Emergence Series (Books 1-3), A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

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Emergence Series (Books 1-3), A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Page 17

by JT Sawyer


  “1100 hours—maybe this is connected with the heat. If that’s the case then they may not be able to cope well during the hotter parts of the day.”

  “Then we should give it another hour and drive those fuckers from their dens,” said Nash.

  Reisner felt Connelly tap him on the arm, then saw her pointing to the right, where there was movement along the shaded parts of the treeline encircling part of the compound. Reisner could see around a dozen creatures moving in from deeper in the jungle and squatting in the shrubs, their attention focused on the buildings. They weren’t as slow moving as the workers, but didn’t have the poise and stature of the one on the roof.

  “Sentry duty has just begun, it seems. Those must be the faster-moving ones like we saw in Taipei.” Reisner rested on his elbows as he surveyed the scene and then relayed the intel to Ivins and Porter. So much for another quick snatch-and-grab mission.

  Santos’ faint voice came over Reisner’s earpiece. “Contact at my six. There’s a creature who just moved in from the jungle and is sitting down about ten meters from us.”

  Chapter 46

  Selene was on the main deck with Admiral McKenzie, both of them intently studying the intermittent drone footage of what was unfolding on the island. They were privy to the conversations between Ivins and Reisner, and she could hear the underlying tension in their voices. After examining the movements of the creatures, and concurring with Reisner on his assessment of the figure on the roof, she was certain of her theory about an entomological connection within the structure of the creatures’ hierarchy. There was clearly some kind of melding that had occurred between the mites and the parasites because of the presence of the avian influenza. The pathogen Hayes had constructed caused a mutation in both organisms which enabled their individual adaptive strategies to form into one cohesive survival mechanism within the human body.

  “What are your thoughts on why the creatures suddenly stopped moving?” said the admiral. “Could it be they are not equipped to handle temperature swings, like Reisner suggested?”

  “I believe so—especially after speaking with several other researchers here. This is borne out in reports from cities around the world a few days ago that there seemed to be fewer attacks during the period between noon and 4 PM in climates similar to this one.”

  “Then that will provide us with one tactical advantage at least,” said McKenzie.

  She kept balling and unballing her fists, looking at the drone footage while trying to locate Reisner’s position amongst the images highlighted with red X’s. Selene felt like she could have been a thousand miles from the island. She wondered what he was thinking about at such a tense time and hoped he’d return soon.

  Chapter 47

  Reisner and his team remained in their concealed positions, observing the sentries for another hour but otherwise remaining motionless. It appeared many of these creatures were also having difficulty coping with the heat, as several were slouched against the trees, their skin exuding an oily substance while their mouths hung open.

  Reisner moved his hand slowly and tapped on his ear-mic twice to open the channel to everyone on his and Ivins’ teams.

  “These things are really sluggish now. I’d say this is our best chance to make our move. On my command, Santos will drop the creature behind us first. Porter, your team and mine will coordinate with sniping the sentries to the east and then we’ll drop some smoke through the windows of the buildings. Ivins will take down the creatures who exit while we stay on the perimeter and shoot any stragglers.”

  He peered back at Santos and nodded for him to dispatch the sentry at their rear. As Reisner fixed his rifle scope on a creature across the field to the right, he heard the faint pop of a suppressed round split open the greasy head of the slumbering beast behind them.

  Reisner saw the head of his intended target in the distance shudder then emit a high-pitched shriek as it stood upright and gazed in the direction of the dead sentry. It sensed the other one was killed!

  The other sentries joined, their shrill sounds filling the forest. A second later, the rest of the creatures poured out of the buildings and ran towards the jungle.

  “Shit,” he said, shooting his target in the forehead then switching to another creature. “Everyone engage,” he shouted into his mic. “Don’t let them slip into the jungle.”

  His team began methodically removing the sentries, their splattered heads painting the green foliage with an amalgam of blood and worm fragments. The workers scattered from the open spaces in the middle and began trotting into the forest, most of them never making it past the hail of incoming bullets from Ivins’ and Porter’s teams.

