Extinction Cycle Dark Age (Book 3): Extinction Ashes

by Smith, Nicholas Sansbury

  Pete would have no problem punishing a teenager by death, even if it was Nick’s own daughter, for the words of a heretic.

  “Dad, are you going to be home for a while?” Lily asked.

  “Hopefully for at least a few days,” he said.

  Lily looked down in despair.

  It took him a few seconds to realize she was staring at the bloodstains on his pants and boots. Her gaze flitted to the blood on his chest.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked.

  Nick sighed. His daughters and wife knew he was a soldier. They understood what he did, but it didn’t make what he had to say any better.

  “I’m okay,” he said. “But Alfred didn’t make it home this time.”

  Diana gasped. “What?”

  “I tried to save him, but…” Nick said. “He was too hurt. There wasn’t anything we could do.”

  Or was there? Nick wondered.

  The memory of leaving Alfred on the road replayed in his mind.

  He checked his watch. “I’m sorry, we’ll talk more later. I’ve got to go now.”

  Nick hugged his wife and told his daughters he would be back soon. Then he headed for the command room. Pete was already there with a few other staff members in charge of the comms and security.

  “Got some good news,” Pete said. A shit-eating grin formed on his face. The biggest grin Nick had seen in all the years he had been here.

  “A New God general is coming here,” Pete said. “Together, we’ll prepare for the final stage of the war.”

  — 14 —

  The afternoon sun glinted off the names inscribed on the bronze parapets surrounding the deep pools of the 9/11 memorial. Standing around the memorial were some of the veteran outpost soldiers and about one thousand of the civilians they were trying to protect. The other four thousand had remained in their buildings and underground.

  Everyone outside hung their heads for a moment of silence and prayer at Commander Amber Massey’s request.

  She stood in the bed of her black pickup truck. Her red hair danced in the cool wind blowing over the crowd.

  Fischer and Chase were among the mourners. The irony that they were around this hallowed memorial to honor the dead of last night’s battle was not lost on them.

  So many had given their lives in such a short amount of time. The Allied States was like a puddle in the Texas desert. It grew smaller and smaller with each passing second, and there was no rain or respite on the horizon.

  Massey scanned the tear-streaked, exhausted faces. “I know you’re all tired, and I know some of you want to abandon the outpost and try your chances out there.”

  Fischer saw some people nod.

  “You are free to leave if you’d like,” Massey said. “This is still the Allied States, a place built on the very Constitution and Bill of Rights that gave us the United States of America. That makes you free men and women.”

  Chase shot Fischer a glance, perhaps wondering if Fischer wanted to try their luck leaving.

  “I, for one, haven’t fought and bled for this outpost to give up,” Massey said. Her voice boomed with the self-assuredness of a seasoned military commander. “I plan on staying, to the end, whatever that may be, fighting for the sacred ground we stand on today.”

  “New Yorkers don’t run!” one man shouted.

  A few heads bobbed in agreement.

  “That’s right,” Massey said. “New Yorkers are some of the toughest people on the planet! When the terrorists hit the towers at whose bases we stand at now, what did people do? They ran back in to help the trapped and the injured!”

  “We always help our neighbors, even if we don’t like them!” a woman yelled.

  A few people laughed.

  Massey smiled at the woman. Then her expression grew serious. “Make no mistake. The enemy will return and they will hit us hard, but we will beat them back again and we will find a way to win this war.”

  Fischer thought of Tran and Meyer as the crowd held up their weapons into the air. The guard and engineer joined a long list of men in Fischer’s employment who had given their lives.

  But Tran was more than just an employee.

  He was a friend and confidante. Someone who had stood by his side since the death of his wife, serving him in his greatest time of need.

  “Stand with me and fight!” Massey yelled.

