by JT Sawyer
He heard leaves rustling to his right and swung his AR towards the sound. Nash was lying twenty feet downhill, his hand reaching up. Reisner bounded down to his friend as Connelly covered him. He could see Nash’s torso was severely twisted to the right, while his legs were splayed in two different directions.
God—no!
He knelt down; his friend began coughing up blood as Reisner scooted closer to support his head. The right side of his face had shards of bone sticking up from the eye socket, and a steady stream of blood ran down his cheek.
“It’s OK, buddy—you just hang in there. Ivins is on the way, and we’ll—”
“Get out of here.” Nash reached out his arm, clutching Reisner’s hand. “Get the team and go,” he said in a bronchial voice as his throat gargled. “We had a good run all these years, didn’t we, amigo?”
Reisner felt like his heart was being torn from his chest as he surveyed the gruesome injuries along Nash’s body.
“Just hang in there, you hear me!” Reisner fought to get the words out.
“You will always be my friend, Will.” He coughed again, his face turning paler. Nash’s hand slid down Reisner’s vest and collapsed onto the ground as his chest slowly sank.
“No. No, goddammit, Nash.”
Connelly came up beside him, her lips trembling as she looked at Nash. She cleared her throat, her voice cracking. “Boss, we’ve gotta go. I already called Pacelle—the missile can’t be redirected.”
Reisner lowered Nash’s head. Her words sounded like they were coming from some distant valley a thousand miles away. He forced himself up, his eyes still transfixed on his friend.
“Go with Porter—help him get Gomez to the LZ,” he said robotically, his face becoming rigid. All of the missions, the suffering, and the senseless deaths he’d witnessed in so many cities since the pandemic rose to flood levels in his soul, tearing down the carefully constructed walls he’d cemented in place.
He turned towards Connelly. “Go,” he yelled at her, retrieving his pistol.
Reisner scanned the ground, locating the muddy tracks that led downhill towards the river. He trotted in a zig-zag formation until the terrain leveled out, then kept running along the trail until he got a glimpse of the first of three alphas ahead.
Reisner didn’t know if the creatures weren’t expecting anyone else to follow or if they were too intent on making their escape. Either way, he didn’t care as he fired his pistol, shattering the back of the skull apart. He increased his pace and shot the next one in the shoulder and neck. The remaining alphas scattered, disappearing into the brush. Reisner arced off the trail to the right, intercepting the first one. It sprinted ahead then button-hooked left. Reisner clenched his jaw as he lowered his pistol and fired into the torso, unleashing his rage as he emptied his magazine. Several rounds struck the beast in the hip socket, causing it to crash into a fallen log. The alpha struggled to stand, its eyes still filled with rage. Reisner slipped his last magazine into his Glock, not caring that he was nearly out of ammo and only focused on destroying every beast in the area. He shot it twice in the head then spun around to search for the last creature. It was already upon him, grabbing his wrists with both of its powerful hands while bearing down upon him, teeth gnashing. He could see the creature’s bloody knuckles and knew this must have been the one that killed Nash. Reisner felt a further surge of adrenaline coursing through him, coupled with murderous intent. There was no thought of self-preservation, or of his team, or anyone else in his life. It was pure unbridled rage erupting in him, like a wildfire raging through a parched forest. He stopped resisting the creature’s grasp, using it as leverage to slam his forehead into the face of the demonic beast. He heard something crack, unsure what it was but sensing the creature’s grip fading. He pulled back, seeing its nose crunched flat, and tugged his hands free. Reisner stepped back and squeezed the trigger on his Glock until the slide locked back. When the smoke had cleared, he saw its body splayed on the ground, its head and neck reduced to a pulpy mess of bone, tendon, and mangled parasite remains.
Reisner staggered back, his ears ringing from the constant din of gunfire. He heard Connelly’s faint voice in his ear-mic—something about Porter and Gomez at the LZ, awaiting Ivins’ arrival. She asked about his location, but he only yanked out his ear-mic and flung it off to the side of his vest. Reisner glanced down the trail towards the river and then resumed his forward march, his trot soon becoming a sprint as he tore through the loose brush ahead.
