“No,” he said. “We don’t want to draw attention.” Fitz pulled his knife and jammed it into the creature’s skull with a crunch. Without hesitation, Fitz continued on. Cole followed him up the steps into the building. The glass doors were blown out. The body of another dead Marine lay slumped over the front desk, a pistol hanging loosely from a gloved hand. The lights were dim but still working.
“Clear,” Fitz said, inching the door open with the barrel of his rifle. Inside, he swung the weapon over his shoulder and pulled out his pistol.
Together the two men covered the space, following a trail of blood leading to a dark intersection. The hallway to the left led to the conference rooms and labs; the one to the right led to the personnel quarters. That’s where Kate and the girls would be.
“Why the hell would someone turn off the lights?” Cole asked.
“Who knows,” Fitz said. “Keep moving.”
A flashing red light flickered in the open doorway, illuminating the space with a ghostly glow like a gateway to hell. “Keep quiet,” he said, flipping on his night vision and pushing open the door.
They crept forward into the hallway, the sound of his metal blades clanking on the floor. Fitz cringed with every step. He policed the space with his pistol, swinging it up and down, checking the ceiling and shadowy corners for the creatures. Instead he found dead scientists, their bodies battered and torn. Blood speckled the walls, floor, and even the ceiling. Fitz gagged when he smelled the sour scent of rotting fruit. It was the awful perfume of the Variants.
The monsters were close.
Smooth and slow, he led his overweight comrade through the carnage, clearing each room. By the time they got to the end of the hall, his heart had climbed into his throat. He felt every beat, the pulse throbbing inside his skull.
Fitz slipped into the final room with his pistol firm in his hands. The green optics revealed a small twin bed, desk, and closet.
Empty.
Exhaling, he lowered his weapon. Then he heard a crunching noise. Cole bumped into him, startled.
“What the hell was that?” the man asked.
Raising a finger to his lips, Fitz moved back into the hallway. He cautiously approached the door leading to the next hallway.
A clacking sound followed, and then a deep crunch like the snap of a bone. The noises came from the other side of the door. There was a clicking and then another crunch from the passage beyond. Fitz and Cole both took a step back, exchanging glances.
“On three,” Fitz said, reaching for the handle and raising his pistol.
Cole’s eyes hardened and he shook his head. “No, man, let’s just stay here.”
“You can stay, but I’m going in,” Fitz replied. He’d made a promise to Beckham and he wasn’t going to break it, no matter how terrified he was. Fitz was a Marine, and Marines didn’t run from a fight.
“One.
“Two.”
Cole backed away and shouldered his rifle.
“Three.” Fitz yanked the door open and trained his pistol on a Variant. The creature’s face was buried in the exposed stomach of a female scientist. Bodies clogged the hallway. He hesitated before pulling the trigger, hoping that he wasn’t too late, hoping the woman wasn’t Kate.
Night had fallen on New York City. Shrouded in complete darkness, the convoy rolled to a stop at the intersection of the Avenue of the Americas. The door to the command Humvee opened, and Lieutenant Gates stepped into the ash. He staggered away from the vehicle like he was drunk.
With his NVGs active, Beckham could see why 50th Street was impassable. The GE building and Rockefeller Center were reduced to stubs of metal and rebar. Stone, brick, and other debris formed a mountain that ended at the edge of the intersection. Remains of a Radio City sign protruded from the rubble.
The view was horrifying and breathtaking at the same time. This was where Gates said the convoy would experience the most resistance, but as Beckham scanned the area, he didn’t see how anything, even the Variants, could have survived the blasts.
Then a voice cried out, “Contact!”
A pair of Marines rushed over to the debris and aimed their weapons at the pile of destruction.
“Hold position,” Gates yelled. Sergeant Valdez and the lieutenant approached carefully. Beckham hustled over to the Marines. The crushed body of a Variant jutted out of the wreckage. The skin on its torso was burnt away, exposing glistening muscles and fat. By some miracle it was still alive, twisting and lurching as it struggled to get free.
