by JT Sawyer
“I saw a couple of women on that helicopter that lifted off from the NSA building earlier—what’s their story?” said Blake.
“You probably mean Doc Munroe and Connelly,” said Nash with a smirk. “That’s a spider web you don’t want to get caught up in.”
“Why not? The younger one was hot, though I’m not opposed to a more seasoned lady.”
“Let’s just say they have vested interests in someone else, namely Reisner.”
Blake grinned. “Crimony—the world falls apart at the seams and the guy has two chicks gunnin’ for him. How do I get his job?”
“I’m sure he’d like to give it all up—his job, I mean,” said Porter. “Not sure how much more the boss can take, if you ask me.”
“He’s been through hell before—we all have,” said Nash.
“Yeah, but the difference between then and now is that we always knew the mission would eventually come to an end and we’d be returning home.”
Nash glanced back over at Blake. “What about that redhead you arrived with when we found you—Allison, I think her name was?”
Blake flung his chin up then shook his head. “Tough broad for sure, but I’d never fuck a woman from Anaheim. No, sir.”
Porter and Nash gave each other sideways glances then turned back to Blake as they broke out in muffled laughter.
“Good to see you still got a code you live by, Blake,” said Porter. “I can see we’re gonna get along just fine.”
Nash cut his laughter short when heard the distinct sound of a trash can tipping over in the alley across the street. He swung around and narrowed his eyes at the startling sight of a bewildered twenty-something man with a bruised face running towards them. The man’s stride increased when he spotted Nash and the others, and he bolted across the intersection into the alley.
Nash raised up his rifle when the man was thirty feet away, causing the frantic runner to halt. “That’s far enough.”
He fluttered his spindly fingers in the air. “Please don’t hurt me.” He leaned over, panting as his cheeks billowed. “I just made it out…of the tunnels…away from them.” He leaned his hand on a gutter, clutching it like he was dangling over a cliff. “You’re the first survivors…I’ve seen since yesterday.”
“Away from who?” said Porter.
The man’s lips trembled as he spoke, his whale-like eyes taking up most of his face. “That creature…the one who rules this city now.”
Chapter 14
As the helicopter set down on the back deck of the Lachesis, Sgt. Major Martinez was the first out, followed by Runa and the five other operators. Their oxygen masks and protective hoods were in place along with their NBC suits as they trotted quickly along the deck. Runa saw swaths of dried blood stains on the deck, and spent cartridges lying in every direction. What the hell happened here?
The portly captain of the ship was running along the starboard walkway, his eyes wild. Martinez and Runa froze in place, leveling their ARs at his chest as he rounded the corner beside a pallet of steel crates. The bearded figure acted like he had slammed into an invisible wall as he came to a halt, waving his hands.
“Thank God—thank God.” The man leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “You are the first people I seen in days.” He looked up, his chubby finger pointing at their faces. “You don’t need those—no infection here.”
Runa could tell the man was not a native speaker of English, but he couldn’t place the subtle accent. “I’m Jonas Runa with the CIA, and I’m guessing your boss was also my boss at one time—David Siegel, is that right?”
The man nodded. “Captain Eduardo Acosta, from Portugal originally, but the sea has been my home for many decades now. My crew and I were originally operating under orders from Mr. Siegel, that is correct.”
“We’ve been trying to reach this ship for some time—why haven’t you responded?” said Runa.
“The satellite dish on top of the bridge is destroyed from the battle we were in at a port off the coast of Venezuela.”
Martinez stepped forward, motioning with the barrel of his rifle. “Where’s the rest of your crew?”
“It is long story.” He gently placed his palm across a blood stain on his right bicep while clearing his throat. “It is just me and three of my mariners left. They are all still recovering from their wounds in the medical wing.”
“So, the creatures swarmed you at the port?” said Runa.
Acosta shook his head as he glanced pensively up at the bullet-riddled walls near the bridge. “No, here—just after my crew returned.” His voice cracked as he spoke in a hushed tone, his face becoming pale. “It was nighttime when my men made it back on board. I had no idea—no idea at all that the creatures could…” He ran his furrowed fingers along his tense face. “They say the devil is only found in hell but they’re wrong—he’s here on these shores.” His voice faltered, and he leaned back against the stack of pallets to support himself. “The creatures…they somehow made it out to our ship where we were moored a half-kilometer offshore. They boarded just as we departed—while our guard was down. Before we knew it, there were hundreds of them climbing onto the deck—and three alpha creatures.” A tear rolled down his quivering cheek. “There was no place to run. Those that did manage to seal themselves in a room only bought a little more time before the alphas tore the doors from their hinges like they were cardboard.”
He pointed to the charred walkway above, which showed signs of a grenade blast. “It wasn’t until two of the alphas were killed and the third knocked out by an explosion that we were able to defeat the remaining drones and drive the others back into the waters.” He chewed on his upper lip, trying to control the trembling. “By then it was too late; nineteen of my crew had already been butchered.”
Runa stepped forward, placing one hand on Acosta’s shoulder. “We’ve never faced an enemy like this before, let alone three alphas at once. Sounds like a fight that would have taken anyone by surprise.”