Chapter 34
Roland and the rest of his group had made it to the river, with Roland carrying his sister the entire way. They moved past a tangle of logs, beyond which was a small dock with two twelve-foot motorboats tethered to the sides. Nick motioned for Terrance to help him untie the one on the left side and push it into the water.
This will get us to the main branch of the Santee and then out to the coast, twenty miles from here, he said, looking at Roland.
Roland was astounded at the teenager’s decisiveness and determination, given that his transformation—his evolution—had only occurred hours ago. You are stronger than I am—that is good. And all of my memories and the tactical knowledge gleaned from our brood throughout the world are yours now.
Roland moved to the bank, setting his sister down in the stern of the boat. Abby was beginning to step inside, and Roland grabbed her wrist, nodding for her to stay put. No, you will remain behind. Retreat to the forest or somewhere safe and await my orders.
She looked at Nick, who seemed confused. She needs to come with us, he said. I’m not leaving her behind.
Roland turned swiftly, his mind needling into the boy’s. This is not about you. The survival of our kind—of the entire brood throughout the world—is at stake. She stays. I have other plans for her.
Roland felt Nick’s resistance, his mental walls struggling against his influence until Roland directed all of his brainpower towards exerting his will upon the boy. Nick climbed inside the boat, hastily yanking on the drawcord to start the engine. Roland winced, feeling a sharp dagger of pain in his mind as he felt Aiden’s death along with several other alphas in the area.
He released Abby’s wrist, pushing her away from the boat. Go, now, before the soldiers arrive.
Chapter 35
The Blackhawk had pushed its airspeed to the max as Ivins and his team raced to get to Jamestown. The approaching drone army had been greatly reduced by a UAV airstrike, which dispensed the bioagent over most of the creatures nearing Reisner’s location.
Arriving from the southwest, Ivins scanned the forest below, which was riddled with dead alphas and the bodies of what appeared to be a dozen civilians near the cabin. He thought he saw two bodies clad in tactical gear and felt his heart sink, knowing they could only be from Reisner’s team. God, this wasn’t a battle—it was a massacre.
There was still no indication that Roland had been located and killed, though all the signs pointed to him being at this location. There had better be something good that comes from all of this. He smirked at the term “good,” wondering what it even meant anymore.
The Blackhawk circled to the right, three hundred meters east of the cabin, descending towards a small meadow. Ivins saw Porter waving from the treeline, then heard the operator’s voice in his ear-mic, telling him that Gomez was injured and Nash and Wexler were dead.
As he and his team readied to land, he saw Connelly dart out from the treeline and head back into the forest. Shit—that must mean Reisner needs help. He clicked on his mic, informing her that the entire region was about to be incinerated, but he only heard static. As he watched her disappear into the trees, he shook his head. How many are we going to lose today?
Once on the ground, his team of SEALs fanned out around the helicopter as he rushed forward to help Porter and Gomez. Following on their heels was a Border Collie that had been crouching next to Porter. Ivins gave Porter a puzzled look.
“It belonged to the farmers,” Porter said as he gl
anced back towards the direction of the cabin then lowered his eyes.
Ivins helped get Gomez on board then looked back at the dog, who was lying flat in the grass, just outside the range of the air turbulence from the helicopter. Ivins hunched down and trotted back, grabbing the dog by the collar and hoisting it up into his arms. “You’ve suffered enough today, boy—let’s get you the hell out of here.”
Chapter 36
Reisner bounded down the trail that skirted along the river, finally coming to the dock, where he saw three figures through the thick tangle of maple trees. One was the burnt female, who sat slumped at the back of the boat, while the others were two teenage boys. The younger one appeared to have tumors all over his neck and looked paler than the other, whose muscular frame filled the front seat. Reisner balled his fist, thinking that Roland must have fled.
He quietly pushed through the branches, his Glock extended, ignoring Pacelle’s faint voice in the earpiece dangling by his shoulder that the cabin was about to be incinerated.