  The cheering grew louder. Outpost officers dispersed through the crowd, organizing teams to bolster the razor wire-topped walls and move weapons to new positions. Snipers marched off to the skyscrapers surrounding the outpost where they would find perches to give them a bird’s eye view of the apocalyptic urban ruin.

  “Do you think Tran’s still alive?” Chase asked.

  “I sure to God hope not,” Fischer said.

  “If he is, should we…” Chase spat on the ground. “I know finding him would be nearly impossible, but I would feel like a coward if we didn’t try.”

  “Me too, but we have no idea where to even start looking. The best thing we can do to honor Tran is keep fighting.”

  Chase dipped his head.

  Fischer put on his cowboy hat. “Let’s go see where we can help.”

  Massey had dismounted from the truck and stood at the end of a row of white oak trees with her back turned, looking out over the skyrises.

  “Commander,” Fischer said.

  She turned to face him and wiped at a tear rolling down her face.

  “We’re with you, Commander,” Fischer said.

  “I knew that already,” she said with a smile. “You’re a Texan. Texans don’t back down from a fight either. Remember the Alamo?”

  “Once again, our backs are up against the wall, but we either hold what we have left of this country or else we run across the Atlantic,” Fischer said. “This country, no matter what it’s been through, is my home and we’re happy to help where you need us.”

  Massey looked over her shoulder. “My people retrieved one surviving vibroseis truck, but we don’t know how to use it.”

  “What about the SDS equipment? Do you know if Team Ghost ever located it?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  The words filled Fischer with worry. Not only were they down to one truck, he wasn’t sure of the status of the SDS equipment that General Cornelius believed could change the war.

  “So just one truck left?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Chase looked at the ground. He was the only man from Fischer’s company still with him. All his engineers had died in last night’s attack. His stomach felt weak when he thought about what he was agreeing to do. His engineers were far better at operating the trucks, but they now had no choice.

  “I’ll operate the truck myself,” Fischer said.

  “Thank you.” Massey put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad we have you with us.”

  Fischer heard his wife’s voice in the back of his mind, telling him they should leave Lower Manhattan. Even in death, she was looking out for him. Every time he had heard her voice, he had almost died.

  “I’ll show you to the truck,” Massey said.

  She started walking, leading Fischer and Chase toward the northern wall.

  The outpost around them was alive with workers. Men and women sat at tables cleaning weapons. Others loaded magazines, and an assembly line hoisted crates of ammunition to machine gun nests.

  Fischer wondered how many bullets they actually had left.

  At least they still had the Bradley Fighting Vehicles positioned at the corners of the outposts. He saw an Apache, too, roosted atop a building just outside the memorial. They might have lost one of the M1 Abrams and an Apache last night, but they still had one left of both.

  She stopped when they reached the vibroseis truck. Fischer stepped into the filthy open cab of the truck, still stained with blood. It was a shitty place to die, but if this was his destiny, so be it.

  Better than being taken to the webbing-covered tunnels.

  And at least if th
ere was anything left of him, they could always bury him in Texas.

  Massey stepped away to listen to a call on her radio while Fischer prepared the electronics in the truck. Chase leaned in.

  “Anything else I can do to help?” Chase asked.

  Fischer shook his head. There wasn’t anything more Chase could do.

  This was on Fischer.

  A few minutes later Massey returned.

  “Got some interesting news,” she said.

  Fischer looked up from the controls. Maybe the SDS equipment was on its way here.

  “We’re going to have some company,” Massey said with a sly grin. “Might actually get some reinforcements after all.”

  ***

  “I knew when we found those locations, there would be a chance you would be investigating one.” Kate’s voice crackled over the satellite phone. “My work is putting your life at risk again.”

  Beckham stood in the lobby of the Fairmont Banff Springs hotel, thinking of what to say. Team Ghost was packing up their gear around him and making final preparations for their missions to search for the Master behind the monsters’ resurgence.

