The Tide (Book 3): Salvage

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  The rhythmic churn of chopper blades beating the air brought her some relief. A Huey descended to a small patch of open lawn. They just needed to get Evans a couple dozen more yards, and he’d be in the medics’ hands. The side doors of the chopper opened, and two Marines exited. They fired into the crowd of chasing Skulls. The door gunner swept an M240 back and forth. Bullets hummed overhead and then chewed into the monsters.

  The small contingency of reinforcements was enough to temporarily hold back the onslaught. Two medics rushed out to meet the group. They took Evans and lifted him into the chopper. Meredith and Andris joined the other Marines in providing cover fire.

  Meredith caught one Skull in her sights. She squeezed the trigger and watched rounds slam into its torso. Pockmarks and fractures formed in its armor, but it ignored the injuries and kept coming. The armor-piercing rounds just weren’t enough anymore. It took a head shot to finally bring the monster to its knees, still howling as blood gurgled from its mouth, and a second to finish it completely.

  The head shots became increasingly difficult as adrenaline plunged through Meredith and caused her limbs to tremble. Her nerves were fried. The beasts seemed harder and harder to kill. She plugged away at the Skulls with round after round as they continued to ooze from the NINDs building. Some, attracted by the intense gunfire and screams of their brethren, broke through the windows and doors of neighboring buildings.

  To the Marines’ credit, Meredith noted they didn’t turn tail and evac Evans immediately. Instead the door gunner continued to lay down a relentless barrage of gunfire. Ford and his two remaining men took careful shots, conserving their ammunition. Skulls piled up, their limbs tangled and bleeding.

  The gunfire quieted. Meredith spotted a clawed hand reaching out from a jumble of Skulls. One of the monsters pulled itself from under the pile. Its left leg dragged behind its body uselessly. It tried to stand but quivered and fell. Meredith played her barrel across its ugly maw. Its eyes caught hers, and she fired. The Skull dropped back into the dirt, weeping blood.

  Meredith used the back of her hand to wipe her forehead. Andris scanned the lawn and the parking lot then lowered his rifle.

  Ford jerked his chin at them. “Load up!”

  Andris gestured to the dead Skulls. “We cleared the fuckers out. Shouldn’t we at least go back and finished what we started?”

  “You heard your orders.”

  “Is someone else going to do our job for us?” Meredith asked. “Why are we bailing out in the middle of a mission?”

  Rollins and Grant sidled up to Ford. Their fingers tensed around their rifles. Ford’s eyes narrowed. He glanced between Andris and Meredith. “Command says we’re moving, I say we’re moving, then we’re fucking moving!”

  “Why the sudden change?” Andris said. “It makes no sense. We’ll be fine without Evans.”

  “It’s not about Evans,” Ford said through gritted teeth. He stared hard at Meredith. “It’s about—” He stopped himself, and she wondered what he’d been about to say. “Let’s move.”

  “Give us a reason why,” Meredith said. “At least tell us where we’re going.”

  Ford lifted one hand, and Grant and Rollins brought their rifles up. They aimed at Meredith and Andris.

  “You heard your orders,” Ford repeated, his eyes never leaving Meredith. “Apparently, you made things much easier for Command by splitting up from your little band of vigilantes. So let’s make it even easier by coming along now.”

  Meredith sagged as everything started to make sense. Her whistleblowing at the CIA had finally caught up to her. She’d been playing with fire by joining a mission under Kinsey’s command. He must have ties to whatever was left of the CIA. She’d been so worried about Dom placing his trust in Kinsey that she’d neglected to worry about herself.

  And now, she’d pay the penalty for letting her guard down.

  Ford leveled his gun at Meredith’s chest. “Drop your goddamned weapons.”

  -29-

  Dom gathered his team inside the vast atrium of the VPPL. Bullet holes marred what would otherwise be an impressive set of windows stretching almost three stories high. Warm sunlight poured over them and illuminated floating dust motes. Only the tap of the Hunters’ boots on the marble floors broke the silence. The space evoked a strange, if fleeting, sense of serenity. Dom also felt grateful; for once they were operating in a building that wasn’t a maze of narrow hallways and small rooms.

