do you we need to be on?" asked Huckleberry.

"Level three," I replied. We crept through the corridors, not sure where we were or how to get to level three. Tom saw a sign by a stairwell.

"We're on B1," he said.

We took the stairs up to the second floor without meeting anyone, but discovered they didn't go any further. We would have to find another way to reach level three.

We kept to the shadows and listened carefully. We passed an empty cafeteria and a gym. Then Courtney and Fang both started growling. Two military men walked around the corner up ahead. They weren't wearing much armour and only had sidearms. Huckleberry pulled a pair of throwing knives from his belt and killed one of them before he even realized we were there. I shot the other in the head with my silenced pistol.

My heart was pounding. We had to get the bodies out of the way. We hid them in the gym and stole their swipe cards.

We tried the corridor the men had come from. There was a locked door with a window in it.

"That has to be it," I said. "I think I can see stairs down the end of this corridor."

Tom had a look and agreed. We tried the first swipe card, but the light went red. Huckleberry tried the second card. I held my breath, worried we'd set off some kind of alarm, but instead, the door opened.

"Come on," I whispered. "Quick."

We hurried down the corridor and up the stairs. The third floor was scary. It only had one light bulb, and that was dying by the minute.

"What's going on here?" I murmured. "Why does this place seem so deserted?"

"I don't know," Tom murmured, "but I don't like it."

I looked at my watch. Twelve thirty one. "We need to get moving."

I picked the first door on the left and nudged it open. With my night vision activated, I could see a man inside, apparently asleep. I closed the door again and kept going.

There were two more doors along the corridor. The one at the end had a blinking red light above the door.

"That one," I whispered.

"Mkay," Huckleberry said.

I walked towards the door, then realized that it had a palm scanner and a retinal scanner. They didn't want people breaking in.

Huckleberry and I crouched either side of the door with a dog each beside us.

"What are we going to do?" I asked.

"Maybe that man back there can open the door?" Tom suggested.

"Mmph," Huckleberry grunted in agreement. He snuck back down the corridor with Fang. I didn't hear anything, except for a snap, then Huckleberry returned, dragging a dead body.

I made a face, but didn't say anything. We opened the door pretty easily after that. We burst in with our silenced pistols ready. Two men were sitting at a desk. They died before they had a chance to raise the alarm. We pulled the other dead body into the room and shut the door behind us.

Huckleberry and I went straight to the filing cabinets on the left side of the room, while Tom investigated the computers. Most of the stuff in my cabinet was personnel files and official orders from Australian command.

"Look," Huckleberry said suddenly. He pulled out a brown folder stuffed with papers. "I got it."

We opened the folder on the desk and shuffled through a whole lot of specifications and plans. We saw the layout of each floor, including hidden passages and stairs.

"Here," I said, pointing to the lowest level. "This is where they're keeping the prisoners. And here's the lab where they're testing the bio-weapons."

Tom grinned. "I've turned off all the security alarms and cut power to the automated external defense grid. At least the rest of our guys won't all die in the main attack."

"That's good," I said. Then I wondered if Silver and Jade would be part of that attack, or if they'd just hang back sniping people like always. I wouldn't be surprised if they were the only ones who escaped this attack without a scratch.

"I can hack into the weapon control system from here," Tom said, but then he frowned. "It's going to take a lot longer without the Aussie commanders authorization code though."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"What time is it?" asked Tom.

I looked at my watch. "Oh-One-Hundred."

"I don't know if I can get through this security system in time. Radio the others. Tell them that code is a priority. Other than that, I just need people to guard the door—stop enemies from getting in here."

"Okay," I said.

"Commander?" I called over the radio. "This is Swift."

"Swift, I copy. What's your position?"

"We've secured the control room. Tom can't turn off the automated launch sequence without the command code. He's going to try and hack it, but he thinks it will take a while."

"Rodger that," Mike said. "I'll see what I can do to help."

Huckleberry, Fang, Courtney and I went back outside and pulled the door shut behind us. We wouldn't be able to get back in, but neither could most of the soldiers on this base. We set up tables and chairs from nearby rooms as a barricade and got ready to hold position.

While we waited, I had another look at the plans we'd found in the filing cabinet.

"Jane," I whispered into my headset. The enemy wouldn't be able to hear, but I was worried about distracting her in the middle of a fight.

"Swift?" Jane replied after a moment.

"Where are you?" I asked. "I've found plans of the lower levels."

"We've just come off a stair with a big sign on the wall. It says BN2."

"That's in the north quadrant. Head south. The prisoners should be in BS3." At least the old lady's sacrifice would help with this.

#  The Life of a Soldier (Jane)

## Grace Stapleton

Jane was lost. She didn't know the layout of the base. She didn't know where the civilians were being kept. Bob had already run off. His mission was to plant the explosives that would blow this place to high heaven at exactly oh-three-thirty. For the last quarter of an hour she, George and Alice had been sneaking down corridors and searching rooms (leaving many of them with guards stuffed under desks and shoved into corners—hiding them as best they could without wasting too much time), but so far they hadn't found anybody worth saving.

Jane had thought about killing everybody they had come into contact with, but it would have been too noisy, so they snuck where they could and only killed those they had to. Even George had subdued a few soldiers. That was surprising Jane as she had expected him to hold back from violence, leaving all the work to Alice and herself.

After another five minutes of searching to no avail they decided to go down to the next floor. None of them were going to get out alive going at this rate Jane thought as they jogged down the metal staircase. They were only quarter of the way down when they saw the first smears of blood staining the steps, very fresh looking blood.

"Have your guns at the ready," Jane whispered to her companions. She took her own gun from her holster and flicked the safety off. Glancing over her shoulder first, to make sure the others had done as she said, she cautiously continued down the stairs. The smears of blood quickly turned into small puddles of blood every few steps or so and eventually into a consistent red coating. Jane had taken to breathing through her mouth to avoid the coppery smell which was clinging to the air. She could almost taste it now.

