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Masks of Ash

Page 23

by Adrian J. Smith


  “Even Offenheim?” Cal asked.

  “If we can find his alpha nanite code, then yes, even Offenheim.” Sofia retrieved a bag with several more flash drives and handed them out.

  Ryan had to hand it to Sofia and Avondale. They had come up with a brilliant idea. If they were successful, it would make the rest of the mission a breeze.

  Lisa whistled again. “Task one is to take out the equipment that’s blocking incoming signals. Task two is to install these flash drives. Task three is to align a satellite to receive our signal. The next task is unpleasant, but necessary: we must capture Offenheim and kill his inner circle. If we can avoid it, I don’t want to harm any US Army soldiers. Anyone. We’ve trained for this. I know you all have the skills to carry this out. I need to rely on you one more time. Never has America – or, in fact, the world – needed you more. Now, get some sleep. We have an early start tomorrow.”

  Ryan waited behind as everyone, apart from Avondale and Lisa, filed out of the briefing room.

  “Lisa,” Ryan said.

  “Yes?”

  “Timing’s going to be critical on this mission. It may take longer for Alpha to get in position than we anticipate.”

  “Are you expecting resistance?”

  “All I’m saying is, it’s a long hike. Allie’s dropping us in a couple of valleys over, sure, but Offenheim will be expecting it. He’ll have sentries everywhere. Motion sensors, cameras. We need more time.”

  “How much?”

  “Half a day should do it. I request that we be dropped en route to Beale,” Ryan said. Beale Air Force Base, near Maryville in northern California, had been attacked on the day of the combusting. Hundreds of lives had been lost, but a couple of runways had survived and, thankfully, some of the personnel. Munroe had come through again and helped secure the base. Their list of allies was growing longer.

  Lisa smiled, her features softening. “Connors. If you need more time, then I’ll give it to you.” She grasped his shoulder. “Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks,” Ryan said. The two old friends stood staring at each other for a few seconds before Ryan turned away and headed to his sleeping quarters.

  Tomorrow, it began.

  Thirty

  Mount Hood Forest Park, Oregon

  Like many regions with wilderness areas, Oregon suffered its fair share of fires. To combat them, the state had built airfields next to reservoirs to make coordinating an aerial response easier. LK3 now made use of one. Right on schedule, a C-130 Hercules rumbled out of the night sky. Earlier, a few flares had been laid to help guide the aircraft in. Behind the C-130 were three F-16s and a V-22 Osprey, all from Fort Lewis.

  As the Hercules and the Osprey landed, the fighter jets stayed airborne, circling the area. Lisa ran forward and exchanged words with the two C-130 pilots before waving The Nameless over. Within moments, Allie and Booth were behind the controls, The Nameless were aboard, and the Hercules began to taxi down the runway. Seconds later, they were in the air. The whole exchange had taken less than two minutes. Ryan checked that Zanzi and Tilly were secure in their seats, then headed to the cockpit.

  “Hey, boss,” Booth said. “Nice morning for a flight.”

  The early morning was clear and crisp. As they gained altitude, he could see the pre-dawn painting the sky far to the east. Ryan wondered if this would be one of the last dawns he would see.

  He pulled a map from his satchel and folded it to the grid location he wanted. “Allie. Do you think you can fly us down this valley, quite low?”

  “Sure. How low are you talking?”

  “Six hundred meters.” Ryan jabbed his finger at the map. “After I spoke to you earlier, I figured we needed to be more cautious. These planes make enough noise to attract attention. Offenheim will have sentries everywhere.”

  “Your team needs to be ready to jump as soon as we enter the valley.”

  “Sounds good.” Ryan took the seat behind the two pilots’ seats. “You guys have any luck contacting your loved ones?”

  Booth shook his head and grimaced. “Not a peep. But with the phones down, it was always a long shot.”

  “I’ll help you look for them once this is over,” Ryan said. “Allie, what about you?”

  “My sister registered at Beale.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “You?” Allie asked.

  Ryan shook his head. If he admitted it, he hadn’t bothered to try to reach his family in New Zealand and didn’t see the point. There wasn’t much he could do from here. He came from a dysfunctional and fractured family as it was. If he survived long enough and they were successful, then he would reach out.

