The Sixth Extinction America Omnibus [Books 1-12]

by Johnson, Glen

  “There is bound to be some kind of boat for moving on the lake, for maintenance purposes,” Bachman added.

  “I think there are small artificial islands out on the lake. They would need transport to get to them.” Peter was perking up a little. The color was flushing back into his cheeks.

  Bachman led them up the steps to the thick door.

  “There has to be a way from this section out onto the lake?” He pushed open the door and scanned the room for creatures.

  “All clear.”

  The three scampered out into the large water treatment plant.

  The sound of pumping water, venting steam, and mechanical equipment echoed through the chamber. It was a constant, loud white noise.

  The air was humid and smelt of chemicals.

  “Shit!” Emma said looking down.

  There were bloody footprints across the floor that had splattered blood around them as the tentacles lashed out as they moved along.

  “There’s nothing we can do about them. Let’s keep moving,” Bachman stated as he jogged along.

  Pipes of all sizes covered the walls and ran along on thick columns. They led into large metal vats. Steam vented and hissed.

  “How deep do you think this lake is?” Peter said as he followed behind Emma.

  “How the hell would I know?”

  “It’s just; I can’t swim!”

  141

  Naomi, and the others

  On the dock

  Just outside New York City

  The rain washed down over Naomi as she jogged along the dock. She couldn’t get any wetter if she jumped into the river.

  A fucking boat! It has to be safer than the deathtrap of a container. In just a couple of days, eight of us have died while traveling in it.

  Lightning flashed.

  She was shivering from the wet and cold.

  The bulk of the boat loomed out of the haze, like a giant sea creature crawling up onto land.

  Naomi could see people scurrying around on deck through the mist.

  “Don’t shoot,” a voice called from behind her.

  A man jogged up.

  “We have to climb the netting,” the large man stated. He was covered in watered-down blood. A large double-handed machete hung from his gloved hand.

  The large boat rocked against the dock. The wooden side creaked as it banged up against it.

  Naomi could see people leaning over the port side. All held weapons.

  Creaking boards made her turn.

  Frank was jogging in the rain.

  He was closely followed by Tierra, who was carrying Dante.

  Lindell and Troy were close behind.

  “Do you need a hand?” Stu asked.

  “Screw you, you’re even fatter than me… Fucking lardo!” She gripped the netting and started climbing.

  “No need for name calling,” Stu muttered into his goatee. “Bitch!”

  The people on deck helped Naomi aboard.

  “Welcome aboard,” a mid-thirties, thin woman, with black short hair said. I’m Caroline Hickman,” the woman shouted over the sound of the pouring rain and the rough river.

  Naomi climbed aboard.

  She could hear Stu below shouting – telling everyone they needed to climb the netting.

  “Welcome aboard,” Caroline shouted even louder, presuming Naomi didn’t hear her.

  “I heard you the first fucking time.” Naomi looked past the woman, checking the layout.

  “How do I get below deck?”

  Caroline stared at the newcomer. Someone they had just saved, and most probably lost people doing so.

  “Find it your fucking self.” She pushed past Naomi and stretched out a hand to help Frank over the side.

  “Thank you,” Frank shouted. Rain poured down his face, compressing his beard, making his look thinner.

  “You’re welcome,” Caroline shouted, so Naomi could hear.

  “A priest?” a man said with an accent, on Caroline’s right. “Welcome aboard Father. I’m Mike Chin.” The thin man looked Asian, possibly Chinese, and looked in his thirties. He had jet-black hair and black plastic rimmed glasses. He gripped a harpoon in one hand.

  There was shouting from below as Alex and Terrance started to run along the dock.

  Close behind was Mollee.

  Smokie and a collection of others were running toward the dock. There were a few creatures still in pursuit.

  Several at the back turned to cut the pursuing creatures down.

  A large harpoon pierced straight through an infested person’s chest. It was pinned to the muddy earth. The harpoon then started to wind back in, dragging the limp corpse along.

  “Let’s move people, more are on the way! We’re not out of the shit yet!” Smokie shouted as a horde of creatures could be seen racing from around the gas-station building.

  142

  Emma, Bachman, and Peter

  Inside the water treatment plant

  Zone 10

  The underground bunker

  Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania

  Emma was dizzy with fatigue, but she had no choice; they had to keep moving. The creatures could start ferrying up the large elevator at any moment.

  Time was of the essence.

  Zone 10 seemed empty.

  They found a few smears of blood and puddles of gore, but nowhere near as bad as the science block.

  They followed the thick pipes, presuming they were sucking water out of the underground lake.

  The zone was long and filled with pipes of all sizes.

  Peter shouted in pain when he placed a hand on one, to steady himself, as he slipped in some blood that was next to a pile of flesh and clumps of hair.

  “You wanna keep it down!” Emma said as she gripped his arm to steady him.

  “I just burnt my hand!” He held it out as if to prove his statement.