  “Reed?” Kate said. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry, it’s just… I don’t know any other way. Team Ghost needs help. We lost Mendez, Kate.” He paused, watching the disastrous chopper attack in his mind. “He was there one second, and then…gone.”

  A moment of silence passed between them.

  “I’m so sorry, Reed,” she said.

  “It’s time for Horn and me to really step up and fight in the stead of those who have fallen. Meg, Riley, Davis…now Mendez, Lincoln, Jake, Timothy, Bo, Donna…and so many others who have given their lives.”

  The list went on and on, dragging all the way to the first war, and Beckham let his words trail off. “If we don’t step up now, there won’t—”

  “I know,” Kate said, cutting him off. “The only way we can live together like a normal family again is to win this war. We all have to be willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.”

  Beckham knew this wasn’t going to just be him at risk, but hearing Kate acknowledge that made his heart flip. For that matter, she had put herself in harm’s way to complete her scientific work.

  “Are the kids okay?” Beckham asked. “And the dogs?”

  “They’re fine. They just miss you and Parker.”

  Beckham choked up a bit. God, he just wanted to hug Javier and Kate and Horn’s girls, who might as well be his adopted daughters. He wanted to toss a ball for Spark and Ginger to chase, and sit out on their deck at Peak’s Island to watch the sunrise while enjoying a coffee.

  But the only way to realize that kind of future was to face the evil lurking out there.

  “Trucks are coming,” called a Canadian soldier from the lobby entrance.

  A convoy of vehicles drove toward the circle driveway outside the hotel.

  “I got to go, Kate,” he said. “Be safe. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He almost hung up, but then heard her speak again.

  “Wait, Reed, are you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m still here.”

  “When this is over… I was thinking… Javier could use a brother or a sister.”

  Beckham smiled. “Yeah, he’d like that. So would I.”

  “Then make sure you come home in one piece. That’s an order, Captain.”

  He smiled wider. “I’ll see you soon, my love.”

  She hung up and Beckham handed the phone back to the Canadian officer who had lent it to him. Then he walked back to Team Ghost.

  “How is everyone?” Horn asked.

  “Good. The kids are doing just fine.”

  “And Kate?”

  “Okay.”

  “She doesn’t want us to go, does she?”

  Beckham shook his head.

  “I don’t blame her,” Rico said. “You guys already put your time in.”

  “Yeah, well, things have changed,” Beckham said. “You guys can’t get rid of us that easily. You’re stuck with me and Big Horn now.”

  Fitz glanced over as he packed his ruck, but he didn’t say anything.

  The team strapped on their packs and then huddled behind the big glass front door to the hotel. Snow fell in a blizzard-like torrent outside. Already a foot of it had accumulated on the hotel grounds.

  “God, I hate the cold.” Horn shoved his hands in his parka’s pockets.

  Beckham wrapped a scarf around his face, then zipped his parka up to his chin.

  For the past few hours they had rested and filled their stomachs, but there was one last thing to do before they once again parted ways: honor Specialists Lincoln and Mendez.

  “Everyone ready?” asked Prince. He had been on the radio making sure security was tight for the ride that would take them to their planned stop before heading to the aircraft that would take them back to the States.

  “Let’s go,” Fitz said. He opened the doors and stepped outside, a gust of wind slamming into the team.

  Beckham tried to keep his scarf up but the wind blew it loose, frigid air slicing through his beard. He pulled the scarf back up and followed Fitz down the stone steps to a convoy of three armored trucks and a white SUV with a brush guard. All the vehicles had chains over their tires.

  Team Ghost piled into the white SUV with Prince.

  The Canadian soldier behind the wheel drove down a road curving through the snow. With the sun hidden behind dark clouds and the relentless snowstorm, visibility was limited.

  Dohi had insisted they go somewhere where they had an expansive view of the mountains, lake, and forest surrounding them to say some final words for their fallen comrades.

  Prince said he knew just the place for a short ceremony, and it wasn’t far from the runway. They might not be able to find a view because of the snowfall, but all the same, Beckham thought it was important they found a decent spot to pay their respects.