“Jesus,” Valdez muttered. “Probably should put this one out of his misery before he alerts his friends.”
“They already know we’re here,” Beckham replied. The creature reached up with mutated hands. The nails curled into sharp tips. They had to be four or five inches long. The creature pressed its swollen lips together with a pop. It tried to let a scream fly, but only a faint gurgle escaped its mouth.
“Thing’s not going to alert anyone,” Gates said. He looked to the right. “Keep moving. We’re almost to our final objective. I want to get this FOB set up ASAP.”
Valdez nodded and whistled to the vehicle commanders. Then he flashed an advance signal. The men pulled the spotlights away from the crumbled buildings, and their bright white beams cut through the night.
Beckham remained at the wreckage, wondering what the Variants were waiting for. They had the advantage of darkness. His gut told him something was wrong, that the Variants were planning something.
The longer he waited for the convoy to start rolling, the more the sixth sense intensified. He suddenly thought of Kate, Riley, and Horn’s girls. Had something happened on Plum Island? He gave his helmet a strong pat, quashing the concerns before they had a chance to take hold. From the moment he boarded the Black Hawk, he had promised himself he wouldn’t think of Kate.
The beam from a spotlight caught him in the face. He flipped up his NVGs and shielded his eyes with a hand, squinting through his fingers.
“Let’s roll,” Valdez shouted from inside the turret of a Humvee. He gripped the .50 cal and trained it on the street. “Keep sharp!”
Black Reaper and Steam Beast screamed, their tracks reversing and then turning to the south. The Humvees drove after them.
“Six more blocks to go,” Beckham muttered. Team Ghost fell into line and followed the platoon down the Avenue of the Americas. The street was twice the size of 50th and considerably less clogged. The Bradleys weaved around the derelict vehicles and plowed the others out of the way.
Beckham kept close to Horn. The last thing he wanted was to lose his brother in the chaos of the attack they all knew was coming. They walked in silence, glass crunching under the layer of ash and dust covering the sidewalk.
“How do you think the other platoons are doing?” Horn asked.
Beckham replied with a shrug. “Hopefully better than us.” He hadn’t heard a single gunshot or explosion for five hours.
He strained to hear something besides the scraping of metal. He would have given anything to hear a gunshot from one of the other platoons, evidence that there were still Marines out there fighting.
Horn stepped off the curb and glanced up at the skyscrapers. “Where the hell do you think all the other survivors are? Rex couldn’t be the only one.”
“Maybe there aren’t any,” said a voice behind them. It was Chow. Jinx followed him through the ash, leaving a trail of footprints behind like they were walking through snow. There wasn’t much to say after that.
Fifteen minutes passed and the armored vehicles were pushing through the second intersection with 48th Street. Up ahead, the dark mouth of a subway entrance yawned. Beckham waited for the Variants, but none came. He lowered his weapon to give his arms a break and checked the Gap store on his right. He saw the scorched body of a headless female manikin. Her clothes were burned away. The other five models were all twisted from the heat of the firebombs. But there was one that looked unscathed behind the others, one with a head. Beckham’s
hands found his weapon, and he narrowed his focus on the figure.
It moved.
His heart rate rose along with the muzzle of his MP5, but the creature disappeared before Beckham could pull the trigger.
“Contacts!” another Marine yelled somewhere across the street.
Beckham backed away from the store and joined Horn.
“I don’t see shit,” Chow said from a few feet away. “Anyone got eyes?”
Jinx took a knee and angled his rifle toward the subway station. “There!” he yelled.
Suddenly, the street was alive with motion. The Variants streamed out of the subway entrance, climbing over one another and leaping toward the convoy. The grotesque snapping of their movements enraged Beckham. He was ready to fight. To kill.
Marines ran for cover behind the vehicles. But for one man it was too late. Two Variants tackled the Marine and pulled him, screaming, into the thick of the growing horde.
Valdez swung his turret into position and opened fire with his .50 cal. The bullets punched through the swarm, splattering the street with blood.