  “That’s nothing compared to what would happen if we bump into some of the tentacled things down here. Or if you keep putting my life in danger, I will let you drown in the lake.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered as he instinctively went to suck his fingers and hit the faceplate of the mask, as he almost walked into a plume of venting steam.

  “Here,” Bachman said. He was stood close to a large circular grate. Through it, a body of water was visible.

  “There’s got to be a way to the lake. Look around.”

  The three of them started searching the long wall, looking for a door or vent to climb through.

  “Over here,” Emma said as she pulled on a metal hatch. “Bingo!” The water was perfectly still, like a mirror. It vanished off into the distance, too far away to pick out any details.

  They climbed through one at a time. There is a ledge around the opening.

  In the distance, there was what appeared to be an island.

  “Is that a submarine?” Peter said. “That’s a bloody sub!”

  In the distance, with just the top out of the water, was a huge submarine. Next to it was a collection of military boats, all tied to a long dock, which looked small in comparison.

  “They must be storing them down here. I suppose it makes sense, having them down here, ready to take up after.”

  “How the hell do you get something like that down here?” Emma questioned.

  “I would guess the main elevator, or the lake joins up with a river,” was Bachman’s best guess. “Possibly the sub is for training purposes. They probably brought it down in sections and built it down here. They will need to train people to use them for when they head back to the surface in twenty years. There’s probably a fleet of them hidden away, ready to be put back into service once they reclaimed the surface.”

  “It is a three hundred and sixty-two foot long, with a beam of thirty-three foot, and a draft of thirty-one, Los Angeles Class – or otherwise known as a 688-Class – nuclear-powered, fast attack submarine. I built an airfix model of one when I was younger. It hung from my ceiling for years,” he said.
r />   Peter looked again, as if straining his eyes.

  “Is that a pod on top?” He tried to lean forward. “That is, it’s an add-on pod.” He rubbed his face. “You know what that is guys?” he said in awe, as if finding a huge submarine in an underground reservoir wasn’t amazing enough. “That’s a bloody dry deck shelter! My god!” He started hopping from one foot to the other.

  He turned to the other two. “We could use it to get out.”

  “What is it?” Bachman asked.

  “It’s a removable module that divers can use for easy exit and entrance while the sub is submerged. SEAL teams use them. The submarine stays hidden, submerged, while the team load aboard, and can use the device for easy exit, without having to surface the submarine.” He pinched his nose and closed his eyes.

  “If I remember correctly, SEAL teams use SDVs, which is probably a DPD, to exit the DDS.”

  “What did you just say? Less geek please,” Emma said.

  “Sorry, SDV, or swimmer delivery vehicle. It’s a small engine propelled device that SEAL teams hold onto, which propels them through the water. Due to the type of sub, I would say they would use a DPD, a driver propulsion device that can hold two people. There may even be individual units on board.”

  “You mean that pod has smaller vehicles inside that could carry us underwater?”

  “It has a ventilation and water draining systems, with a–”

  “A simple yes will do,” Emma stated as she interrupted him.

  “Then yes. We could get inside, prepare the DPD and get out of here, providing the reservoir joins the outside world.”

  “Surely the sub would have to be submerged to get the devices out?” Bachman questioned.

  “I’m guessing the airfix kit you built all those years ago didn’t have instructions as to how to pilot a sub, because I sure as hell don’t know how?” Emma snapped.

  “And what if they lake doesn’t join to some underground water system?” Bachman added.

  “We could open the dry dock, and drop the DPDs into the water. They aren’t that big, just tubes with engines that pull you through the water.”

  Bachman stared at the sub and dry dock perched on top like a backpack.

  “It doesn’t help with the creature situation. It is a means of escape, but not a way to destroy the creatures before they reach the surface.”

  “Maybe there are missiles on the main sub that could?” Emma said staring at the submarine.

  “One step at a time. Let’s try the Furnace first, before we start firing missiles around in a sealed bunker.”

  Peter scrunched up his eyes in concentration. “Um, if I remember correctly, if it is fully armed, it holds thirty-seven Mk 48 torpedoes, and Tomahawk land attack missiles, and Harpoon anti-ship missiles, as well as either sixty-seven mobile, or sixty Captor mines.” He opened his eyes after concentrating.

  “What?” He looked from one to the other. “I’m a nerd; I remember details. And if it’s the new upgraded 688i-Class, then it will have even more firepower.”

  “Of course, the military, vehicles, and weapons zones. There has got to be nukes in here somewhere, you know, as a last resort,” Emma stated.

  “Slow down guys. One step and plan at a time.” Bachman stared across the distance. There.” He pointed. “That’s a rigid-hulled inflatable boat.” He started to take the rubber boots off.

  “What are you doing?” Emma said.

  “I’m swimming across to get it. We will get there quicker, and safer in a boat.” He looked at Peter, as if to remind her that Peter couldn’t swim. He dived into the water.

  “Better him than me, I hate water,” Peter announced.

  In the distance, a large ripple crested the surface and headed in Bachman’s direction.