  Reisner sprung up and began moving forward. With each burst of fire, he’d progress a few feet, finally making it to the rear of the nearest building, where he’d seen the dominant figure on the roof enter earlier. A lone creature bolted from a clump of brush, its oily skin gleaming in the sun. It must have been one of the sentries from its sluggish appearance, as its gait was unsteady. Reisner swung his AR to the right and planted two rounds into the forehead. The back of its head splayed open, spraying a pink-and-gray mist onto the bark of a nearby palm tree. Dozens of worms slid down the bark and flopped around in the soil while the body of the mangled beast collapsed in the grass.

  Reisner waved his hand for Nash and Connelly to cover either side of the cinder-block structure while he smashed the butt of his rifle into the glass of a shoulder-high window. He saw creatures scurrying inside and noticed the exit door was still sealed shut from inside. Unlike the others, these hadn’t fled outside yet. What the hell are they waiting for? He pulled a smoke grenade from his vest and yanked out the pin, then tossed it inside. He waited a few seconds, listening for any movement near the door.

  “Proceeding to the side of the building,” he whispered into his ear-mic, alerting Ivins and Porter’s teams, whose gunfire had seemed to diminish. He moved up behind Connelly, who took a final glance at the jungle near the edge of the building then gave him a thumbs-up. Why aren’t those things storming out of the building yet? The smoke should have affected their airways by now. As the entire team moved to the side of the structure, Reisner motioned for her to blow the door while he covered the entrance. Santos had just moved up next to them, keeping his rifle fixed on the jungle behind them while Nash covered the rooftop and area near the front.

  Connelly placed three putty-like charges near the handle and where both hinges were located, then carefully placed the tiny detonators inside each wad and stepped back. Reisner let out a faint grin, knowing he had taught her this method in Syria, and he was amazed at how deftly she applied her skills given how few times she’d actually done this under duress. Connelly removed the palm-sized detonator, then checked the location of her teammates before depressing the switch. The brief explosion caused the steel door to break free from the frame and fall outward. Reisner stepped forward with his AR leveled as smoke billowed out. He thought of tossing an explosive grenade inside but he knew it would obliterate the body of the dominant creature. When the haze cleared enough for him to enter, he swept inside to the right while Nash flowed in behind him, taking the left side of the building.

  Their boots crunching along the gritty surface of the floor was the only sound present, and Reisner’s eyes widened as he scanned the empty room.

  Chapter 48

  Reisner blinked hard, studying the layout of the twenty-by-twenty room. His eyes stung slightly from the lingering presence of the smoke. There were remnants of empty pallets, broken furniture, and shattered glass on the ground, interspersed with muddy footprints.

  He heard Porter and Ivins reporting that the area outside was clear of hostiles. Reisner glanced up at the ceiling to check for any breaches or escape routes, then walked into the middle of the building, examining the cement floor.

  Where did they go? There were at least a half-dozen of them that came in here.

  Nash pointed to a single metal table that was overt
urned in the corner, whose edges had fresh dirt caked around them. Reisner and Nash both glanced at each other, their expressions showing surprise.

  “They had the forethought to cover their fucking escape route,” whispered Nash in a pensive voice.

  “Guess these aren’t mindless creatures, eh?” said Reisner.

  He moved up to the table as the other three members of his team moved in around him. Reisner moved his rifle to the side, letting it hang from his sling while he knelt down. Once the others were in place with their weapons, he grabbed the cumbersome table and flipped it to the right. A perfectly round three-foot hole in the soil revealed itself as a musty odor wafted up from the tunnel below.

  “This probably explains the dirt mound we saw outside near the log pile,” said Connelly.

  Reisner removed his slung rifle and turned on the weapon-mounted flashlight, shining it into the entrance at his feet. The hole went straight down for eight feet then ended at a tunnel that lead to the left. He clicked on his ear-mic and took a deep breath.

  “We’ve got at least six squirters that fled into a recently dug tunnel that heads north.”