  “Thanks, guys. For all your efforts. Allie, I know you didn’t have to join us. The fact you did shows your character.”

  Booth punched him lightly on the arm. “Get out of here, you big softy. Get your gear ready. I’ll give you a fifteen-minute warning to the drop zone.”

  Ryan smiled and left the cockpit. The passenger hold was a hive of activity as he walked through. Lisa, Brock and Kamal were loading up the four kayaks Munroe had provided, while Sofia was checking maps against what she had loaded on her tablet. She winked at him as he walked past. Reid was cleaning weapons and checking ammo in another corner. Cal, Zanzi and Tilly were going over their suits and parachutes. Alpha team had decided to strap Tilly and Zanzi together in tandem as this was Tilly’s first jump.

  “We all set?” Ryan said.

  “Just about,” Cal said. She clicked the lid shut on a sniper rifle case. It was missing the suppressor, but otherwise appeared functional.

  With nothing left to do, Ryan settled into his seat and closed his eyes. No one talked, each lost in their own thoughts. Ryan let his mind drift. As fragments nudged his mind, he brushed them away. It was a technique he had learnt to calm his mind before a mission. Thirty minutes to an hour of thinking of nothing and everything. Nevertheless, his thoughts turned to his childhood in New Zealand. Living with three physical, active brothers had been challenging. Always the quiet one, Ryan had retreated into reading at a young age. He loved it, reading about dragon riders and diabolical apocalyptic viruses. He read all the classics: Frankenstein, Day of the Triffids, Catch 22, Lucifer’s Hammer. In no time, he had read his small-town library out.

  His brothers had teased him, called him a nerd. Their favorite pastime had been ‘torture time’, where they would hold him down and carry out gross forms of bullying. They’d wipe spit and snot over him. Sit on his face and fart. Ryan had learnt not to struggle, as they thrived on that. Instead, he would escape into whatever universe the book he was currently reading created. This technique had served him well during his professional career too, giving him an escape no matter where he was or what he was doing.

  Cal nudged him with her elbow. “You there? You look a million miles away.”

  “Just about. I was thinking about my brothers.”

  “Do you think they made it?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Maybe. If they survived the combusting. Mark and Dave are hunters. Love being in the bush. They’ll be okay. Seth, I’m not sure. Maybe when this is over, I’ll make my way down there.”

  “I’m sure Allie would fly us,” Cal said. “I have my doubts about Tilly being on this mission. She has zero training.”

  “Can’t say I disagree, but Zanzi says she knows The Eyrie. We need her.”

  “I just don’t want to see our daughter get hurt. If something happens to Tilly on her watch…” Cal said, but left the rest of her thoughts unspoken.

  Ryan shrugged again. It was risky, but everyone who wanted to go deserved to, for whatever reasons.

  The red light in the cabin began to flash, and Allie’s voice crackled over the radio. “Alpha team. Fifteen minutes to drop zone.”

  “Copy that,” Ryan said. He and Cal checked each other’s parachutes and repeated the procedure on Zanzi and Tilly. Ryan tugged on the tandem harness, making sure it was secure, before helping his daughter and Tilly move i
nto position. Lastly, he clipped in the tether and waited at the back ramp for the go signal. Booth flashed a thumbs-up, signaling that he was ready. Sofia gave him a wave, and Lisa walked over.

  “Godspeed, Connors. Keep radio contact to a minimum. Whatever happens, I’m proud to have served with you both.”

  “Thanks, Lisa. I’m proud to have served with you too,” Ryan said.

  Booth punched him in the shoulder and whacked the top of Ryan’s helmet as he helped him buckle it. “Watch your spacings. I know it’s been a while since you dived.”

  “Got it,” Ryan said. No other words were spoken. The two old friends knew what was at stake. The time for banter was over. This was the direst situation they had ever been in. They all knew the outcome if they didn’t succeed.

  The ramp hummed as it lowered. The wind whipped around Ryan’s legs. He checked his altimeter. Allie was bang on six hundred meters above the ground. Trees flashed by, and a winding road snaked below. The green light flashed, and Booth jumped out. Zanzi shuffled forward with Tilly strapped to her, followed by Cal. They too dropped from sight.

