Porky Shader
Off the California Coast
Shader brought the binoculars down and sighed. The harbor area was a battleground. There were Variants everywhere.
“Tell me what you see,” Shader said, handing the optics to one of the sailors from the Freedom who had captained the trawler from Avalon. The man stared out at the coast, scanning the harbor and surrounding roads.
“Those things are attacking each other,” he said. “There’s no way we can dock and take on passengers.”
“I got the same read,” Shader replied before grabbing the binoculars and glassing the coast again.
The sun had broken over the horizon and was slowly climbing into the morning sky. As he stared to the east, it blinded his vision when scanning parts of the distant shoreline.
“We’d better let Carver know about this.”
“I’m on it,” the man replied.
“John. We’ve made it to Oceanside Harbor. We are about a half mile offshore, and it’s crawling with Variants,” Shader said after connecting with Carver.
He listened to Carver, then continued.
“Brother, I don’t think that’s a problem right now. There’s something going on here. I think…wait!”
Shader was scanning the beach while talking, when a blurry shadow flashed across his vision.
“Hold this,” Shader said, handing the handset to the sailor.
He gripped the binoculars with both hands and searched the sky. Something sped across his field of vision again, and it wasn’t a sea gull. Just out of focus, it reminded him of… There!
“Holy shit,” Shader murmured as he stared at the flying abomination.
“What is it?” the sailor asked.
“Haven’t a clue,” Shader replied as a pack of the ghastly creatures rushed toward the flotilla. “Warn the others. Take shelter inside their boats. They’ll be on us in less than a minute.”
“Warn them of what?”
“For the life of me, I have no idea. They look like a swarm of insects. Very nasty, big sons of bitches, and they’re coming right at us.”
Shader rushed inside the trawler and retrieved his battle rifle as the sailor broadcast the warning over the flotilla’s frequency. The ships’ decks were quickly cleared, and some of the sailors reappeared with their weapons.
The swarm rushed forward. As they approached, Shader could make out more detail. Without a point of reference, he couldn’t tell just how big they were, but their appearance was even more frightening the closer they got. Black and grey in color, they resembled giant beetles. Their wings fluttered like an insect, pushing an oval-shaped carapace through the air. As they approached, Shader was horrified to see a misshaped head at the top of the shell. It was a Variant skull, with armored plating and an oval mouth filled with razor-sharp fangs. The eyes were the same as the infected, having vertical slits that were surrounded by a burning radiant yellow. Just above the swarm, he spotted one of the damned flying creatures he’d thought they’d eliminated on San Clemente Island. It seemed to be directing, or at least, observing the attack.
The mass of creatures broke up, sending individual beasts hurtling toward each boat. Shader raised his M4 and began firing at two of the things that had homed in on his craft.
Sparks flew as the rounds bounced off the creatures’ chest armor. He dumped an entire magazine with no effect. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw a shadow racing at him. Shader dropped to the deck as a third monster rushed by, its talons just missing his head.
Screams echoed from the adjacent boats. Shader bounced back up and looked around as he replaced his empty magazine. Four of the abominations were soaring away, each holding a piece of a dismembered sailor. Blood was atomized as it spewed from each body part, dispersed by the monsters’ rapidly fluttering wings.
The creatures circled back around and dove at him once again. He backpedaled off the aft deck and into the cabin, but the craft’s double sliding glass doors wouldn’t keep the creatures out for long.
“Get to the lower deck!” he yelled at the sailor.
Both scurried down the ladder as one of the monsters landed and smashed its way inside. It barely fit through the opening’s frame.
Shader stopped at the bottom of the short ladder and grabbed his shotgun. The creature charged at him but couldn’t follow him down. The opening was too small.
The cries from the other ships floated through the open port windows as Shader lined up his blaster. He put the front bead on the monster’s center mass and pulled the trigger. A huge chunk of plating blew off, but it only aggravated the creature. It began to attack the wood around the lower level’s opening, ripping chunks of teak from the floor of the salon.
