The crazies didn’t use firearms, so gunfire was the last sound he expected to hear. When he spun to look back into the pathology lab, the entire lab was being shredded by automatic gunfire.
Coleman and Erin lay on the floor.
Neve had ducked down in her wheelchair.
Everything in the lab above waist height was being destroyed.
Coleman suddenly dove at Neve’s chair and took off pushing her toward the x-ray labs. Erin raced after them.
Craigson witnessed all this in a matter of seconds.
When he turned back, Myers held Justin by his shirt collar, already predicting the worst.
‘GO!’ shouted Craigson. ‘Fall back! Fall back!’
Myers didn’t hesitate.
Pulling Justin, Myers charged into the next room.
Craigson sprinted after them.
It wasn’t a room.
It was a short corridor.
As Craigson reached it, someone fired at him from behind. Craigson didn’t see the shooter. He just heard gunfire and suddenly the corridor wall near his shoulder exploded apart.
‘GO! GO! GO!’ Craigson yelled.
They had no choice.
Their orders were to protect Justin and they didn’t even have real firearms.
Craigson burst from the corridor. Myers and Justin were jumping over a marble counter. Behind the counter stood tall shelves stacked with small boxes.
A pharmacy, Craigson realized.
‘This way!’ yelled Myers.
Craigson dashed through the small waiting room and slid over the marble bench. As he slid, he saw Myers raising his weapon.
The shooter is right behind me, realized Craigson.
Myers fired.
Craigson spun to see an electro-dart thump into the gunman’s chest.
The man staggered back from the impact.
He staggered, but kept his footing.
Craigson saw no sparks. No blue arc of electricity. The man didn’t fall in a convulsing heap as fifty thousand volts punished his system.
‘His body armor,’ yelled Craigson as they ducked behind the counter. ‘It’s too thick!’
The metal prongs on the electro-dart couldn’t penetrate the man’s vest.
The man returned fire.
With real bullets.
Craigson took cover behind the marble counter as the man fired non-stop into the pharmacy.
Pieces of marble exploded off the counter. Bullets smashed into the shelves. Hundreds of bottles and boxes of medicine blasted apart.
Tablets flew everywhere.
Craigson had never seen so many tablets in his life.
An entire line of ceiling tiles collapsed over Craigson and Myers. Craigson shoved away a broken ceiling tile as the firing suddenly stopped.
He’s reloading.
In his haste to kill them, and perhaps over-confident after watching them flee, it sounded like the gunman had fired his weapon dry. If so, Craigson had about three seconds to react.
He only took two.
He swung his weapon over the counter.
He didn’t have time to aim.
The gunman had already thumped a fresh magazine into his weapon.
As the gunman cocked his weapon, Craigson fired.
The round hit the gunman squarely in the chest with rib-breaking force. The man staggered back three steps, almost fell, but recovered and kept his footing.
He was one tough son-of-a-bitch.
Craigson lined up another shot, but wasn’t fast enough.
Myers fired first.
This time Myers aimed.
The electro-dart flew across the waiting room and struck the man’s forehead. The dart’s prongs embedded themselves deeply into the man’s skull.
Craigson watched the man take the full charge to his brain. This time he didn’t keep his feet. His body seemed to shrink. He tumbled over a chair and thrashed around as the dart fried his brain.
‘His weapon,’ said Craigson. ‘We need his rifle. We need some real firepower.’
Craigson was halfway over the counter before Myers grabbed him.
‘Listen,’ Myers hissed.
Craigson heard them.
More gunmen.
All running toward the pharmacy.
Myers pulled Craigson toward the pharmacy’s back door.
Craigson struggled not to slip on all the tablets and slippery medicine covering the floor.
‘Where’s Justin?’
Myers looked around. ‘Shit. He’s gone. We have to catch him. Come on.’
The pharmacy’s rear door opened onto stairs. Craigson looked up and down the stairs for any sign of Justin.
Did he go up or down?
Myers pushed Craigson into the stairwell.
‘Get in there. They’re coming! Which way did he go?’
Craigson looked up and down.
He had absolutely no idea where Justin had gone.
Erin crawled through the hospital on her hands and knees.
She moved as quietly as possible.
The gunmen were searching everywhere. All around she heard their voices and radios. They would kill her if they found her. She had no doubt of that.
Who are these people? Do they think we’re sick?
It hadn’t felt like that. It had felt like an ambush.
It still seemed miraculous she’d survived. Coleman had saved her. He’d tackled her to the floor when the gunmen opened fire back in the pathology lab. The gunfire had sounded so loud that Erin couldn’t even hear Coleman yelling at her. She just saw his lips moving and then he took off pushing Neve into the x-ray lab.
She’d taken two crouching steps after them before the refrigerators exploded right beside her. The three fridges had glass doors, and each was stacked high with chemicals. A cocktail of chemicals sprayed out over Erin’s hair and face. She’d fallen backward, hit the floor and frantically tried to wipe the chemicals from her face.
All around her the air was full of bullets and flying glass and falling, frothing bottles of chemicals. She couldn’t follow any of the Marines.