On the landing, lying on his back was a dead soldier. His Aussie army uniform was soaked in blood. George crouched next to him, looking over the man's wounded chest. "He was stabbed once, possibly twice, in the heart. The person knew what they were doing, although death wasn't instantaneous. He would have only lived another two minutes tops."

"Swift and the others went upstairs. There's only one person who could have stabbed him. If Bob is being this careless with everybody he comes across, it's possible they already know we're here," Alice said.

Bob was a loose cannon, Jane thought. She understood why, but she wished their lives didn't depend on his stealth abilities.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it," she said aloud. "Our top priority is finding the civilians. We just need to do it faster now."

"Jane?" came Swift's voice over the radio.

Jane hadn't been expecting that. She considered not replying. Maybe Swift would need help with the primary mission. If that was the case, these civilians would be doomed.

"Swift?" Jane said eventually.

"Where are you?" Swift asked. "I've found plans of the lower levels."

"We've just come off a stair with a big sign on the wall. It says BN2."

"That's in the north quadrant. Head south. The prisoners should be in BS3."

"Come on, people," Jane commanded. "I know where to go."

She stepped over the body and yanked open the second floor door. Bad move. She'd assumed the hall would be pretty much identical to the one they had been searching, and it almost was. The only difference? The two startled soldiers stationed in front of the door closest to herself.

They had to be the worst soldiers ever! One of their colleagues had been murdered not five meters away. They must have been able to hear him calling out for help as he bled to death. Maybe the door they were guarding was so important they wouldn't leave it for anything. Jane suspected it was the former as one of the soldiers already had a bullet in their head before the other reacted. He fled down the corridor and Alice shot him in the back.

They tried the door the men had been guarding and found that it led to a staircase going down. They descended to level B3 and headed south. Soon they came to a corridor that forked off theirs. There were guards up ahead. Alice and Jane took up position either side of the corridor mouth and began shooting.

George, meanwhile, opened a nearby door and ventured inside. Jane heard screams, but kept shooting at her targets. Once all four guards were dead, she hurried to the door George had disappeared into.

Hundreds of people were inside. Men, women and children. Civilians and enemy soldiers. Somebody was shooting at the crowd, people were dropping to the floor and screaming. George was nowhere to be seen, but it wasn't easy to pick out specific people in the chaos.

Not wanting to harm civilians, Jane swapped her gun for her combat knives and elbowed her way toward one of the soldiers responsible for the shooting. She punched him in the throat. His head whipped back and she twisted his arm, forcing him to drop his gun. Before he could recover, she slit his throat and moved off to her next target. The next few minutes were a blur—a crash of people and noise and killing. All together, there had only been five guards in the room. They were all dead now, but they weren't the only ones. Some of the civilians had tried to join in the fight and had either died or received serious injuries.

People threw themselves at Jane, pleading to be spared. She pushed them aside, looking for George. She found him patching up a nasty gut wound in an elderly man. He moved from that to a woman with a bullet hole in her shoulder. He wasn't going to be escorting anybody back. Jane and Alice conferred for a moment.

"The tunnel is three floors up," Jane said. "How are we going to get a hundred people through those corridors without attracting attention? Can we ferry them in small groups?"

"We don't have time," Alice murmured. "It's already two-thirty."

"Mad dash," Jane suggested.

Alice slipped off her backpack and unzipped the top. Jane's eyebrows shot up as she saw the stack of pistols and other small guns inside. "What...?"

"Swift mentioned the old lady and the possible civilian casualties back at the safe house. I stocked up on the off-chance..." Alice shrugged and trailed off. Then she pulled out the first gun.

"Who here knows how to use one of these?" she asked.

A few people raised their hands.

"I've got ten," she said. "That's how many groups we're going to break up into. Make sure you keep at least a hundred feet behind the group in front. I'll lead the way with group one. Jane here will lead group five. Every group takes one seriously wounded person. That way it's fair."

Alice glanced at Jane, who nodded. Sounded like a good idea.

"What about the dead," a middle-aged man asked.

"Sorry," Jane said. "We'll have to leave them. Form your groups now. You have two minutes, then group one leaves."

#  Dark Places (Bob)

## Oliver Kerr

Bob moved swiftly, now that he was alone. The tunnel was dark and cold. He passed doors and saw sleeping soldiers inside. The alarms he saw from time to time had not yet been set off. The Aussies didn't know their base had been infiltrated.

Sadness filled Bob's chest as he thought of Jay Bob, and how they would have enjoyed sneaking around like this, laying charges together. Thinking of Jay Bob made Bob itch to pull out his knife. They had practised with small blades so many times, throwing and stabbing dummies in exactly the right places. Knives were so much more elegant than guns, and quiet too.

Bob encountered little resistance as he descended into the belly of the beast. He imagined Jay Bob was there with him and it made him less scared. He was able to kill, silently, when he had to.

At some point, Swift called him on his radio.

"Bob, come in?"

"I'm here," he replied.

"I've found a map. Do you need directions?"

"I'm at the bottom of the south stair," he said. "I've been following the power lines. Can you see anything that would make a nice boom if I blew it up?"

Swift was silent for a moment, then she said, "Does fusion reactor sound good?"

"Yeah," Bob replied. "That will do fine."

He was in a long corridor on the lowest floor. Part way along the corridor, two guards stood outside a pair of thick metal doors. Bob wouldn't be able to get past without them noticing.

"You should see a lab up ahead on the left," Swift whispered in his ear.

"Mmm," Bob murmured. "Two guards."

"Access to the reactor is past that, through a security door at the end of the corridor."

"Rodger that," Bob murmured. "I'll call you back."