He paused once he had a clear field of view and centered his gunsights on the boat’s engine. His vision was obscured as Roland leapt through the air, knocking him in the chest with his fist as he landed. Reisner was flung back into a tree, his body feeling like he had been smashed by a bowling ball at center mass. He gasped, sure several of his ribs were broken. Wincing, he reached down for his pistol just as Roland rushed forward. He shot his last two rounds at the beast, but his aim was off, sending the 9mm bullets into the upper right pec. Roland careened to the left, slowing down long enough for Reisner to turn over and try to crawl away. His back didn’t cooperate, and he found himself clawing at the ground to gain traction. Reaching for a fist-sized rock, he pulled himself up to it, then he felt himself being lifted into the air. Roland grabbed him by the back of his vest and held him like a fisherman marveling at his catch.
Roland’s jet-black eyes stared at him, scanning the contours of his face. “You have killed many of my brood here and in other cities around this country. I have seen your face through the eyes of many of my kind before they died—now it is your turn.”
“It doesn’t matter; we won’t stop coming at you until you are all destroyed.” Reisner struggled to push out the words.
“Your kind created us. Now you want to destroy what you cannot control—and what you fear.”
“What happened with the virus was a mistake—one that we will soon correct.” He looked up at the blue sky, welcoming the thought of it turning into a ball of flame in the next few minutes.
“The virus was a means of correcting the imbalance in the world, as all viruses do. Our kind was meant to flourish while yours must be extinguished. Extinction is the rule of nature, and man’s time has come.”
Roland reached his other hand up to Reisner throat, straddling his windpipe. He saw Roland’s body violently twist to the right, his nearly translucent face grimacing as a series of bullets tore through his neck and shoulders from Connelly, who was approaching from the left. Reisner clutched the rock in his hand, slamming it into the alpha’s head, causing his skull to crack above the ear. Roland dropped Reisner on the ground as a spray of worms and gray fluid spilled out, landing on Reisner’s arms. He scurried back, frantically brushing off the parasites, which were flooding into the exposed lacerations on his forearm. He saw Roland darting off through the briars, moaning as he staggered away.
Reisner tried to sit up, feeling like dozens of threaded needles were swimming through his right bicep. He heard the sound of the boat motor revving as it sped away, then he saw Connelly rushing up to his side.
He reinserted his ear-mic, trying to catch a glimpse of the dock. “Pacelle—primary target is on the move along the river.” He coughed up blood as a calming feeling began flooding over his mind despite his grievous wounds. He felt like ending the message but fought through the sensation. “The heat signature from the female—track it and take it out.”
He fell back on the leaves, looking up at the sky, marveling at its beauty. His body felt awash with peace; his mind felt like it was expanding beyond the forest around him.
Chapter 37
Connelly knelt down next to Reisner, watching a boat speed off down the river with four creatures in it. She lowered her rifle, knowing she was out of range, then yanked out her trauma kit and tore open the packet of gauze. As she went to apply the compress, she saw dozens of worms wriggling their way into the raw flesh on Reisner’s forearm.
“Shit—no!” She tried to pick them out with her gloved fingers, but it was futile. Their miniscule bodies were disappearing into his muscle fibers. She bit her lip, then reached into her side shoulder pocket and retrieved the emergency syringe with the drone antidote. She popped open the plastic tube and slid it out, then drove the tip into Reisner’s quadriceps like Selene had instructed them to do. “I don’t know if this will work, boss, but it’s the only chance you’ve got.”
She flung the empty syringe on the ground, then hastily commenced with wrapping the gauze on his bleeding arm. She helped him stand, his body tottering from the trauma. “Stay with me, Will—we’ve only got three minutes to clear this area.”
She had him lean on her shoulder as they trot-walked along the base of the hill. Connelly clicked on her ear-mic. “Echo One, do you copy? We are approaching your location, but Reisner is wounded. Can you meet me at the edge of the clearing?”
It was a relief to hear Ivins’ voice. “We just picked up Porter and Gomez and are heading your way. There’s another meadow approximately eighty meters northwest of the river.”
