Brink of Extinction | Book 2 | Stay Alive

by Shupert, Derek

  I pulled the dagger from its sheath and held it close to my chest. Frank kneeled beside me, grabbed my arm, then tossed me over onto my back.

  He hovered above me, not more than an inch away. “What’s that in your–”

  I grabbed his forearm, jerked him toward me, and jammed the dagger into his gut. The tip punctured his coat and beyond.

  The flashlight fell from his hands and clattered off the floor of the jet. I held firm, stabbing him multiple times in the stomach.

  A blood-curdling welp and faint scream fled his lips. He dumped over onto his side, and crawled toward the exit of the plane, calling for his partner.

  I pushed up from the floor and went after him on my hands and knees. My fingers grabbed the back of the jacket’s hood and wrenched him toward me.

  “Please, don’t kill–”

  The dagger plunged into the side of his neck, then twisted, silencing the whimpering man’s pleas for mercy.

  “I showed you as much mercy as you were going to show us,” I replied, whispering in his ear. “Be thankful. I have released you from this horrid world. Your friend will soon join you.”

  His body twitched a moment longer before laying still on his side. The flashlight laid on the floor with its beam trained at his face, revealing his wide eyes and open mouth.

  “Frank, what the hell is going on in there? Get those boys out here so we can finish this up,” Jim yelled.

  I took a deep breath and got off Frank’s dead body. My hand dripped wet with blood as I struggled to get my legs under me. The world spun. I rocked from side to side, feeling like I could collapse at any moment.

  A bold, bright light shone through the side of the contorted steel of the fuselage, washing over the wreckage of the cabin.

  I collapsed against the wall, dropping my dagger as Jim entered the plane. The weapon clattered off the floor as the light trained in my direction.

  “Jesus Christ,” Jim shouted and backed away. His hand reached for the piece tucked in his waistband. He pulled it free and brought it to bear.

  I stumbled forward and slapped his arm toward the floor. The gun barked a harsh report from the enclosed space. The noise hammered my head. A loud ringing filled my ears.

  He struck me in the side of the head with the flashlight—adding insult to injury. I fell to the floor, hitting hard, then rolled to my side.

  “Where’s Frank, you bastard?” Jim asked, kicking me in the gut.

  Each blow to my midsection made it harder to breathe. I gasped for air between each strike as I shielded my body with my forearms.

  He stopped and hovered over me. His flashlight moved from my head. “Oh shit. You killed Frank.”

  I hacked up a wad of blood, then spat it to the floor of the jet.

  Jim rolled me over, flat on my back, then straddled my waist. He dropped the flashlight, then wrapped his gloved hands around my throat.

  “I’m going to kill you, your friend, and that damn pilot outside for what you did,” he said, sounding more beast than man.

  In my weakened state, I struggled to fend him off. My hands grabbed his wrists and pulled, but his fingers refused to leave my throat.

  He squeezed tighter.

  I stared at the faint outline of his face from the inside of the hood of his coat. The world grew darker. I struggled for air. My eyes bulged, soaking in the blackness within the hood.

  Strings of spit dripped from his mouth and splattered on my face. The stench looming from his mouth smelled of bad breath mixed with chewing tobacco.

  A shadowy figure materialized from behind the enraged man, towering over him and stalking closer. Another sharp report hammered the cabin of the jet followed by a spat of fire that flashed from behind the hood.

  The bullet punched through his forehead, and a fine mist sprayed me in the face.

  Jim’s fingers slipped from around my neck. He crumbled to his side, and hit the floor of the jet with a dense thud. His body lay next to me—dead.

  I gasped for air, coughing and massaging my throat. The shadowy figure retrieved the flashlight from the floor, then trained the light at my face.

  “You all right?” Jackal asked, weak and breathless. He braced himself against the wall of the cabin while looking down at me. I nodded, then coughed some more. The ringing in my ears lingered, but waned with each second that ticked by.

  “I’m glad to see–you’re not–dead,” I replied with a raspy, hoarse voice.