Beckham kept the Gap store in his peripheral as he fired. The flood of monsters continued from the depths of the subway station. He changed magazines as the Bradleys both maneuvered their turrets into position. Fire from their M242 chain guns erupted simultaneously. The wave of Variants disappeared in a cloud of crimson as the 25mm rounds found targets.
Beckham held his palm facing out and then swiped it up and down in front of his face, yelling, “Cease fire!” He wanted his team to conserve ammo since it was obvious the Bradleys had the fight under control.
Soon, the layer of ash lining the street was soaked with blood and covered in body parts. A Marine to the side of the convoy fired a LAW rocket at the subway station as more of the creatures continued to pile out. The missile streaked across the road and detonated with a deafening explosion. A fireball rose from the stairway as the walls caved in on top of the horde and sealed the passage. Chunks of gore and cement flew out of the blast. Pieces bounced off the ground and rolled to a stop in the scarlet ash.
“Cease fire!” Valdez shouted. “Check the man next to you. See if anyone’s missing.”
Heavy silence followed.
“They got McDonnell,” a Marine finally shouted.
“Anyone else?”
Somewhere down the street, a dying Variant let out a screech. A single shot ended its suffering.
Beckham checked his own team. Five helmets. Then he looked for the other strike teams. It looked like they were all there.
He breathed a sigh of relief and mentally counted their remaining numbers. With ten Marines missing and three confirmed KIA, 1st Platoon had forty-seven men left to fight. Not many to face an army numbering in the millions. Team Ghost wasn’t new to shitty odds; the enemy always seemed to outnumber them. But this took it to an entirely new level.
-19-
Kate took a closer look at the Marine who helped them escape from Building 1. He’d said his name was Jackson. They’d stopped under a circle of light from an industrial pole as he swept his weapon over the concrete path ahead. The calm, confident sparkle in his eyes didn’t reflect his age. He couldn’t have been more than nineteen years old. Just a boy, Kate thought. But he had killed two of the Variants like a battle-hardened Marine, with single shots to their heads.
After clearing the area, Jackson signaled for the small group to continue. Holding Jenny’s and Tasha’s hands, Kate trailed Ellis and a handful of other scientists. She counted heads as the light spilled over them. Only nine of them had made it out of the lab building.
Cindy wasn’t one of them.
A flashback to the chaos raced across her mind and she remembered the Variant pouncing on Cindy. Her thrashing arms. Her screams. And then silence.
Kate bent over to throw up, dry heaving on the ground.
Tasha and Jenny yanked on her sleeves. She wiped her mouth off with a sweep of her forearm and then grabbed their hands. She still didn’t quite believe this was all happening. The base was supposed to be secure.
Safe.
The word made her want to laugh. How could she have been so naïve? The Variants couldn’t be caged like a dog. They were intelligent, powerful predators. Kate should have known they were too dangerous to keep locked up. She thought of Fitz and Riley, wondering if they were okay.
The girls were crying at her side as they ran. Footfalls pounded the concrete. There were other human sounds. Labored breathing. Coughing and whimpering.
“Come on!” Jackson insisted. He ran past Building 2 and pointed at the third dome in the distance. He was leading them to the medical facility. Kate risked a glance over her shoulder. There was movement outside Building 1. She squinted, but the shapes melted away.
Another explosion lit up the sky. The chopper was completely engulfed now, the full tank of gas burning out of control.
Everything seemed surreal. A dream.
A tug on her right hand forced her to turn back to the others. They were only a hundred yards from Building 3. Two silhouettes jogged down the steps. Kate’s heart jumped again, but then she saw the rifles.
The soldiers moved into the dim light with their weapons shouldered.
“Get inside!” one of them shouted.
“Thank you,” Kate whispered to Jackson as she led the girls into the building.
“Doing my job, ma’am.” He paused and looked behind them. “I think that’s it.”
“There have to be more survivors,” said the other soldier.
She lost track of their conversation as she followed Ellis and the others through the front doors. Riley was waiting in the atrium in his wheelchair, a pistol lying on his lap “What the hell’s going on?” His eyes skittered from face to face.
“Kate,” he said. “What the hell?”
