The Tide_Dead Ashore

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  When Meredith had called him for help, there was no question about what he would do. The only question was how he would do it.

  If Meredith and Andris had been spotted, if soldiers and Hybrids were closing in on them, then the FGL people knew someone was inside the base. He just hoped they didn’t know who or how many; he could use that to his advantage.

  He chinned his comm link. “Bravo, Alpha. SITREP?”

  His heart raced as he awaited an answer. He repeated the request, but neither Andris nor Meredith responded.

  It took every ounce of self-restraint not to scream aloud. He wanted to personally rescue Meredith and stop all the bastards who dared harm her. But he couldn’t let his emotions cloud his judgment. Cold, hard logic told him there wouldn’t be a better time for Reynolds to take him to the operational headquarters of this perverse facility than now.

  It was easy to imagine Spitkovsky was here, sitting on his throne and gloating over his near-total victory over what remained of the world. He would see to it that the man would pay for all he had done.

  “Miguel, you’re in charge of Alpha now,” Dom commanded. “Do whatever it takes to rescue Bravo and fulfill their mission.”

  “You got it, Chief.” Miguel threw up a brief salute.

  “We won’t let you down,” Spencer said.

  “I want you to take these fine men down there with you, if they’re willing,” Dom said, motioning to the other Hybrids in the cage.

  There were a few gruff affirmatives from the Hybrid SEALs, and several Moroccan civilians stepped forward, their bone plates rattling against each other. The others standing in the back looked too far gone to even comprehend the words coming out of Dom’s mouth.

  “Reynolds,” Dom began, “make sure we only let out the ones who are capable of following orders.”

  “I catch your drift, Captain,” Reynolds rasped. “Men, you heard him.”

  The SEALs lined up at the cell’s entrance. Miguel used one of the key cards he’d retrieved to release the lock. The door clicked open.

  Reynolds stepped out. Dom wondered for a split second if he’d done the right thing. Maybe Reynolds’s mind was as warped as his body. But the SEAL Hybrid merely stood to the side as the others exited the cell.

  A deranged-looking Hybrid lurched forward, drool hanging from his mouth. Reynolds put a hand over the man’s chest. “We’ll be back for you.”

  “Lock it back up,” Dom said. With the locks reengaged, he looked at Reynolds. “You’re with me. Everyone else, follow Miguel.”

  The responsibility of saving Meredith and Andris was on Miguel’s shoulders, as was reining in these new Hybrid allies. It was a lot to ask, but the man could handle it.

  “Now, go,” Dom said. “Bravo’s waiting.”

  The others sprinted from the prison chamber and out of the laboratory warehouse. They paid less heed to stealth than before, though they still kept to the shadows. Speed was more important now.

  “You know where I want to go,” Dom said to Reynolds. “Is he here?”

  A jack-o-lantern grin cut across Reynolds’s face. “Follow me.”

  They cut across the shipyard like a pair of ghosts. The guards Dom and Reynolds spotted were almost all focused on the tumult surrounding the warehouse, where Bravo was closing in on Andris and Meredith. Dom tried to stop the dark thoughts flooding his mind from weighing him down. He was already slow enough because of his injured leg. He didn’t need a monumental distraction to hold him back even further.

  Christ, a distraction? Is that what you’re calling Meredith now?

  The Hybrid man crouched beside Dom and pointed up. He had an AK from one of the guards in his clawlike fingers. Lights glowed from a two-story building. A half-finished skeleton of a tower stood atop the building, as if the place was in the middle of upgrades to its defensive capabilities. The bottom of the building seemed to be a garage. A pair of armored personnel carriers was parked inside. Typhoons, by the look of them—Russia’s mine-resistant ambush protected vehicles, or MRAPs.

  Dom didn’t like the fact that the garage was already open. “Looks like someone is getting ready to leave.”

  “We won’t let ’em,” Reynolds said. His eyelids quivered, and one of his arms shook. The waves of agony undulated through his flesh again.

  “You okay to do this?”

  “I was made to do this. They made me this way.”

  “Okay,” Dom said. He opened the line with the Huntress. “Chao, how are the data uploads looking? Know who’s running this place?”

