The Fungus

They were standing in a shed at a make-shift army camp on the outskirts of Wolverhampton. The center of attention was a large, six-wheeled army truck. It stood very high off the ground on its huge balloon tires, its angular front similar to that of a landing craft. It was amphibious and its built-in propulsion units could, Slocock knew, push it through still water at four to five knots. Slocock had driven one before — there were not many vehicles in the British army he hadn’t driven — but he’d never seen a Stalwart quite like this one.

Its rear freight section had been completely encased in what appeared to be half-inch armor and supported a gun mount. There was a smaller gun mount on the roof of the driver’s cabin. But the internal modifications were even more surprising, as Slocock saw when their temporary host at the camp, Major Buxton, showed them inside the back compartment.

To get in you had to go through a small airlock, just big enough for one person at a time. “When this is operating your anti-contamination suit will be sprayed with a powerful disinfectant as you come through,” he explained. “Make sure you wash all the stuff off before you proceed into the living section. I’m told it’s highly toxic.

“Sorry it’s a bit cramped in here but we had to cram a lot of extra gear into a limited space. Those bulges running under the two bunks are the spare fuel tanks. Fifty gallons in each.”

“Only two bunks,” said Wilson, “but there are three of us.”

“The third person will have to sleep in the driver’s cabin. But I doubt if it would be wise for all three of you to sleep at the same time.”

Slocock automatically swung his kit onto one of the bunks. There was a clink of bottles as the bag landed. Buxton raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Slocock had been breathing whiskey fumes on everyone since his arrival. During the chopper ride he’d got through a third of a bottle. It didn’t do much for his stomach or his throbbing head but at least it dulled the nagging pains in his arms and legs.

Most of the space was taken up by oxygen cylinders. “Your air here and in the driver’s cabin will be recycled, just as it is in a small submarine. There are two chemical carbon dioxide scrubbers that will extract CO₂ from the air. You’ll need to bleed oxygen from the cylinders at regular intervals to maintain the air pressure.” Buxton indicated a pressure gauge on one of the walls.

None of them mentioned what would happen when the oxygen finally ran out. Then they’d have to breathe the outside air, and the only thing between them and fungal infection would be the unproven Megacnne drug.

The compartment also contained a barely concealed chemical toilet. There were no cooking facilities, but plenty of concentrated and canned foods. And a large tank of drinking water.

Next to three bulky anti-contamination suits that hung from the roof was a row of weapons. Four 7.62mm FNLI rifles, two Sterling L2A3 submachine guns, and two Smith & Wesson .38 revolvers.

“We’re packing a lot of firepower,” Slocock observed. “All these and those two guns on the roof.”

“A 7.62mm machine gun on this roof and a 7.62mm GEC minigun mount on the roof of the driver’s cabin. Both are remote-controlled from inside the cabin. The only drawback with them is that you’ll have to go outside to refill their ammunition boxes. And I’m afraid you’ll also have to go outside if you have a need to use this.”

Buxton bent down and opened up a long metal box that was lying across several cases of 7.62mm ammunition. Slocock whistled. Inside the case was a Breda NATO-issue antitank gun. “You’re familiar with the weapon, I trust, Sergeant?”

Slocock nodded. “How many rockets?”

“Six.” Buxton touched an ammunition case with the toe of his boot. “In there. They each contain a pin-stabilized hollow charge round which can penetrate 320mm of armor plating at 0 degree incidence, and 120mm at 65 degrees incidence. Effective range is approximately 600 meters.”

Wilson said, in astonishment, “Why on earth do we need something like that? I thought our only danger, apart from the fungus itself, was from angry mobs of infected people.”

“Dr. Wilson, an awful lot of people have been cut off inside the quarantine area, including a number of military units. We know for certain that some members of these units have mutinied. On several occasions to date soldiers have attempted to break out through the quarantine barrier using their equipment. The result has been pitched battles between them and units outside the quarantine area. So far, we’ve kept them in.”

Wilson looked grim. “You’re saying we may have to fight our way through fully armed groups of soldiers? This whole thing gets more and more hopeless with each passing moment.”

“Hopefully you’ll be able to avoid any such confrontations. The beauty of the Stalwart here is that it can go practically anywhere, including through rivers and canals. If you should spot any army vehicles ahead of you, just try to detour around them,” said Buxton.