by David Meyer
The two groups confirmed the strategy. Meanwhile, Caplan inched the van farther down the bridge. To his left, he saw old train tracks, protected by metal fencing and covered with dead weeds. To his right, he noticed the icy waters of the Charles River, blocked off by an ornate metal barricade.
He drove past the river and over a dark, snowy street. On his right, he saw a stone tower shaped like a pepper shaker. Old graffiti carried a variety of depressing messages: Don’t Repent, God is Dead, and We Deserved It.
Ahh, graffiti. The voice of the rebels, the vandals, and the disenchanted. It had a long history, dating back at least as far as ancient Rome. How long would this particular graffiti last? Would it outlive the human race? What would the archaics make of it?
He turned his attention back to the road. He still saw the shadowy buildings. But he also noticed a new shadow, one that was shifting and vibrating.
Group One pulled to a halt and the caravan stopped behind them. Caplan drove over some rubble and entered the far left lane. Like all the others, this new behemoth towered above him. But he didn’t feel much fear toward it. It was just another obstacle between him and Savage.
Main Street veered off to his left. Ignoring a Do Not Enter sign, he drove onto the road. A little park rested on his right, complete with a crushed fountain, dilapidated benches, and moss-ridden trees. The ox behemoth stood on the opposite side of the park, its gaze focused on some point to the north.
Quietly, he backed the van over the curb and onto a brick walkway abutting the park. Group Two split up and drove to either side of the van. Their gun turrets swung into position.
Caplan placed his lips close to the radio. “Is everyone ready?”
“Group One is with the caravan,” George replied.
“Group Two is good to go,” Ross said.
“Power up the infrasound weapon,” Caplan said.
Teo’s fingers flicked a variety of switches. “Powered.”
“Open the doors.”
Elliott unlatched the doors. Silently, she shoved them open. “Open.”
“We should be able to do this without gunfire,” Caplan said into the radio. “So, keep your turrets in check, Group Two. Don’t open up unless the behemoth advances on us.”
“Understood,” Ross replied.
Caplan glanced at Teo. “Activate infrasound.”
Her hands flew over the audio equipment. “Infrasound activated.” She gave a cursory look at her screen. “Frequency and signal are both good.”
The ox behemoth stiffened up at once and offered a soft bellow to the sky. Facing northeast, it took a few steps down Third Street.
Caplan edged the van in reverse over some pulverized benches and then onto a snowy road. He maneuvered around a dead tree, between two sagging fences, and onto a chipped sidewalk. Moments later, the van bumped into the intersection of Broadway and Third.
As Group Two took up flanking positions, he watched the ox behemoth retreat down Third Street. It covered a distance of about one hundred yards before coming to a halt. Its head twisted toward the van. Despite the dim light, Caplan could still see its lava-orange eyes.
“Okay,” he said into the radio. “The coast is clear. Group One, take the caravan and—”
The sound of whirring rotors stopped him cold. Sudden bursts of noise pierced the dark sky. Moments later, bullets sliced through the roof.
Mills ducked her head. Teo and Elliott threw themselves to the floor.
The gunfire swept past the van and lit into one of Group Two’s armored cars. The driver twisted the wheel and stomped on the gas pedal. The vehicle smashed up against the van, pinning it against Ross’ vehicle in the process.
Caplan slammed into his seatbelt. Shaking off the cobwebs, he watched the helicopter disappear behind an office building. “It’s Chenoa,” he said, his fingers tightening around the wheel. “She must’ve sent another drone to track us.”
“We need to find cover,” Mills said.
He glanced at the office building. One corner was recessed and supported by thick columns. There was enough space to hold the van and a few other vehicles, too. “Group Two, take cover under the office building,” he called into the radio. “Group One, head for the bridge. There’s space beneath it.”
No one responded. He tried again. Again, no response. “The radio’s broken,” he said.
Teo exhaled. “That’s not the only thing that’s broken.”
He whirled around. Icy tentacles slipped down his spine. “The infrasound weapon?”
“It took two bullets. I can fix it, but it’ll take time.”