Gripping the crying girls’ hands tighter, she said, “The base has been overrun.” She shook her head and looked back at the door. “I don’t…”
Ellis took over. “A chopper full of Variants crash-landed. They’re rampaging through the base, building by building.”
Kate flinched when the doors opened. She backed away, pulling the girls with her. Jackson peered through the gap. “We’re going to hold them here. You guys find a place to hide and lock the doors from inside.”
“What?” Kate said, shocked. “You’re not going to come with us?”
The Marine narrowed his blue eyes on her and shook his head. “I’m going to do what I was ordered to do. I’m going to protect this base.”
Kate marveled at the young man’s heroism. The world needed men like him, men that were willing to make sacrifices. Men like Beckham.
“Thank you,” she said again.
Jackson handed his sidearm to Ellis. “Take this.” Then he looked over at Riley. “Keep ‘em safe.”
“Good luck,” Riley said. He checked the magazine in his pistol and then chambered a round.
More screams sounded in the distance.
“Jackson, get back out here,” one of the soldiers shouted.
The Marine exchanged one final look with Kate and then closed the door.
Ellis quickly locked it behind him with a twist. “We should go to the ICU and lock down every ward on our way. Those things will have a hell of a time getting through.”
“Let’s move,” Riley said. He wheeled down the atrium and into the hallway connecting to the medical wings. There were three total, and the ICU was the final compartment.
They heard gunfire before they were able to secure the first doors. Kate flinched at every crack. It was over in seconds. The high-pitched croaks and shrieks of the Variants reclaimed the night.
Kate and Ellis exchanged a look. They both knew what the sound meant. Jackson and the others were already dead.
“Hurry!” Riley shouted.
Tasha and Jenny ran down the hall with Kate by their side. Dr. Holder and his nurse, Tina, came bursting around the corner.
“What the hell i
s happening?” Holder asked.
Kate slid to a stop. “No time to talk. Where are the other patients?”
The doctor ran a hand through his thinning white hair. “Colonel Gibson’s it.”
Kate grabbed the girls and continued down the hallway, their shoes clicking on the tile. When they reached the final ward, the group stopped and huddled around the front desk. Ellis secured the doors and then raised his pistol, giving it a once-over like he’d never seen a gun before. “Anyone know how to shoot this?”
A familiar face emerged from the group of strangers. It was Rod from Toxicology. He’d helped them identify the nanostructures of VX-99 present in the Hemorrhage Virus. The scientist held out a shaky hand. “I do.”
“What the hell do we do now?” Holder asked.
Tina echoed the doctor’s words. “Yeah, what are we supposed to do? Just sit here and wait for those things?”
Her tone reminded Kate why she didn’t like the woman.
“Yeah. We wait,” Riley said. “I mean, you could go find a place to hide if you want. But I’m going to camp out right here. He raised his pistol at the door. “And then, when those things come through, I’m going to kill every last one of ‘em.”
Tina looked at the man like he was crazy and then took off running down the hall, disappearing into one of the vacant rooms. Dr. Holder shook his head and ran after her.
That left Rod, Kate, Ellis, the girls, and four other scientists she didn’t know. Everyone but Riley was staring at her, looking to the ‘savior of the world’ for strength. But like so many times before, Kate didn’t know what to do. Though she wouldn’t say it out loud, she was convinced this was the end of the line.
Metal clanged deep inside the facility. Kate tensed as she listened. The noise came again. Louder now. Closer.
“They’re in,” Riley said. He raised his pistol. “Stay behind me.”
The monsters were finally coming. And this time Kate had no way to stop them.
The convoy slowed to a stop at the corner of West 42nd. Spotlights swept over the street, the beams cutting through the night like a scalpel. Beckham tensed as he looked up at the Bank of America Tower. The Air Force had spared the area from the firebombs, but most of the windows were still shattered. As long as the frame was stable, he wasn’t going to sweat it. The biggest concern was clearing the building and finding a place to set up sniping positions.
Extinction Edge (The Extinction Cycle Book 2) Page 21