He crouched in the shadows, put away his knife and screwed the silencer onto his pistol. He'd never been a great shot. He wasn't sure he could kill two men before either of them shot him back, but this was his chance to find out.

He let out the breath he'd been holding, then stepped out of the shadows, lifted his gun and fired. To his shock, the first man slumped over, a hole in his neck. The second was so startled, he hesitated for a moment. That gave Bob the chance he needed to shoot the man in the head.

The door they had been guarding had reinforced glass windows. On the other side, Bob could see a lab. There were a couple of scientists working even at this time of night. Around the edged of the room were cages filled with very angry looking people. Bob thought he'd be angry too, if he'd been locked up in a cage and experimented on. Some of them looked pretty sick too.

Bob frowned. He didn't really have time to rescue them right now, but maybe later. He reached the end of the corridor and realized he'd have to go back. The reactor had a very fancy biometric scanner. He dragged both guards down, but neither of them had the authority he needed. That meant he'd need one of those scientists to get him in. Maybe if he could let those civilians out of their cages, they'd kill the scientists for him. He just didn't feel right about killing non-combatants.

He peered through the window again. The doors looked like that had electronic locks. He doubted cutting the power would work. Who would design cages that opened when the power went off? But perhaps someone could send an override?

"Tom?" he called over the radio. "I need a favour."

Tom was still trying to hack the command code, but he listened to Bob's request. "I'll see what I can do."

It took ten whole minutes, but then there was a click and all the cell doors unlocked at once. The angry civilians rushed out, attacking the horrified scientists. It was a bloody mess. Bob looked away, hoping there would be enough identity markers on the scientists for him to get through the rector door.

When he could no longer hear any screams, he used the guard's swipe card to open the lab door, then fled into a nearby room, in case the poor civilians thought they should kill him too—just to be safe.

Around fifteen minutes later, he dared to poke his head out into the corridor. That was when the alarms went off.

He rushed into the empty lab, grabbed one of the dead scientists and dragged him down to the reactor door. To Bob's relief, the door opened. He left the dead scientist and headed in to begin setting his charges.

#  Searching for Civilians (George)

## Matthew Palmer

Our small group had got even smaller now that we had split up from Swift and Huckleberry. After searching countless rooms on B1 and B2, we finally got a call from Swift. She directed us to BS3 where we finally located the civilians. There were quite a few Aussie soldiers who had to be taken out, but overall it was an extremely slick and stealthy operation. However we now faced the most difficult part, evacuating the civilians without alerting the entire base.

It had been easy to sneak in with just a few people, but sneaking out with hundreds was a different story. All of our weapons including my M6D sidearm were equipped with silencers. This gave us the freedom to shoot if we needed to, and was the main reason our stealth had been so successful. The guards outside the cells suffered the same fate as the rest we had encountered along the way.

The moment we opened the cell doors we were meet with some pretty gruesome sights. Guards had started shooting the prisoners. I couldn't understand why. We had been so quiet. The only thing I could conclude was that they had no use for these people any more.

I moved quickly, keeping low, and took out two of them before Jane came storming in with knives out, dispatching the other three like a whirlwind. Once the enemy soldiers were eliminated, I immediately set to work saving the civilians I could.

Everyone was dirty and grimy. Some were dead, others groaning and cradling gunshot wounds. I had to make fast, brutal decisions. If someone was too close to death, I'd pass them over for a person I had a better chance of saving.

Jane and Alice were talking to the crowd about how the evacuation was going to work. I didn't care. I needed to staunch the bleeding and keep people conscious. I was vaguely aware of people being sorted into groups. They began to file out, taking those I'd already treated with them. That was good. At least they weren't leaving them behind like my men on the beach.

At some point, an alarm went off, but I ignored it. Alice and Jane would keep their people alive, or they wouldn't. Hopefully the alarm was triggered by the main attack and the soldiers would be busy in some other part of the building.

Soon, I was down to my last patient and there were only twenty or thirty people left in the room. They were eerily quiet. A group stood by the door, supporting the old man with the gunshot wound to his stomach and waiting for their turn. More stood near me, watching as I worked, ready to take this kid once I was done.

I tied off the bandage around his shoulder and sat back, my vision blurred and my heart pounding. Then a gang of bloodied civilians burst into the room and began to attack us. I pulled my gun, but couldn't work out who to shoot. It was chaos. People were screaming. Then a frenzied man with black boils on his face charged straight for me. Without thinking, I pulled the trigger.

#  The Price of Conscience (Jane)

## Grace Stapleton

Jane had landed herself with eight children between the ages of three and fourteen, three women (mothers to a couple of the kids), two men with minor wounds and a baby. One of the men used to be a game hunter. She hoped he knew how to use the low calibre pistol Alice had given him. The other man carried Jane's own pistol. He had no experience at all, but Jane had a toddler on one hip and her second pistol in her free hand.

Fortunately, the kids did as they were told without question. They were scared out of their wits and none of them uttered a peep. Nothing unplanned happened, everybody made it to the secret passage in the estimated ten minutes. The men, Harrison and Frank she found out their names were, gave back the guns. Only the toddler posed a problem, one of the women took him from Jane at which point he started what was sure to be an epic tantrum. Jane forced herself to ignore him. There were still people back there, people who didn't have a clue how to fight. Jane had to keep the way clear and get as many out as she could.

She hurtled back down the passage, stopping only once when Alice's second group came through taking up all available space. Once again, Jane didn't run into anybody. It was quite unnerving. By now, the enemy surely knew their base had been infiltrated. She should have been dead. She wasn't complaining, but she did feel like she was being lured into a false pretence of security. She caught up with a group seven and escorted it all the way to the tunnel.

Somewhere along the way, an alarm went off, making Jane jump.

"Only a few more," Alice said. "It's three-oh-five. Twenty-five minutes left."

