Wood glared at Jensen. “Rest assured, Lieutenant Colonel. The weapon will be deployed according to priority over cities in the US and then our more rural areas. Now load—”
“What about our allies, sir?” Beckham asked.
“Did you not hear me earlier? They’re on their own,” Wood snapped. “What’s wrong with you people? You sound like the late General Kennor. Did you really think that we would send help to someplace like North Korea or Iraq? This is our chance to end all wars. We’ll wait until the enemy nations are overrun and then deploy the weapon.”
“There are people there,” Jensen said. “Innocent people. They aren’t our enemies. The Variants are. The wars we were fighting with each other ended the day the Hemorrhage virus got out of the fucking lab.”
“A lab you helped run, isn’t that right?” Kate asked in a sharp voice.
Wood shot her a venomous glare. “Cooper, Berg, escort the doctor back to her quarters. If she tries to resist, take her to a holding cell instead.”
“Lay a hand on her and it’s the last thing you do,” Beckham growled.
Jensen shook his head. “This is all wrong. We’re supposed to be saving people, not serving our own interests. When did you forget that, Wood? When did you become a monster?”
“I’m giving you a direct order,” Wood said, his blue eyes like chips of ice. “Load those choppers or you will be arrested and dealt with accordingly.”
Jensen didn’t budge. He spat a wad of tobacco on the ground and folded his arms across his chest. “You don’t get to decide who lives and who dies.”
“Wrong,” Wood said. In a swift motion, he drew his pistol and fired two shots into Jensen’s chest.
“No!” Beckham shouted. He pulled the strap of his rifle from his back and swung the muzzle toward Wood as Jensen crashed to the ground.
Major Smith dropped to his knees, yelling, “Jesus Christ! You shot him! You fucking shot him!”
Horn and Chow centered their guns on Berg and Cooper. The Medical Corps soldiers were taken off guard but recovered quickly and aimed their own weapons at the operators. Between Valentine, Wood, and the twins, Beckham and his men were outnumbered.
“You son of a fucking bitch,” Beckham said. He shifted his gaze from Wood to Jensen. The lieutenant colonel was bleeding out, blood gushing from his chest as Smith tried to apply pressure on the wounds.
“I would think very carefully about what you’re doing right now, son,” Wood said.
“I’m not your ‘son,’” Beckham snarled. “Step down, Wood. Step down before we take you down.”
Kate cupped her hand over her mouth as Berg and Cooper circled in. Four more Medical Corps soldiers came running from the post.
“Beckham, lower your weapon,” Valentine said. “You don’t want to do this.”
“You’re on the wrong side,” Beckham said. “And I will give no quarter when the bullets start flying.”
Jensen choked on his own blood, his chest heaving as he took in raspy, gurgling breaths. Kate wasn’t an expert, but it sounded like he had a collapsed lung. If they didn’t help him in the next few minutes, there was no way he’d make it.
“Get him a medic!” Beckham shouted.
Major Smith raised fingers slimy with blood and reached for his radio.
“You will do no such thing,” Wood said. “Smith, you’ve done admirable work here, but your loyalty to your former CO will earn you nothing but a court martial at this point. Make the right choice now, and I can promise you’ll go far. With Central gone, we need men like you in the upper ranks.”
Smith froze, his eyes dancing from Beckham to Wood. For a moment, he seemed to consider Wood’s offer, but then he lifted the radio.
Before he could speak, Valentine and the other six medical corps soldiers closed in. Kate watched in horror as they pointed their weapons at Smith and Beckham. The sudden crack of a rifle shot made them all flinch.
Wood’s face disappeared in a spray of bone, blood, and teeth.
Beckham pushed Kate to the ground and dropped to a knee as Wood’s body slumped to the asphalt. He fired at Berg in a blink of an eye. The rounds pierced Berg’s neck, and he slumped to the ground, clutching the holes. Scarlet poured through his fingers like a waterfall.
Kate’s world slowed to an agonizing pace as all hell broke loose. Two more distant cracks sounded, and two more of Wood’s men fell limply to the pavement. Screams of panic broke out from the crowd as the civilians ran for cover.
Valentine was firing wildly, not seeming to care where he aimed. Two shots snagged Horn, sending him flying backward. Chow let out a scream and fired a volley of rounds into Valentine’s gut. The sergeant fell to his knees, clutching his stomach and staring at Chow incredulously.
“You shot Horn, you son of a bitch!” Chow yelled as he put a bullet in Valentine’s skull.
Another crack sounded in the distance and Cooper dropped, leaving only two of Wood’s henchmen. One of them had centered his gun on Beckham before he was knocked to the ground by a blur of black and tan fur.
Apollo ripped out the man’s jugular vein and then turned on the final guard. Chow took the man out with a shot between the eyes before the dog could get to him.
In less than twenty seconds, it was over. Kate rose to her feet, trembling as she surveyed the damage. Wood and all seven of his men lay in puddles of their own blood. The only one still twitching was the man Apollo had attacked.
