Before the Nothingness (The Great Blue Above Book 4)

by Kevin George

  Carla didn’t answer. Moretti shifted uncomfortably close, his eyes widening, their faces separated by inches. Carla tried looking away—even turning her attention to the drone that now hovered overhead—but Moretti didn’t budge. Carla finally shook her head.

  “Good,” he said.

  Moretti remained kneeling in front of her, reaching his hand back and snapping his fingers. A guard rushed forward and handed over a syringe filled with green liquid brighter than previous Blast dosages. Resigned to what was about to happen, Carla began to push up the sleeve on her right arm, exposing the area where she’d been injected four times already. But Moretti shook his head and shoved the needle into the side of her neck, pressing the plunger and pushing an entire new life into Carla’s bloodstream. . .

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Please, you have to let us go,” Samuel begged. “A huge mistake is about to happen to people you know.”

  Every time he stepped forward, the guards frowned but leveled their guns at the two Jonas prisoners. Had Samuel’s last name not been Jonas, he wasn’t sure how long the guards’ patience would’ve lasted. He backed up until bumping into the tunnel grate, where he and his son had been held captive for the longest hour of their lives.

  “The villagers are strangers to us now, like anyone else who survived outside of The Mountain,” one of the guards said. Though his words may have sounded firm and final, his eyes creased, showing he wasn’t quite as heartless as he tried to sound.

  “Why aren’t they listening?” Horace snapped.

  His tone had grown desperate and Samuel turned to his son, hoping to prevent Horace from doing something foolish. He was too late. Horace rushed forward, yelling for the guards to shoot him if they must, insisting nothing would stop him from warning the villagers about what was coming.

  “No, Horace, don’t—”

  The other guard reacted first, swinging the butt of his gun at Horace, smashing him directly between the eyes. Horace dropped to the floor, all strength sapped from his legs, his vision flashing to black. He heard his father call out his name, but it suddenly sounded like the others were on the far side of the huge hangar.

  Samuel hurried to his son’s side, helping him lean back against the grate. Horace grimaced and grabbed his head, wiping away a line of blood running down the bridge of his nose. He struggled to focus his vision but when he finally did, the kinder of the two guards crouched a few feet away.

  “I’m sorry about that—we both are—but we have a job to do,” he whispered. “The Board warned us to treat potential traitors a certain way and—”

  “Traitors?” Samuel snapped at him. “Do you realize who you’re—”

  “We know who you are,” the other guard said from a few feet back, his gun raised though his brow was furrowed.

  “We’ve seen what happens to the wives and daughters of those who don’t survive, and that includes loyal guards,” the closer guard said. “I’m grateful for you and your father and The Mountain, but we can’t let anything bad happen to our families. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to wait here until we receive our next orders.”

  The guard frowned but stood back up and joined his partner, both of them looking toward the far side of the hangar. Natural light still shone from the massive opening and a cold breeze made it all the way to the opposite end of the hangar door, but there’d been little noise or activity since the vehicles rolled out.

  Horace fought through the pain stabbing inside of his head. He tried to stand but lost his balance. When Samuel placed a steadying hand on his son’s shoulder, Horace shrugged it away and stared up at the two guards.

  “A lot of families are being threatened in the village,” Horace muttered. “A lot of. . . loved ones.”

  The guards remained frowning, but neither said a word. Samuel knelt beside his son and whispered an apology, but Horace didn’t respond. Instead, he turned and looked into the darkness of the tunnel beyond the grate, breathing in the smell of dirt. Though most of the tunnel’s construction had been completed, he still recalled how the concrete floor and walls had abruptly ended near the entrance to The Mountain.

  “Yes, I’m here,” one of the guards suddenly said, tapping his earpiece before scurrying a few feet away. Horace considered taking this opportunity to attack, but he doubted he could stand straight let alone fight, and the second guard remained fully alert. “Understood.”