Thank God the others made it. She thought of Nash and Wexler’s crumpled bodies lying in the woods. Soon they would be little more than ash, like the rest of the region, but there was no going back for them now, and if she didn’t pick up the pace, she and Reisner would be joining them. She channeled her grief and anxiety into rage and forced her legs to move faster, clutching Reisner around his shoulder to keep him upright. He seemed conscious, but his eyes were glazed over like he was hypnotized, and she wondered if he had a concussion.
Between looking for more booby-traps along the trail and straining her ears for signs of the helo, she barely saw the lone alpha drop from the tree to her right and charge at her.
Connelly slid to a stop in the mud, nearly losing her balance. She spun to her left, the motion dropping Reisner to the ground. Connelly raised her Glock, firing off her last three rounds into the bounding creature’s chest, her hands shaking from fatigue. The spindly alpha barely reacted to the trauma and kept coming. She flung her pistol down and withdrew her ten-inch blade. “No way in hell you’re getting past me.” She screamed the words, gritting her teeth and running straight at it. She heard the thing growl, its yellow teeth exposed, accentuated by its bloody lips.
Twenty feet.
Ten.
Five.
Connelly angled off to the right at the last second, her knife hand delivering a deep slash to the throat. The alpha tumbled forward, continuing to somersault along the trail as blood and worms spilled onto the ground. She spun around and raced at it. The shrieking creature clutched its throat, the large parasite inside trying to wriggle free from the mouth. Connelly drove her blade up in an arc under the jaw, slicing into the parasite, then she pulled back and sent a vicious stomp-kick into the alpha’s chest, sending it flailing down the hill.
“Connelly—ninety seconds to impact. Get the hell out of there,” yelled Ivins into her earpiece. She sheathed her only weapon and ran back to retrieve Reisner, who was on his knees, his eyes barely open. She grabbed him under his armpits, helping him up, then dragged him alongside her. She kept searching for an opening in the thick brush ahead, knowing the meadow had to be close, then she heard the comforting sound of rotor wash.
“We are pulling out of here in thirty seconds—get your asses out of there,” yelled Ivins.
Forty feet ahead, she could see the meadow and the Blackhawk. Her lungs were burning, and she could hardly feel her r
ight arm around Reisner. She clenched her jaw, forcing her legs forward. “Come on!”
Bursting through the last bit of brush, she staggered into the clearing. Ivins and Murph bolted forward, helping them the rest of the way. She felt Ivins shove her inside right behind Reisner, then they immediately lifted off and veered in a hard arc to the right. Ivins pinned her body to the floor while holding onto the bench with his other hand.
She felt like her heart was going to explode as she gasped for air. Once the helo levelled off, she saw Reisner being strapped into a stretcher by the medic. Murph helped her onto the rear bench, quickly yanking her seatbelt in place before he did the same to himself.
The fuselage rocked violently to the left, careening from the nearby impact of the Hellfire. She felt the fuselage creak as the temperature of the air around her seemed to rise thirty degrees. Once the Blackhawk gained enough altitude above the sea of trees, she saw the skyline to their left turn white, followed by a searing cloud of blood-orange as the cabin and surrounding area was engulfed.
Connelly look across at Gomez, whose damaged foot was immobilized in a thick wad of gauze and tape. His head was tilted back and his eyes were closed, and she knew the medic must have given him something for the pain. She felt something on her shoulder and realized Porter was touching her.
“You OK? You get injured?” he said, inspecting the cuts on her face and neck.
Connelly shook her head, looking around the cockpit for the two faces she knew she’d never see again. In the short time she knew Wexler, he had always made her laugh with his endless comments about the superiority of the Marines and his bad jokes. She thought of Nash, who had been like a big brother to her since day one on the team. His immense physical presence and low-key confidence were so comforting, and he had helped her through so many hurdles on their early missions. How can he be gone? She lowered her head into her hands, trying to exhale, but the air felt like it was glued to her ribs. She looked back at Reisner; his chest was barely moving and his skin was ashen.
