The Genesis Plague (2010)

colonel, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Crawford was now hammer-swinging his mangled hand at his walkie-talkie, trying to smash it. ‘Meat! Stop him!’
    Meat dashed over to the colonel and grabbed the thrashing arm with both hands. ‘Give it up, Crawford!’
    ‘Fuck you!’ the colonel seethed, grimacing from the pain.
    Cranking the arm down, Meat dropped his knees on to it, pinning it hopelessly to the ground.
    Jason jumped down off the ladder and came up behind Meat.
    Crawford’s entire body quaked from the adrenaline coursing through his system. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing!’ he ranted madly. ‘Don’t let them win! It’s them or us! Don’t you see?!’
    ‘Yeah, yeah …’ Meat said, snatching the blood-covered walkie-talkie from Crawford’s belt. ‘I’ll take this, thanks.’ He tossed it to Jason.
    Crawford spat in Meat’s face. ‘You’re a disgrace!’
    Using his sleeve to wipe the saliva from his cheek, Meat replied sarcastically, ‘And aren’t you just sweet as a cupcake?’
    ‘Take his grenades too,’ Jason said.
    Meat plucked the three grenades from Crawford’s flak jacket and clipped them to his own belt.
    Meanwhile, Jason went over to retrieve Crawford’s fumbled Bowie knife, which had landed within inches of the advancing wall of vermin. Crouching to grab the knife, he stared at the mind-boggling infestation - a sea of beady eyes filled with unnatural bloodlust. He was certain that plague DNA alone couldn’t account for the rats’ wild behaviour. What had Stokes been feeding them? He stood and paced over to Crawford.
    ‘You’re responsible for quite a few deaths today, Crawford,’ Jason said. ‘Mostly good men who believed in you … trusted you. That’s a lot of blood on your hands. As far as I see it, it’s high time for you to pay for what you’ve done.’ He dropped the knife on to Crawford’s chest. ‘You can keep that, tough guy. See how well you do against them.’ He motioned to the rats. ‘ Capeesh ?’
    Crawford’s jaw jutted out, his eyes boiling with rage and defeat.
    ‘Come on, Jason. Let’s get outta here,’ Meat said, motioning to the entry tunnel.
    ‘Just a sec,’ Jason said. He unclipped the light from Crawford’s M-16 and set it on the ground to illuminate the spot.
    ‘Wh— … what are you doing?’ Crawford demanded.
    Slowly backing away, Jason grinned while holding up the sputtering walkie-talkie. With each step, the ultrasonic barrier retreated from Crawford and the hungry rats encroached a few inches more into the circular void - countless hungry eyes glinting red in the light.
    The colonel tried desperately to grip the Bowie knife with only the limited function of a thumb and a pinkie. The blade slid off his chest and landed just out of reach. ‘ Aaaaaaah! ‘ He propped himself up on his good elbow, and tried to drag his crippled body away from the rats. That didn’t work either.
    ‘Hazo!’ Jason called out.
    ‘Yes, Jason. I’m still here,’ came the Kurd’s weak reply from high up on the platform.
    ‘Can you see this?’ He glanced up at the platform and saw Hazo’s head pop into view.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘This is for you, buddy. Godspeed, my friend.’ Jason took another step back. The rats spilled over Crawford’s paralysed legs and began feeding.
    Crawford screamed bloody murder. ‘Damn you, Yaeger!’
    Holding the flashlight to his watch, Meat reported, ‘We only have twelve minutes left.’ But he could tell that Jason was determined to make the colonel suffer.
    Jason paused for a long moment to let Crawford wallow in terror. Then he took another step backwards. The rats scurried up the colonel’s thighs and genitals, clawing viciously, gnashing and tearing away flesh in chunks. Crawford couldn’t yet feel the pain, but the sheer horror that showed in his eyes consumed the last ounce of his bravado.
    Jason counted slowly to ten. Another step backwards brought the rats over the colonel’s chest. They chewed wildly at his flak jacket, digging for flesh. When they attacked the mangled arm still trapped under his torso, the ungodly pain finally registered. Shrieking in agony, Crawford swatted madly at them with his other arm, but the effort was futile.
    After another ten-count, Jason took a further step back.
    Now the rats fought for the tender flesh of the colonel’s neck, ears and face. Crawford’s thrashing arm, thick with clinging rats, was now useless. When he screamed one last time, a rat buried