  “Copy that,” said Ivins. “I’ll send some of my men to sweep the nearby treeline to look for an outlet.”

  Chapter 49

  The ridgeline Ivins and his team were situated upon provided an ideal vantage point for the compound below. Most of the creatures that had bolted from the buildings were neutralized, but there were a few stragglers that had darted into the jungle to the west in the direction of their boats. Spotting one through the scope on his AR, he followed the tall creature in the waist-high grass as it made its way along an old game trail. Once he had a clear view of the greasy head, he sent one round downrange, shattering the skull. He brushed a fly off his cheek then continued sweeping his rifle to the right for further signs of activity.

  Ivins spoke into his ear-mic to his men spread out around the ridgeline to either side of him. “Looks like things are clear below, but let’s assume there are a few squirters we missed. I want B-Team to head down below and sweep through the jungle to the east. Keep an eye out for the possible tunnel exit Reisner mentioned.” He looked to his left at the other four men. “A-Team, follow me down to the west. I want Danvers and Ward to stay here and provide cover support.”

  Everyone rose into a half-squat and veered off in their designated directions. Descending a muddy slope, Ivins moved slowly through the dense undergrowth until he came to an area that looked like a mountain bike had plowed through the jungle. He saw numerous tracks that zig-zagged through the brush. Using hand signals, he alerted the three other operators behind him, then stepped onto the trail.

  After stalking along the narrow footpath, Ivins saw two creatures forty feet ahead. Their heads were lowered and they moved in circles as if studying the ground. Are they trying to locate the others in the tunnels that Reisner mentioned? Just as he came to a halt to steady his rifle, the first creature swung its head in his direction, its red-spotted teeth clattering. He quickly centered his rifle’s red-dot sight on the nearest beast and dropped it with two rounds to the forehead, then swung a foot over and took aim on the second creature, which had just started to run in his direction. Ivins heard suppressed gunfire coming from behind him and saw a flash of movement to the right as three hideous creatures in bloody shirts bolted in from a tangle of shoulder-high bushes. He pivoted and dropped to one knee, firing at the first one leaping through the air. A flurry of rounds penetrated its chest and it landed with a thud on the ground next to him. It was so close he could smell the disgusting odor emanating from its purple lips, where dozens of worms wriggled furiously. Ivins swiveled around and smashed the lanky creature in the side of the temple, then stood up and fired another round into the back of the skull. He heard Kessler, the man behind him, grunt in fury as a creature dove for his waist and sent him to the ground. Ivins rushed up and kicked the thrashing creature in the ribs, driving it off Kessler, then he shot a burst into its face. Ivins immediately saw the rest of his men finishing off the last of the enraged beasts before spinning around to scan the surrounding jungle for further movement.

  Once they were done, he looked over Kessler and the others. “Remember—examine each other’s faces and clothing for any signs of parasites after close-range contact like this.” He thought of a mission earlier in the week to extract U.S. diplomats in Tokyo, where one of the other SEAL team leaders succumbed to a mass of parasites that landed on his neck after flinging a grenade into a hallway filled with creatures. The thought of dying that way sent an icy chill down his spine, and he and his men had sworn they would never let any of their team become one of the infected, even if it meant being the trigger-man like Ivins had been in Tokyo.

  When they had reassembled, Ivins resumed moving down the narrow trail. Thirty yards later, a foul stench pierced his nostrils and a buzzing sound blocked out the wind in the canopy. Sweeping aside a large palm leaf hanging over the path, he saw a small mound of dismembered body parts sitting in a clearing, covered with hordes of flies. There were hands, individual toes, knee joints, and the occasional eyeball, its white edges highlighted by the congealed pools of blood enveloping the pile. Ivins saw several name tags intertwined with the remnants of shredded lab coats, and figured these must have been the unfortunate survivors on the island who tried to hold out after the initial outbreak.

  Ivins stepped a foot closer, pausing to pull his shirt collar over his nose.

