the aberration

chapter sixteen

Koyle hopped lightly up the steps. At the top, Gibbsy glanced back to see who it was. Koyle then joined him at the edge, peering through the darkness at the group below as they shuffled through the open gate.

'How many of them made it back?' Koyle asked.

'About half a dozen of them,' Gibbsy replied. 'Looks like all of 'em. Better than the last lost, at least. How many are we now? Thirteen, fourteen?'

Koyle shrugged. The answer was twelve.

'Do you believe what they've been saying about the rabbit guy?' he asked. 'The prisoners have been comin' out with some really weird stuff.'

Gibbsy scanned the murky, tree-fudged horizon. 'I reckon if he was out there, he got blown up with the rest of 'em. I mean, it stands to reason: Marcus' lot just got back in one piece, right?'

The two of the looked on in thoughtful silence. Then Koyle said:

'You know what this means if we really did get 'em all in that building?' He grinned. 'We get to find out way out of this place! No more being stuck here. No more waiting hopelessly around!'

A look of longing passed over the other soldier's face. 'Home,' he said. 'Part of another world now, feels like.'

'Don't get sentimental on me, Gibbs,' said Koyle.

Gibbsy turned to Koyle, whose grin he reflected. 'Yeah, but really going home!' he said. 'That, my friend, would be--'

Something exploded through his left temple in a slick ribbon. Gibbsy's grin froze, then faltered as dark blood trickled from the hole in his head. He crumpled to the floor.

Koyle took a reflexive step back, just as another bullet flew past him. He darted for the inner steps, narrowly avoiding several further shots.

'Man down!' he screamed.

The others had already heard the whistle and zip of the projectiles and gathered their firearms.

Koyle peered over the edge just in time to see a vanishing flash of pink.

Amelia Muse stepped back into the cell and Fragg latched the door shut behind her.

Simon, who had been sitting on the bench with his chin on his fists, rose to his feet. 'What happened?' he asked. 'What did they do to you? What did they say? Is Winnie alright?'

Amelia was still shaking. She took two small steps towards him. Then she shoved him against the wall. 'Why did you have to tell them about Beef?' she said. 'You almost got me killed!'

'What?' was Simon's response, his arms spread-eagled against the wall. He remained leaning against it while he said, 'Did he really kill someone? Do they still think we're involved?'

Amelia sighed, sat down and put her face in her hands. 'I don't know,' she mumbled. Then she dragged her hands over her features and pulled at her lower lip in thought. 'But they don't know any more than we do,' she said. 'They've just been here longer. We need to get out of this place. '

Simon pushed himself upright and opened his mouth to speak again, but paused on the brink of his next word.

Amelia looked up at him. 'What?' she demanded. 'You're doing that stupid face again.'

'Can't you hear it?'

The detective sighed and listened. She sat straighter as the unmistakeable sound of gunfire rumbled through the concrete walls.

Some unhappy language from the other side of the door informed them that Fragg had heard it too.

'Alex!' she called to one of the other soldiers, her footsteps resounding as she leapt down the corridor after the action. 'What's going on?'

The soldier called Alex paused at the stop of the steps and shouted down, loud enough for the prisoners to hear, 'It's the rabbit man! The rabbit man is here!'

Beef lingered only a second longer at the edge of the clearing and then pulled back, leaving the return fire to chew at the trees

Sam was only a few feet away, still taking shots at the soldiers on top of the wall, but he soon followed Beef in his retreat. As tempted as he was to charge ahead, such an act would instantly lead to his death--and he wanted to take down a few more soldiers first.

'Of all the costumes you could have chosen to wear,' he hissed, when Beef was at his side again, 'you had to pick the most obvious one of all, didn't you?'

'Yes,' Beef replied. 'Make the most of it.'

Beef circled the edge again, noticeable but with the trees providing some cover.

The soldiers on the ground were taking position behind the heavy, half-closed gates, and Beef's reappearance immediately drew fire.

Following his advice, Sam edged around the clearing in the opposite direction. He took a moment to pick his best shot, watching as the foremost soldier at the gate seemed to jerk backwards--Beef had got him in the neck.

The soldiers on the wall fired sustained rounds in Beef's direction; Sam decided to give him some cover and once again made the elevated soldiers his target, stepping into view for a clear shot.

As Beef withdrew, the concentration of fire shifted to the marine's position. Beef ducked, fell back and took the opportunity to insert a fresh clip into his rifle. It was his last one.

Glancing at each other through the trees, Sam pointed left with the slightest movement. Beef nodded; the marine continued to circle and Beef crept to the edge again.