  Ryan saluted Sofia and leapt into space. The wind tugged at him, throwing him around. He locked his back and spread his arms and legs. He yanked his chute free seconds later. Calmness settled for a moment as he adjusted the toggles and searched out his team. Cal, and Zanzi with Tilly, were a few meters below and to the south-east, with Booth a little lower still. Their target was the well-manicured and brightly painted high school football field, which was easy to spot in the silvery morning light.

  Ryan turned his head to look at the small town. The streets were set out in a grid. In the middle was the town square and, in its center, a town hall. Two large churches sat opposite each other. Ryan noticed some movement but couldn’t determine its origin. He tugged the left toggle, performed a neat two-stage flare, walked a few steps, and dropped his chute. He unclipped it and quickly stowed it away before jogging over to Zanzi. She and Tilly lay in a heap, struggling to untangle themselves.

  “Everyone okay?” Ryan said.

  “Mostly,” Zanzi said. She grunted and managed to unclip Tilly, who rolled away, eyes wide and a grin on her face.

  “That was amazing!” she said, her voice a little loud. Ryan didn’t blame her for her excitement, remembering his first jump. The exhilaration. The wind whistling past. The sense of weightlessness. As if the world had disappeared and he was floating in space.

  Cal and Booth helped stow Zanzi’s chute into the gear bag, then stashed it behind a dumpster along with their flight suits, while Ryan watched for hostiles.

  Minutes later, they were armed and creeping up the road, doing their best to stay in the shadows. The town was quiet, apart from the dawn chorus of birds and insects. It was strange not hearing dogs barking or cats fighting. Ryan halted mid step as a shadow flicked in his peripheral vision. A flag with an emblem he didn’t recognize fluttered in the breeze. The difference between this town and Portland was that someone had cleaned up. Stalled or crashed vehicles had been pushed neatly to one side. There was evidence of ash forms, dark stains on the road, but the ash itself had been cleaned away. The lamp posts and trees were covered in missing posters and bunches of flowers. Small shrines with candles had been placed next to letterboxes. Ryan shook his head. So many lives gone, while those remaining had been left to pick up the pieces. But what pieces were there? How did you carry on when your world had changed forever?

  He pushed his thoughts aside and took point, leading Alpha team up the main street. As they drew closer to the town square, groans bounced off the buildings. Ryan raised his fist. He knew that sound. Siphons. Dropping to his knees, he crawled forward and peered around a classic Chevy with round headlights. Dozens of Siphons were congregated around the town hall, banging on the doors and windows, which had been boarded up. Some of the creatures were showing signs of starvation, gaunt faces and skin pulled tight, highlighting their bones. Ryan peered through his spotting scope. Some had collapsed and lay still. The whole scene was eerily familiar to Prince Rupert.

  He crawled back to his team and ushered them down an alley. “Siphons are surrounding the town hall. Obviously, the survivors from this town are inside. We have a decision to make. Do we leave them to whatever fate and keep going, or do we intervene?”

  “Mission comes first,” Cal said. “Stopping OPIS is more important.”

  “Agreed,” Booth said.

  “Really?” Zanzi said.

  “Yes. Why risk ourselves, not to mention risk the mission, for God knows how many people? If they’re even alive,” Cal said.

  Zanzi shook her head, frowning. “We can’t leave them to be eaten. I thought you swore to protect?”

  “We did,” Cal said. “And the best way to do that is by defeating Offenheim.”

  Ryan sighed. “I agree with your mother, Zanzi. Mission comes first. We’ll call it in and direct Munroe to rescue them, but we have to keep going.”

  Zanzi shook her head again and took a few steps away.

  Ryan led Alpha team around the town square. It pained him to leave the townsfolk. They were in obvious need of attention, but Cal was right; they had to focus on the bigger picture. It didn’t take him long to find the trail head. They stopped under a bus shelter and checked the map. The trail wound its way up the valley for several kilometers before joining the Pacific Crest Trail.