"We need to hurry them up," Jane said. "The alarm is going. The enemy is on full alert."

She descended into the basement for a third time, Alice at her side. This time, they heard gunfire and explosions from the floors above. The main attack was well underway.

Still, there was no opposition in the corridors. Then they reached the civilian prison and stopped in shock. The room was stained red and people were lying groaning on the floor, many with bullet holes in their heads.

Alice moaned, sounding like she might be sick. She ran forward into the room, spotting something Jane had missed in all the gore. George crouched in a corner near the back of the room, a gun resting on his knee. He had bowed his head and he was shaking.

"George?" Alice asked quietly.

"Stay back," George growled, lifting his gun to point at her.

Alice raised her hands. "What happened, George? Are you okay?"

He shook his head. "They just went crazy. I don't know what happened."

"Come on," she said gently. "Let's get you out of here."

BANG!

Something slammed into Jane's shoulder. She stumbled forward.

BANG!

Another bullet punctured her gut. She spun, time moving so slowly it seemed to take an eternity. Her killer stood at the other end of the hall, beside at least ten more enemy soldiers. Her vision blurred, but still she lifted her weapons, summoning the strength to pull the triggers one last time.

BANG.

This one took her in the throat. She tumbled backward and didn't even feel the impact as her head hit the floor. Her body was shutting down. She was almost dead. She had been as oblivious as the guards she had killed in the very same spot.

#  Escape (George)

## Matthew Palmer

Alice turned around as Jane got hit by another bullet. I grabbed my gun. Fortunately, I had already reloaded. Still, Alice was way ahead of me. She reached the door and hurled a pair of grenades down the corridor. Then sprang out, shooting with her pistols.

I struggled to stand up. The room was a mess of blood and dead people. People I had been trying so hard to save. I was tired. I grabbed my blood-soaked bag and forced my legs to move. Alice was down and two soldiers were walking toward her. They hadn't been expecting me. I shot one in the head and the other in the neck. She'd already killed the rest.

I checked Jane, but she was dead. Instead, I crept forward to check on Alice. She'd been hit in the leg and was bleeding badly. I crouched beside her. I didn't have any bandages left. Instead, I used my combat knife to rip the left leg of my trousers off. Then I bound her leg and grabbed my last vial of pain killer. I injected it into her arm.

"Go," Alice whispered. "Get out of here."

I shook my head. "Not without you."

Gritting my teeth at the pain, I hauled Alice up. I put my arm around her shoulder as we limped away from the cell.

"There are still civilians back there," she whispered. "Leave me. You have to save them."

"They're dead," I said.

"All of them?" she asked.

I nodded. "They went crazy. Like rabies, but worse."

Her leg was bleeding badly, even with my bandage. Her face had gone pale. If I didn't get her out of here quickly, she would probably die too.

She must of sensed my thoughts because she looked up at me with a mixture of fear pain and weariness. "I'm a goner, aren't I?"

"Not if I can help it," I said, trying to sound confident.

We heard footsteps. We hid in an empty room and waited, Alice sat down and leaned against the wall

"Jane's dead, isn't she?" Alice whispered.

I nodded.

She swallowed. Then she said, "We got a lot of people out. Jane would have been proud."

I nodded again. The footsteps passed our room. I gave it another minute before helping Alice back out into the corridor.

Every step was hard. Somewhere along the way, Alice blacked out. I'd been waiting for it to happen, but I hadn't been expecting how much heavier she would be when she stopped holding herself up. I realized I'd have to carry her.

I crouched, draped her body over one shoulder and then stood. My limbs shook. I gritted my teeth and kept going. I retraced our steps, hiding from enemy soldiers and crazy infected civilians along the way.

Finally, I found the grimy damp tunnel we'd come in through and headed out toward freedom. When I reached the ladder at the other end, one of the civilians helped me lift Alice out of the tunnel.

"The others?" the man asked. I just shook my head. He nodded and said, "You did what you could."

I set Alice down gently by a tree and unwound my makeshift bandage. The bullet had gone straight through, but it hadn't punctured the artery. The man who had been helping me gave me his shirt and I tore it into wide strips, then bound the wound properly. She was still breathing. Maybe she would live.

"We can't stay here," I said to the civilians. "Follow me."

We had to get back to the village and off the island before the nuke the commander had activated blew us all up.

#  Lone Wolf (Mike)

## Kieran Gullidge

"We've secured the control room," Swift had said. "Tom can't turn off the automated launch sequence without the command code. He's going to try and hack it, but he thinks it will take a while."

"Rodger that," Mike had replied. "I'll see what I can do to help."

Mike had decided not to lead the main assault. He was going in alone to find the command code and then kill the enemy leader. He had dressed completely in black and taken a black row boat so he would be nearly invisible. He was well equipped, with a M90 close assault shotgun, two combat knifes and a 07 designated marksman's rifle. He'd put silences on all his guns so he could use them if he had to.

The enemy base was on a man-made island in the middle of the lagoon. It had three watch towers with men shining spotlights out across the dark water in sweeping arcs. Mike had tracked their patterns and found a blind spot between two on the south side. Once he reached the shore, he slipped out of the boat and flicked the safety off his M90 close assault shotgun. There was a metal chain-link fence which he cut through silently and then he snuck across the central courtyard towards the lift in the middle which would take him down into the main complex.

Mike found it strange, how easy it had been to get this far. There were two men guarding the lift, but Mike pulled out two combat knives and snuck around them. He came up behind them and drove both knives into the back of their heads. They went down silently. Mike pressed the call button on the lift, but the doors didn't open straight away. Suddenly, there was a shout from one of the guards towers.

"Intruder!" the man yelled. He grabbed his sniper rifle and tried to shoot Mike, but Mike had already unslung his 07 designated marksman's rifle and used the scope to zoom in on the man's head. He squeezed the trigger. The 7.95 mm armour piercing round went straight through the man's head and out the other side.