  143

  Alex, and the others

  On the dock

  Just outside New York City

  Alex knew they wouldn’t make it onto the boat in time. There was just one net and there were too many of them to clamber up it.

  However, the group of women was still charging along the dock, racing toward the people on the boat, as if they knew something Alex didn’t.

  The creatures were pouring across the gap,

  Out of the frying pan and into the fire, Alex thought.

  The creatures were frantic. They clawed at the muddy ground when they fell, quickly regaining their footing. Like wild beasts, they churned toward the dock and fresh meat. Their cries pierced the air.

  To one side, the women were frantically climbing the netting, and being pulled over the port side, as the pouring rain washed over everyone.

  Terrance helped some people onto the boat, before climbing the net himself.

  As Alex watched the strangers frantically scramble onto the vessel, he wondered why no gunshots rung through the dark.

  Alex could see the people on the boats stern just stood watching the creatures approach.

  Why aren’t they firing their weapons, or tossing rocks, or something? Why just watch?

  Alex stood his ground. He would wait until they got closer so he didn’t waste bullets.

  The creatures reached the end of the dock. A few slipped on the wet boards, sliding into the water. Others poured over the warped wooden planks, their naked bodies glistening in the rain, as their hands thrashed about in front of them, as if to pull themselves forward faster.

  There was movement up on the stern – a man was stood adjusting a lever on a large metal drum. Alex noticed there were three identical drums on deck in a row.

  Suddenly, a large orange ball of flames spewed from the aft section. Like a flamethrower, a wave of liquid fire washed over the charging creatures. The dazzling flash of light momentary blinded Alex. The sound of the superheated flames cracking and consuming the wooden boards echoed over the water.

  144

  Tierra, Dante, and the others

  On the boat on a river

  Just outside New York City

  It was difficult for Tierra to climb the netting while holding onto Dante. But she was holding on for dear life, and she struggled up over the port side onto the swaying deck.

  Caroline helped best she could, but as soon as she reached for the child, the woman barked at her to get her hands off her son.

  Caroline raised her hands and stepped back. The woman could fall back onto the dock for all she cared. These people are so rude, and they went out of their way to help them. She could understand a little anger, due to their situation, but it didn’t need to be directed at them. They didn’t have to help; life was hard enough as it was without picking up more mouths to feed.

  Tierra headed straight for the cabin door, while ignoring the fighting, the creatures, and the huge spray of fire that was spraying from the back of the boat. None of that concerned her, all she was interested in was getting her son below deck, and getting him warm.

  Tierra pushed past a woman exiting the cabin door.

  The woman spun to say something, but Tierra ignored her and headed down the wooden steps into the warmth of the boat.

  The air was thick with the smell of diesel and mold, and a hint of fish.

  Below deck, there is a section with a galley and a table with screwed down benches. A thin hallway led to the back and down into the engine room. Along the hallway are sleeping quarters. There are six doors leading to the berths.

  Tierra pushed open the first door. She just wanted to drop down onto a warm, comfortable bed and hug her son, and tell him he was safe, and he could sleep.

  There was an older woman who looked like she was sleeping on the bottom bunk, regardless of the noise and activity outside. The woman’s breathing was ragged, and her throat was swollen.

  Tierra realized; the woman was infected.

  “What the fuck?” Tierra shouted as she backed out of the room. She stumbled into a woman walking down the corridor.

  “What do you think you are doing?” The woman was soaking wet and looked like she had climbed out of the rive
r.

  “You have an infected on the boat?”

  “It’s none of your bloody business what we do on our boat.” The woman gently closed the door, and it sounded like she was apologizing for the disturbance.

  Tierra pushed past the woman, elbowing her way back up onto the deck into the pouring rain.

  Terrance and Lindell and the others were on deck, helping strangers climb the net onto the vessel.

  “We need to get off the boat!” Tierra shouted over the sound of the people scrambling onto the ship.

  Everyone was ignoring her, as she stood cradling her son close to her chest.

  “There is an infected on board!”

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to give her their undivided attention.

  145

  Bachman, Emma, and Peter

  On the artificial lake

  Zone 9

  The underground bunker

  Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania

  Bachman was making good progress across the lake toward the rigid-hulled inflatable boat that was tied up against a jetty on a small island.

  It took a good five minutes of swimming for Bachman to get almost to the rigid side boat, and for the wave to make its way across the reservoir to his location.

  “Behind you,” he heard Emma shout as she noticed the disturbance behind him. She started jumping up and down in agitation.

  What the hell is she going on about?

  Peter and Emma were dots in the distance.

  He started to tread water and spin around.

  A wave was heading in his direction – it was the wake of some kind of marine animal.

  Fuck! What is in this lake?

  Sped on by fear, Bachman gave up his leisurely breaststroke and started doing the front crawl, slamming his arms into the water, to race toward the island and the boat.

  He could hear Peter and Emma urging him on, shouting for him to go faster. He didn’t need any encouragement. The wave was large. Whatever was making it had at least as much bulk as him.