In The End Box Set | Books 1-3 Stevens, GJ (story books to read TXT) 📖

Our distance built; we could go so much quicker forward. I shouted for McCole but we didn't slow.

I shouted again and the engine quietened as we idled, but the new convoy leader raced out of sight around a corner.

I watched as the lonely Defender reversed, knowing the driver's gaze would have been on us and not able to see the closing gap ahead, not able to hear the chatter of feet against the tarmac.

I could. I saw as they caught up, saw the wheel turn as the driver looked around at the pair of unearthly creatures already on the bonnet. I heard and saw the crack of the glass, felt the four by four swing to the side, crashing hard into the wall buried deep in the bush.

I watched as the wheels slipped and slid, smoke pouring from the tyres as his foot held fast, his only chance to break down the wall.

I knew McCole would have turned in his seat, watching with me as the engine noise died; the wheels stopping their squeal, leaving only the smoke.

No one said a word. Each of us peered forward.

Something flew from the smoke, its arms and legs flailing, but came to a stop as he hit the floor head first, the helmet flying from the smoke a moment after.

We watched as the smoke slowly cleared, alarm niggling in the back of my head. It was time to move and save ourselves; there was no hope for our man and all we were doing was lessening the odds of our own survival.

No one voiced those words until the smoke cleared; until a creature pounced onto the soldier's body and ripped apart clothes, rending flesh in great sprays of blood. It could only mean one thing; he was still alive but wouldn't be for long.

I shouted to McCole for a gun, my words spraying across the top of the Land Rover.

He did as I asked, cocking the pistol and passing it up, butt first.

I didn't note what I had in my hand, but it already felt so familiar. Drama from the last few days flashed through my head. I'd been through so much already. How much more would I need to take?

A warm hand hugged at my thigh with a gentle, reassuring motion and I looked down to see Cassie peering up.

Her face was as wet as mine, eyes wide with terror, but still she had taken the time to connect. I would not let her down.

I turned back to see the smoke had cleared and pushed out the gun. I never fired, instead using all my energy to scream the command as loud as I could.

“MOVE!”

70

We surged forward and I took my cue, dropping into the rear compartment, watching wide-eyed out of the dusty rear windows as the pack of monsters continued to gain.

It wasn't long until the distance between us stopped shrinking and eventually we had the upper hand. I let my breath even out, let myself feel the ache as I loosened the grip on the handgun.

Still, the creatures continued their onward chase, but they were no match for the horses under the bonnet.

A warm touch found my arm and I turned to the dim light and saw Cassie's wide smile. I couldn't help but dive into her open arms.

Clinging together for what seemed like an age, I felt the short bristles on my cheek warming against her soft skin. For a moment I forgot the drone of the engine, my heart racing for a whole other reason, only pulling apart as two deep voices swore from the front.

Sitting back on the hard bench, my left hand holding her right, we turned to the windscreen and saw the wreckage of the Land Rover which had raced off, its nose folded around the stub of a tree, leaving the trunk and the sprawling bare branches blocking the road.

Together we repeated their expletives, before twisting back around to stare through the rear windows and into the distance, hoping once we'd left their sight and turning many a corner, the creatures would have slowed and dispersed to worry someone less fortunate.

I turned as we slowed, looking to the driver and McCole, waiting for their plan, but they were just repeating our gestures to each other.

“Can we push it out of the way?” I said.

The driver and McCole swapped looks, each nodding as the Land Rover continued to slow.

Cassie and I made room while McCole scrabbled into the back compartment and stood up through the roof to aim his rifle the way we'd just come.

I scrambled into the front seat, watching the steam rise from the crashed Land Rover as we came level, fingers of wood scratched and snapped, protesting at our advance.

As the front grill bit down hard into the protruding branches, the glass in the headlights smashing, I looked across and saw the other driver’s head lolling forward and slumped over the deflated white airbag.

At first I wasn't sure if he was dead but as his head moved, fear spiked he'd come alive again. As our Land Rover continued to make slow progress, I pulled open the door and jumped to the road, ignoring Cassie's worried calls.

With the gun in my right hand pointed through the window, I gripped the door handle and pulled.

His face turned and I knew I had to make my choice. His jaw hung slack and wide; with no blood he looked like he'd been punched in the face.

I pushed the gun into my jacket pocket, grateful he didn't lunge as I gripped him around the waist and helped him to the ground.

The scrape and crunch of wood had stopped, but the engine's roar had not. The mass of branches were too much for the Rover without a running start.