The captain dragged his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. He glanced down at the deck, his eyes narrowing. “There is something you should see in the lab down below. It may be of help if you can direct it to the right person.”
Runa and Martinez gave each other sideways glances. Runa swallowed, his throat suddenly parched. He recalled the horror he had faced the day Langley collapsed and how his remaining team was slowly picked apart as they fled on foot. He couldn’t imagine being trapped on this floating tomb with the memory of having lost so many people etched into the walls of every corridor on board. As they followed Acosta to the bridge, Runa thought of the man’s words and mentally concurred with his viewpoint. The devil is already here on our shores.
Chapter 15
Selene looked out the window of the Blackhawk as it set down on top of the CDC’s roof. She could see the downtown high-rises to the east and the vehicle-choked corridors of I-10 to the south.
“The infrastructure here seems to be more intact than other places we’ve been,” she shouted above the rotor wash to Murphy, who was sitting across from her.
“That’s the case in Albuquerque and Dallas too from what I’ve heard. The sunlight and heat must affect the activity levels of the paras so they’re not such busybodies during the day like they are in other cities.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Hell if I know though.”
The side doors slid open, and Selene unbuckled then hopped out. The wave of heat that flowed around her made her agree with Murphy’s assessment, and she welcomed the embrace of the arid warmth. Looking out over the city streets below, she could see there was a one-block perimeter of abandoned tanks and army trucks amidst a tangled fenceline of razor wire and barricades. Streaks of blood were slathered along the pavement and upon the turrets of the tanks, and Selene thought she could almost hear the echoes of gunfire and screaming from the battle that had unfolded here. She glanced down to the walkway near the lobby of the building and saw that the entrances and windows
were all shuttered with the thick steel walls typical of other CDC structures she had visited.
It might not be as bad here but, God, no place has escaped the destruction. She shook her head, folding her arms as she took in the empty streets below. She heard her name being called as the helicopter rotors came to a standstill. Glancing to her right, she saw a thirty-something man in a white lab coat trotting towards her from the stairwell door.
“Doctor Munroe—welcome to Phoenix. I’m Doctor Carl Noveck, the head of research here.” He whispered his title under his breath. Noveck had a hearty grin and vigorously reached to her side, pulling her hand up to shake it. “My goodness, it’s so good to have you here. I’ve heard so much about you over the years and followed your work on the 1918 pandemic.”
She ended the handshake, having to almost pry her fingers away. She was surprised by his enthusiasm, and wondered how long he had been locked inside the CDC. She saw three women in hospital scrubs walking towards the Blackhawk, and they seemed more than eager to help Murphy and the three other SEALs unload their gear.
“Thank you. I look forward to working with you.” She headed back to the helicopter as Amber’s stretcher was being unloaded. Selene grabbed the metallic briefcase that held the lung tissue sample from the Presidio gravesite and then pointed towards the stretcher while looking at Noveck. “With what’s in here and the insights that I hope Amber’s bloodwork can provide, we just might be able to make some progress in combatting the virus.”
She looked past Noveck to see if anyone else had emerged from the stairs. “I’d like to meet the rest of your research staff and then get started with my work, if that’s alright with you.”
“Of course, but…” He ran his fingers through his thick black hair. “Uhm, they didn’t tell you?”
She shook her head. “Tell me what—we’ve had limited radio contact since we left L.A.”
He waved one hand in the air. “It’s just me and a handful of medical techs along with twenty civilians. We’re it.”
Selene felt like the briefcase in her hand weighed a hundred pounds. She bit her lower lip then looked up at the cobalt sky. She forced her feet forward, trying to imagine how she was going to continue her research without the proper staff. At least Noveck seems enthusiastic and will be of help, though he doesn’t seem very seasoned. “So, how long have you worked at this facility and where did you do your fieldwork abroad?”
“Uhm, I’ve been here about two months. This was my first job out of med school.”
She almost tripped, her stride shortening as she caught her breath. Christ, he’s fresh off the boat—never even done assignments in hot zones abroad. This just keeps getting better. I’ve had more experience to draw upon in a field hospital in Liberia than here.
She narrowed her eyes as she walked towards the entrance to the stairs. Noveck followed along, trying to keep up with her rapid pace. Selene clenched her jaw, gripping the briefcase even tighter. This is really going to hamper my efforts, dammit.
Chapter 16
While Nash watched the intersection ahead, Blake stood near an abandoned fire truck, questioning the lanky figure who had mysteriously emerged from the alley. Blake knew the city better than anyone and would be able to piece together what the man was relaying about his escape from the clutches of the alpha. He said his name was Morgan Vitale, and his wispy voice matched his frail appearance, making Blake wonder if the twenty-two-year-old had always resembled someone who was so downtrodden.
“So you say you escaped from one of the creatures’ lairs and have been on the run since last night?” said Reisner as he stood next to the squatting man.
“That’s right. There were eight of us being kept in this concrete storage chamber in the tunnels below, a few miles from here.” He took a swig of water from the bottle Nash had given him then ran his bony fingers through his flossy black hair that hung down to his shoulders, rubbing his neck just below a dime-sized mole along his jawline.
