Read Online Purification by David Moody - Free Book Online

revulsion, praying for the light to fade and the dark to return. The nearest corpses were less than ten metres ahead.
    The ragged line of soldiers, still advancing steadily, reached a slight ditch where a meandering stream had once run diagonally across the battlefield but which had, over the course of the last few weeks, become clogged and filled with a compacted layer of rotting human remains. The trooper on Ellis’ right, fighting to keep concentrating and not lose control of his frayed nerves, stumbled and slipped on the uneven ground, ending up on his hands and knees in the middle of the stagnant trench. A powerful wave of gut-wrenching nausea swept over him as he looked down into a mire of the mashed and mangled remains of decayed faces, limbs and other body parts, all instantly recognisable as such. As he pushed himself back up and tripped and stumbled further towards the approaching bodies, bile began to rise in his throat and he started to salivate. He knew that he was going to vomit, but he also knew that he had to stop himself from doing so at all costs - he couldn’t take off his facemask. He turned back to face his advancing colleagues and another searing jet of fire lit up the stormy sky above him. Less than a second later a shell dropped short of its intended target and landed just metres away, exploding instantly and showering the troops with mud, shrapnel and putrefied flesh. Knocked to the ground again, the trooper panicked and scrambled back away from the front line. He was aware of a sudden stabbing, burning pain in his back, but his sickening fear and disorientation kept him moving. Once up on his feet again he reached over his shoulder and rubbed at the part of his neck and right shoulder which hurt the most. He could feel a small, jagged shard of metal which had ripped through his suit and pierced his skin. When he brought his hand back around he saw that it was covered in blood, and it was the sight of the blood on his glove which terrified him more than anything else. His suit had been compromised. Panicking, he lifted his weapon and turned back around. At first the adrenaline numbed the pain and kept him fighting.
    Aware of a gap in the attacking line to his side, Ellis turned around. The wounded soldier next to him continued to fire into the swarming bodies until the infection caught him. As he emptied another round into the crowd the inside of his throat began to swell. In seconds the swellings blocked his windpipe and then began to split and bleed.
    Knowing he was dying, but not sure how or why, the soldier slowly turned on the spot, as if silently looking around for help or explanations. Frozen in position by a spontaneous nervous reaction, his finger remained on the trigger of his rifle, sending a seemingly endless torrent of bullets flying through the air. Ellis was the first to fall to the ground, shot through the neck. Another six men and women immediately around him were felled in seconds.
    Ellis saw one of them drop just metres from him.
    The sounds of battle were muffled and silenced down on the ground. Weighed down by his breathing apparatus and other equipment, Ellis managed to roll over onto his back in the mud. He looked up into the cloudy sky above his head and waited. The heavy rain clattered down on his facemask, drowning out all other noise. He was aware of sudden, frantic movement and then utter darkness.
    The last thing Ellis remembered was feeling the crowd of emaciated bodies smothering him as they crawled over him and marched on towards the base.
    ‘Listen,’ Cooper said as he stood by the transports next to Michael and Heath.
    ‘What?’ Heath stammered nervously.
    ‘Something’s
    happening.’
    The men stood in silence and listened to the sounds which echoed around them.
    ‘What?’ Heath asked again.
    ‘Can’t you hear it?’ Cooper whispered.
    ‘Hear what?’ Michael demanded, becoming increasingly uneasy.
    ‘Shh…’ he answered. ‘Just listen.’
    Michael