  The other guard showed back up and whispered something into his partner’s ear. Neither man spoke before the echo of footsteps approached a few minutes later. Samuel expected to see Moretti or more guards or one of his enemies from The Board, but it was the least likely Mountainer who emerged from the parking lot of covered vehicles.

  Dr. Weller nodded his dismissal of the guards. The meaner guard gave the two Jonases a final long look before joining the other guard hurrying away. Samuel glared at Weller, only looking away when Horace struggled to stand.

  “What did you tell them about the Aviary?” Samuel asked.

  “Exactly what was needed to ensure I wasn’t imprisoned, too,” Weller said softly. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them our part. I just showed them the progress I made so far with the test subjects.”

  “But that’ll make them want the Aviary for themselves,” Samuel said.

  “Not after what happened in the boardroom,” Weller said. “I explained there are still kinks to work out in the injection process. I do apologize, though. I had to blame you for the secrecy to make sure they trusted me. That’s how I was able to convince Martin to let me come down to retrieve you. You need to be patient and not do anything foolish. The guards are still nearby, watching. But I swear to you I’ll do everything possible to make sure you’re not—”

  “The new Blast,” Horace interrupted. “We have to stop them from dispersing it before it’s too late.”

  Weller frowned. “I’m sorry, kid, but it is too late. I just came from watching drone footage of what’s happening in ISU-Ville. It’s. . . ugly.”

  “Ugly? In what way?” Horace asked.

  “You don’t want to know,” Weller said.

  Horace stumbled forward. Weller shook his head and motioned toward the guards’ silhouettes among the covered objects, but Horace didn’t care.

  “Try me,” Horace said.

  “It’ll do you no good to know specifics,” Weller said. “Better to forget that part of your life forever. I’m sorry if there were people you cared about at the village, but we need to use the chaos of this situation to our advantage.”

  As if on cue, they heard the echo of yelling at the far end of the hangar bay. The two guards showed up moments later and insisted the three men follow them. As they weaved their way through the hangar, the echoes became louder and more frantic. Horace tried desperately to find the right moment or place to slip away from the group, but the guards kept a close watch on him and Samuel held tightly to his arm, making sure he didn’t do anything risky.

  They reached the open hangar door in time to see a snow truck slipping and sliding across the snow as it approached The Mountain. Samuel peered toward the outside world for any sign of the other vehicles that had left, but he only saw the White Nothingness stretching far into the distance. He nearly turned his attention to the vehicle when his eyes spotted an indiscernible white blur that blended almost perfectly into the white background. He squinted, trying to focus on what it could be, suddenly flashing back to the horrors of the boardroom. . .

  “Close the door! Now!” Samuel yelled, releasing his son’s arm and rushing forward.

  Most of the guards turned to him in confusion, but the two tasked with watching him quickly intercepted him.

  “You don’t understand! It’s getting closer!” Samuel yelled, pointing outside.

  The snow truck didn’t slow down as it entered The Mountain, causing several guards to dive out of its way. The truck skidded across the hangar, smashing into another parked vehicle. The driver’s door swung open and Moretti stumb
led out, breathless and wide-eyed, his clothing in tatters. Through the truck’s open door, everyone could see the lifeless, bloodied body of another guard.

  “Close The Mountain! Close. . . The. . . Mountain!” Moretti screamed, his voice high-pitched. “Guard the entrance!”

  The guards rushed to action. Clang ran to the hangar’s control station, hurrying to push the button to close the massive door. The rest of the guards ran to the entrance and formed a line, raising their weapons as the door slowly began to lower, a harsh squealing echoing throughout the hangar. Samuel and Horace craned their necks to see outside, where the single blur of white movement had multiplied into three blurs. . . four blurs. . . five blurs. . . all of them streaking toward The Mountain’s entrance.

  Horace shook his head over and over, while Samuel stood completely still, watching with his jaw set.

  “How could we have let this happen?” Samuel whispered.