“The creatures would come every few hours and take another person away, then we’d all hear them screaming in another room, like they were being slowly torn apart or…” He lowered his head, his hands trembling. “God, what were they doing?”
“Draining them,” said Blake. “There’s a queen—an alpha—who was doing that. She’s different than the others—gets nourishment from the glands of certain people like us or some shit.” He patted the young man on the shoulder. “I was in the same boat you were in a few days ago, kid. She had me and a bunch of others trapped in the tunnels until we busted out of there. You’ve got some stones to have made it this far.”
“Where exactly did you exit the tunnels?” said Porter. “Do you remember a street name or something prominent?”
Morgan looked up, his eyes gazing beyond Porter to a single cloud passing in front of the moon. “I…I don’t recall—a mile or two from the Sixth Street Viaduct by Pico Boulevard.”
Blake narrowed his eyes, seething out an exhale. “That’s the same area where we were first taken when they grabbed me and the others, only we were a long ways from the entrance.” He looked down at Morgan’s bruised wrists then over at his own meaty forearms, examining the nearly identical contusions from where the drones had clutched him after his capture. He recalled their raw strength and ferociousness followed by the constricting fear as he was dragged through the damp tunnels to what he thought would be his end. He felt a cold chill rush down his back as he heard the screams of the dead resounding throughout his weary brain.
“How did you get away?” said Reisner.
“I was the last one left in the holding room. The others—they were…they had already been…” He gulped, his eyelids fluttering like he was about to faint. “All I remember is seeing the shadows of those things guarding me disappearing in the tunnel light. They rushed off like something had startled them. That’s when I made my way out, running in the opposite direction through tunnel after tunnel. I ran for—it felt like I ran for hours until I made it out by Pico Boulevard. Then I just kept going.” He took another mouthful of his water, choking down the fluid as his pale fingers clutched the bottle.
“Seems like the Sixth Street Viaduct could do with a bunker-buster being dropped on it,” said Nash.
Reisner nodded, rubbing the tan stubble on his chin. “Agreed—we take out the alpha and I’m guessing the rest of the drones would be left to flounder. At least that would give any other survivors still left in this city a chance at gaining some ground.”
“What can you tell us about the direction you just came from—are the streets passable?” said Reisner. “We were planning to head that way, so anything you can relay would be helpful.”
Morgan shook his head. “You don’t want to go there—you can’t. Most of the streets have been blocked off.”
“What do you mean—from when the National Guard was here last week before the city fell?” said Blake.
“No—there’s a mountain of vehicles that have been shoved into place on every alley and street to the south and west. I saw a few hundred creatures shoving buses—actual city buses—and dozens of cars into a barricade. I had to wait until the clouds came in and blacked out the moon before I could get out of there. I barely climbed through a tiny opening in the barricade and it took me half an hour, just because I didn’t want any of those things spotting me.”
Reisner looked up at the others. “That’s what that grinding sound was that we were hearing most of the night—they’ve been sealing off our escape routes.”
“They’re just monsters—undead. They can’t really think like that.” Morgan said it more as a question than a statement as he looked up at the others.
“We don’t know yet what the alphas are capable of. I myself have seen some things I never thought possible,” said Reisner. “Regardless, we need to keep pushing on to the coast. It’s still our best bet for escape. With what Morgan just said, we should head north for half a mile and then see if we can get through one of the avenues leading w
est.” He glanced up at the sliver of sky above them then down at his watch. “We’ve got a few minutes until sunrise, so let’s get moving.” He patted Morgan on the arm. “You think you can keep up? How are you feeling?”
“Doesn’t matter—I’ll keep up, trust me.”
“What’d you do before all this, kid,” said Blake.
“Sculptor’s apprentice in an art studio not far from here.”
“Uhm, wow—that’s not something you hear every day,” said Blake, who tried not to roll his eyes. I can see you haven’t wasted your fucking life.
Blake wondered if Morgan could hold up for more than ten minutes. He seemed so frail, and reminded him of the legions of pasty white transplants from the East Coast who came out to L.A. after high school to try and land a job in Hollywood only to wind up working the midnight shift at McDonalds and never seeing the light of day for months. Still, the protector in Blake made him feel like he should keep an eye on the kid. Anyone who made it out alive from the queen bee’s lair has to have some balls. He tried to convince himself of his own statement as he looked at the dainty figure.
Nash whispered over his shoulder. “There it is again.”
Blake and the others glanced towards the end of the dark alley to where Nash was pointing. The rows of streetlights were flickering again. It was an intermittent pattern lasting several minutes, then stopping as the lights resumed their glow.
Blake stood up, offering his chunky hand to Morgan, who pried himself from the ground. “Not sure what the hell is going on anymore in this city, but stick by me, kid, and we’ll get through this.” He leaned in closer to whisper. “These dudes here are some spec-ops bad-asses, so we’re in good company. Besides, I’ve shaken their hands—they’re real men.”
“What are they doing here?”
“Not sure I have all the answers to that myself yet, but they said help will be on the way soon. We just gotta hold out until then.”