Shader racked the Remington’s forestock, sending the spent shell flying to the right before he shoved a new load into the chamber. He fired again and got the same result.
The monster roared and attacked the stairwell with an even greater fury.
Shader grabbed a round from the gun’s shell caddy. He slipped it into the magazine and racked the blaster again. The firearm was loaded with a slug rather than the nine-pellet buckshot he’d originally filled the shotgun’s tube with.
The monster tore the deck and stuck its head down at Shader. Its oval mouth opened and screamed at the SEAL; black-speckled saliva roped across the razor-sharp fangs. Shader thrust his muzzle forward and into the creature’s mouth. He pressed the trigger, sending the nearly 450-grain copper slug through the barrel at close to 1800 feet per second. The monster’s cranium exploded out the back of its skull, spraying speckled blood and brain matter onto the upper deck’s ceiling. It collapsed across the opening, goo draining down onto the lower deck’s wooden floor.
Shader stepped back and unloaded the remaining buckshot from the shotgun’s tube. He shoved the five slugs still remaining in the gun’s caddy into the magazine and racked one into the firearm’s chamber.
“Come on. We need to get back up top.”
The sailor grabbed his own M4 and led them forward to a second opening. Shader pushed the man to the side and unlatched the overhead hatch. He shoved it open and scanned the sky. Several more creatures were flying away, each carrying a piece of flesh that used to be one of his men. He bounded up the ladder and looked for something to kill.
He saw movement to the rear. Two of the creatures were trying to push their way into the upper cabin through the rear double sliding door frame. Shader moved up the port side. Using the gunwale as a point of reference with his shin as he shuffled aft, he made his way along the side of the boat. His full concentration was down the barrel of his blaster, keeping the front sight squarely on one of the insectoid monsters.
Shader’s companion was grasping the SEAL’s shoulder as he followed closely behind, letting the Master Chief know exactly where he was.
“Contact left,” the sailor yelled.
The man’s M4 erupted as he sprayed the air with his 62-grain penetrators. Shader kept his sights on the two monsters. With the eruption of the other sailor’s rifle fire, one of the creatures raised its head. Shader placed a copper slug through its face. It had the same nasal tissue as the Variants they’d encountered six months before on San Clemente Island. They were sightless, using a vibrating bank of flabby tissue where their nose should have been. The sonic-sensitive flesh was destroyed by the hard-hitting slug, and it flopped back dead onto the deck.
The second creature leapt into the air and flew away before Shader could get a good shot at it. He spun around and blasted a third monster that was diving toward him. The slug tore away a chunk of armor, sending the monster careening to the side before it recovered and soared back into the air. The wounded creature circled high and started to swoop back down toward the two men.
“Screw this!” Shader barked.
He dug into his battle-belt’s dump pouch. He fumbled around and quickly found what he was looking for. The SABOT shell slid easily into the gun’s underbelly magazine well. He racked it in p
lace and aimed at the flying monster.
The shotgun erupted; the projectile screamed toward the creature. A few feet from the end of the barrel, the slug’s plastic casing fell away and dozens of arrow-like metal fléchettes rocketed at the descending beast. They pierced through the monster’s carapace.
Designed to penetrate body armor, they shredded the creature’s insides. It staggered in flight then dropped to the ocean’s surface. Its heavily armored body quickly sank below the surface. It was gone within moments of hitting the water.
Shader drew more of these shells from his dump pouch and replaced the slugs with these more effective rounds. He’d killed three of the beasts so far, but many more filled the air above the vessels. They swooped down and attacked the other boats, none of those on board coming close enough to his weapon for an effective shot.
Shader’s frustration only grew as another sailor was disemboweled. Two of the monsters swooped in and each carried away the body parts. They were too far away for an effective shot. All the while, one of the San Clemente Variants soared high above, just out of reach of any rifle or shotgun.