Torchlight swept the trees, but the firing had stopped. The soldiers on the top of the wall had quickly learned to stay low, making them difficult targets. Beef's gaze dropped back to the gate where they appeared to be reorganising. He watched and waited--his ammunition was limited and he wanted to be sure of their plan.

They had retreated back behind the still half-open gates, but Beef still saw flashes of red glowing like blood in the shifting torchlight. Then something was rolled out into the open, clattering to a stop in the middle of the clearing and exploding with a noise that smacked the silence--a grenade, followed by another, and another after that.

One rolled very close to where Sam stood several feet into the trees. He hastily kicked it back and it blew apart at the tree-line, smouldering the dead foliage. Smoky beams of light half-penetrated the clouds of dust, wavering as the soldiers began to move forward with speed. Some even, for some reason, cried out.

They were charging, Beef realised. Reckless. Stupid. Why would they do that? Though if they were anything like the zombie soldiers they'd sent to the marines' base, it would not matter. Beef had not yet figured out the reasons for the clearly weaker opponents, but he was fully expecting the zombies to re-emerge.

He allowed the shadows to absorb him and prepared to take the soldiers down.

Fragg hesitated. Her resolve to stay and guard the prisoners was crumbling under the desire to go out and fight with the others. Her fingers twitched with uncertainty.

Winnie and Simon were at the slats.

'We can stop this,' said Simon, thumping the metal door with his fist. Amelia paced in agitated circles behind him. 'We can sort this out!'

Fragg ignored them. Their voices were starting to fade to background noise against the sounds of battle. She heard the shouts of her fellow marines--she took two steps toward the stairwell.

'This dying is needless,' Winnie's voice piped up. 'But it can all end! Please, you must believe us! Just let me speak to him, before it's too late!'

Fragg swivelled, placing her face right up to Winnie's little window and causing the old woman to take a step back.

'Too late? Too late for who?' she demanded. 'For Master Beef? 'Cause you know he's made a huge mistake coming here--'

'Before it's too late for you,' Winnie said, sadly. 'He'll kill you all.'

Fragg's lips curled into a sneer. 'So you keep saying,' she said, glancing agitatedly at the stairwell again.

Simon hammered his fist a few more times. Come on! We can save your friends!'

'Shut it!' said Fragg.

'Move out of the way,' Amelia said suddenly. Sim turned--the detective's arms were folded and she looked annoyed.

'What?'

'Just do it.'

Simon stared at her, but moved. The detective then took two steps back and ran at the door, striking the metal with her foot. Then she did it again. The noise clattered down the corridor.

'Stop that!' shouted Fragg. She walked up to their slat; Amelia kicked the door again. Fragg then swiftly lifted the latch and pushed open the door, her rifle pointed. 'You're going to stop that,' she said.

'Let us out,' responded Amelia, locking glares with the soldier.

Fragg scoffed. 'You really think I'm listening to you? Sit down and shut up before I shove this gun right down your throat!'

'For God's sake,' said Simon. 'Take us outside and let us see him, that's all we're asking! There are enough of you to stop us from escaping, aren't there?'

Fragg looked critically at Simon and opened her mouth to rebuke him. But then she stopped, glancing once again at the stairwell. 'We could use you as hostages,' she said, mostly to herself. Her eyes glowed with malicious inspiration. 'And then if he tries anything...'

Simon nodded slowly, caught a little off guard by the satisfaction she seemed to get from the idea.

'No,' said Amelia, and stamped her fist into the soldier's face. Their earlier scuffle in the fort entrance had evidently been good practice for the detective, and Fragg reeled backwards, lifting her free hand to her nose. She recovered in a moment, however, and swiped at Amelia with the rifle butt, and, missing by an inch, she brought the rifle back to bear.

Simon, just in time, pushed the detective out of the way and knocked Davies' arm aside. The rifle left a staccato arc of bullet holes in the far wall and all three of them ended up on the floor.

The detective was the first to her feet. Fragg reached out to grab her and Amelia kicked her in the face on the way to retrieving her deerstalker. The soldier's second effort was foiled by Simon, who took hold of her belltop hat and used the chinstrap to pull her back down, allowing Amelia to race for the exit.

'Go, detective!' cried Winnie.

Fragg, who was a lot stronger than she looked, quickly overcame the attack, slipped free of the hat and knocked Simon's head against the wall to release her weapon of his grip. She wrapped an arm around his neck and dragged him out into the corridor.

'Detective!' she shrieked after the escaping prisoner, and brought the snout of the rifle under Simon's chin. 'One more step and your friend's brains go all over the walls! I mean it!'