  “That makes two of us.” Jackal extended his hand to me.

  I grabbed his cold palm with a firm grip. He leaned back and peeled me off the floor, and I groaned in discomfort.

  “Who are these two?” Jackal asked, shining the light over their dead bodies.

  “No clue.” I stood still, allowing my equilibrium to balance out and to keep the world from spinning. “When I came to, they were inside the plane, rummaging around. They dragged Grizzly outside and were coming for us next. I took out his partner over there before this dick bag came in.” I kicked Jim’s dead body while nursing my sore throat.

  “Are there anymore outside?” Jackal shivered and pulled his arms tight across his chest. “Crap, it’s cold.”

  Heat radiated from my body, the surge of adrenaline still coursing through me, keeping the bite of the cool air at bay.

  I looked to the opening in the fuselage, then shrugged. “I don’t know if there are any more of them out there or not. I only heard these two. We could have another roaming outside of the plane, so keep your eyes and ears open. We need to see if we can find Grizzly, and see what he did with the coordinates.”

  Jackal peered through the gaping fissure next to him. The light washed over the sharp edges of the fuselage to the broken wing. Gray snow fell in large clumps that gathered on the remnants of the wing and blew into the cabin of the jet.

  “That’s not snow, is it?” He looked at me with his brow raised.

  “No. I think it’s ash or something,” I answered.

  Lightning crackled over the jet. A blinding light illuminated the trees across the way. Jackal flinched, his body tightening. Thunder followed, shaking the ground.

  “Sounds like that storm we encountered isn’t done yet,” Jackal said. “We need to get moving. Speaking of, do you know where we are?”

  “I don’t. We’ll have to figure that out later.” I pointed at the dead men. “Probably need to peel these coats off of them. What we have on isn’t going to keep us warm enough.”

  Jackal nodded.

  We each took a body and removed their coats. Both had blood stains and holes in the dense fabric, but they would do the trick in keeping us warm.

  Jackal stuck his finger through one of the many tears in the front of Frank’s jacket. “How many times did you stab this guy?”

  “Enough to make sure he died,” I replied, pulling the last remaining sleeve from Jim’s arm.

  I slipped the coat on and zipped it up to the bottom of my neck, trapping the heat.

  Jackal put his jacket on and flipped the hood over his head. “Minus the blood stains and tears, this isn’t half bad.”

  “Let’s see if we can scrounge up our rifles and anything else we may need and get on the move before anyone else decides to drop in on us.”

  “Copy that.”

  We both moved in laborious fashion, searching the aircraft for our weapons and anything else of use. The flashlights washed over the messy cabin as the wind howled and gusted through the windshield and breached fuselage.

  I discovered my travel bag among the wreckage, smooshed under my seat that had been torn from the floor. I shoved it out of the way and grabbed the straps, yanking it from the ground.

  It looked in decent shape—nothing more than a rip or two on the sides. I slung it over my shoulder and hunted for the rifle.

  “Did you lose something?” Jackal asked from the rear of the plane near the opening Jim had come in through.

  The flashlight moved over the wall of the cabin to the floor, then toward t
he cockpit. The buttstock of the rifle came into view.

  “You’re going to have to be more specific than that,” I replied, retrieving the rifle from the darkness.

  “Your dagger. It’s over here on the ground,” Jackal said.

  “Yeah. I dropped it earlier when old boy came into the jet. Lost my grip on it.” I secured the strap of the rifle over my shoulder, then turned to face him. I shone the light in his direction, finding my dagger clutched in his hand.

  Jackal walked toward me, then handed it over. “Have you seen my rifle.”

  “I haven’t. It should be somewhere around, though,” I answered.

  “It’s fine. We need to get moving before things get too bad out there.” He lifted the bottom of the dark-brown coat he’d taken from Frank’s corpse, revealing a pistol tucked in his waistband of his trousers. “I’ve got this piece, so I’ll be good.”

  We made our way through the plane to the outside. I jumped to the ground. The impact pulled a grunt from my pursed lips.