  They settled into an easy rhythm. The sun shone through the trees, and a cool breeze blew, making shadows dance on the ground. For the Connors, the wilderness was like a second home. Ryan had lost count of the weekends they had loaded up the 4X4 and left town to enjoy nature. He had wanted his children to experience what he’d had, and to become familiar with nature’s dangers.

  For two hours he pushed them. No one uttered a word. Tilly gasped as she struggled up the rocky path, but never once did she complain. When they reached the summit, Ryan signaled a stop and scanned the vicinity. As it had been on the way up, the forest was silent, no sign or sound of humans. Booth jogged a few meters up the trail and took up a guard position. Alpha team had worked so long and so many times together, no orders had to be given.

  Ryan accepted the MRE Cal handed him. “Thanks.”

  “This is like girl scouts. We used to go on hikes like this,” Tilly said.

  “How are you holding up?” Cal said. “No blisters?”

  “I don’t think so. My feet are sore, though.”

  Ryan zoned out from the conversation and squinted through his spotting scope at the trail ahead. He found it curious that they hadn’t come across any remains or signs of survivors. April was a popular month on the PCT. Many hikers heading south and north would start, hoping to miss any late snowfalls on the high mountain passes. There should be at least some evidence. They finished up their small lunch and moved on. Again, Ryan pushed them hard. He had to; they had a lot of ground to cover and would walk long into the night.

  The trail wound up the valley, switching back and forth as it climbed. As he rounded a blind corner, Ryan picked up a pungent stench. He flung an arm out and dropped to one knee. Up ahead were three Siphons, stripped to the waist. Their ribcages were visible beneath their ivory skin. They milled around, grunting. Ryan turned and signed his plan to Cal, Booth and Zanzi. Once they were in position, he darted around the corner and shot the first Siphon in the chest. The mutated human staggered but didn’t fall. Once a man, his hiking pants clung to him in shreds. The other two had been women. Ryan ignored them both and, drawing his knife, ducked under grasping hands and slammed his blade into the male Siphon’s temple. It dropped like a sack of potatoes. Behind him, a pfft pftt sounded as Cal, Booth and Zanzi disposed of the female Siphons.

  Tilly gasped at a grisly sight farther along the trail. Five tents had been pitched around a campfire. Fold-out chairs and food were scattered, while six bodies lay, limbs twisted at odd angles. One had fallen into a tent before the Siphons had torn away his neck and throat tissue to get to his spine. The tent was soak
ed in claret.

  Ryan held his buff over his nose, attempting to block out the stench of the badly decomposed bodies. Stomachs bloated, skin long-turned gray, flesh on the skulls and arms sunken against the bone.

  “The poor bastards,” Booth muttered as he moved from body to body. He crouched next to a couple, whispering prayers. He looked up at Ryan, shaking his head.

  “We have to bury them,” Tilly said.

  “No time. They stay as they lie,” Ryan said.

  “We can’t leave them like that.”

  “We must. If anyone’s tracking us and comes across buried bodies, they’ll know we’ve passed,” Ryan said.

  “What about the Siphons?” Zanzi said.

  Ryan turned and grinned at her. “I’m glad you asked that question. Help me drag them into a tent. Booth, you too.”

  ***

  Hours later, with night falling, they were still some distance from the PCT. Ryan switched on his headlamp, making sure it was in red mode. He consulted his map once more as he walked. There should be a ranger hut close by. Somewhere with a radio and supplies. It was a good place to stop for a few hours and report in, and Tilly was beginning to struggle.

  Cal caught his eye and dropped back, allowing Booth to take point. “We’re going to have to stop soon.”

  “My thoughts exactly. According to this map, we’re close to the ranger’s hut,” Ryan said.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  Cal raised an eyebrow. “You have that look again. The one you always have when you’re skeptical.”

  Alpha team paused on the trail and sat down at the base of an ancient pine. Its bark was gnarly, ridged with scented sap that oozed from cracks in the trunk.

  “What are you concerned about?” Cal asked.

  “The rangers hut would be the perfect place for Offenheim to place sentries. It’s the most logical place.” Ryan jabbed a finger at his map. “These topography lines show that the hut’s on a rocky plateau between steep inclines. There’s only one way through this area.” He unfolded the map and checked. “We could take a detour but doing that would add at least a day.”

 

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