Shader pointed up at the soaring monster and growled. “That damned Variant is directing those things. I can feel it.”
“I have no shot,” the sailor grumbled as he continued to scan their immediate surroundings.
Shader lowered his shotgun then lifted his own M4 and pointed it skyward. The single-point sling had kept the weapon hanging at his side the entire time. He aimed through his magnified optic at the high-flying Variant and squeezed off a round. Nothing happened. It was too far away.
“Shit,” Shader hissed as he lined up for a second try.
The SEAL slowly let out his breath and squeezed the trigger again. The bullet rocketed skyward but was, once again, ineffective.
“Damn it!” He continued to track the creature through his magnified scope. “Just a few hundred yards closer, and I’d have a shot…”
The soaring monster evaporated, followed closely by the unmistakable chatter of a 20mm cannon firing. The sound made by the SuperCobra’s M197’s rotating barrel had always been comforting to Shader, and today was no exception.
He looked above and watched as the remaining insectoid creatures suddenly turned away and fled back to land. Everly began to hunt the flock of monsters that were trying to escape, but they scattered. He managed to take out a half dozen before they made it to shore and found shelter.
Everly rushed over the Oceanside beach. The Variants were at war with each other. Waves of the infected streamed from the south, clashing with a huge surge from the north. The creatures were so thick that Everly flew for nearly a mile before he could look down and see spacing between the bodies.
The helicopter circled the massive battle, searching for any more of the flying creatures. With hundreds of thousands of the monsters swarming the land, it was a challenge to find any of the aerial Variants hiding on the ground. He couldn’t hover for long and had to keep moving quickly to avoid anything sneaking up on him.
After a few minutes, he gave up and returned to a defensive position, slowly circling over the offshore fleet. He finally was able to take a look at the destruction that had been wrought. Of the twelve craft that had left Avalon, only nine appeared to be in operation. Two of the out-of-commission craft were open-console fishing boats. Both floated listlessly with nothing on deck other than several large puddles of blood. The third was a forty-foot pocket cruiser. It had a lower deck where the crew may have taken shelter, but no one was at the helm. The nine remaining craft were under power, and Everly could see at least one person moving about on each boat.
With a final sweep of the skies, Everly radioed back to the convoy.
“Carver. This is Viper One. Do you copy?”
“Good to hear your voice, Viper One…” Carver replied.
Carver
SR 76
Rincon
Carver listened to Everly’s report. His face slowly morphed from concern to anger. “Hard copy, Viper One. Hold for instructions.”
He sighed and turned to Gavin. “There was an attack on the boats from Catalina. Looks like we lost three of the ships. Everly said there’s a war going on between two of the Variant factions. They’re everywhere, so Oceanside is a bust.”
“How did they get to the boats? Did they try and dock?”
“No. Those flying bastards are back, and, apparently, they’ve had a lot of offspring.”
Gavin shook his head. “What do we do now?”
“Alternate pickup is Dana Point, but I don’t even know if we have enough boats now to get everyone to the island. Not only that, I don’t like the roads we need to take to get up there. We’d have to go inland through Temecula or take Interstate 5 through Camp Pendleton,” Carver said. “Either way, we know both areas are thick with Variants.”
“Sir, could you send the helicopter and see which way is clear?” Pito asked.
He was the only other passenger in the HUMVEE, other than Gavin and Shrek. The seat behind Carver, as well as the back of the HUMVEE, was loaded with supplies headed for the island.
“Yeah, I could,” Carver said, “but I don’t know if that’ll make a difference. The damned things usually stay indoors. Why they’re out now is beyond me. All in all, I think today is a no-go. I’ll let Shader know that we’re aborting the mission.”
Carver grabbed the satellite phone and punched the programmed button to contact the flotilla. “Shader, I think we need to abort.”
