Extinction Survival Series | Book 4 | Warrior's Fate

by Browning, Walt

  They had smelled the human well before they saw him. A single man was within the wooden cave. They waited in the tall grasses for the clan to gather. Once they were together, the alpha led them forward.

  They approached the man from behind. Its shelter blocked the human from seeing their approach. As they crept forward, the scent of hundreds in the nearby woods wafted past their noses. The small horde became agitated. It was getting difficult to control them. One creature began to move toward the sounds and smells of the humans just beyond the tree line. Escondo had to grasp it by the neck, reminding it who was the king. They would all attack as one. But first, the clan had to kill the creature in the cave. Two of them went forward. Once that one was dead, the rest of the humans would be theirs.

  The sound of a dog’s bark broke Escondo’s focus.

  It was that cursed animal that ran with the Carver. It would recognize that sound anywhere. Anger filled Escondo’s head. It became agitated. It became enraged.

  Two shots rang out. Then silence. Just as the human went down under its minion’s claws, Escondo raced off in a demented rage toward the cries of the creature called Shrek. Where there was Shrek, there was the Carver.

  The rest of the clan kept moving forward toward the woods, following the scent of their prey. One of them grabbed the dead human as it passed by the corpse. It would make a good meal later. But now, they were going to attack the human colony. They’d kill or capture them all. There would be food for a long time.

  It was time for revenge.

  It was time for death.

  — 26 —

  Yeah, the devil’s coming, yeah, the devil’s coming

  Heaven knows he’s coming after me.

  “The Devil’s Coming”

  — Sixx:A.M.

  Lazzaro’s laugh carried across the field. Both of his companions had been drinking since lunch, and their behavior reflected that fact. Gonzalez tried to ignore the scene they were making, as were the rest of the families around him. He placed the cooked ribs on the grill. They needed to get a nice bark on the outside from the custom rub he’d just applied.

  A drunken howl rolled across the picnic area. One of the women with Lazzaro had fallen to the ground, and the other two were belly laughing.

  “I have to pee,” the prone girl snorted.

  The second girl staggered over and helped her up. They both moved unsteadily toward the woods, a wad of napkins in each of their hands.

  Lazzaro turned and looked at Gonzalez, giving him a shrug of his shoulders. The diminutive Marine just shook his head and returned his attention to the grill. The ribs needed more flavor and getting a bark on the outside without overcooking the meat would require precise timing.

  He poked the center of one of the racks with his fork. It was still moist. He used the fork to lift the slab off the grill and checked the outer flesh. The bark looked good. He flipped the racks and began the final burn before serving them.

  Gonzalez put the fork down and grabbed a bottle of mead. It was his second of the day. It didn’t taste like the lagers he had been used to, but it was cold and went down well enough. He lifted the bottle and began to tilt it when he heard two gunshots from the front of the camp.

  He dropped the bottle to the ground and grabbed his battle rifle.

  “Tara! Kelly! Get back here!” Lazzaro yelled into the nearby tree line.

  “We’re almost done,” one of them called back.

  “Now! Get out here now!”

  “Hold on!” one shouted.

  Gonzalez turned to bark orders, but he saw that the entire camp had mobilized. The families rushed to the center of the field. Parents had their weapons out and ready as they surrounded the old and young. The perimeter was complete by the time one of the girls staggered out of the woods.

  “Come on, Tara!” the blonde yelled back.

  “I’m com—” The girl’s words were cut short, replaced with a scream.

  The blonde froze and Lazzaro rushed to her. He pointed his rifle into the trees with his right arm and grabbed the girl with his left. He dragged her back just as a Variant landed on the tree line’s threshold.

  It was a large creature with its yellow eyes sparkling from the reflection of the party’s fires and torch lights.

  The blonde girl tripped as Lazzaro pulled her back. He grabbed her hair and yanked her along. The terrified woman didn’t seem to notice, as her eyes were fixed on the monster that was crouched just yards away.