  “Dom, Lauren here,” the doctor’s voice said over the comm link. “Got your message about the Droolers. Peter and I ran some analyses.”

  Dom made a few swift hand gestures. His team spread out and took positions behind the large reception counter and the neighboring benches. “What’d you find?”

  “It’s a hyper-concentrated substance consisting mostly of hydrochloric acid—that’s also the main component of stomach acid.”

  “Concentrated enough to eat through Skull armor?” Dom asked.

  “My thoughts exactly. The acid would have no problem dissolving flesh and bone.”

  “Any way we can protect ourselves against it?” Dom asked, thinking of how the spray had eaten through Terrence’s fatigues and into his skin.

  “We’re working on it.”

  “Good. Is there some way to use the stuff against the Skulls?”

  Lauren paused. “I’m into medicine, not weapons. But I’ll pass on the request to the workshop. Chao and the gang might have better ideas.”

  “Good plan. Get on it ASAP, okay?”

  He expected the line to go quiet, but Lauren continued. “Dom, be vigilant out there. Peter and I were able to find out what’s causing the Goliath mutations, but we don’t know why it’s happening. The Oni Agent might be doing things to the bodies we never predicted.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Dom said. Lauren ended the call, and he turned to his team. “Hunters, on me. The main production facilities are through that corridor.” He nodded to indicate the wide hall.

  The group prowled in a tight formation. They passed by walls filled with photographs documenting the research and continuous development of the VPPL over the decades. All that seemed meaningless now. Thousands of years of human advancement, derailed by a single, terrible event. The distant sounds of gunfire and screaming Skulls seemed never-ending. Dom thought briefly of Meredith and hoped she wasn’t in the midst of the fighting. If something happened to her out here before he had a chance to talk to her again...he shook the thought away. His priority now was keeping himself and his team alive so they could clear the facility.

  A scraping sound broke the quiet. Several of the Hunters swiveled and trained their weapons on a set of double doors. A large sign above the entrance declared Bioreactors. This was the heart of the facility; the crucial machinery to mass-produce the components of vaccines would be found there. Dom signaled Miguel and Jenna to take the doors.

  It didn’t take long to find the source of the noise. Dom spotted a Skull with plated arms ending in claws that looked like macabre rakes. The shreds of a white clean suit hung from its spiked joints. The creature’s appearance reminded him of the first time he’d run into the monsters on the IBSL. But this time, he at least knew what they were up against. The creature aimlessly dragged its claws against the huge barrel-shaped metal bioreactors lining the center of the room.

  That was good; it meant the Skull hadn’t noticed them yet.

  Dom shot Jenna a hand signal. She nodded and stalked forward. She knelt, shouldered her rifle, and sighted the creature. A single suppressed shot flew from her rifle. Flecks of blood sprayed from the exit wound in the creature’s head, its limbs went slack, and its body crumpled. It fell sideways, and its bony body fell against the bioreactor. The impact let out a hollow, echoing thud.

  Clanging footsteps sounded overhead. Dom and the Hunters played their rifles across the wiry catwalks suspended from the ceiling. A Skull charged down one of the catwalks and leapt over the rail. Its arms wheeled. Miguel jumped to avoid the c
reature as it crashed into the floor. The other Hunters fired. The Skull tried to stand, but its limbs trembled as bullets knocked it back.

  More Skulls tumbled from the catwalk. Claws flashed against steel as the Hunters parried blows. The Hunters yelled out, angry and desperate, amid the malicious growls of the unrelenting Skulls. A thin Skull leapt at Dom. Its neck was bent at a crooked angle, yet its teeth gnashed furiously. Dom fired at it. Bullets smashed into its armor. Some pierced it. Others merely pinged against the spikes tracing the edges of its plates. With scarlet rivulets running from its wounds and the corners of its mouth, it continued its attack.