The lift arrived. Mike quickly jumped inside and pushed the button that would take him down. The other side of the lift was peppered with bullets as the doors slid shut. Breathing heavily, Mike checked his weapons and reloaded. He'd already sent some of his people in via the secret passage to rescue the civilians. It was a secondary mission, but the commotion might serve as a distraction while he searched for the information he needed.

The lift came to a stop and the door slid open. Mike half-expected to see a squad of enemy soldiers waiting for him, but still, it was eerily quiet. He switched to his M90 close assault shotgun. It would be better if he met with resistance in the narrow tunnel.

He followed the tunnel for several hundred meters before emerging in a huge room. He found himself up on a catwalk. Below, Aussie soldiers had taken up a defensive position. To Mike's surprise, they weren't expecting an attack from above. Instead, they all had their guns trained on the doors leading to the lower levels. He could see a big four painted on one of the walls.

"Swift," he called over the radio. "Report."

"Commander," she said, sounding distracted. "Where are you, Sir? We need back up, asap!"

"I'm on a level five catwalk overlooking the level four central courtyard. Where are you?"

"Level three, outside the control room. We have crazy civilians charging us without weapons, and Sir? They won't stay dead."

"What?"

"Zombies, Sir. We need backup. We can't hold them off much longer."

"Rodger that," he said. "I'll send the Lieutenant and his squad down to relieve you. I'm going to get you those codes."

"Yes, Sir," she replied.

Mike kept to the shadows as he followed the catwalk around to the opposite side. From there, he could see a man who was clearly in command down in the level four courtyard. The enemy commander stood near the metal stairs leading up to the courtyard, a squad of soldiers keeping close to provide him protection. Mike wished he could just kill the man and be done with it, but that wouldn't get him the codes.

"Lieutenant Smith?" Mike called over the radio.

"Sir?"

"The time for stealth is over. I need you to attack, now."

"Rodger that, Sir."

"One more thing, Lieutenant Smith?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Send a squad to the roof. Secure those helicopters."

"I'll send Privates Bruce and Borris, Sir."

"Very good," Mike replied. He crouched in the shadows, watching the steel doors on level four creak and groan. Whatever these soldiers were so afraid of, it would be bursting through those doors any minute. If Mike was right, the commander would flee to a higher level at that point, and Mike would be ready for him. The squad on the roof would just be extra insurance.

A few minutes later, word came to the commander that the base was under attack. He hesitated only a moment, then sent most of his men up to defend the surface.

#  The Sharp Shooter (Silver)

## Charlotte James

I look down at my watch. It's two forty-one.

"Alright everyone, we have a go!" Lieutenant John Smith yells.

I glance at Jade. She looks alert. I scan the horizon for any signs of activity.

Nothing.

We're stationed along the bank of the lagoon, our arms resting on a fallen log. The others walk over to the jet skis. I brace my shooting arm. I look into the sight and line it up the soldier in the guard tower on the north east corner of the complex. I glance at Lieutenant Smith. He raises his hand. It hovers for a few seconds, then drops. I flick my eyes back to the sight. My finger tightens around the trigger.

I squeeze.

The enemy on the wall dies. I move my gun towards the next and fire, so fast he doesn't have time to think. Jade has done the same. Sentries are falling like flies. When we've killed everyone we can see, we look up from our sights. We're alone on the beach.

"They could have left us a jet ski," I grumble.

"There's more than one way into that base," Jade points out.

"True," I say. We sling our guns over our backs and slip along the coastline in the direction the stealth team went. Finding the secret entrance is easy. There are civilians milling around it and making a whole heap of noise. They barely notice turn up in their midst.

There, a couple of hundred meters up from the lake's edge, is a big black hole leading down into the earth. I look at Jade. We both smile.

#  Rampage (John)

## Joshua James

The jet ski roared to life beneath me. The scenery flew past as I accelerated. Behind me, my team followed, guns at the ready. I rounded the bend and the Aussie base came into view, an ugly hump of concrete and metal with watch towers framing it all. I neared the base, hoping that the sneak team had left some Aussie scum for me. The water around me erupted as their machine guns opened fire. I kept my head down and my gun up, firing toward the towers. Soon enough, the machine gun fire faded. Our snipers were doing their job well. Only one troop of enemy soldiers were left in the main courtyard by time I arrived. I raised my gun and let rip. The storm of bullets slew them like the rats they were.

My jet ski reared out of the water and onto the concrete embankment. I hurled myself off as my jet ski ploughed on, smashing through the chain link fence and exploding as it hit the wall on the other side of the courtyard. I picked myself up from the ground and rammed another clip into my gun. Around me, the others were landing and the few Aussies still able to move were falling back to the stairwells.

I calmly walked over to the north stairwell, opened the door and lobbed a grenade down after them. I smiled as I heard it go off. Other men in my team did the same with the south stair while more of our people secured the lift.

Once we'd broken into three teams, I opened the door to the north stair once more and led my men into the darkness. As I neared the bottom the hand rail erupted into a shower of sparks.

"Drop it you Kiwi dog!'' came the shout.

"That was a very bad choice of words,'' I replied as I pulled the pin from another grenade and threw it down toward him. I pressed myself against the wall as the thing exploded. There was no further reaction from the soldiers below.

I continued down, stepping into a dimly lit corridor. I could hear gunfire in the distance. I counted my ammo clips—only three left. I walked down the corridor, my gun at the ready.

#  The Chase (Mike)

## Kieran Gullidge

Aussie soldiers retreated from the fifth floor landing, shooting wildly and missing most of Mike's men. They were at the disadvantage and they knew it.

John and his men rained grenades and bullets on the fourth floor courtyard. The commander fled up the stair closest to Mike, surrounded by his body armoured guard.