  The surreal scene played out with Lazzaro the only thing moving after the Variant first appeared. The crackling of the fires and the scraping noise of the blonde girl’s heels being pulled through the dirt were the only sounds as the monster surveyed the camp’s population.

  Then, the rest of the Variant horde materialized from the darkness. There were dozens, all lined up at the edge of the forest. First their faces appeared, gradually followed by the rest of their mutated bodies. Like a nightmare rising from an inky black pond, the Variants slowly slid into the campfires’ light.

  “Lazzaro, down! NOW!” Gonzalez howled.

  The tall Texan dropped to the ground just as a collective roar came from the Variant horde. Staying low, Lazzaro continued dragging the girl away from danger while aiming his M4 at the monsters.

  Gonzalez didn’t need to give any orders. The camp was ready, every member having been trained on protocols and all with years of experience in the Variant-infested world. Out of the corner of his eye, Gonzalez saw the Reedy boys move to flank and take a sitting position. Brett and Hanna stood behind them and lined up their rifles, as well.

  Parents pressed their children to the ground as they swung their own weapons up, aiming back at the snarling horde. Gonzalez didn’t know how many weapons had been brought to bear. No matter how many they had, it was going to have to be enough.

  The creatures let out one final, animalistic scream and rushed forward. The ground shook as the they approached, many of them running on all four limbs.

  The camp replied.

  Hundreds of battle rifles and handguns spit their lead back at the creatures. The disfigured abominations were slammed by 9mm pistol and 5.56 rifle rounds. Lazzaro was close enough to watch their flesh erupt as bullets entered their bodies. Several times, an explosion of black-speckled gore mushroomed out their backs as the bullet exited, taking bone, flesh, and blood with it.

  Still, they kept coming.

  The closer they got to the humans, the more accurate the fire became. Within seconds, one or two Variants dropped. A head shot or shattered limb sent them tumbling to the ground. Roars of anger and pain continued as the Variant line advanced.

  Then came the dogs.

  Dozens of them rushed forward, attacking the creatures that had made it through the initial lead gauntlet. For years, the camp had been raising the animals to protect their families. Many were Shrek’s progeny and carried his instinct to attack.

  In war, a stationary target is a dead target and the canines stopped the enemy’s rush just a dozen yards from Lazzaro. Most of the dogs were shredded by the Variants’ long claws, but the canine sacrifices were not in vain.

  Every time a Shepherd or Doberman reached a Variant, the monster would stop to deal with the threat. It was then riddled with bullets. Dozens of slugs hit the creatures, finding a spine, leg, or brain. When the cordite and gunpowder smoke finally cleared, next to every dead dog lay a downed Variant. The canines’ sacrifices meant life for their masters and their families.

  The horde was destroyed.

  With nothing moving on the battlefield, Gonzalez yelled for a cessation of fire. Lazzaro raised himself from the ground and waved back to his friend. He pulled the blonde to her feet and pushed her toward the human line.

  The Texan turned back to the Variants and did a quick tactical magazine swap, putting the partially fired mag into his pocket and replacing it with a full one. Then he slowly advanced on the downed monsters.

  “Keep a perimeter,” Gonzalez called out. “G
reen Team, on me.”

  Gonzalez and several other warriors rushed out and formed a line across the field. They moved forward and put a security shot into each creature’s head.

  “Hey G-man. Check this out.”

  “Green Team, hold position,” he commanded before joining Lazzaro.

  The Texan pointed at a one-armed creature that was on the ground. Its spine had been torn by the gunfire. It was paralyzed but alive, its eyes blazing with hatred and hunger. Its tongue snapped at the men until Lazzaro put a bullet into the creature’s head.

  “Yeah. What of it?” Gonzalez said.

  “Check out its waist.”

  The Variant’s degenerating leather belt held a knife.

  “What the hell!” Gonzalez muttered. Then he looked closer and noticed the Borrego Springs Resort label still sewn into the fabric.

  “Didn’t Hope work there?” Lazzaro asked.

  “Yeah. What are the odds? You think she knew him?”