  Limbs flailed, teeth snapped. Dom struggled to throw the creature off balance. The monster deftly avoided most of his blows. It lunged in for a bite, and Dom twisted enough for the creature to get a mouthful of his tac vest instead. The moment the creature bit into the fabric, Dom brought the stock of his rifle down. The Skull let go and drew back. Its serrated teeth had torn through the pockets of the vest, spilling a few magazines. They clinked on the floor, but Dom ignored the ammo. He managed a kick that knocked out one of the Skull’s legs. When the monster fell, Dom brought his rifle up and fired straight into its face. A small geyser of gore burst from the Skull, and its limbs went still.

  All around, the Hunters and the Skulls found themselves in hand-to-claw combat. Knives and guns lashed out against talons, teeth, and spikes. It seemed as though the world around Dom had turned red with blood. His pulse thumped in his ears, and he gasped for breath, trying to maintain his wits as he faced off against Skull after Skull. More pounced from the catwalks. Some wore yellow helmets with horns growing through the plastic. Once maintenance workers in the facility, they now focused purely on the destruction of the Hunters.

  A monster ran at Dom with its head lowered to ram him. He fired, but the shots glanced off the horns and shoulder blades. As it approached, he sidestepped and grabbed one of the blades. He used the Skull’s momentum to swing it into one of the bioreactors. It struggled to its feet, dazed by the impact.

  Before Dom could aim his rifle at the beast, Miguel plowed into it. “I got this one, Chief!” His knee smashed into the Skull’s chest. The concealed blade shot out of his prosthetic and crunched through the soft tissue beneath the thing’s chin. The creature slumped, its body leaning against the bioreactor.

  In another corner, Glenn and Renee grabbed a pair of Skulls and smashed the two beasts together. Horns and spikes cut into each other’s armor, and fragments of bone flew off from the impact. Jenna dispatched another Skull with her sidearm. Its claws splayed in one final attempt to bring its prey down. Spencer butted another monster with the stock of his rifle. The Skull slammed into a wall. Spencer bashed it again and again until its yellow helmet cracked, followed shortly thereafter by the sickening cracking sound of its head splitting open.

  They continued the fight until the last Skull fell into a puddle of its own blood. Its mouth opened and closed. Red bubbles popped between its jagged teeth. Its eyelids fluttered, and a low growl was uttered from between its gray lips. Dom leveled his rifle, squeezed the trigger, and ceased the creature’s desperate grip on its fading life.

  With no more Skulls to fight, the Hunters circled up. They stood almost shoulder to shoulder as their eyes and rifles played across the catwalks and the silver bioreactor. The white walls were splashed with crimson, and the windows were cracked from the occasional bullet hole or head smashed against them.

  “How are the bioreactors?” Dom asked.

  “Don’t see any obvious damage to ‘em,” Jenna said then nodded her head to indicate one. “Besides that dent from when you threw the Skull against it.”

  “Good,” Dom said. “Probably should’ve said this before, but we need these things intact. This is our ticket to mass-producing a vaccine.”

  “Don’t we need a vaccine to produce first?” Spencer asked.

  A grin edged across Miguel’s face. “Got all the vaccines I need right in this motherfucking magazine.” He tapped his rifle.

  “Enough, Hunters,” Dom said. “Renee, Spencer, Glenn, take the south end. Miguel, Jenna, on me. Make sure there aren’t any more of these bastards lingering around, and secure any and all entrances.”

  The Hunters worked quickly to lock the doors along the ground floor and those leading from the upper catwalks. It took less than ten minutes to clear the immense room.

  “All clear, Captain,” Renee said, meeting Dom’s group back in the center of the facility.

  “Good. I’m going to tell command we’ve secured the bioreactors.” Dom switched channels on his comm link to Operation Salvage’s Command HQ. “Command, Hunters One. We’ve secured the bioreactors in the VPPL. Do you copy?”

  A beat of silence.

  “Command, Hunters—”

  “Command here. We copy, Hunters One. Your orders are to remain within the facility until further notice.”

  “Understood.” Dom clicked the comm link channel over again. “Meredith, Andris, this is Dom. How are things on your end?”

  Nothing.

  “Meredith, Andris, do you read?”

  Again, nothing. The Hunters looked around at each other. They shared worried expressions.

  “Probably maintaining radio silence on their end,” Renee offered. But he could tell she wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her own claim.