Mike flew into action, shooting one of the guards in the face with his 12 gage shotgun, sending bits of flesh flying. He brought up his M90 close assault shotgun and killed two more before a bullet from one of the guards hit Mike square in the chest. He flew back ten meters, alive only because of his own bulletproof vest.

While he struggled to get up, the men raced past him, not even bothering to finish him off.

"Hey!" he yelled, charging after them.

They climbed a staircase to the sixth floor, then ran down a corridor. Some of the men sprayed bullets behind them, hoping to scare Mike off. Mike dove and rolled, coming up behind a crate. He unslung his 07 designated marksman's rifle. He rested the barrel of his rifle on the crate, dared a quick look, then took a wild shot. A scream told him he'd been lucky.

Still, not lucky enough. The men were almost at the roof exit.

#  A Pilot's Chance (Bruce)

## Joshua Gorman

"I need you and Borris to lead C-Squad," Lieutenant Smith said. "Capture the roof and hold it as long as possible. We can't let the enemy escape."

"Yes, Sir," I replied.

We got onto our jet skies, waiting for the signal. My jet ski was purple with a faded green skull on the back. I wondered who had painted it, back when the world wasn't so crazy. I bet he had lots of fun, charging around the lake in the sun. I doubted he would have imagined that one day, his jet ski would be used in a last ditch attempt to save New Zealand from destruction.

My hand was sweaty as it hovered over the accelerator. Lieutenant Smith dropped his hand and suddenly, we were off. Water skimmed up into my face. I was ready for a fight. The base sped toward us. As we approached land, I spotted the Aussie sniper towers. They were too busy shooting at the men in front to pay me much attention.

I was close now. The girls had taken out almost all of the Aussie sentries. I drifted into shore, leaped off my jet ski and rolled, coming up with my pistols out. C-Squad was sticking close by. They had to keep me and Borris alive.

Lieutenant Smith had already taken care of most of the soldiers in the main courtyard. Borris and I ran for the stairs, shooting at any enemies we could see.

The rooftop was barely guarded, so there was hardly anyone for me to shoot. Once the enemies were dead, C-Squad took up a defensive position while Borris ran straight for the anti-aircraft gun.

"Help me load this," he said.

"Not right now, Borris," I said. "I need to secure those helicopters."

I was barely half-way to the first helicopter when the door on the opposite side of the roof burst open. Men charged out, guns firing. Our men went down, but theirs did too.

I dropped to the ground, doing my best to crawl forward under fire. Unfortunately, the enemy got to the helicopter before me. Their commander jumped in the back while another man climbed up into the pilot's seat.

I reached the side of the helicopter, yanked the pilot's door open and grabbed the man's wrist. I fell backward, letting my weight drag him out of the helicopter. He fell on top of me, grabbed my neck and started to squeeze. I could feel his nails digging into my throat. I gasped for breath and smelt his repugnant breath. My vision was starting to blur.

I reached for the combat knife on my belt. I could almost reach the top. There! I grabbed the hilt and stabbed my attacker in the knee. He cried out, but still managed to keep pressure on my neck. I pulled the knife out and stabbed him again, this time in the back. The knife slipped between his ribs and he gasped, then his grip relaxed. He slumped forward, crushing me.

His blood was seeping through, staining my uniform. I shoved him off me, only to see the helicopter lift off.

"No!" I yelled.

Mike stood opposite me, shooting up at the helicopter with his assault rifle, but it wasn't doing any good. Then, suddenly, a huge boom shook us all to the core. Something crashed into the helicopter. It exploded, the flaming wreck spiralling down to crash into the lake.

I turned around slowly to see Borris grinning.

"Told you to help me load this thing," he said.

I groaned.

Mike was cursing and yelling something about codes. Right now, I didn't care. My throat was bruised and my head was throbbing. I had to sit down for a minute.

#  Plan B (Mike)

## Kieran Gullidge

"Swift," Mike yelled into the radio. "The commander is down. Repeat. The commander is down. Retreat. Get Tom out of there. We'll just have to blow this place up."

"Rodger that," Swift replied, her voice crackling as the signal began to break up.

Mike shook his head, annoyed that the commander was dead, but knowing it wasn't Borris' fault.

"Men," he shouted. "Get that other helicopter prepped and ready for take-off."

"Yes, Sir," Bruce replied groggily.

Borris hurried over to help his friend up.

"Lieutenant Smith," Mike called over the radio. "Report."

"Under attack," John replied. "Enemy won't stay down, Sir."

"Take off the heads," Swift interrupted. "That's the only way to kill them."

"Thank you!" John said.

"Bob?" Mike called. "What's your status?"

"Charges have been set," Bob replied. "Ready at your command."

"Very good," Mike said. "Can you trigger the explosives from the shore?"

"Yes, I can."

"Then get out of the base, now."

"I'm already on my way out," Bob said.

Mike ordered C-Squad into the second helicopter, then strapped himself in. "Take us to Dorris' house, Bruce. If this works, I'll have to disarm that nuke!"

#  Carnage (John)

## Joshua James

We charged down the metal stair in a mad charge, gunning down enemies as we went. By time we reached the bottom, the concrete floor was littered with bodies. That was when the doors broke and the flood came. Men and women, foaming at the mouth. Half of them weren't even wearing armour. They looked like civilians, but that didn't stop them from charging us. I didn't think twice. I just slammed another cartridge of ammo into my semi-automatic and began to shoot.

People were blown back, hit the floor, then moments later, stood up again. They had holes in their bodies, but there was hardly any blood. Their skin was pale. They were dead, but they were still moving and they looked hungry. I doubled my efforts, trying to beat them back.

Some of the zombies reached my men, biting and scratching. I saw my men start to fall. Then more terrifying, I saw them stand up again with that same mad, hungry look in their eyes.