  “We should ask her.” Lazzaro scanned the crowd with his eyes. “Where is Hope?”

  “She and J.K. are at Beckham getting dessert ready.”

  “Where’s Carver and Kinney?” Lazzaro added.

  They gave each other a terrified look just before they heard a woman’s muffled scream in the distance.

  “Hope,” Gonzalez hissed before yelling to his squad. “Green Team, on me!”

  Both Marines and Green Team sprinted to Beckham Hall. As the men approached the silent building, they saw the screen door had been ripped from its hinges. They lined up and pushed inside. Nothing greeted them in the giant space other than a trail of blood that led back out the door they’d just breached.

  Hope and J.K. were gone.

  — 27 —

  Should’ve known, I’d leave alone

  Just goes to show; That the blood you bleed

  Is just the blood you owe

  We were a pair; But I saw you there

  Too much to bear; You were my life

  But life is far away from fair

  “No Time to Die”

  — Billie Eilish

  Hope heated the industrial stove. Supplies of propane were still plentiful, and she was grateful they didn’t have to use a wood-burning stove. Propane was so clean and quick, perfect for warming up the pies enough so the homemade ice cream would melt when it was placed on top.

  J.K. was playing with Shrek. The old dog did his best to entertain him, but its arthritis and advancing age kept the animal from enjoying the little guy. Hope could see its pain as it tried to play with her son.

  J.K. laughed and ran around the prep station, calling the dog to follow. Shrek made two circles before sitting down in defeat.

  Hope squatted down and rubbed the dog’s neck. When she stood back up, the Mal barked several times, demanding a treat for his efforts.

  Hope smiled and got a bowl. She scooped some ice cream into it and set it down on the floor. Shrek greedily lapped up the sweet, cool dessert. He had to chase the bowl across the floor as his tongue pushed it over the tile. He was going to lick up every last drop.

  He finally raised his head and gave Hope a contented grin.

  Hope smiled. There was so little time left for the old guy, and it was nice to see the Mal happy.

  She had turned to check the pies when the double doors to the kitchen flung open, crashing against the walls to the side. It was a Variant. A massive, redheaded creature with claws and fangs longer than she’d ever seen.

  She grabbed J.K. and froze.

  The monster turned to her and sniffed the air. Its face contorted into a hideous grin. It could smell the enemy on the humans who stood in front of it. It pointed at Hope and screeched.

  “Carver mate!”

  It advanced and Hope stumbled back. She felt for a large butcher’s knife she knew was on the table next to her. As soon as her fingers grazed the handle, she grasped it.

  The creature made a guttural noise that sounded like a wet laugh. Its lizard-like tongue snapped in and out of its mouth, spraying black-speckled spit across its face.

  It was salivating, and Hope knew what meal it expected to eat. She brought the knife up to defend her son. She didn’t care about herself as she pushed J.K. behind her body.

  The monster stepped forward, its eyes fixated on her. Hunger radiated from the yellow orbs as it snarled, exposing long, sharp fangs.

  It never saw the flash of grey-and-brown that hit it from the side.

  Shrek attacked. The old Mal rocketed forward. His jaws latched onto the monster’s flesh. The creature crashed against the wall as the dog’s momentum slammed into its side.

  Hope pushed J.K. around the prep table as the giant monster grabbed Shrek and flung him against the wall. It leapt at the Mal as he tried to pull himself up from the floor. Shrek barely missed being sliced in half by the giant’s sweeping blow. Instead, the war dog lunged forward and latched onto the monster’s face.

  The Variant roared and smashed Shrek in the side with the back of its hand. Shrek yelped but didn’t let go. It finally grabbed the dog with its claws. The knife-like nails raked across Shrek’s side, ripping his skin open. Shrek held his grip, but the monster was able to shake him off, flinging the Mal to the side. The dog still had the thing’s cheek between his teeth. It had been ripped from the infected creature’s face.