  Dom clicked on his smartwatch. “According to Kinsey’s timetable, they should’ve secured the NINDS by now. It’s a relatively small building.”

  Unless they’d run into much stronger resistance than expected, he thought.

  Again, he clicked on the channel for Command. “Command, Hunters One. What’s the status of Foxtrot One?”

  “Hunters One, you are asked to stay put and await further orders.”

  “I got that, Command. But two of my own are with Foxtrot. What’s going on?”

  “Hunters One, Foxtrot One is still on mission.”

  Dom clicked off the channel, cursing. “Bureaucratic bastards. Huntress, this is Dom. Have you heard from Meredith or Andris?”

  “Negative,” Chao’s voice responded at once. “We lost comms with them a few minutes ago. Our attempts to hail them have gone unanswered.”

  “Damn it! We’re not going to wait if they’re getting their asses kicked out there! Frank, you got eyes on Foxtrot?”

  “Negative, Captain,” Frank replied. “Kinsey’s men ordered me out of their airspace when they sent in reinforcements. Lost track of Meredith and Andris when they entered the NINDS.”

  Dom cursed again. What the fuck was going on?

  “Uh, Captain.” Chao’s voice. “We’ve got unidentified contacts headed toward the Huntress. About fifteen klicks away and coming in fast.”

  ***

  Lauren pulled her hands through her hair. “What the hell is going on now?”

  Thomas leaned in and squinted at Chao’s monitor. The radar showed a flurry of blips headed straight at them.

  “Every time I want to get a little science done, shit hits the fan,” Lauren said.

  “Sorry, Doc,” Chao said. “Hold on to your beakers.” He adjusted the mic on his headset and spoke into it. “Unidentified aircraft, this is the Huntress. Please identify yourselves.”

  Chao waited in silence for a reply. The comm specialist repeated the request, and again there was no answer.

  Adam stood from behind his desk. “Still can’t reach Meredith or Andris. The line’s still open, but they aren’t responding.”

  “Weird,” Samantha said. “They didn’t say anything about radio silence. I wonder if there’s a glitch or something.”

  Thomas rolled an unlit cigar between his fingers. “I doubt it, Samantha. You three aren’t the type to make mistakes.”

  “I know, I know,” Samantha said, frustration filling her voice. “I’m working on it.”

  Adding to the turmoil, Chao sent another request to the unidentified aircraft headed their way. Again, no response. Then he pointed to his
monitor. “Bogeys in range of our outboards cams.” The screen displayed flashes of silver over the horizon. “Looks like helicopters and a couple of Coast Guard cutters. They’re all US designation.”

  “Kinsey didn’t say anything about sending someone to intercept us,” Thomas said. “Chao?”

  “On it.” Chao’s fingers flew over his keyboard. “Operation Salvage Command, this is the Huntress. We’ve got unidentified aircraft and seacraft. Appear to belong to the US. Can you confirm?”

  Silence.

  Chao sighed in exasperation and repeated the request.

  Lauren’s pulse quickened when the request went unanswered. She shared a worried expression with Thomas. He shook his head back and forth slowly and started to chew on his cigar.

  “What the fuck is going on, Huntress?” Dom’s voice cut over the comm links, echoing in the electronics workshop.

  “We don’t know,” Chao said. “We’re trying to—”

  “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Samantha slammed her fist on her desk. A full can of energy drink fell over and spilled onto the deck. She ignored it. “Goddammit! We’ve got a Trojan horse virus. It just sapped all onboard comm equipment.”

  Thomas’s face flushed in anger. “How the hell did that happen?”

  “Kinsey’s goddamned data package,” Samantha said, practically spitting. “His team must’ve slid it in there when we opened the data link with them.”

  Chao’s fingers tapped frantically across the keyboard. He spoke into the comm link again. “Dom, Huntress. Do you read?”

  “You’re not going to reach them,” Samantha said. “They’re blocking all signals. We’ve got jamming on all frequencies coming from our own damn equipment.”

  Chao leaned back in his chair, his eyes wide and dazed. “No, this can’t be happening.”