Time, unfortunately, was a luxury they didn’t possess. With the van still in reverse, he pressed on the gas pedal. Metal squealed as the van scraped past the two armored vehicles.
The behemoth turned its entire body around. It squared its shoulders. Another bellow rose out into the night.
Caplan shifted gears. Driving onto the sidewalk, he slipped between a pair of columns.
The ground rumbled. Apprehension filled his chest and he cast a tentative look at the ox behemoth. Sure enough, it had taken a tiny step forward. It snorted through its nostrils. Then it took a second step. A third step. A fourth step.
More gunfire filtered down from above. Engines roared in response.
“The chopper’s targeting the caravan,” Mills cried.
The engine noises gained volume. Meanwhile, the helicopter passed over the office building again. Its cannons opened fire, riddling Group Two with bullets. Fortunately, the armor repelled the attack.
Tires screeched as the armored cars reversed into the intersection. They arrived at the same time as the caravan. Deafening bangs rang out as four or five armor-plated sedans crashed into the armored vehicles. Tires popped and vehicles skidded across the icy road.
Doors flew open. People, bruised and bloodied, lurched outside into the snow and ice. The helicopter shot overhead, stitching the area with brutal gunfire. It came to a halt about one hundred feet west along Broadway.
“What now?” Mills wondered.
The helicopter descended to the street, stopping about six feet above the pavement. The cabin door slid open. Seven figures spilt out onto the ice.
The chopper rose up into the sky. Seconds later, it flew off to the north. Meanwhile, the seven figures picked themselves off the ground. They broke into a run, heading straight for the tangled mess of vehicles.
Shifting his gaze, Caplan saw dozens of people, dazed and hurt, milling about the street. He needed to help them.
As he reached for his seatbelt, he caught a closer look at one of the seven approaching figures. His eyes popped. He’d seen her before. And she was no ordinary person. In fact, she wasn’t a person at all.
It was Lucy, the archaic.
Chapter 47
Date: December 2, 2017, 4:12 a.m.; Location: Kendall Square, Cambridge, MA
Lucy led the six other archaics into the intersection. They pounced on people and threw them to the pavement. Then they began pounding their chests and clawing their faces. A dozen Danter residents scrambled to help their friends. They were thrown back but more came to join them. In seconds, a full-blown war erupted between the two species.
Caplan’s mind rewound to his conversation with Corbotch. Just seven archaics—including Lucy—currently exist, the man had said. At midnight on December Third, two hundred and fifty-six others will join their ranks.
That was, of course, just the first wave. Other waves would soon follow. They’d splash across Earth, engulfing the last of humanity. Only those holed up in Savage Station would survive.
Tearing his eyes from the carnage, he looked down Third Street. The ox behemoth stared back at him. It had halted for the moment, perhaps apprehensive about another infrasound attack. But it wouldn’t hold back forever.
“Try to fix the infrasound weapon,” he told Teo. “I’m going to help the others.”
Caplan raced outside. Mills grabbed her bow and quiver and joined him. A chill
y wind assaulted their skin as they darted toward the intersection.
Up ahead, Caplan saw Toland roll out from behind a sedan, locked in a death grip with a male archaic. Meanwhile, another archaic climbed on top of Devon Staton, manager of Danter Federal Credit Union. The creature pounded Staton’s chest. Staton struggled to defend himself without much luck.
A wild scream filled Caplan’s ears. Whirling in a quarter-circle, he saw a female archaic bearing down on him. He grabbed an axe from his belt. But before he could swing it, the archaic bowled him over.
His back crashed into the icy pavement and he lost the axe. The archaic mounted him and slammed a fist at his chest. He gasped in agony.
The archaic raised another fist. But before it could strike, its eyes bulged and it slumped to the ground.
Mills yanked her arrow out of the archaic’s skull and popped it back into her bowstring. Her face was tight. Her eyes were unreadable.
He grabbed his axe from the ground and rose to his feet. “Nice shot.”
“I aim to please.”