"Lieutenant Smith," Mike called over the radio. "Report."

"Under attack," I replied. "Enemy won't stay down, Sir."

"Take off the heads," Swift cut in over the radio. "That's the only way to kill them."

"Thank you!" I said. I switched to my shotgun and blew the head off one of my own men who had turned to attack me. A woman charged at me, already missing an arm and half of her rib cage. I shot her head off too. This wasn't going to work. I didn't have time to reload.

I spotted a long bar of metal that one of the zombie soldiers had been carrying. I killed him and grabbed the bar. The rest was a blur as I spun and smashed through the mass of enemies. I didn't know if I was attacking zombie or human. If my men were smart, they'd stay out of my way.

By time I came back to my senses, I was on the third floor, only a few hundred meters from the control room. The hallway was littered with headless bodies and I could see Swift and Huckleberry crouched behind their makeshift barricade up ahead.

"Lieutenant Smith?" Swift called. "Is that you?"

I looked down at myself, dripping blood from my clothes and my metal bar. I don't know how much is mine and how much is from the people I've killed. They might have scratched me, but I don't feel like murdering Swift yet, so I'll assume I'm good. "It's me," I replied. "I'm not a zombie."

"I haven't heard a zombie talk, so I'm gonna take your word for it," she said. She peered over the top of her barricade. "The commander told me to get Tom out of here, but he won't leave."

"The base is infested with living dead," I snarled. "We have to blow this place, now!"

"I understand, Sir," Swift said. "Can you talk to him?"

I stormed over to the door and looked through the reinforced glass window. Tom was inside, his hands flying across the controls.

"Tom," I yelled through my radio. "Open this door. That's an order."

"I'm sorry, Sir," Tom replied. "I'm too close. I've almost hacked my way into their mainframe. From there I can transmit details of all their targets and troop movements to headquarters. This information will make the difference between us winning or losing the war."

"If you don't get out of this room, right now, you'll die," I said.

"Then so be it." Tom looked determined. "It's worth the chance."

"Set it to automatic then," I said.

"Not that easy, Sir."

"If someone has to stay behind, then it's going to be me," I said. "Get out of here, Tom. I'll stand watch and make sure that info you need gets transmitted."

"You won't know..."

"Don't insult me, private," I snapped. "I'm infected and can't leave this hell hole anyway. Now get out."

That seemed to shock him into action. He opened the door, showed me a couple of controls, then let Swift and Huckleberry lead him away. I shut the door behind me and waited. Either I'd do what I promised, or I'd die first. Somehow, I didn't mind as much as I thought I would.

#  Precious Minutes (Swift)

## Phoebe Kerr

Somehow, the lieutenant did it. He and Tom swapped places.

"Let's move," I yelled.

We raced down the corridor, my dogs at my heels. Tom was right behind me and then Huckleberry took up the rear. I knew from earlier radio chatter that we couldn't go up. There were too many zombies that way. Instead, we went down, headed for the underground passage.

We heard the footsteps and yells from nearby corridors and rooms as we ran. The Aussie soldiers were still fighting for their lives in pockets throughout the base. We turned a corner and saw a clutch of men at the other end. They looked surprised to see us, but then their expressions changed. They looked hungry.

Fortunately, they didn't bother with the guns slung over their shoulders. Instead, they just charged us. Huckleberry, Tom and I began to shoot. We aimed for the heads. Some of them went down, but others were just driven back. One broke away from the pack, headed straight for me. I was out of bullets. Huckleberry and Tom were caught up shooting the others. I was dead! Then, in a blur of movement, Fang leaped. His teeth sank into the zombie's neck and he ripped out the throat.

Then the next zombie lost his arm to Fang's mighty jaw. For a moment, I thought we'd win. Then one of the crazed soldiers remembered he had a gun. He lifted the rifle with shaking hands.

Crack!

Fang slumped to the floor. Blood spilled from the hole in his head. Tears slipped down my cheeks. I might have screamed. I couldn't hear myself. I could just feel the sadness and rage bubble up. I pulled my combat knife and hurled it at the man who had shot Fang. It went right into his eye and he collapsed. He didn't get up again.

That was the last of them. I fell to my knees and put my hand on Fang's back. "I will always love you," I said.

"At least he didn't have to suffer," said Huckleberry.

"We have to go," Tom said.

"I'm not leaving him," I cried.

"You take Tom," Huckleberry said. "I'll carry Fang."

With Fang around Huckleberry's shoulders, we ran on. We were almost at the tunnel when Huckleberry yelled. He'd fallen behind. Some zombies had caught our scent and attacked. I spun, seeing Huckleberry fall. A zombie had bitten his leg.

"No!" I screamed.

"Run," Huckleberry yelled. "I'll hold them off."

I shoved Tom behind me and yelled, "Go." Then I reloaded with my last round of ammo and began to shoot. When I checked again, Tom was gone.

We put up a good fight, Huckleberry and I. Courtney charged in at some point and I didn't even try to stop her. We took down most of them, before a zombie broke Courtney's neck and another one shot Huckleberry in the head.

"Huckleberry!" I screamed. "Courtney."

The zombie who had remembered his gun turned toward me. I felt something like a punch in my gut and I flew backward. My head smashed into the concrete wall. I slid down. My vision blurred. The last thing I saw was a single zombie stalking toward me. He looked awfully like Huckleberry.

#  Accidental Rescue (Silver)

## Charlotte James

"Evacuate the base," Commander Mike calls over the radio. "I repeat, evacuate the base."

I've only just gotten into the tunnel. I can hear fighting ahead. I don't want to miss out on the action, but I also don't want to get blown up.

"Just a bit further," Jade says. "We have a couple of minutes. Let's just shoot some bad guys and then leave."

"Okay," I agree.

