by JT Sawyer
“Active radar indicates a Shang 1 Class submarine, sir,” said Reynolds. She tapped her index finger on the outer edge of the radar screen. “There it is.”
“We need to get a lock on those birds and kill them,” said McKenzie, looking out the starboard windows at the Halsey, which had just launched three missiles from its front deck. McKenzie glanced at the lights and campfires on the island—a third of his crew exposed, with nowhere to hide. He had kept them safe on their journey across the globe, then through the nightmarish first days of the pandemic, only to thrust them into an even more vulnerable position.
He pivoted back to Rodriguez’s location and saw the three incoming missiles disappear off the radar, their interception successful. He saw the initial long-range missile still trailing across the screen, its destination unknown.
“Calculate the end trajectory of that first bogey.”
Rodriguez expanded the map on his computer screen, tracking the missile along its arc. He typed in the speed and flight path, then pulled up a set of coordinates. “This is off the coast of Baja, Mexico, sir. Estimated time to impact is eight minutes.”
McKenzie balled his fists, his heart punching against his chest. “Lord, no—that’s the current location of the hospital ship.” He yelled back at the communications officer, “Warn the GoodWill, now!”
He picked up the mic to hail the commander of the Halsey, but heard Rodriguez shouting about another incoming volley.
“We are being targeted with nine incoming tracks—five missiles and four torpedoes.” He paused, thrusting his face towards the radar screen. “Wait, they just launched another volley—eight more missiles inbound.”
McKenzie squeezed in between the two tactical action officers, his eyes widening at the multiple streams of destruction heading their way. “Jesus—they’re sending everything they have. This is a suicide mission for them.”
He heard the outgoing missiles from the Halsey, their contrails lighting up the evening sky. McKenzie stared down at the radar again, watching the inbound missiles colliding with some of the destroyers’ countermeasures. Then he heard the roar of torpedoes being shot off the bows of the two U.S. ships, eight in all, as he ordered Rodriguez to return fire. The entire radar screen was lit up with red and green triangles racing towards each other. Some of them succeeded along their intended route while others slid past. Every time, the destroyers launched another volley of missiles to kill the incoming birds.
McKenzie saw the eight torpedoes racing towards the calm harbor where they were anchored. He watched each torpedo and missile disappear off the screen as they were terminated, until there were only four left. One torpedo got through the defenses and slammed into the aft of the Halsey, a fiery explosion rocking the vessel. McKenzie pulled away from the console and moved towards the windows overlooking the smoking ship, which had suffered a direct hit and was beginning to sink. He knew the Navy hospital ship was going to suffer a similar fate soon.
He didn’t need to hear Rodriguez’s confirmation that two surface missile had gotten through as one inbound projectile sped towards the Reagan and another towards a cluster of civilian frigates moored near each other. For a moment, he saw the faces of his crew on his bridge, searching for him in vain. Then there was a concussive blast, followed by the sickening sound of splintering metal and glass as the bridge of the aircraft carrier exploded in a cloud of flame and swirling smoke. The bridge of the Reagan was nothing more than a crater. A second later, the makeshift lab with Munroe’s specimens and research was on fire, along with a fishing trawler, their hulls splintered open as the ship’s bows slid below the water.
McKenzie pressed his face against the window, his eyes reflecting the carnage spread across the bay, the evening sky aglow with fire. No, no, this can’t be happening. We survived the virus and nearly made it home, only to suffer this catastrophe created by the very nation Siegel unleashed his killer germs upon. He stood frozen, wondering if he was enmeshed in a nightmare, then slowly raised his fist, pounding the side of it into the wall beside him.
***
Zheng was leaning over the missile launch controls in the submarine, the eyes of his men focused upon him. His fingers were trembling, while the pit in his soul had deepened with each depression of the red button before him.
“Goodbye, my sweet Vai,” he whispered silently to his daughter in a distant land. “I hope you grow up in a world much different than mine.” He heard the incessant beeping on the active sonar monitor above his head, and didn’t need visual confirmation of the incoming torpedoes that would soon splinter apart his vessel. Their evasive maneuvers had failed, and their lives were reduced to less than a minute. Instead of watching the sonar screen, he took a deep breath and stood up, adjusting the hat on his head and gazing at each of his men sitting at their duty stations. Their solemn faces were turned to his, their fates as sealed as the bond between them. Across the room, he saw Lee, his second-in-command, whose pale face and startled expression revealed a soul who knew the end was near.