It was a lousy pun but it still brought the tiniest of smiles to his lips. However, that smile died the instant he glanced at the dead female archaic. A lump formed in his throat. Once upon a time, it—she—had been a woman. A woman with a family, friends, desires, and hobbies. But that woman was now gone, replaced by this horrid, bloodthirsty creation. Was this to be Morgan’s fate as well?
Looking around, he saw the tide had turned. Four archaics, including the one at his feet, had fallen. The other three, including Lucy, were on the defensive. But the damage had been done.
His gaze focused in on the many corpses. Randy Dewar, the elderly pharmacist who’d once slipped a free candy bar his way. Raji Kharel, the grumpy owner of Raji’s Diner. And Erin Vosseller, housewife and part-time writer on the joys of rustic living. There were others too, over a dozen in total.
The ox behemoth shook its head back and forth. Its horns ripped through the glass exterior of a tall building and tore away large chunks of the façade. With thumping footsteps, it started toward the intersection.
Caplan looked down Broadway. He saw a gaping hole in a red brick building. There was no sign, but from his vantage point, it looked like a parking garage.
“Take everyone there.” He pointed at the garage. “Once you’re inside, get out of sight.”
“What about you?” Mills asked.
“I’m going to get Tricia and Sydney.”
As Mills spread the word, Caplan ran back to the van. “Well?” he asked.
“I need more time,” Teo said.
“We’re out of time. Come on.”
While he grabbed the duffel bag, Teo scrambled out of the van. Elliott tried to follow her, but her knees buckled when she touched the ground.
“I got you.” Teo slid under Elliott’s arm.
Shockwaves struck the street. Hunching down, Caplan led his friends to one of the many gray columns helping to prop up the office building.
Debris and dust exploded into the air. Caplan pushed Teo and Elliott ahead of him and ran out into the intersection. Taking cover behind one of the sedans, he looked back and saw the ox behemoth ramming its horns into the office building. The building wavered for a moment.
Then it collapsed.__
It came down all at once, burying the van—and the broken infrasound weapon—beneath tons of steel, concrete, and glass.
His lips tightened. Their greatest weapon was now gone. And unless they reached the garage soon, he and his friends would surely share its fate.
Chapter 48
Date: December 2, 2017, 4:12 a.m.; Location: Rockford, NH
Saber kicked its front paws into the air. Seconds later, they came smashing back to the snow. Shockwaves ripped through the soil, all the way over to it. ArcSim. Otherwise known as Arctodus simus, or short-faced bear.
ArcSim stood still and silent as an icy breeze crested through its wiry, black fur. Saber had doubled in size since escaping the Vallerio Forest seventeen months ago. Now, its shoulders rose some sixty feet into the air, making it roughly equivalent to the massive bear.
ArcSim rose up on its hind legs. Its body slowly unfolded until it stood over one hundred feet tall. Its lips curled back, exposing its bloodstained teeth. A mighty growl erupted from the depths of its being.
Saber locked eyes with ArcSim. It knew the creature. Not by sight or sound, but from a much deeper place. A place buried within its very soul.
The two behemoths had exchanged signals a long time ago, back in that vast, dense forest. Recognizing ArcSim’s enormous strength, Saber had set out to destroy it. But tremendous heat and blinding light had gotten in its way. Disoriented, it had stumbled upon that little flying object in the clearing. It had seen—and smelled—the prey within it. And then the scent was gone. The infernal ringing noise had started shortly afterward. The two things, it figured, were tied together somehow. Stop the scent, stop the ringing. Ahh, that scent … where was it now?
ArcSim fell back to the snow-covered soil. A second shockwave, bigger than the one caused by Saber, swept through the ground.
Saber bared its teeth. While it had battled behemoths in the past, none of those fights had lasted for more than a few minutes. Once those creatures had tested its strength, they’d turned tail. Saber, of course, had chased them down and killed them. Always. Not because it wanted to feast on their remains, but because nothing could be allowed to stand in its way.
But ArcSim was different than those other behemoths. It was bigger, stronger, more aggressive. Its hostility was off the charts and Saber knew it wouldn’t back down from a fight.