We turn the corner to see pale, broken-looking solders, full of bullet holes but still walking. Not what I was expecting.

"Zombies!" I scream.

Jade's not worried. She starts shooting. Head shots for each one. They drop like flies. I see Swift, slumped against the wall and Huckleberry stalking toward her. He doesn't look friendly. I shoot him in the head.

The zombies are dead, and we need to go.

"Come on!" Jade says, pulling me away.

"We should grab Swift," I say.

"But what if she's a zombie?"

"Then we'll kill her."

Jade groans, but lets go of my arm. Together, we haul Swift's unconscious body down the hall toward the exit. Tom's there. He helps us lift her out of the hole.

I figure, if Swift is a zombie, I get to shoot her in the head, and if she isn't, then she'll be so angry that I saved her life. She'll never forgive me, which suits me just fine. Win, win, right?

#  Never Meant to be a Hero (Bob)

## Oliver Kerr

"Bob?" Mike called. "What's your status?"

"Charges have been set," Bob replied as he walked along the corridor, the lights flickering in an unsettling way. "Ready at your command."

"Very good," Mike said. "Can you trigger the explosives from the shore?"

"Yes, I can."

"Then get out of the base, now."

"I'm already on my way out," Bob said. The problem was, he didn't have a map and he couldn't remember which way he'd come. There were heaps of dead bodies lying around, mostly headless. He shuddered and kept moving.

A stair. Should he go up? He was pretty sure he'd gone down a whole lot of stairs on his way in, so up had to be right. Bob climbed and climbed, his heart thudding in his chest. What if the commanded called for him to trigger the explosives before he got out? Bob really didn't want to die.

The more he thought about that, the faster he ran. He reached a landing with a big three painted on the wall. Wait, wasn't this where Swift and Tom had found the control room?

Oh no! Bob thought. He'd missed the exit. He would have to go back down. He heard something growl and looked up. Men were coming down the stairs from above. Unfortunately, there was also something crawling up the stair from one of the lower floors. Bob could see the creatures bloody, black-haired head. With nowhere else to go, Bob fled down the third corridor, leaping over headless bodies as he went.

Halfway down the corridor, he saw a heavy steel door with a reinforced glass window. Bob paused, seeing Lieutenant Smith inside.

"Sir?" Bob called over his radio. "Lieutenant Smith? You've gotta get out of there. This place is about to blow."

"I'm aware of that, Private," Lieutenant Smith said. He turned to look through the door window. His skin was pale and his eyes bloodshot. His veins stood out on his forehead.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"No, Private, I am not alright. I am about to die. Get out of here, before you join me."

"But, Sir..." Bob protested.

Something in the room distracted the lieutenant. He pounced on the controls. Bob glanced behind him. The enemy had reached his floor. They were coming for him.

I'm not meant to be a hero, Bob thought. He tried the door handle. Of course, the door was locked.

"I'm in," the lieutenant said, but he didn't seem to be talking to Bob. "I can't stop the launch. No... we don't have time. Fifty-nine seconds. Change the destination. That's it! Now, where shall we send these missiles? Hmm, Sydney? Melbourne?"

"Sir!" Bob yelled. "No. Just put it in the ocean."

"Why waste this opportunity?" Lieutenant Smith yelled.

"Millions of innocent people will die."

"I don't care."

Something crashed into Bob, sending him flying sideways. He crashed into the floor, a fully armoured zombie soldier on top of him. The man sank his teeth into Bob's arm.

Why did it have to be zombies? Bob thought, trying to hold the man off as he reached for the trigger in his shirt pocket. Oh well, I guess I'll get to see Jay Bob sooner than I thought.

He flicked the safety off and then pressed the big red button.

#  Epilogue (Bruce)

## Joshua Gorman

The helicopter touched down outside Dorris' house. Mike leaped out and raced inside. Bruce and Borris took their time, making sure all the systems had been properly shut down. They were on their way inside when they heard the 'boom'. The ground shook and there was a flash in the sky. Then nothing more. They were both still alive.

Borris shrugged and walked inside. Bruce followed him.

"Cluck Cluck," Bruce exclaimed, seeing his pet chicken in the lounge. He chased the chicken around the room, trying to catch it to give it a hug. He didn't win.

"Coffee, Bruce?" Dorris said from the hall.

"Oh right, yes please," Bruce said, giving up on trying to catch Cluck Cluck.

Borris was already in the secret room, loading up multi player Halo. Bruce took a seat next to him and grabbed the controls. As they played, Cluck Cluck wandered in and decided to perch on Bruce's shoulder.

At some point, Mike returned. Bruce could hear him talking with Dorris in the hallway.

"The nuke has been disabled," he said. "The enemy base has been destroyed, but I just got a report from our medic. One missile was fired before the explosion."

Bruce pressed pause.

"Hey!" Borris protested.

"Did it hit New Zealand?" Bruce asked.

Mike shook his head. "No. Someone changed the destination."

"So where did it go?"

"Looks like it was targeting Melbourne, but the explosion threw it off course. Radar shows us that it crashed in ocean off Port Phillip."

"So it's fine?" Bruce asked.

"Well, I don't know if the zombie virus can affect fish or wash ashore somehow..."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Bruce repeated. "You want a go at Halo?"

Mike nodded. "Well, we have to wait for further orders anyway, so why not?"

The End

###

Thank you for reading this anthology. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave a review at your favourite retailer.

Thanks!

Beaulah Pragg - Editor

#  About the Editors:

### Beaulah Pragg

Beaulah works for the library learning centre, as well as teaching creative writing and independent publishing. She is a founding member of the Christchurch Writers' Guild, a free and accessible space for new writers to find encouragement and support.

You can find out more or contact her through her website: www.beaulahpragg.com

#  Other titles by Beaulah Pragg:

Chronicles of Tyria: The Silver Hawk

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