“No. We’ve come this far. I don’t want to do this again. Those damn flying things nearly killed us all. Right now, they’ve retreated. I want to press that advantage, and I sure don’t want the delay to make us lose our air support.”
Shader was right. Not only were the flying Variants hiding now, but they had no idea how long they could rely on having Everly covering them from above. With their fuel deteriorating, this could be his last flight.
“We will meet you at the secondary pick-up?” Shader asked.
“Dana Point. See you in a few. I’ll contact you when we’re thirty mikes out.”
“Good copy, Carver. Talk with you then. Shader, out.”
Charlie
Oceanside, CA
It had been six months since Charlie, or what used to be Charlie, had joined the Variants. The horde had many social levels, mostly due to brute strength. There was one other way into the group’s upper tier. It was using residual intelligence to become valuable to their leader. Charlie was one of those few that had been blessed with that gift.
He’d trained many of his infected brothers on the use of weapons. Some got it, most didn’t. Those that possessed superior strength and the ability to use weapons were given the highest priority. They became their leader’s personal guard. They now numbered in the hundreds.
Their alpha was constantly expanding his territory. Land meant food, and his growing kingdom needed as much as they could find. The prior half year had been a string of successful conquests. They’d expanded their territory, and each clan they conquered added to their ranks. Often, the alpha would rush in and kill his opposing commander, effectively ending the fight. Other times, the superiority of their weapons led to mass slaughter, which was fine by Charlie. Dead bodies meant a full stomach.
A few days ago, they came across a new group. The battle was quick and decisive, but some escaped. Those that got away went back and warned their clan. They now faced the massive horde.
Charlie was at the redheaded Variant’s side, surrounded by hundreds of armed minions that were chosen and groomed for their size and speed, along with their ability to wield a weapon.
They stood on top of a large building. It was a former hotel that used to cater to the families of Marines who were stationed at nearby Camp Pendleton. Now, it gave them a broad view of the battle to their north. Charlie stood to the side, clenching his long-bladed weapon while his knife was tucked at his side, held in place by his deteriorating belt.
The redh
eaded Variant intently scanned the enemy’s forces. As always, he sought out his opposite. There was always a leader with any substantially sized group, and this new horde rivaled his own.
The slaughter playing out in front of them was on a scale that Charlie wouldn’t have been able to imagine before the virus turned him. Tens of thousands were being butchered on both sides. The roads were covered in torn corpses and disease-ridden blood. Instead of being horrified, Charlie saw flesh being harvested as the horde tore each other apart. The idea of failure was incomprehensible to his infected mind, and he anticipated that a full belly of enemy protein would soon come his way.
Searching the distant battleground, the redheaded alpha grunted when he saw a large Variant surrounded by a group of healthy, aggressive creatures. The giant monster was covered by piercings and crude tattoos while most of its appendages had metal items impaled through its infected flesh. It was the enemy’s leader.
The redheaded alpha roared and leapt down from his perch. The rest of his guards followed him down the walls of the former hotel and joined their king as he galloped toward the distant, metal-pierced creature. Each of the Variants running with the pack carried an edged weapon of some type.
Charlie’s weapon had a name, but like many fleeting thoughts that bubbled under his virus-laced consciousness, it failed to rise up enough to become a thought. The pain of thinking soon washed away as they hit the battle’s front line.
The guards began slashing with their weapons, opening a gap in the wall of the enemy. Most had shorter weapons, which gave them a slight advantage over the talons and teeth of their foes. A few of the enemy slipped through the gauntlet and tried to get to the alpha, but Charlie was always there, his long blade slicing through any that got close. With each kill, Charlie turned to the alpha and received an appreciative grunt. Their leader needed to save his energy for the coming fight.
The group moved slowly, but inexorably, through the battle line. Several of the guards fell, but most survived and pressed on, bringing their giant leader closer to the opposing monster.
Extinction Survival Series | Book 4 | Warrior's Fate Page 8
