Base Read Free

held her poker. ‘You got the right idea. Pulverise the brain.’
    Behind him, two other men raced up the stairs, twisting and turning, their rifles cocked in front of them as they scoped out Mrs Nichols’ apartment opposite.
    â€˜Three healthy women,’ the captain said to his men with a wide smile.
    â€˜What a find,’ one of them said, his gaze moving over them as if assessing his catch.
    â€˜What a relief,’ said the other. ‘Live women. Yes!’ He punched the air.
    For whom? Ruth thought. She stared at the captain. His shoulders were as wide as her doorway, but it wasn’t his raw-honed build that intimidated her, it was his face. He looked like it’d been hewn from stone and that kind of hardness took years to achieve. She knew. She’d seen it in the experienced doctors, the ones who’d worked too long in accident and emergency. High cheekbones hollowed out his face. His winged black eyebrows and sensuous mouth brought some relief but he looked like he lived on adrenaline and coffee. She supposed he could be called handsome if one fancied the footy-player type with his black, razor-cut hair and broken nose.
    â€˜You girls been bitten?’ the captain asked.
    â€˜No,’ Ruth said.
    â€˜Good. My men will escort you across the road into the base,’ he said.
    â€˜We’re not going,’ Ruth said.
    â€˜You’ll be safe with us,’ the captain said. ‘Pack some clothes now. This street’s coming alive with braindeads. You want to get eaten?’
    Lea jumped. ‘Maybe we should, Ruth. It’ll be safe there. Can I get my computer and equipment? I’m an immunologist. I was working on a cure at my lab.’
    He nodded. ‘Just the computer. We’ll come back for the rest in the daylight. Gets worse when it’s dark.’
    â€˜Lea. Don’t go,’ Ruth ordered her friend. She turned back to the captain. ‘We’re taking my car down to Balmoral. I’ve got a boat. We’ll be safe on the water. Tell your men to remove the road block and we’ll be on our way.’
    â€˜There’s a plague of braindeads there. Everyone had that idea and then they got bit. Vassar. Armstrong. Help the women carry what they need.’ The captain motioned them with his rifle. ‘Come on.’
    Was he lying? Ruth hadn’t left the apartment for two months, not with Mrs Nichols guarding the door. With all communications down several months ago, she couldn’t tell how bad things were at Balmoral Beach. The only indication was the braindeads that walked the street below her apartment had multiplied. Anyway, it wasn’t easy to argue with a man holding a gun, but she turned her back on him, walked into the lounge room, slipping her boat keys into her jean’s pocket then picked up her duffle bag, which held her medical supplies and other essentials.
    â€˜Here, I’ll carry it for you,’ the captain said, holding out his hand for her bag.
    â€˜I’ll manage.’ Ruth held the duffle bag to her chest. She could feel his eyes devouring her as she followed Lea, Sue and the two men down the stairs. She hadn’t missed the men’s relief at finding women alive.
    Once downstairs the captain marched them to another truck following the garbage truck. Ruth glanced further up the street. She froze. Although concrete barriers blocked all the side roads as far as she could see, braindeads pressed against them groaning, arms stretched out. The remaining braindeads on Middle Head Road walked towards them. Their uber designer gear contrasted against their rotting flesh making them grotesque parodies of their former selves.
    â€˜Quick. It’s not safe,’ a blond-haired sailor ushered them towards a truck.
    Ruth looked behind her. Bang. The captain was already firing on the approaching contaminated. The street swarmed with them. Her stomach turned. Two months trapped inside by Mrs Nichols and