  “Negative, Captain,” Chao replied over the comm link. “Only scientific data so far. Much of it is encrypted. Samantha’s working on it, but it seems like the computers you nabbed were only on local area networks. No connections to the rest of the base.”

  Dom cursed. “Reynolds, know what we’re looking at?”

  “They usually had a dozen guards patrolling the place. Soldiers, probably Hybrids now too. We didn’t have much time to—” He paused, his face drawing up into a scowl. Then he let out a sigh. “We didn’t have much time to provide solid intel, but I can tell you those Typhoons were constantly shuttling people to the helipad.”

  “Any chance you saw a big, bald Russian dude with a scarred face?”

  “I did,” Reynolds said.

  “You know if he’s still here?”

  “No idea. Sorry.”

  Dom surveyed the second level of the building with his scope. A stainless-steel grated balcony surrounded it. Guards with fixed machine guns stood at each corner, and two soldiers with AKs leaned against the railing between each of the MGs.

  “Tell me you have a way to get in there.”

  “They guard that place to keep out humans and normal Skulls.” Reynolds handed Dom his rifle. “But they didn’t think about Hybrids.”

  Dom shot him a perplexed look. Reynolds pointed at a nearby crane. An open claw dangled at the end of it. At first Dom thought the SEAL meant to use the crane to tear the roof off the place. Then it dawned on him.

  “You need fire support?” Dom asked.

  “Only if it looks like I’m losing,” Reynolds said, half standing, his back hunched. The spikes along his spine bristled. “Otherwise, I’ll get us in as quietly and quickly as possible. Be ready to get up there as soon as it’s clear.”

  “Will do.”

  Reynolds flowed into the shadows like the night itself. He sprinted at supernatural speed, looking every bit like a Skull moving in for the kill. But unlike the suicidal way most Skulls charged, Reynolds stuck to cover and didn’t make a beeline right for the soldiers. Instead he scaled the crane like a spider. He slid down the cable attached to the claw and then crouched on top of it.

  Arms outstretched, Reynolds leapt off the claw. He soared silently a good twenty feet then hit the roof. A fall like that would at least break a normal human’s ankles, but Reynolds merely rolled and recovered in one graceful maneuver. Two of the nearby guards had heard the click-clack of Reynolds’s claws against the roof. They turned. In their momentary confusion, Reynolds swept down on them like a bird of prey. His claws found their necks, and each soldier fell back, clutching at mortal wounds. Reynolds barreled at the nearest machine gun nest and downed another guard before the man even turned.

  The noise of his body dropping against the steel beneath him caused another two guards to turn. Reynolds charged. They looked as if they barely had time for their shock to register before they went down in a flurry of slicing claws. Reynolds continued to circle the balcony, dispatching guards one at a time. Dom kept track of him from the shadows, his finger hovering near his trigger guard. He had held off on fire support lest a stray bullet attract attention from whoever was inside the building. But now the guards had caught on. One spun from his machine gun, hoisting a rifle. Two more aimed at Reynolds.

  Dom let loose. Rounds plunged into the first man’s side then the leg of the second. Reynolds bounded over their falling bodies. He leapt at the man with the machine gun. The sold
ier never had a chance to fire. Reynolds sank his teeth into the man’s neck and pulled away strings of flesh.

  He truly was half-man, half-Skull. Dom couldn’t tell which half was driving Reynolds’s bloody rampage now. He prayed the man was still lucid enough to know Dom was on his side. Dashing to the building, Dom lunged up the stairs to the balcony. He had his rifle shouldered as he crept toward Reynolds. He didn’t aim at the SEAL, but he didn’t let the muzzle stray too far, either.

  “Reynolds,” he whispered.

  The SEAL spun. Red flared in his eyes, and Dom lifted the rifle slightly. Blood dripped from Reynolds’s mouth, staining his chest. His nose scrunched in a snarl, and the vessels lacing his ropey muscles bulged from between bony plates.

  “Captain Holland,” he said menacingly. The SEAL’s overgrown ribcage expanded as he caught his breath. “Captain Holland.”

