Ethan said nothing, concentrating instead on inflicting minimal casualties on the brainless. He’d successfully compartmentalized them as “the enemy,” mostly because of the danger they posed to his men. But deep down, a voice reminded him that they had no choice in any of this. And so he spared them as he could.
Then he turned the corner to see several vehicles from his unit parked around an intersection up ahead. Both Bradleys were there, along with four tactical trucks, with a fifth speeding toward them along Hickory Street.
His men had already taken to dividing themselves into six-man teams—one for each of the trucks, and four more teams to form a ground-based platoon, to pressure or bait the crazies, as needed.
Before parking the Escalade, he got on his PRC radio and started handing out orders, preparing his men for the coming engagement. If it could be called that. Judging from the previous night, the word “slaughter” would probably be more appropriate.
Time will tell. There was no need to make assumptions on that score, especially when inattention could mean his men getting cut off, surrounded, and slaughtered instead.
They moved north in reverse wedge formation, with Ethan and Janet trailing the wedge’s peak. Now, there was no sparing anyone. They came upon plenty of crazies, and they put down every single one.
At least it’s about as humane as we can make it.
For now, the targets were dispersed enough that almost every kill was a clean head shot from a designated shooter.
That started to change as they neared the armory, which was under siege by hordes of Ravagers.
As they drew near, Ethan’s prediction of a survivor presence proved out. Someone was firing back at the Ravagers from inside the squat, brown brick building, their weapon muzzles stuck out of shattered windows.
Ethan’s men knew what to do. They fanned out, spraying rounds into the backs of the Ravager throng pressing in on the building.
Soon enough, the first of Ethan’s men advanced onto the island of pavement surrounding the armory. As the first foot hit concrete, he noticed the survivors were attempting to close a white garage door at the end of the building, which they’d been using to increase their angles of fire on the enemy. Two teenage boys were working together to drag a body out of the door’s way so that it could close.
They were too late. The automatic bay door attempted to close, but a Ravager staggered past the sensor, causing it to lift again.
With that, other Ravagers flooded in.
“Focus on retaking that warehouse!” Ethan screamed, so forcefully it left his throat raw. “Push for the bay door!”
The sheer number of the mindless savages was staggering. There were just too many. They were closing in on the armory like a noose, their bodies already littering the space immediately around the windows.
The two Bradleys formed the tips of the wedge formation’s arms, and now the men made way for them to open fire.
The autocannons started up, their sound like a giant’s zipper unzipping. They ripped a path through the Ravagers, and a half-squad of GDA soldiers poured in, adopting a wedge formation to mirror the greater unit. They could only go so far: the Ravagers closed in again, finally taking notice of the lethal warriors coming at them from behind.
Ethan snatched his radio from his belt and held it close to his mouth. “Zim, have the ground teams advance along separate avenues of attack. The men need to be ready to pull back the moment the savages put undue pressure on them. I want zero casualties, Zim, is that understood? Zero casualties!”
“Yes, sir,” his first sergeant answered crisply.
Ethan spent the first half of the battle certain the armory would fall. Janet had ordered him to keep his grenade launchers and RPGs stowed, and he agreed with the order, as much as it delayed their victory. They couldn’t risk endangering the survivors—or the armory itself.
As such, they relied mostly on M4 assault rifles and snipers, while the defenders inside the building sprayed and presumably prayed. Ethan knew Janet probably didn’t care whether the survivors made it or not, except insofar as they contributed to a GDA victory over the mindless army.
Just as it seemed the armory would surely be overrun, the tide seemed to turn. New arrivals finally stopped flooding in from the surrounding streets of Harper, and together the GDA soldiers and the survivors mopped up the remainder.
As the last Ravager fell, Janet nodded. “Good.” It was the most he could expect from her, in the way of praise—in fact, it was more than he’d expected. “Let’s go see what sort of welcome we get.”
Ethan and Janet joined the ground teams and headed through the parking lot, which was littered with bodies and awash with red. He caught her wincing as her pant cuff brushed against one of the dead Ravagers.
Just inside the bay door, fifteen grateful faces awaited them. They turned toward Ethan and Janet almost as one when they entered, clearly recognizing them as the leaders. The GDA soldiers had already taken up positions around the warehouse.
A man stepped forward, holding a machine gun pointed at the floor. His foot brushed empty casings aside as he approached. “Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “We’ve been waiting to hear something from the government, or the military. Anything. It’s such an incredible relief that you’re here.”
Janet nodded. “Drop your weapons. All of you.”
The man with the machine gun gave a confused frown. “Why? We mean you no harm.”
“Because we’re taking them. Along with the rest of your supplies.”
Ethan watched as the man made the transition from confused to angry.
“You can’t take them. That would kill us.”
“Drop your weapons,” Janet repeated. As she spoke, the GDA soldiers around the room raised their arms, each selecting a target.
“No,” the man said, his rising voice mixing defiance with panic. “Get back!” He motioned to the others, waving them toward the back of the warehouse.
“Kill them,” Janet said.
Ethan looked at her, mouth falling open. His moment of shock cost the survivors their lives.