Amelia stopped. She had reached the stairs. With one hand on the railing, she half-turned and looked back. The round, flickering fluorescent lights, positioned at regular intervals along the walls, exaggerated the long, eerie perspective of the corridor. Simon and Fragg at the other end, and Winnie from her open slat, watched her in silence.

Then Fragg said, 'Get back here and don't try anything funny and we can pretend this never happened. But you have to do it now or I will kill Mr Simon Hyde here. It really is as simple as that, detective.'

Amelia watched her. She probably meant it.

The detective turned back to the stairs, still gripping the rail and leaning forward in frozen action. She listened and could still hear the sounds of gunfire outside.

Simon could feel the rifle pushing hard against his throat. 'Detective...' he began.

Amelia turned again, looked at the pinpricked path of light reflected in his shades. 'I'm sorry, Simon,' she said to him. 'I have to do this.'

She launched herself up the stairs.

'Don't you dare!' screamed Fragg, aiming the rifle and firing haphazardly after her. Metal pinged off the railing and embedded itself in the concrete around the detective's feet and head.

Amelia heaved herself up and raced for the top.

Simon stared after her, a little stunned, but quickly recovered his senses, taking the chance to grab Fragg behind him and push back with his bodyweight, overcoming her enough to steer her sharply to the right and careen into the wall. He tore the rifle from her grasp and struck her with the butt of it, hard enough that she did not get back up.

He exhaled. He leant down and, with his spare hand, checked for her pulse: still breathing. She looked peaceful now, at least.

'Hey!' came Winnie's voice from behind him. 'Let me out!'

He went and lifted the latch, pulling the heavy door open and letting the old woman hobble out. She looked up at him.

'Thank you,' she said. 'But you should know that it's silly to wear sunglasses indoors.' She looked at Fragg's crumpled body. 'That detective is very brave, but very foolish.' She began shuffling towards the stairs. 'These people might need saving as much as we do, but if they see her they'll shoot her dead!'

'Right behind you,' he called after her. 'I just need to take care of this one.'

'She's more than taken care of, Mr Sunglasses; come on!'

Simon placed the rifle on the ground and took Fragg by the armpits, dragging her into one of the cells. He pulled the latch down securely, retrieved the rifle and then hurried after the old woman, who was shuffling away with surprising speed.

Beef fired into the chest of a soldier who got too close--the solider jerked, coughed up blood and fell.

They had begun to wade through the trees in search of their attackers, and, as the smoke from the grenades had thinned, Beef had seen that there could not have been more than half a dozen of them in the advance, with only a couple extra to be made out on top of the wall. In the dead vegetation they were forced to spread out, making it easier for Beef to move around them and take them out one by one.

His firing attracted the attention of another soldier, who shredded the wood of a tree just as Beef rolled out of the way. Beef fired again, but the rifle clicked empty. As the soldier attacked again, he ducked, lunged and slammed the butt of the rifle with ridiculous precision into the soldier's throat, crushing it.

He turned, hearing the retort of gunfire to what must have been a disturbance from Sam some distance away--turned and saw another soldier right behind him. Beef's first thought, seeing the paleness of the soldier's face, lit by the torchlight of an abandoned rifle, was that it was one of the zombies. His heart slammed against his ribs and he reacted instinctively, grabbing and twisting the pistol from the soldier's arm and jabbing back with an elbow.

The soldier reacted violently. As Beef let the pistol fall to the floor and parried the arc of a retaliatory fist, he found himself making the distractingly irrelevant observation that, unlike the other soldiers, this one had no plume in his hat. Then Beef hesitated for a fraction of a second more, suddenly noticing the soldier's expression: it was distorted grotesquely by anger; almost wild, but desperate--and jarringly human.

The soldier did not attempt to retrieve his weapon, instead lurching forward and grabbing the rifle to catch Beef off-balance, successfully wrestling him to the floor. The rifle tumbled to the grass and the soldier pinned both of Beef's arms at the wrists--a mistake, as Beef then headbutted him with the full hardness of his visor.

The soldier groaned, hands flying to his cracked nose. Beef did him the courtesy of punching him once, then twice more in the head until he rolled off and Beef could get to his feet again. Beef threw a kick with his heavy boot as the soldier tried to rise, but the sergeant, powered by his own furious resolve, kept trying anyway, his nose bloody and his hat askew. He offered Beef a look of pure hatred.