  The wind hit me like a thousand fists in the chest. The frigid air brushing over my bald head sent a shiver through my body. I pulled the hood up and lowered my head.

  Ash whipped about in the wind, pelting me in the face. I held my hand in front of me, trying to block it.

  Jackal jumped to the ground next to me. The wind caught the hood of his coat and pulled it off his head.

  I held my hand just above my brow, then flitted my gaze to the dark sky. Bolts of white lightning slithered through the bulbous clouds, blotting out the sun.

  Chunks and pieces of the aircraft that had broken apart upon impact lay scattered over the ground. I looked over the wing, spotting the deep trench the jet had made when it crash landed.

  I slapped Jackal in the chest. “Come on.”

  We moved around what broken fragment remained of the wing toward the rear of the jet. The light scanned over the endless carpet of gray, locating Grizzly’s body.

  “Hey, he’s over here on the ground,” I said to Jackal.

  Our flashlights focused on his body as we made our way over to him. He laid in the depths of the gathering ash. His body convulsed from the chilled wind and blood loss as he looked our way. The bottom half of his legs looked broken and smashed. A deep gash ran across the side of his face.

  I kneeled next to him with my back to the wind and falling ash. His teeth chattered and lips quivered. He stared at me with his one functional eye.

  “Where are the coordinates for the location where Lawson crashed?”

  Jackal flanked me, hovering over my shoulder. “Man. He’s messed up bad. He’s not going to make it far in this mess and will only slow us down.”

  Grizzly tried to speak, but his weakened state made it impossible to understand him.

  “The coordinates. Tell me where they are.” I grabbed Grizzly by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him closer.

  “Forget it. He’s too far gone,” Jackal said.

  I released my hold, glanced up, and spotted a vehicle past the trench. I nudged Jackal’s leg, then pointed at the jeep. “Hey, go check that out. Could be our ticket out of here. I’ll take care of this.”

  “Copy that.” Jackal walked around Grizzly’s busted legs with his piece clutched in both hands. He moved past what remained of the tail of the plane and through the furrow.

  My hand slipped inside the pocket of the coat, taking hold of the dagger. A single tear broke from the corner of Grizzly’s bloody and mangled face.

  I grabbed his hand, looked him in his one good eye, and plunged the tip of the dagger into the base of his skull.

  “You’ve been set free from this world and will suffer no longer.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CORY

  Anna pulled the Glock from the waistband of her jeans. Her fingers repositioned over the grip as she stepped closer to the stall.

  I inched forward, making a wide arch toward the other side of the barn. The blinding darkness beyond the wood that separated the stall from the main area of the barn concealed whatever lurked inside the shadows.

  “It’s probably just some animal taking refuge from all of that crap outside,” I said.

  “True, but I’d like to know whether it’s a racoon or something more dangerous,” Anna replied.

  A rustling noise came from the murk. Anna froze, training the Glock ahead of her. She bent down, peering through the wood slats of the gate before her. A growl sounded, followed by more shuffling of grass.

  “Can you see what it is?” I asked, squinting.

  Anna took another step forward. A sharp bark stopped her cold. “Okay. Just calm down and stay cool.”

  I inched closer behind her, peering over her shoulder at the animal moving about in the shadows. “That sounded like a dog, right?”

  “Yeah. That’s what I heard too.” Anna lowered her pistol, keeping her finger inside the trigger guard. She trained it at the ground, then placed her hand on the top of the gate before her.

  The animal stood up.

  I touched Anna’s elbow. “Perhaps we should just leave it be. I don’t think it likes us being so close.”

  “It’s probably just scared from all of the thunder and lightning outside.” Anna rapped her hand against the gate and spoke to the agitated animal in a soft, sweet tone. “Come here, sweetie. We’re not going to hurt you.”

  My eyes adjusted to the depths of the darkness in the corner where it hid, allowing me to see the vague outline of its body. The growling grew more intense as Anna tapped on the wooden gate. She kept the Glock trained at the floor and continued speaking to the animal.

  It rushed the gate.