  Dom wondered if the man had to repeat his name to remind himself whose side they were each on.

  “Remember what we came here for,” Dom said, approaching Reynolds with caution.

  Reynolds nodded, picking at the flesh caught between his teeth.

  Drawing close to the Hybrid, Dom ran into a wall of hot air and the coppery scent of blood wafting off his body and those of the dead at his feet.

  Dom placed a hand on the door nearest them. “Ready?”

  Reynolds managed a nod. Listening for a moment, Dom waited to hear the frantic call of voices from inside or any acknowledgement that the action out here had been noticed. He heard nothing. The lights were still on, illuminating a hallway. At the center stood another door with a reinforced glass window. Through it, Dom could see people milling about, hunched over computers and radio equipment. He saw one huge shape lurking off to the side in a familiar dark uniform and black beret. He’d seen that figure before the Congo. It had to be Spitkovsky. Eyes narrowed, he strained to confirm his hunch, but he couldn’t tell from this distance.

  Time to ask the bastard himself.

  With a twist of his wrist, Dom jerked the interior door open. Reynolds spilled through first, followed by Dom. They made for the center door.

  That was when the bullets started to fly.

  -36-

  Meredith stood still, her hands in the air and her rifle at her feet. She locked eyes with Andris as he slowly rose, leaving his own weapon by the dead Hybrid. The Hunter never let his gaze stray from Meredith’s. She could see the frustration in his eyes, the defeat.

  They were caught.

  She heard Dom ask for a SITREP over the comm link, but when she opened her mouth to answer, the cold steel of a gun barrel pressed harder against her temple.

  Blood and sweat coursed over her forehead. The mixture dripped in her eyes. She blinked, trying to clear it. Her body felt ragged. She was exhausted, and the adrenaline was tapering off.

  The man standing in front of her was a Hybrid. His skin was blistered with bony outgrowths, and his claws clicked as he paced. There was cold intelligence emanating from his blue eyes.

  “You are a feisty couple of shits.” His English was only slightly marred by a Russian accent. “You don’t give up easily, huh?”

  The Hybrid motioned for the others to bring Andris over. They dragged him across the floor. He tried to stand next to Meredith, but one of the soldiers slammed him down. Andris struggled to his knees. Bruises were already forming along his cheeks.

  “Where are the rest of your friends?” the Hybrid asked.

  “We came alone,” Meredith said.

  “The last Americans to come through here said the same thing. Let’s cut through the bullshit.” The Hybrid let his rifle hang off his shoulder by its strap and pulled out his pistol instead. “Where are your friends?”

  Andris spat at the man. Bloody saliva smacked against his cheek.

  “That’s not the answer I was looking for.” The Hybrid whipped his pistol across Andris’s jaw. “Where are the others?”

  “I don’t know,” Meredith said, stalling for time. The Hybrid pulled the gun away from Andris’s head and kicked him hard in the chest.

  “Then you admit you have friends,” the Hybrid said. He pointed the gun at Andris’s head as the Hunter gasped for breath. “You can make this much easier for yourselves.”

  “I never do anything the easy way,” Meredith said.

  The Russian Hybrid clicked his fangs together. “I know a hundred ways to pry an answer from a man.” The claws of his free hand sliced through the air. “I used to have to carry a kit with me to get someone to talk. But now I have everything I need. Would you like me to demonstrate?”

  Meredith clenched her jaw, refusing to show fear.

  The Hybrid paced toward her and traced a claw over the side of her head. “A shame about the ear. You might have been a pretty one once, eh?” Then he turned and bent low next to Andris. “Would you like to match your friend here?”

  “Fuck you,” Andris said.

  “I don’t think so.” The Hybrid stabbed downward, pulling at Andris’s skin like a hook catching in a fish’s mouth.

  Andris’s mouth snapped shut. Pain flashed over his face, and he clenched his eyes shut. The Hybrid continued tearing, centimeter by agonizing centimeter. Andris’s fingers curled and went white.

  “Christ, stop it!” Meredith yelled. She’d endured training to withstand torture herself. But watching someone else go through it was an entirely different matter.

  “You will talk?” the Hybrid asked, letting Andris go immediately.