Beef lifted him from the ground and wrapped his arms tightly around the sergeant's neck, bringing him into a headlock. The sergeant struggled fiercely, but Beef's grip was too strong. The sergeant's face went red and his eyes bulged and watered. He kept on fighting; fighting for his marines, for his sanity, still not understanding why he was fighting at all.

His neck broke. He stopped struggling.

Beef let go and took a step back. Something about the encounter had felt a bit off, somehow--but the threat had been neutralised.

Renewed gunfire brought him back to his senses and he looked around. He glimpsed a flash of Sam several feet away, retreating further into the grey shapes of the trees.

He swooped to collect one of the discarded rifles, checked it was loaded and made several steps in the marine's direction.

'Hey!' cried a voice, drifting through the sounds of the battle. 'Hey, everybody!'

Beef stopped, turned and peered through the trees. The voice was coming from near the fort. He recognised the jacket and the deerstalker hat as those of the detective.

She ran out into the clearing waving her arms. One of the soldiers on the wall fired reflexively; bullets danced at Amelia's feet, causing her to shriek and stumble sideways. 'Don't shoot!' she yelled. 'You have to stop shooting!

'Beef!' she called, and began to rotate, her arms still up in the air. 'Master Beef! Can you hear me? You have to stop, Beef! You're making a mistake!'

Slowly, still staying out of sight, Beef crept back up to the edge of the clearing. He watched the detective as she stopped rotating, her chest heaving with effort.

The soldiers kept their weapons at bay. They were watching her too.

Beef very nearly acted on the impulse to exploit the distraction, aiming the rifle at a soldier standing in plain sight on the wall. But then Amelia spoke again:

'Beef, these people you're with--whatever they've told you, whatever reason they've given you...you have to stop this! These guys don't even know why they're here! Come out, Beef. We need to talk about this!'

'What? Don't listen to her!' yelped Sam, suddenly, his voice cracking with anguish. Beef looked again and could see him stepping out of his hiding place. The two soldiers he had just shaken off began to close in on him again, and he brought up his rifle, marching past them into the clearing. 'They killed Pete!' he cried. 'They killed everybody!'

The soldiers faltered as they approached him from behind, looking confused.

'Back off or I shoot!' Sam warned.

Beef turned back to the detective, poised in uncertainty. Then he saw the two soldiers on the wall aiming their weapons. He quickly stepped out into the open, his gun pointed at them in turn.

His sudden appearance caused everybody, including the detective, to take a step back.

'Beef--' said Amelia.

The rifle pointed at her. 'How can you be so sure that I'm the one making the mistake?' Beef demanded. 'I happened to be there when a couple of your soldier friends stormed into another fort just like this one, killed two marines and strolled off again like nothing had happened! How is it, detective, that they could do that after I'd riddled them with bullets?'

On the wall, Koyle hesitated. At first it was the shock of Beef's appearance that had stayed his trigger finger--but now his finger paused again and he listened as Beef's words penetrated the silence. He signalled to Marcus to keep him covered while he began to descend the steps.

Amelia raised an eyebrow. 'Are you sure--?'

Beef took a step closer and the detective was met with her own sceptical face looking back at her in his visor.

'Yes, detective,' he said. 'I'm sure.'

Sam and the two soldiers approaching him paused, joining the audience. Sam gripped his weapon more tightly than he ever had alternated between listening in and exchanging with the soldiers suspicious glances.

'I was also there,' Beef continued, his voice calm but clear enough to be heard, 'when they came back and blew up nearly everyone they didn't get the first time round.'

'That wasn't us!' Koyle interjected, reaching the last few steps.

'I saw the bomb roll in,' insisted Beef, raising his rifle.

'It wasn't us!' Koyle repeated. 'We were only there because we followed one of your marines after being attacked again--why am I even explaining myself to you? You've spent the last few hours killing off most of the people I know! Gibbsy...you shot him in the head! The people you're with aren't even marines!' He shook his head, trying to overcome the confusion. 'They're not...they weren't even human! We're marines and they stole our uniforms! Forced us to dress like this...started killing us when somehow they find out we're not wearing these fucking hats!

The soldier made a noise of disbelief, looking at Sam, at the detective, at his fellow soldiers, and then back at Beef. 'We never even got inside your fort,' he told him. 'Like you said, it blew up! Everything you say...' Koyle's hands were sweating, his finger dancing at the trigger. 'Everything that you say happnd...'

'It happened,' said Beef.

'It happened to us!' Koyle laughed suddenly, his face red and his eyes watering. 'This is too much. This is...you know, I don't even care anymore! I just want to get out of this place!' He lowered his weapon. 'Get out,' he muttered. 'Get far away!' Marcus and the others watched him, startled, as he stood there laughing or crying--they could not tell--into his sleeve.