  I stumbled back, putting as much distance between the creature and me as possible. Anna flinched, but stayed put.

  “Are you crazy?” I asked, pointing at the approaching animal. “It’s making it pretty clear that it doesn’t want to be bothered. All you’re doing is pissing it off.”

  “It’ll be fine.” Anna stuffed the Glock back into her waistband, then stooped down next to the gate.

  The animal crept closer, inching its way toward her one precarious step at a time. It shuffled through the grass, approaching the gate with caution. The dog growled, keeping its head lowered toward the ground. It looked large from what little I could see through the gate.

  “That’s it. Don’t be afraid. We’re not going to hurt you,” Anna said, sticking her hand through the gate.

  “Are you some sort of dog whisperer too?” My nerves tightened as Anna reached out to the animal. “You do realize that if it attacks and mauls your arm, you’re pretty much screwed, right? We’re God knows how far away from a hospital or any place for that matter.”

  “Calm down and be quiet for a minute, okay?” Anna replied in a curt manner. “You’re not helping anything.”

  “Whatever.” I kept my guard up, watching the dog approach her hand.

  A loud crackle of lightning thrashed the dreary sky over the barn. The dog flinched and paused. It lowered to the ground and waited.

  “I know it’s scary, but you’re all right.” Anna kept her arm through the gate, showing no signs of fear or stress of what the dog could do to her limb.

  It inched closer.

  “Can you see what it is?” I asked, trying to guess the dog’s breed through the shadows.

  “Looks like it could be a German shepherd, maybe,” Anna answered. “It’s got a dark coat, so I can’t be sure.”

  I spotted a bit more of the animal as it stood just beyond the gate and off to the side of Anna’s arm. It looked at her, then over to me through the diagonal slats. From what I could see, it did look like a German shepherd.

  It turned toward her arm, then sniffed at her. Anna reached for the dog, touching the side of its body. It flinched, then growled. Anna pulled her hand back slowly.

  “It’s okay.” She reached for the dog’s head, rubbing the side of its face. The growling subsided. Her fingers worked up to the crown, between its ears.

 
; The dog calmed, allowing her to pet its head.

  “There. See. We’re not so bad.” Anna continued rubbing the dog’s head a moment longer. She pulled her arm back through the opening, stood, then patted her thigh. “Come on. Why don’t you come here so we can get a better look at you?”

  I took another step back, distancing myself from the dog. Getting attacked wasn’t high on my to do list.

  The dog hesitated, nearing the small opening toward the bottom corner of the gate. It poked its maw through, then paused.

  “I imagine if it wants to come out, it will when its good and ready,” I said, pointing at the dog’s head. “It could have rabies or something and that’s why it’s being like that.”

  Anna patted her leg while glancing over at me. “If it had rabies, it wouldn’t have allowed me to pet it or come near me without attacking.”

  “True, but still,” I shot back, watching the dog’s every move. “Just watch yourself, all right.”

  It crawled through the opening, slow and low. The folded back ears on its head lifted. It looked at Anna, then over to me.

  Anna kneeled beside the German shepherd and placed her palm on its head. She rubbed from the crown of its head and down the spine. The dog remained on high alert, standing rigid next to her. It’s long and bushy tail curved then raised.

  “Seems like you’ve got the magic touch, there.” I watched Anna stroke the dog’s coat. She peered under its belly. I took a single step forward. The dog growled, baring its fangs, then snapped at me. “Okay. Sorry.”

  Anna ran her fingers through the dog’s silver-tinted fur. “Another fan of yours, it seems. Is there anyone that doesn’t want to kill you by chance, human or not?”

  “Doesn’t seem that way. Jury’s still out on you, though.” I kept my distance from the agitated canine, watching Anna check around its neck.

  “No tags on this girl.” Anna rubbed the sides of the dog’s head. “Again, for the record, if I wanted you dead or otherwise injured, it would’ve happened by now, so you can relax. I’m on your side.”

  We’ll see.

  The dog eased up, relaxing its tail and lowering it to the ground.