Chow fired a three-round burst into the fallen man’s body armor, painting the asphalt with crimson.
“Medic! I need a fucking medic,” Smith yelled over and over again into the radio. He pushed down on Jensen’s chest. “Lovato, you’re a doctor! Get over here and help him.”
Kate didn’t know how to explain that unless they got him to an emergency room, he wasn’t going to make it. She could build weapons to take a billion lives, but she couldn’t do anything to save Jensen from bleeding out in front of her. She rushed to his side nonetheless and did the only thing she could—she grabbed his hand to comfort him.
Distantly, she heard Reed shouting her name. She turned to see him fall to his knees beside Horn. Chow was already there, gripping the huge operator’s hand. Blood blossomed across his right bicep, but he seemed more shocked than hurt.
“I’m fine,” he grunted, struggling to sit up. He patted his flak jacket and then pressed a paw over the wound on his arm. Chow helped Horn up as Beckham hustled over and knelt by Jensen’s side. He squeezed next to Kate and took over compression from Major Smith, who slumped back onto the asphalt, his uniform stained up to the elbows with his commanding officer’s blood.
“Hang in there, sir. We’re going to get you help,” Beckham said.
“Beckham,” Jensen choked.
“I’m here.”
“You have to…” Jensen coughed, blood gurgling at his lips.
“Sir, just hang on,” Beckham said. He glanced up and yelled, “Where the fuck is that medic?”
Jensen fumbled with his holster and pulled a revolver. He didn’t have the strength to lift it, and his hand flopped back onto the ground. “I want…I want you to have this.”
Beckham looked down at the gun, and after a second of hesitation, he took it.
“I told you…she’s my girl,” Jensen said. “Take her. Defend the island. And make sure…” He gasped, choking as blood filled his lungs. When he spoke again, his once-powerful voice was barely a whisper. “Make sure Kryptonite gets deployed worldwide. Do the right thing. I know you will.”
“I will, sir. I promise you,” Beckham said.
By the time Doctor Hill arrived, Jensen was already dead, his dark eyes staring blankly at the sky.
Beckham slowly placed Jensen’s empty hand on his chest and then stood. Apollo, his snout still bloody, pressed his side against Beckham’s leg. The dog let out a low, melancholy whine like he understood what they had all just lost.
Beckham wanted to scream. He wanted to take Jensen’s gun and unload it into
Wood’s corpse, but even that wouldn’t make him feel better. Jensen hadn’t just been a friend; he had been one of the only good officers left. Now they were leaderless, and for the first time in his life, Beckham wasn’t sure what to do.
The sound of raised voices pulled Beckham’s attention to the concrete barriers where the rest of Wood’s men had gathered. The remaining Marines from Bragg were already disarming the Medical Corps soldiers. Riley had his pistol aimed at a man on the ground. Meg was by his side, her knife drawn and one of her crutches pushed down on the fallen soldier’s neck. The only member of Beckham’s team missing was Fitz.
He realized then it was the Marine who had saved their lives. Only he could have nailed those headshots. He saw Fitz rushing over to aid Riley and the other men that had been loyal to Jensen.
Beckham bent down and closed Jensen’s eyes. “Dr. Hill, get us a stretcher. I don’t want to leave him out here like this.”
“My God,” Hill said, looking at the other bodies. “What do we do with them?”
“For now, we leave Wood and his men here. I’ll bury the bastard in an unmarked grave next to Gibson. They can spend the rest of eternity rotting together,” Beckham said.
Hill nodded, radioed for a stretcher, and then ran toward the buildings with Smith. Beckham rose to his feet and looked for Kate. She was checking Horn’s arm.
“Keep pressure on the wound,” Kate said.
“I know the routine,” Horn said. “I better get to my girls.”
“I’ll go too,” Chow said.
The men took off at a trot, leaving Beckham alone with Kate. He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the death.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said. “I’m so sorry, Reed.”
Beckham shook his head and looked toward the horizon. He’d gotten his revenge on Wood and his men, but it did nothing to relieve the pain of losing Jensen.
They stood there in silence, Kate’s hand in his. Seconds turned into minutes as neither of them moved.
“What happens now?” Kate finally whispered.
Beckham stared into the dark sky, watching a cloud drift across an ocean of flickering stars. “We get Kryptonite ready and send it over every corner of the goddamn earth.”
Kate rested her head on his shoulder. “And after that?”
“We keep fighting,” he said. “And we never stop.”
The End of Book 3
Look for Book 4, Extinction Evolution, coming fall of 2015! For updates on the series, information on new releases, and exclusive giveaways, join Nicholas’s mailing list here.
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About the Author
Nicholas Sansbury Smith is the author of several post-apocalyptic books and short stories. He worked for the State of Iowa for nearly 10 years before switching careers to focus on his one true passion—writing. When he isn’t daydreaming about the apocalypse he’s likely racing in triathlons around the Midwest. He lives in Des Moines, Iowa with his family and several rescued animals.
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