The silence was disturbed. Everything made even less sense to everyone present. Beef hesitated, feeling it get more complicated than he'd wanted, but did not drop his weapon.

Amelia sighed, finding she was losing track of their exchange. 'Look around you, Master Beef,' she said, gesturing half-heartedly. 'These aren't people you can riddle with bullets.'

Beef said nothing. He had riddled them with bullets anyway--even when he'd seen how human they looked. They were a threat and they'd been neutralised accordingly, even though--because--nothing else about the situation had made sense to him.

'I think we need to end this,' came an elderly voice. Beef looked up, startled, as Winnie hobbled out into the open. 'Before anyone else gets hurt.'

Beef felt his arm fall to his side, the rifle gripped loosely. In the midst of it all, Winnie's appearance was something to which he did not know how to react.

She smiled. 'Hello, dear,' she said. 'Can't say they've been the politest bunch during my stay here, but I think they're probably telling the truth.'

Beef swayed fractionally back and forth. Suddenly he wanted a pint of cold beer.

Winnie sighed. 'How we arrived at this mess, I can only imagine. But I reckon we should stop shooting at each other and try some more talking instead. Don't you think? And maybe, you know,' she shot a peevish glare at the soldiers, 'try listening. I hear it helps like magic.'

Sam stared at the old woman. He didn't want to listen to anything these soldiers had to say--and from their looks, they seemed to be thinking the same of him. With all the bodies lying mutilated around them--all the bodies blown up and left behind--the suggestion seemed absurd.

Beef let the rifle drop; his head was angled down.

Amelia watched him, frowning. She looked as if she were still waiting for the missing piece to click into place. Dawn had come from nowhere; the sky was phasing white again and she looked up at it.

'What now,' she whispered.

Simon had been holding back, waiting to gauge the situation. Now that it had taken a quieter turn, he stepped out with Fragg's rifle still in his hands and began to speak. 'This whole thing has obviously been orchestrated,' he announced, 'starting with the move to bring us here in the first place.' Everybody turned to face him. He continued, 'there must be a third party around here somewhere. The fat men in tweed have proved to be a common element in our stories, so I suggest we--'

Beef had recognised the plaited ponytail and leather coat immediately, snapped out of his daze and launched himself at Simon, tackling him to the ground. Simon spluttered as Beef used Fragg's rifle to choke him.

'What are you doing?' Amelia cried out, rushing over to his side. 'Beef, are you out of your mind? Hey--'

Beef pushed her aside.

'Speaking of those fat men in tweed,' he growled, pressing down on the rifle, 'the day I met them started out with you following me around a bookstore. Remember that?' He pressed harder. 'Who are you and why are you here?'

Simon tried in vain to push the rifle off him.

'Beef, come on; he's just another detective! He was on the case like me--'

'Answer my question!'

'My name,' wheezed Simon, 'is Simon Hyde. Yes, I was following you around! I saw you and the tramp with the floating woman. I got curious--'

'You got curious?'

Simon cried out as the pressure on his ribs redoubled. 'Yes! Aaargh--stop!'

Beef threw the rifle aside, grabbed two fistfuls of his leather coat and slammed him against the concrete wall of the fort.

The detective considered running to his aid again, but thought better of it. Winnie, Sam and the soldiers all remained silently stunned.

Simon winced, then regained his breath. 'Yes, I got curious. Is that so hard to believe?' he gasped. 'Why exactly is it that you went after that porcelain woman, Master Beef?'

Beef brought his visor up close to the other man's face. Each saw themselves reflected in the other. Then Beef reached out to pull off his shades and Simon Hyde struggled desperately. They came away uneasily, accompanied by a howl and the sound of tearing.

Beef cocked his head to the side. Amelia Muse craned her neck to see.

On the bridge of his nose, Simon's skin was now red raw where the shades had very securely been stuck in place. Two brown eyes glared back at Beef, blinking, unused to the higher intensity of light. The left eye, Beef saw, suffered a rather severe inward squint.

Simon glared at him, panting. 'Your turn,' he said.

Beef dropped him and stepped back. He looked at the others: everyone else was stood there, staring at him. Between them still, lying on the ground, were the bodies of the people he'd just killed.

He turned and walked away.

'Beef!' Sam shouted after him, alarmed. 'Hey, Beef! Hold on a minute!'

Winnie went over to Sam and took him gently by the arm. 'Leave him be, dear,' she said. 'Let's go inside.' She watched Beef go. 'I'll get some tea brewing.'