  Lincoln and Mendez deserved a proper burial, but like so many others who had died in the line of duty, that just wasn’t possible.

  The Canadians were providing extra security for the ceremony and the takeoff, hence the three APCs driving along with them.

  The convoy drove over a road framed by six-foot-high snowdrifts.

  “Going to be twice as high by the time winter ends,” Prince said.

  A thick forest of pines appeared in the distance through the haze of snow. The mountains behind them cast a foreboding skyline. Jagged peaks lined the horizon like the teeth of a gigantic prehistoric animal.

  “This is the turn off,” Prince said.

  The driver followed the APCs. Through the screen of snow, Beckham could make out a lookout over a frozen lake. Picnic tables covered in snow protruded out of the drifts.

  Beckham imagined what this place was like in the past, when families came to enjoy a weekend or day in nature. But like most places in the world, this was now enemy territory. No one would eat a sandwich enjoying the view anytime soon, and that wasn’t just because of the snow.

  “Dohi, let’s make this quick, okay?” Beckham said. He didn’t want to be insensitive, but he had to say what needed to be said. They couldn’t afford to delay the mission or expose themselves to undue threats out here.

  “Understood,” Dohi said.

  The team stepped out into the howling wind. Canadian forces formed a perimeter around the picnic area with their rifles cradled. Prince remained close, but kept enough distance to give them some privacy.

  Dohi went to the edge of the lookout and bent down. He cleared a spot in the snow with a glove and then picked up some dirt.

  Beckham and Horn stood between Rico, Fitz, and Ace. They formed a half circle around Dohi. He rose to his feet and looked at the lake, then the mountains.

  “Before we part ways again, I wanted to spend a minute to honor the lives of Lincoln and Mendez,” he said. “My people are of a different faith, but we all share one very special thin
g—we come from the same place, and we return to the same place—ashes to ashes, dust to dust, as my Christian brothers might say.”

  He crumbled the frozen chunks of dirt in his hands and let them fall to the ground.

  “Amen,” Ace said.

  “Today I pray that the souls of our brothers reach whatever afterlife they believed in, far from the demons that ail Mother Earth,” Dohi said. “And with the aid of Mother Earth and Father Sky and all of the Holy People, I pray they find peace and sanctuary.”

  Dohi said something in Navajo, then fell into silence. When he finished, he performed a traditional ritual, pounding his chest, gesturing to the sky. Almost all of it was done in silence.

  Beckham bowed his head and prayed.

  A few minutes later, after dead silence, Dohi turned away from the mountains.

  “Thank you, Dohi,” Beckham said. “Anyone else want to say anything?”

  Fitz took a step out from the half circle. “Losing a brother or sister is what every leader fears. Mendez and Lincoln weren’t just brave warriors. They were loyal friends who sacrificed their lives so we could keep fighting.”

  Beckham knew exactly how Fitz felt, having experienced it countless times.

  “And that’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Fitz said, then looked to the sky, snow piling at his blades. “Until the end, and until we meet again.”

  “Damn right,” Rico said.

  “Mendez and Lincoln were just kids,” Ace said. “I’ll miss them breaking my balls and their jokes.”

  “I got this gut feeling they’re looking over us right now,” Rico said.

  Beckham brightened at the thought. He often felt his friends and loved ones were doing just that. Knowing they might still be watching out for him had gotten him through some very lonely, dark times.

  Prince walked over, his radio crackling.

  “Hate to interrupt, but…we got an issue near the highway,” he said. “Two bears have been spotted.”

  “You talking polar bears or some shit?” Ace asked.

  Prince shook his head. “Polar bears would be less of a threat. These bears are just the names we gave the Alphas. These beasts have adapted to the snow and cold. They’re as big as grizzlies, hairier, smarter, and a hell of a lot meaner.”