  Hope screamed when she saw the fatal wounds on Shrek’s side. She rushed forward and plunged the blade into the Variant’s arm. It snarled and smacked her with the back of its hand. She was unconscious before hitting the floor.

  J.K. rushed to Hope’s side. The giant Variant grabbed both mother and son, one in each hand, and rushed out of the building.

  Shrek raised his head just as the creature carried Hope and J.K. out of the room. He forced himself up and pursued, blood flowing from the wound to his abdomen and dripping onto the floor. He followed the acrid smell of the alpha into the adjacent, dark woods. He would not be denied.

  The sound of the Variant crashing through the brush was loud enough that Carver was able to home in on the creature’s movement. The monster was moving to his left, and he changed his angle to intercept the creature when it broke out into the next field.

  The night sky was clear and the air crisp as Carver came to the opening. He could hear the Variant break through the bushes then saw it emerge just yards away. The heavens gave him enough light to see the size of the creature. It was massive. He hadn’t seen anything that big since back at Coronado, when…

  The monster saw Carver and snarled.

  It was the alpha.

  Carver turned on the weapon’s mounted light and lined up his rifle.

  The monster squinted and roared at the bright beam.

  It was only then that Carver saw Hope and J.K., one in each hand. It pushed them in front to block the light and started to squeeze its two victims. His son let out a whimper as the creature tightened its fist.

  Carver pointed the weapon down, casting the creature back into darkness.

  “J.K.?” he whispered.

  The Variant laughed. “Carver mate.” It snarled, holding up its right fist, which grasped the limp figure.

  “Carver niño.” It held up the squirming child.

  The SEAL lost his breath, terrified that the monster would crush the two things he loved the most.

  It laughed again.

  “Kill Carver mate. Kill Carver niño. Kill Carver.”

  The SEAL froze, not knowing what to do. The monster still held his wife and child up in front of him, blocking a clean shot. He heard J.K. cry out again. Carver felt helpless as the monster began to crush the little boy.

  It never got the chance.

  A blur of fur appeared from the brush and latched onto the back of the creature’s neck. The dog’s fangs pierced the leathery, armored skin and latched into the thing’s neck.

  A jolt of electric pain shot through its limbs, and it dropped both humans into the grass at its feet. It spun around, trying to dislodge the
dog, but the Mal only clamped down harder.

  The Variant fell to its knees and reached back with its claws. It flailed its arms and got a yelp from the Mal. It struck the dog’s flesh again, but the animal wouldn’t let go.

  Shrek bore down with all his might and suddenly, the Variant spasmed. The dog’s canines sank deeper into the monster’s flesh and pierced its spine. The alpha collapsed to the side and rolled onto its back with Shrek underneath.

  The woods exploded with light.

  Gonzalez, Lazzaro, and the rest of the Green Team broke through the brush, their own weapons’ mounted flashlights bathing the field with intense, white beams.

  Hope was unconscious on the grass while J.K. was sitting nearby, crying.

  Carver ran to his son and did a quick assessment. He didn’t see any cuts. He slid over to Hope just as she started to recover.

  “Lights!” he yelled, receiving several bright beams that bathed him and his wife.

  Other than a large bruise on her cheek, she appeared to be intact.

  “Get Doc,” Carver ordered. “Have them checked out.”

  He let Gonzalez take over. It was too much to even think about his wife or child turning into one of those things. He preferred to think that his examination was correct, and they would be all right.

  Hope recovered enough to give Carver a horrified look.

  “It’s all right. J.K.’s safe,” he reassured her.

  “The monster?” she asked.

  Carver pushed back and gave her a view of the downed Variant. Shrek was still pinned underneath, his eyes moving to make contact with hers. She smiled at the Mal. The war dog seemed to grin back as it finally let go of the monster’s neck. The creature was still alive, its tongue continuing to flick about and its eyes blazing as it watched Carver.

  The SEAL got up and lifted the Variant’s massive shoulders. Gonzalez reached down and pulled the dog out. Carver dropped the creature back to the ground. Its head bounced before settling into the hard desert floor.