“No!” he shouted, the words coming out strangled, but it was too late. GDA muzzles blazed to life, mowing down the people who’d fought to defend the warehouse from the Ravagers. Many of them died before they managed to raise their weapons.
Inside the warehouse, the sound of so many weapons firing in tandem was almost deafening. Ethan held his FNX Tactical pointed at the floor, looking wildly from the dying survivors to his soldiers, at a complete loss for what to do. “Stop. Stop!”
He moved to grab the nearest man’s arms, to physically force him to lower his weapon, to stop shooting. But one of the survivors had managed to raise his assault rifle, and his wild shots raked across Ethan’s legs. He fell to the concrete, landing hard on his shoulder, teeth clamped against the agony.
After that, there was little he could do except watch through a haze of pain as the hail of rounds cut down the remaining survivors, their bodies jerking and staggering till they lay motionless on the scarlet-speckled concrete.
His consciousness faded, but with an effort of will he forced himself back to clarity. He would watch this. His inaction had allowed it to happen, and he didn’t deserve the sweet release of temporary forgetfulness.
As the weapons fire died away, he could feel his blood seeping out from his legs and onto the warehouse floor.
Janet had gone completely rogue. This confirmed it. He didn’t know whether it was alien influence or her own depravity that caused her to perpetrate a thing like this. But one thing he did know for sure: she wouldn’t be able to come back from it.
And I enabled her.
At the far end of the warehouse, a door creaked open, and the soldiers’ weapon muzzles twitched toward it in response.
A little girl’s face peered out, her hair a bedraggled mess that haloed her face. Her eyes went wide. Then someone inside snatched her back.
“Janet,” Ethan rasped, unabl
e now to keep the encroaching darkness at bay. “Janet, you bitch.”
Janet looked down at him, her face a study in neutrality. When she spoke, she sounded eerily calm. “These people made a profound sacrifice today, for the good of humanity’s future. Their sacrifice will never be forgotten. I’ll make sure of that personally.” She turned to the others. “Clear the rest of the armory. Kill anyone who resists. Disarm the rest. Then start loading any ammo and supplies onto the trucks.”
Her radio crackled, and Ethan recognized the voice that spoke as Robert Wick’s. “Ma’am, a significant number of our tagged specimens appear to be converging on a farm outside Medicine Lodge—most of the specimens, in fact. I took the liberty of sending one of the men to investigate. He was able to confirm that the asset is at the farm right now. I suggest we make for that location immediately.”
Janet unholstered the radio. “Very good, Wick. Start getting everything ready.” Replacing the device, she pursed her lips, looking thoughtful for a moment. Then, she raised her voice. “Forget the supplies. We have a lead on the asset. We’re moving out.”
Ethan’s gaze found the floor, then, fixating on an imperfection in the concrete.
So these people died for nothing. Absolutely nothing.
With that, he felt himself slump back. The darkness claimed him.
28
4 days to extinction
Max has been gone too long.
Ted stood up in the middle of one of Benson’s jokes. The big man cut off, studying him with eyebrows raised.
“I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”
“You got it. Just make sure you’re back before these animals eat all the chow.”
Offering a faint smile, Ted pushed through the crowded kitchen and into the hall.
Outside, the morning was coming on hot and dry. He cast his gaze around the property for any sign of GDA agents.
Damn it. He said he was just going to get Tara. Ted shook his head as he crossed the yard from the house to the barn. I should have gone with him. That was stupid.
If Janet got Max in her clutches because of his moment of carelessness, Cynthia Edwards would never forgive him. And he had a creeping suspicion he wouldn’t forgive himself, either.
When he rounded to the front of the barn, he found the broad, white door hanging open. With another glance around the property, he drew his FNX Tactical and held it low as he padded silently over the threshold.
There was Daisy, Ollie…but no Yago. His stall was empty, and all his tack was gone.
Shit.
“Max?” he called, knowing he’d get no response.
Except, he did get a response, of sorts. A stirring came from the hayloft, and Benson’s daughter sat up, a couple errant straws clinging to her auburn hair. When she saw Ted with his weapon drawn, she froze.
“Were you talking to Max this morning?” he asked.
She peered down at him for several seconds. He couldn’t tell if it was suspicion or the first moments of wakefulness that caused her scowl.
“No,” she said at last.
He nodded. “You should come inside. Someone was seen checking out your father’s property.”
“Okay. I’ll be right in.”
He left the barn for the farmhouse. As he crossed the yard, he scrutinized the surrounding forest even more closely. The fact Yago was gone suggested Max had left voluntarily, and hadn’t been taken. That was better, but it still placed everything in jeopardy. His life, the mission, and also Ted’s promise to Cynthia.
Why would he go without telling me? Ted had helped him every step of the way, ever since they’d left his house in Oklahoma City. He’d risked everything for Max. And this was how he repaid the favor.
Inside the farmhouse, he went straight to the piano bench where Jimmy still sat, a plastic blue mug dangling empty from his fingers. Ted seized the back of his shirt and hauled him up.
“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Shut up.” Ted ignored the curious looks from the diners, and then from Benson and his friends, as he hauled Jimmy bodily through the kitchen and out the door.