Zheng raised his right hand and saluted, looking into each man’s face before him. “It has been an honor serving with you all, gentlemen. In another reality, we would have shaken hands in our retirement one day, years from now, and shared stories of our adventures at sea—but providence has chosen another path for us, it seems.”
The sound of the approaching torpedoes on the sonar screen was rapid-fire now, then quickly became a single, uninterrupted squeal, followed by the hull of the steel leviathan exploding.
Chapter 43
Reisner flung open the vault-like steel door on the rooftop exit and immediately heard the staccato of gunfire coming from the left of the building. Below he could see the mangled wreck of the other Blackhawk, and thousands of creatures pouring into the DOJ building from the streets. It was only the twenty-foot difference in rooftops between the two attached buildings that had prevented the creatures from completely overrunning their position.
The eight SEALs were spread out, dumping their rifle rounds into the onslaught of savage drones below, who were trying to scamper up the brick wall. Nash was busy getting Allison and the others inside the remaining Blackhawk as Selene got them buckled into their seats. The roar of the rotors couldn’t even be heard above the constant gunfire as the shrieks of the demon army on the nearby roof filled the city. He paused in his tracks when he heard a deafening high-pitched sound coming from a building across the street. Reisner saw a lone figure standing atop a ventilation shaft, screeching at the drones below.
“That’s her—that parasite bitch,” shouted Blake. “I got in a fight with her a few hours ago and plugged her in the leg with a metal pipe, then torched her fuckin’ lair.”
Reisner thought back to the erratic behavior of the drones near the Presidio and wondered if there was a connection. He was about to pivot around to shoot at the alpha when two drones catapulted over the wall, taking down one of the SEALs on the end. They flung his body backwards into the throng below, then leapt upon a second operator, driving his body into the street while they held on to him. Reisner fired upon both creatures, sending their limp bodies back over the lip of the wall. When he swung back around, the alpha creature had already darted away.
Reisner heard Murphy yelling as he closed the gap on the end where his teammate had just died. The SEAL killed three creatures, then dumped a volley of rounds into another group rushing up the wall as Reisner joined in beside him.
Ivins backpedaled away from the skirmish line, yelling into his earpiece, “Fall back.” He shot two creatures vaulting onto the edge, their splattered bodies quickly replaced by more as the tidal wave of translucent flesh increased.
As Nash and Connelly rushed to the wall, Reisner backpedaled while covering them, shooting four drones. One got through and tackled Connelly, and her head crashed into a cement pylon. Reisner clipped the drone in the skull with two bullets then rushed to Connelly, dragging her under the arms towards the helicopter. He felt for a pulse on her ca
rotid, then leaned over the operator, staring into her half-open eyes as he gently brushed a lock of black hair from her face. “You’re a hard-headed woman in more ways than one.” He and Nash lifted her up towards Selene and Pacelle. God, don’t let her die. I can’t lose another agent—not now, after all she’s been through. The wound on Connelly’s head was leaking blood, and he hoped it was superficial.
Dammit, Reisner muttered silently, looking down at his vest. In the chaos, he had forgotten about the audio device in his pocket. He flicked on the battery and clipped the speaker to his collar. He yelled at Ivins to do the same as the SEAL commander retreated.
The creatures hurled themselves onto the wall in greater numbers, but came to a standstill twenty feet from the Blackhawk. With both devices activated, all of the fighters encircled the helicopter, ceasing fire as the pulsing wave of ravenous monsters was held back by the invisible force.
“Get inside,” yelled Ivins to the rest of his team.
Jackson leaned out his window. “We’re not gonna fit everyone—not enough fuel. Four people too many.”
Ivins was about to speak up when Reisner shoved him back towards the cabin. “Get everyone to safety. The rest of my team will stay behind.”