  “What in God’s name,” said Kessler as the rest of them moved in around Ivins. Peppered throughout the putrid heap of decaying flesh were the obvious limbs of human beings interspersed with deer, wild boar, monkeys, and monitor lizards.

  “So, they’re not just eating other people?” said Kessler.

  Ivins moved closer, trying to fight back the urge to vomit. He picked up a large branch from the ground and poked it through the pile as the cloud of flies dispersed momentarily.

  “Looks like there aren’t too many human remains here, but the other animals only have bite marks taken out of the throat.” He squinted at the mangled trachea of a small monkey, its glassy eyes staring at the sky. “It’s almost like they were sampling these other creatures or searching for something.”

  He tossed the branch on the ground, then angled his vest camera at the pile. “Doctor Munroe, I hope you’re seeing this.”

  Chapter 50

  Reisner slung his rifle again and then removed a chem-light from his vest. After activating it, he tossed it below and then removed his Glock and squatted near the hole. As he stared into the red-illuminated tunnel, he pulled up the collar of his jacket and readjusted each of his gloves, trying to shrug off the thought of encountering any parasites. He thought of fragging the tunnel with a grenade but didn’t know if there were any gas or electrical lines below. Plus, if the dominant creature on the roof was the one that had orchestrated this escape plan, it was something Selene would want to examine—dead or alive. Reisner knew his reasoning was logical, but it didn’t ease the knot growing in his stomach as he forced his boots forward into the shadowy confines of the tunnel, which suddenly seemed like it had constricted.

  Reisner glanced at the rest of his team, who had the same pensive expression he was certain was etched on his own face.

  “Santos, you’re behind me, then Connelly. Nash, you’ve got the rear.” He turned on the weapon-mounted light on the underside of his Glock, then dropped down into the red void, instantly coming to a squat with his weapon extended. The air was pungent—a blend of damp soil mixed with some kind of foul animal scent. Ahead of him was a thirty-foot-long passage that angled and split off on either side. Reisner scanned the ground, noting the plethora of bare footprints but seeing no signs of parasites. He took a deep breath, then squat-walked forward. After ten feet, he’d stop and listen while waiting for the rest of his team to descend.

  Nearing the fork, he studied the ground again, noting that there were only a few older tracks on the right while the
soil to the left showed considerable wear and freshly disturbed dirt. He panned his pistol to the right and could see the tunnel angled upwards slightly and ended six feet later in what appeared to be a domed chamber. Feeling the presence of Santos behind him, he swung back to the left and continued moving cautiously through the narrow confines. Twenty feet later the tunnel made an abrupt left turn. Damn it—so much for this tunnel heading north. Looks like it’s going in the opposite direction now.

  A heavy bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as he continued. Reisner’s senses bristled, searching for any hint of movement or increase in the passage of air. He had crawled through caves and tunnels before in war-torn regions, but that was in the pursuit of other humans. He wasn’t sure what these things were anymore or what their sensory capabilities were. Reisner felt a sense of dread like he was facing a monster from a childhood horror story told around the campfire on a stormy summer night—only those macabre tales never included legions of repulsive creatures trying to snuff out the human race in under a week.

  Approaching the turn in the passage, he saw a shaft of sunlight stabbing through the darkness and the familiar smell of jungle rot. Rounding the bend, he caught the flicker of a shadow near the entrance and saw a lanky creature turn and start bounding at him. The smooth skin on the face formed into deep furrows as the foaming mouth began snapping at the air. Reisner paused and aimed the sights at the thick forehead, then realized the resulting shot could cause a flood of worms to block his way. He lowered the muzzle and shot three rounds into the right of the pelvis, which caused the beast to slam against the root-entangled wall fifteen feet away. Shrieking in agony, the beast tried to stand but collapsed in a thrashing heap. Reisner shot another round into each shoulder, shattering the rotator cuffs, then rushed forward and viciously drove the full length of his nine-inch blade into the top of the skull. The maniacal creature went limp, its mangled body slumping to the side of the tunnel.

 

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