He slammed the door behind him and shoved Jimmy against the wall of the house.
“You were talking to him. Did he say where he was going?”
“Who?”
Ted grabbed hold of the front of Jimmy’s shirt, and shook him. “You know who.”
“Max? He’s gone?”
“Yes. Did he tell you where he was going?”
“No.”
“Were you being a little shit again?”
Jimmy looked away, lips tightening.
Almost, Ted hit him. But he drew restraint from somewhere and went back inside, heading straight for Benson. By now, the kitchen was completely silent. Everyone seemed baffled by Ted’s behavior.
He didn’t care. None of that mattered, now.
“Max is gone. We need to form a party to search for him, immediately.”
“Gone,” Benson repeated. “Taken?”
“I don’t know. His horse is gone too, so probably not. One of the sentries should have seen him go, right? That’ll tell us which direction he went, at least.”
“Slow down. You’re saying he probably chose to leave. Any idea why?”
“No. Will you help me look for him?”
“Of course.” Benson stood. “Maisie, get the raiding party together. We’re rolling out again sooner than we thought.” He raised his voice. “Any adults—adults, mind you—who want to volunteer to help search for the boy are welcome. But we need to leave enough people behind to defend Fort Benson, so we can only take so many.”
The number of hands that went up heartened Ted. They’d be able to cover a lot of ground, with this many people. Most would have to go on foot, but they had the quads, and there were other horses stabled in that barn.
“I want every party to be well armed,” Benson went on. “But only people with experience will be carrying. We’ll be handing out radios. If you run into any shit-for-brains, let us know right away. The rest of us will come and help you take ’em out.”
With that, the large farmer turned to Ted and placed both hands on his shoulders, the meaty slabs mostly enveloping them. “I know how I’d feel if it was Tara missing. And I’d want your help looking for her if she was. We’re gonna find your boy, Ted. That’s a promise.”
Ted nodded. “Thank you, Gord. It’s more appreciated than you know.”
Hell, I’m probably playing the worried father pretty well right now. He was certainly worried.
Within twenty minutes, the search party was assembled and gathered around the quads parked out front. People were checking over weapons, and a couple teenagers were emptying the barn of horses, Ollie and Daisy included. A sentry on the eastern perimeter had seen Max leave with Yago, but he’d been too far to do much about it. Max had passed through a gap in the tripwires Benson had set up around Fort Benson’s perimeter—the gap next to the tree the red-haired sentry had vacated, when he’d come to give his report about the soldier.
Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. Worthless. That was Ted’s final call on that little bastard. At least he wasn’t here objecting to the use of his horses.
They were about to roll out when yellow lights began to flash on the exteriors of the barn, house, and silo. Ted could hear an alarm sounding throughout the farmhouse, but from outside it sounded like a dim, rhythmic hum.
He looked at Benson. “What does that mean?” Though he probably could have guessed.
“Yellow means east.” The big man was peering in that direction now. “Something triggered one of the tripwires there. Let’s check it out.”
They jogged toward the tree line. Before they’d taken more than a handful of steps, the crackle of rifle fire sounded from the trees. And again. And again.
Benson’s radio came to life. “Mr. Benson, sir, we’ve got company.”
The man unholstered his radio and opened his mouth to respond. Before he could, Ravage
rs began to stumble out from the forest. Just one at first, then three, then eight. They flooded into the wheat fields and made their way toward the cluster of structures at the center.
More people radioed in, their voices panicked. Asking for information, or relating what they’d seen. Benson pressed the push-to-talk button on his radio. “All lookouts disengage as you’re able and withdraw to Fort Benson, immediately.” Benson turned toward the would-be searchers, who stood around the quads, looking back at him with fear written across their faces. He raised his voice. “Stations, everyone. Just like we drilled. This is the real deal.”
“What about Max?” Ted said.
Benson returned his stare with a look of pity. “Sorry, Ted. Looks like our search just got cut short.”
Ted looked back at him with gritted teeth and said nothing. Past Benson, past the farmhouse, he saw more Ravagers emerging from the trees.
29
4 days to extinction
Janet ejected her FNX Tactical’s spent magazine and slammed in a fresh one from one of her vest holders. Sighting along the barrel, she lined up her next target and fired. The gray-haired woman’s crown blew apart, and she went down in a heap of limbs. Janet lined up her next shot. Beside her, Sergeant Zimmerman sent an M4 burst up the back of a man’s neck.
When she woke this morning, she hadn’t expected to find herself in the middle of the woods shooting crazies. But right now, the GDA was in panic mode.
One of her scouts had seen the asset, on the farm they were now fighting to reach. He’d been walking between buildings on the property.
When she’d learned that, she ordered all of her soldiers out of the armory they were raiding. Two of them had picked up an unconscious Ethan on the way out, carrying him to an Escalade as gently as they could. Right now, he was on a couch inside their mobile command unit.
She’d left a handful of her men to set up camp just outside these woods—to protect their vehicles and equipment, not to mention Ethan. The trees were too dense here to bring anything through them except small arms. The Bradleys had had to stay put, back at their new camp.
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