Plagued by that infernal ringing noise, it strode forward. Just ahead, it spotted several of those little structures preferred by prey. Oh, how it ached for prey. For their pungent red blood and the relief that came with it.
ArcSim trotted out to meet it. The two behemoths circled each other for a few moments, their eyes sizing up one another’s enormous bodies. Then ArcSim dipped its head. Saber lunged at it with both front paws. ArcSim shook off the blows and plowed forward, knocking Saber back twenty feet.
Sliding to a stop, Saber coiled up its rear legs. Leaping into the air, it sank its teeth into ArcSim’s skull. Growling, the enormous bear gave its head a couple of violent shakes. Saber held on for a few seconds, but was ultimately thrown to the ground.
It was an awe-inspiring show of strength. And yet, Saber felt no fear, no apprehension. Simply put, ArcSim was just another obstacle to its ultimate goal. Nothing more, nothing less.
ArcSim growled. Blood began to pour from a deep gouge on its face.
Saber’s adrenaline surged. Rising up again, it went into attack mode, swinging a series of paws at the gouge.
ArcSim batted away most of the blows, but a few deepened the gouge and one caught its eye. Emitting a deep bellow, it backed up a few steps, crushing a tiny structure in the process.
Saber circled ArcSim once, then twice. It moved quickly, forcing the gigantic bear to keep up. In response, ArcSim rose up on its hind legs. Saber feinted low. ArcSim took the bait and dropped back to the ground. And that was when Saber made its move.
Leaping up, it crunched its teeth into the soft spot between the creature’s neck and right shoulder. ArcSim slumped and let out a mighty wail.
Saber slammed its body into the behemoth. With a soft crash, the short-faced bear fell onto its side. Before it could get up, Saber tore into its belly, slicing through thick hide and piercing organs and entrails.
ArcSim struggled for another few minutes. Then it exhaled a soft gasp and fell still. Saber paused just long enough to make sure the creature was dead. Then it stepped over the corpse, triumphant in victory. Quickly, it checked the surviving little structures for prey. Then it continued onward, in search of the scent.
Always in search of the scent.
Chapter 49
Date: December 2, 2017, 4:19 a.m.; Location: Kendall Square, Cambridge, MA
Hooves struck
pavement as the ox behemoth passed into the intersection. Lowering its head to the ground, it began feasting on Randy Dewar’s dead body.
Caplan winced at the sound of crunching bone and flesh. Hunching behind a gray sedan, he cast a glance at Teo and Elliott.
Elliott sat on the pavement, fighting off shivers. A bullet had grazed her right thigh. Teo knelt behind Elliott, rubbing the woman’s shoulders in a vain attempt to warm her up.
“How’s your leg?” Caplan whispered.
Gently, Elliott touched the wound. Her mouth twitched. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” Teo looked at Caplan. “She’s going to need our help.”
The behemoth crossed to another corpse. In the process, it stepped on Lucy’s writhing form. A slight gasp rang out, along with a gross, squishing noise.
The fastest way to the parking garage was to travel in a straight line. But that meant staying out in the open for a long stretch of time. Peering around the sedan, Caplan saw a large parking lot situated across from the garage. It ran all the way up to the demolished office building. Bushes, thin and sickly, gave it a bit of cover. “I’ll take one side, you take the other,” he told Teo. “Head for the parking lot. Stay low and watch your step. We need to make as little noise as possible.”
She nodded.
He waited for the behemoth to find another corpse. Then he slipped under Elliott’s right arm and helped her stand up. Teo slid under the woman’s left arm and together, they helped her around the sedan. Picking up speed, they hurried out of the intersection and slipped through the bushes.
Crouching down behind the thin vegetation, they waited for the behemoth to find another corpse. Then they snuck into the snowy parking lot. They weaved between abandoned vehicles, passing old bodies, broken suitcases, and a variety of busted gadgets and phones.
They stopped across from the dark parking garage. Six lanes, two of them intended for bicycles, were all that stood between them and temporary refuge.