She’d been trapped until a small section of the wall beside her fell apart, making a hole through to the next lab.
It was her only chance.
She’d shoved her head through. Then her arms. She’d squeezed herself through the wall and into the ultrasound lab. At first she’d crawled madly away from the gunfire.
Now she was crawling quietly.
If I keep going this way I’ll reach the main hospital entrance.
She needed to get off this level and reach the bridge. The bridge had a steel door that even bullets couldn’t penetrate.
She didn’t know what chemicals had splashed on her face, but the entire left side of her face and neck itched like crazy. Her left eye was puffy, inflamed, and watering so much she could barely open it. Her stinging eye grew worse every minute. The itching on her face and neck began to burn.
I need water. I need to wash my face and neck before this gets worse.
She paused outside an examination room and studied the cubicles where the hospital staff worked. She spotted a water cooler.
That’s what I need.
She crawled to the cooler, put her face under the spout and held down the lever. Cold water splashed her temple and washed over her face.
Jesus, that stings!
She kept the cold water running over her eye and face as long as she dared. The water ran down her shirt and soaked her pants where she knelt. She used a paper towel near the cooler to gently wipe her eye and face.
I have to keep moving.
About twenty cubicles offered private workspace for the hospital staff. She couldn’t hear anyone searching the cubicles. The partitions stood only shoulder-high, so she needed to stay low.
She didn’t hesitate.
Bent low, she dashed across to the cubicles and crouched in cover again. As quietly as possible she began weaving through the cubicles.
The hospital
entrance is close. I’m almost there.
She didn’t make it.
A giant hand clamped over her mouth. Strong arms reached from a cubicle and grabbed her. She kicked out, hitting nothing but air.
A familiar face appeared before her.
Corporal Forest put a finger to his lips. ‘Shhhhhh.’
He raised an eyebrow at her.
She nodded that she understood to keep quiet.
Sergeant King released her.
Forest put his lips close to her ear and whispered, ‘They heard you at the water cooler. They’re waiting four cubicles down. Don’t make a sound. Just follow us no matter what happens.’
Erin nodded, realizing she’d been crawling straight into a trap. If the Marines hadn’t intervened, she’d probably be dead by now.
She watched as the two Marines communicated in a series of hand gestures. They seemed to be disagreeing about something. Forest shook his head, but seemed to have reluctantly agreed with King’s instructions.
What’s going on? thought Erin. What’s going to happen?
King turned to face the aisle, putting his back to Erin. Forest grabbed Erin’s wrist tightly.
Something’s about to happen, realized Erin.
Then she heard it.
Barely.
She heard movement in the aisle, heading toward their cubicle.
Oh, my God. They’re so close. They’re right outside our cubicle!
Sergeant King launched himself at the cubicle wall. He hit the wall like a charging bull, turning the wall into a battering ram. The wall wasn’t heavy, but the Marine pushing it was very heavy and very strong.
Erin heard shouts of surprise as the cubicle wall smashed the gunmen off their feet. Forest stood and kicked the cubicle’s opposite corner. Plastic brackets snapped. Forest pulled Erin through the gap he’d made.
‘Stay low,’ he hissed.
They wove through the cubicles so fast that Erin completely lost her sense of direction. She heard shouting behind them. A moment later came gunfire.
‘What about King?’
‘He’ll meet us. Just keep moving.’
They reached the edge of the cubicles.
‘Where does that door go?’ pointed Forest.
‘It’s just a service door,’ replied Erin. ‘A stairwell.’
‘Open it,’ said Forest. ‘Hurry.’
Erin swiped open the door.
At the very same moment, Sergeant King crashed through a cubicle wall just meters away.
‘This way!’ Erin yelled at King.
Forest ran through the doorway, pushing Erin in first. King dove through behind them.
‘Get down!’ yelled King.
He dropped to the floor and kicked the door shut.
Erin dropped to the floor barely in time.
Bullets smashed into the door. Splinters of wood burst out all over them. The light above the doorway shattered and rained down glass and plastic. The door handle fell off and clattered on the stairwell’s metal landing.
Erin crawled away. Clear of the doorway, she leaped to her feet with the Marines right on her heels.
She didn’t need prompting.
She dashed down the metal stairs as gunfire tore the door right off its hinges.
‘We need to reach another level,’ Forest shouted.
Erin knew the staff service areas like the back of her hand. She reached the first intersection and chose a corridor without hesitation.
‘I can get us anywhere,’ she shouted over her shoulder. ‘You two just keep up!’
Justin had scrambled under the pharmacy’s marble counter when the gunfire broke out.
He covered his ears as the entire pharmacy collapsed around him. Boxes and shelving and ceiling tiles fell down everywhere, burying him under the counter.
When the firing paused, he kept completely still.
He listened.
He heard Myers and Craigson. They were leaving him behind!
He began squirming free, but stopped.
He heard boots.
Someone jumped over the bench above him.
The boots landed just inches from his face. Another man leaped over the counter, landing on the debris near Justin’s knees. They were almost on top of him. If they looked back, they’d see him instantly!
Neither did.
They both crouched behind the high pharmacy shelving.