  Andris slapped a hand to the side of his head, holding the flap of skin closed. His eyes glistened, and his nostrils flared. “Don’t, Meredith. Not a word. Let him do his worst to me. I do not care.”

  “But I do,” Meredith said. Good God, where is Dom? Where’s Alpha?

  The Hybrid swiveled and slashed at Andris. Red claw marks appeared on his cheek. “I’m tired of your talk. The next one is through your vocal cords.”

  Meredith couldn’t stand it. They’d saved each other’s asses so many times. She’d started to think of Andris as her partner in the field, and she wasn’t about to let him die here.

  Dom had to have a plan. She just needed time to let him do whatever it was. That was it. Stall. Talk to this guy, keep herself and Andris alive another second. Then another second after that. Keep scraping and clawing for time until Alpha showed up with guns blazing and saved the day.

  “Where?” the Hybrid asked simply.

  “I don’t know,” Meredith said. “We split up.”

  “You know where they were going.” The Hybrid snarled. “No games.”

  She racked her brain. Surely Dom was out of the labs by now, right? “They went for the research labs.”

  “The labs?” the Hybrid asked, sounding skeptical.

  The Hybrid spoke to another soldier in Russian. The soldier said something into his radio and waited a few seconds. He repeated the request.

  One of the Hybrid’s eyebrows lifted. “It seems no one at the lab is answering. Maybe you’re telling the truth.”

  “Of course I am.” In her head, she thought, Come on, Dom. Come on.

  Somewhere beyond the ring of soldiers, she heard the click of something hard against concrete. The Hybrid heard it too. His eyes left her, sweeping the darkness. A few of the soldiers turned a beat later.

  They started to creep toward the sound. But before they made it halfway around the first set of crates and pallets, a swarm of Hybrids surged over them, claws slashing and teeth bared.

  Meredith took advantage of the momentary confusion. She threw herself into the Hybrid that had been interrogating them. With one hand, she freed her blade from its sheath and shoved it deep underneath the Hybrid’s ribcage. She twisted the blade around, and he let out a howl of pain. Battered as he was, Andris took down another soldier, and the rush of incoming Hybrids overwhelmed the others.

  Then Meredith saw Miguel, Jenna, Glenn, and Spencer join in the fray. Their shots were measured and precise, taking down any soldiers the Hybri
ds had missed.

  She held down the Russian Hybrid. His eyes bulged, and blood dripped from his mouth.

  She grinned at him. “Guess what. My friends are here.”

  ***

  From the top of the lighthouse, Shepherd spotted the Goliath. Rather, he spotted the trees the Goliath was pushing over as it trampled through the forest. It left a wake of destruction. Normal-sized Skulls ran with it. Some were crushed under its elephantine feet, but the others didn’t seem to take notice. They were all too riled up at the prospect of fresh prey.

  “Holy shit,” Navid said, setting Terrence down next to Matsumoto. He and Divya were at the railing beside Shepherd now. “You got an extra gun?”

  Shepherd handed Navid his sidearm. Not that he expected it would do much good. One of the Portuguese soldiers followed suit and deposited his pistol in Divya’s hands. She chambered a round with surprising deftness.

  “Pistols won’t do shit against that thing,” Shepherd warned, pointing to the Goliath. “Best you can do is hold off the smaller Skulls while we try to take him down.”

  The hatch to the top floor of the lighthouse had been shut and a bar placed in the door to keep it locked. Skulls pounded at it from the other side, their claws scraping against the metal. A couple of Costas’s people watched it, their weapons trained on the hatch.

  Other soldiers were already picking off the first of the Skull reinforcements. Corpses filled the street, their bodies draped over dried-out bushes and husks of cars below. One of the injured men whimpered in a corner; whether it was out of pain or abject horror, Shepherd couldn’t tell. A woman tried to comfort him, but she stopped when a Skull wearing the remnants of a trench coat charged toward the lighthouse. Her rifle chattered. Bullets sparked. Several found their home inside the Skull’s flesh. It fell forward and was trampled by two more of its brethren.

  “Costas,” Shepherd growled, “get me someone on that goddamned radio.”