  “I must’ve overcompensated for the lack of longevity in previous dosages,” Weller said with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter now. We need to get out of here while we can. ISU-Ville is no longer an option, but there’s one place far away from The Mountain where your last name might still hold a lot of value.”

  The hangar door closed before the first blur reached it. Sighs were shared among the guards as the tension eased. Samuel reached out to grab his son when a loud bang echoed from the other side of the massive metallic door, startling the guards closest to it. Frightened whispers spread among the guards, many of whom remained in formation, facing the door with their guns raised.

  “Ain’t nothing getting through that door,” Clang said with a chuckle.

  As weapons were lowered and sighs were breathed, another loud bang sounded, followed by another and another and another. All eyes remained on the door except for Weller’s. He grabbed Samuel and Horace and pulled them toward the tunnel entrance while the guards’ attention was elsewhere. Horace stared blankly at the door and allowed himself to be dragged back, but Samuel’s eyes found the unguarded stairwell and he pulled free from Weller’s grasp.

  “Is there any Aviary Blast left?”

  “Of course, an entire batch for my research,” Weller said. “But don’t worry, it’s stored somewhere safe.”

  “Your lab?”

  “We don’t have time for a hundred questions,” Weller said, bang after bang continuing on the hangar door. “They’re going to tire themselves out soon.” But Samuel didn’t budge and Weller sighed. “Don’t worry, The Board won’t find it. I stored it somewhere they’d never suspect.”

  “We can’t take that chance,” Samuel said. “If The Board did what they did with the 2.0, imagine what they could do with the Aviary.”

  Dr. Weller’s jaw set as he stared at the corpse slumped in the blood-spattered vehicle, the outside of which was covered with long, deep scratch marks.

  “I’m not going to talk you out of this, am I?” Weller asked.

  Samuel shook his head.

  “Even if you end up getting caught again?”

  Samuel shook his head again.

  “Fine, but I can’t help if the guards show up and I might be forced to apprehend you myself. . . at least until I can figure out a way for us to get out of here later,” Weller said.

  Samuel frowned, but nodded.

  “One last thing,” Weller said, pointing to Horace. “He can’t come. It’ll be hard enough to avoid suspicion with you by my side, let alone dragging a third wheel with us. Hopefully Moretti and The Board are too focused on what’s happening down here and ISU-Ville to think about us.”

  “I can help,” Horace said. “Please, Father, I don’t think separating is the best—”

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen to us,” Weller said, grabbing Samuel’s wrist tightly. “And I don’t think it’s wise to put both Jonases in danger. . . together. . .”

  Samuel nodded and Weller told them he’d be right back.

  “Why are you listening to him?” Horace asked. “I know you don’t trust him.”

  “Nigel is right, this is for the best,” Samuel said. “Some of his decisions in the name of scientific advancement have been. . . questionable. But we don’t have a wealth of allies and he did come for us.”

  “What about that?” Horace asked. He nodded toward Weller, who was standing beside the more sympathetic of the two grate guards, whispering as if they were old friends.

  “Nigel knows what he’s doing. . . he and I have been in this together for years,” Samuel said. “Once we destroy what we need to and get into the tunnel, we’ll stop at the ISU and go to the surface to check on your girlfriend. Maybe she turned down the Blast. . . or maybe she hid once trouble started. . .”

  Horace barely managed a nod. The thought of Carla among the beasts. . . or becoming a beast herself. . . He tried to share his father’s optimism, but he knew, deep down, that he’d never see Carla again, especially not the way he’d once known her. He turned to Weller and the guard whispering to each other as banging and clanging continued at the door. They hurried over moments later.

  “Keep the Jonas boy down here, but do it quietly,” Weller said.

  “That’s not what I was ordered to do,” the guard said. “I was supposed to capture both Jonases and—”

  “Do you hear that?” Weller snapped, before pointing toward the open door of the nearby snow truck. “And do you see that? Sam Jonas helped me create the Blast that turned those villagers into monsters and now he’s going to help me figure out a way to stop them. Unless you want your family to be sent outside to feed the beasts’ cravings. . .”