Ivins gave him a reluctant look, then patted a fist on Reisner’s shoulder. “Once we’ve refueled on the GoodWill, I’ll send a team back for you.” Ivins removed his audio device and handed it to the pilot. “Can you relay that sonic alarm into your external speakers?”
Jackson quickly attached the speaker to his mic on the console. The low-pitched frequency tripled in output, driving the creatures off the roof, back to the DOJ building below. Nash moved up to the side of the open cabin and grabbed a pack full of rifle and pistol magazines, along with a coil of climbing rope and some MREs.
Reisner checked on Connelly as Murphy was applying a head wrap to her wound, then he glanced up at Selene, their eyes catching. She rushed to the side of the cabin, her blonde hair adrift in the turbulence. “What are you doing? You can’t stay here.”
“You’ll be in good hands. Take care of Connelly for me, and get that sample from the Presidio back to the GoodWill. We’ll be along soon enough.” He felt himself backing up, then stopped. Despite the horrors around him, he couldn’t pry his eyes away from Selene. In this moment of chaos and uncertainty, she was all that mattered. He rushed forward, sliding his hand behind her neck and pulling her closer. “We’ll see each other again, Selene. I promise.” He pressed his lips against hers, the turmoil around him fading for a second as he felt her push into him. A moment later, he yanked himself away, then moved back towards the stairwell, never removing his eyes from hers.
He felt Porter grab his arm. “Boss—we need to get inside, now,” yelled the lithe operator as he held his AR fixed upon the horde of drones near the edge of the building.
“You going to hunt down that bitch?” said Blake, pointing to where the alpha creature had been. “If so, count me in.”
“If I were you, I’d catch a ride out of here,” said Porter. “One of the SEALs can join us.”
“I’m good, thanks,” said Blake. “This city is the only place I’ve ever known—you might need my help if you end up on the run.”
“With any luck, we’ll only be here a few hours before the helo returns,” said Reisner. “Besides, this is probably the safest place in L.A.” He regretted voicing the latter comment with such confidence, since no place seemed beyond the reach of these hellish fiends.
Reisner nodded for Blake to join them, and the surly figure trotted alongside the group as they made their way towards the stairwell. He looked back at Selene then down at Connelly, who was barely moving, holding both women in his gaze as the helicopter lifted off.
Chapter 44
Nanjing Bunker
General Lau was standing in the observation room, overlooking the alpha creature strapped to a steel gurney beyond the glass window. The floor beneath it was coated with streaks of gray blood and jagged bodyparts from a recent dissection of a drone. A red ring was painted in a four-foot diameter circle around the gurney, indicating in Chinese characters to avoid stepping inside.
Lau had found it fascinating that the creature reacted with such anguish, almost concern, for the horrific pain the drone had experienced while he dismembered it in front of the beast. Now, it lay still, its body spent from its futile attempts to free itself from the wrist and ankle shackles attached to the gurney.
The sealed biocontainment door behind him hissed open as his son Han and General Vehm entered the room, escorted by two armed guards.
“Ah, gentlemen, good of you to join me,” said Lau. “I think you will be most interested in the work that has been accomplished in this lab in recent days. With the offensive strike underway against the Americans and with our scientific breakthroughs here, we are making great strides.”
Vehm’s face seemed frozen, drained of color, as he looked into the room beyond, while Han held a quizzical expression.
“How may we be of service, sir?” said Han, whose eyes kept darting between the creature and his father.
“I wish to show you both something.”
Lau pressed a red button on the console beside him, opening the sliding doors to the observation room. He smiled and waved them to follow as he entered. “No need to worry about contagion. This creature can’t infect you with parasites as long as you stay outside of its range.” He pointed to the red circle as he moved to the back of the room, stepping over puddles of fresh blood.
Vehm glanced back at the two guards, noticing they had stepped inside the room beside the entrance, their MP5s hanging off their shoulders. The creature moaned at the sight of Lau, a low, shrill sound fluttering out from its thin lips.
“During the past two days of research we’ve done here, I have discovered that these abominable yet remarkable beasts have something woven into the fiber of their beings that defies logic.” He folded his arms, staring into the anguished eyes of the creature. “An unyielding sense of loyalty to one another. They would die to save the others around them, regardless of the brutality they had to experience in the process.”