Justin held his breath. If he moved even slightly, a box or a piece of ceiling tile would shift. They’d notice him for certain then.
The two gunmen waited only a moment before pursuing the Marines.
Justin squirmed out from under the debris, wincing at the noise.
I have to find Mom. She’s probably hiding somewhere like I am.
Justin quietly climbed over the counter and sneaked back up the passageway to the room with Elizabeth Green and the yellow life raft.
His mother had been in the very next room. She could be hiding anywhere. She may have even abandoned her wheelchair to crawl somewhere safe.
Justin gripped his wrench tightly and scanned the room.
‘Mom?’ he said quietly.
He heard something.
Is that her?
No. It was more gunmen.
Jesus, I have to hide!
He desperately scanned the room for somewhere to hide.
Beside Elizabeth’s body stood a waist-high cupboard. Justin wrenched open the door and pulled out the stored rolls of paper towels. He crammed himself inside the cupboard and closed the door.
Keep still, he told himself. Just wait for them to pass.
He waited, but couldn’t hear anything.
Are they gone? Maybe they didn’t even come into this room.
Justin slowly opened the door an inch.
He listened.
Nothing.
He opened it another inch.
Wait. What’s that sound?
Someone grabbed his wrist and hauled him from the cupboard. Justin panicked and attacked.
His wrench was caught midair and yanked from his hand.
Five men surrounded him. The tallest man grabbed Justin’s hair and shoved him against the wall so hard that Justin heard the wall crack.
Four of the men had guns.
No, not guns, realized Justin. They have flamethrowers.
‘If he moves, burn him,’ the tall man ordered.
Justin froze, absolutely terrified. He means me. He means they will burn me!
Still holding Justin’s wrench, the man in charge frowned over Elizabeth’s tray of belongings.
‘It’s not here,’ he said quietly. ‘They’ve taken it.’
Justin couldn’t take his eyes off the men with flamethrowers. He imagined flames rushing from those guns and setting his clothes on fire. Setting his hair on fire. They would probably even set his skin on fire.
Justin felt himself shaking. He didn’t want to be burned alive.
‘What’s your name, boy?’
The man holding Justin’s wrench pulled a chair close to Justin and sat down.
‘Justin Kershaw, sir.’
Justin could feel the heat from the flamethrowers. To his great relief, the man waved the flamethrowers back.
‘My name is Christov. I’m going to ask you some questions. You will tell me the answers. If you lie, you will die. Right here and right now. Do you understand, Justin?’
‘Yes, sir,’ stuttered Justin. He’d never felt so alone and scared in his life.
‘Where is the acid drive?’
‘I don’t know what that is,’ answered Justin.
Christov studied him. He looked disappointed.
‘I swear,’ repeated Justin. ‘I’ve never even heard of one.’
‘Then why did you come to the hospital?’
‘The Marines brought us here.’
Christov stood and began tapping the wrench on Justin’s shoulder. ‘How many Marines are on board?’
‘Five. I’ve only seen five.’
> ‘Who’s in charge? What’s his name?’
‘Coleman. Captain Coleman.’
‘Are more Marines coming?’
‘I don’t think so,’ answered Justin, feeling the wrench tap, tap, tapping on his shoulder.
Christov looked Justin up and down. ‘How old are you? Sixteen?’
‘Fourteen, sir.’
‘Why were the Marine’s dragging you around?’
‘They needed my mother’s help.’
‘Who’s your mother? The one in the wheelchair?’
Justin nodded.
‘They needed her help with what?’
‘With the sickness. My mother’s a virologist. She makes plans for pandemics. She was trying to help.’
Christov stared at Justin.
‘Does she work for the government?’ he asked. ‘The U.S. Government?’
Justin nodded slowly. ‘Sometimes. She works for lots of people. She’s a consultant.’
Christov started slapping the wrench into his palm.
‘Did you arrive with the Marines?’
‘No. We were here on vacation.’
‘What a lucky coincidence,’ spat Christov.
Justin could tell that Christov didn’t believe him.
‘It is a coincidence,’ rushed out Justin. ‘The Marines just wanted Mom’s help. They saved us and brought us here so Mom could look at the test results from the sick passengers.’
‘Why would your mother do that? Why would she risk your lives when everyone else abandoned ship?’
Christov pointed the wrench at Justin. ‘And don’t lie to me, boy. I’m warning you.’
‘The Marines promised to protect us,’ answered Justin. ‘That’s the truth. Two of them were ordered to keep me safe.’
Christov raised an eyebrow. ‘And do you feel safe?’
‘No,’ answered Justin. ‘I think you might kill me.’
Christov stared at Justin steadily. ‘You might be right, boy. But not yet.’
Chapter Thirteen
The door blocked their way.
Bolton pushed the map back into his faded overalls.
He lowered his welding mask.
‘Get back,’ he ordered.
His team retreated.
They were scared, but Bolton was excited. The cylinder strapped to his back contained pressurized oxygen. Beside that was a series of the most expensive lithium batteries money could buy. Connected to an electrical inverter, they provided more than enough energy to power a plasma cutter.
HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) Page 18