  The guard’s eyes widened and then narrowed, unable to decide whether to be worried or angry. Either way, his lips drew taut and he nodded a single time. Weller headed for the stairs and Samuel followed, but not before looking back at his son a final time, forcing a reassuring smile at him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The clanging of the hangar door echoed up a dozen levels of the stairwell, fading little by little until Samuel’s heavy breathing eventually drowned it out. Had they taken the elevator, they would’ve reached their destination by now, but they couldn’t take the chance of being spotted by security monitors. Samuel tried to keep pace with Weller, but the scientist took the stairs two at a time and soon had a multi-level lead on him. When Weller realized how far ahead he was, he stopped to wait, hissing for Samuel to hurry.

  “So where. . . where is the. . . Aviary hidden?” Samuel asked between gasps.

  “The highest level,” Weller said, continuing up the stairs but moving slower this time.

  “In one of the prison cells?”

  “Not quite.”

  Weller’s eyes darted from side to side and he muttered about The Board placing cameras all over the place. When they reached the security level, Weller stopped and placed his eye against the retinal scanner.

  “Wait,” Samuel said. “What are you doing? They’ll see us.”

  Weller shook his head. “Moretti is below and half of the guards were wiped out. The security center should be a ghost town. We need to check the cameras in case there are guards anywhere we’re going.”

  “But—”

  Weller opened the door before Samuel argued further. Samuel hesitated, tempted to take off, but he knew he couldn’t destroy any of the Blast research on his own. They crept across the security center, the stairwell entrance in a darkened corner of the massive room. As Weller predicted, the few workers present were completely engrossed in their holographic images. Samuel tried to keep his head turned away from them, but he couldn’t stop from glancing at exterior views of The Mountain, where the Blasted villagers continued to run and leap toward the hangar door.

  Weller stopped at a workstation in a quiet corner. His fingers danced through the holographic menu system and he pulled up image after image from The Mountain, showing a general lack of guards in all of the important areas.

  “Looks like all is clear,” Samuel said. “Can we get out of here
before anyone spots us?”

  “Just one more thing,” Weller said.

  He accessed the archives for the drones’ video footage, selecting the newest file from an hour earlier. Weller fast-forwarded the footage, slowing it down once the drone reached the village. A line of snow trucks was parked in front of a crowd of pathetic villagers. Moretti stood in front of several dozen guards, all of whom kept their guns raised at the crowd. A single female villager knelt in front of Moretti, who loomed large above her. Samuel recognized the woman right away. He’d never actually met Carla Corrigan, but he’d done plenty of research on the love of his son’s life. He couldn’t suppress a gasp as Moretti shoved the first injection of 2.0 into the side of her neck.

  What am I going to tell Horace? Samuel immediately thought, wondering if it would be worse to lie to his son about Carla’s fate or just not mention it. He’ll get himself killed trying to avenge her if he finds out. . .

  “Why are we watching this?” Samuel hissed, angry that Weller forced him to witness Carla’s fate.

  “To see if everyone reacted to the 2.0 the same way,” Weller said.

  “We’re wasting time for your curiosity?”

  “Not for my curiosity, for scientific purposes.”

  Samuel was about to keep arguing when he watched Carla crumble to the snowy ground, her body shaking for a few seconds before going still. The rest of the villagers began to back away until the guards stepped forward, their weapons raised. Samuel couldn’t hear what the guards were saying, but it was obvious from the crowd’s reaction that they were being told to remain still.

  Moretti and the guards surged forward. Moretti barked something at his men, each of whom reached into their pockets to remove syringes filled with Blast 2.0. They stepped around Carla’s downed form without a care for what had happened to her. Even Samuel had nearly forgotten about her, at least until her body began to spasm and her parka ripped from her body. She leapt to her feet and dove at the nearest guard, ripping the man to shreds as the others scattered around her.