He slipped between Vehm and Han, placing his hands on their shoulders and gripping them tightly. “Imagine that kind of innate commitment to members of your own species—one that transcends party lines, familial ties, and even the mighty Yen.” He let go of his son and wrapped his entire arm around Vehm’s neck, exerting a forceful squeeze that caused the man to gag.
“But then you probably have no idea what I am talking about, General.” He moved back, shoving the man against the wall with force. Vehm slipped on the congealed mess on the floor, toppling to the ground as Lau rushed up beside him. Lau grabbed his gray hair and yanked his head back.
“Did you really think you could turn my own flesh and blood against me? He may not be the wolf I had hoped his mother would bring into this world, but he is still my son.”
Lau whipped the older man’s head back violently against the concrete wall several times. It made a dull thud, and Vehm’s eyes fluttered from the impact. Lau boldly walked across the room, removing the HK pistol from his belt holster. He stopped before Han, pressing the pistol into his son’s right hand.
“I heard everything that transpired between you and Vehm during his traitorous visit to your office. You were wise to dismiss him.” He looked back at the slumped figure against the wall. “Now, remove any further doubts about your allegiance and finish him.”
Han’s face was contorted, and he gave his father a sorrowful look. He raised the pistol up partway, turning it on its side and examining it like it was something foreign. He looked at Vehm, and could see a faint trickle of blood leaking out from the back of the man’s skull. His ending was inevitable—it was just a matter of how much dignity the man would die with.
Han turned, holding the pistol at his side again while giving his father an expectant look. Lau saw a flicker of courage float briefly across his son’s eyes, and then
something else he couldn’t identify. Han turned away and walked past the creature lying motionless on the gurney, then over to Vehm.
He leaned over the nearly unconscious general and ran his hand across the man’s wavy hair. “Forgive me, Uncle.” He raised the HK at Vehm’s head, then pulled the trigger as he finished his sentence, a tear trickling down his cheek. The resounding echo in the small chamber was deafening. Han’s trembling hand swung up to the left, and he abruptly shot four more rounds, killing both guards.
As Lau raced forward at him, Han pivoted and leveled the pistol only as a warning, but Lau reacted according to his training and rushed forward, slamming his son against the wall, jamming the weapon between them as they struggled. A second later, the room echoed with another gunshot and Han staggered backwards, holding a thumb-sized hole in his ribcage.
Lau backpedaled, looking at the gaping wound in his son’s chest and then down at the smoking barrel of the pistol. Deep furrows formed on his cheeks as he squinted at the carnage around him. Han slid to the floor and Lau rushed up, tossing the pistol on the ground.
He clutched Han in his arms, staring into his son’s eyes. Han’s blood-soaked fingers were pressed against the bullet wound. “Sorry I was always such a disappointment to you, Father.”
Lau’s face turned to stone and he pulled Han closer. “I should have raised you differently, my son.” A surprised look came over Han’s face, and he raised a crimson finger, brushing it against his father’s cheek. Then Han slumped back, letting out his last breath.
Lau pulled his son closer, leaning over him. What have I done? He looked into the empty eyes of Han and felt his chest shudder with each breath. Lau heard an automated voice blaring on the overhead speakers, indicating a catastrophic power failure was imminent and all energy relay systems were shutting down.
He gasped, gently sliding Han’s body to the ground. Lau heard the sound of the lab doors sealing shut, followed by the overhead lights clicking off. A second later, he heard the metallic clicking of the restraints on the gurney as they were released. His pulse quickened and his hands floundered on the slick floor for his pistol. A faint shrill sound floated across the room. The silence afterwards was deafening. He glanced up towards the location of where the doors were supposed to be, and scurried over to the dead guards. Frantically, he wrestled with the MP5 on the shoulder of the nearest body. He turned with the weapon in front of him, pressing his back against the doors. Lau felt himself being yanked from the floor into a black abyss. His body was thrust to the ceiling then dropped to the ground with such force that he heard the sound of his own spine snapping like it was a handful of brittle twigs. There was an agonizing pain shooting through his limbs, followed by numbness and the inability to move.
