CRISIS (Descendants Saga (Crisis Sequence) Book 2)

by James Somers

  Day of Reckoning

  “Oh, that can’t be good,” Garth says.

  Holly raises her head from his shoulder, taking notice of the situation. The zombies have finished off Nesky and are turning in their direction. Garth can see in the dark what is now hidden from Holly, since the headlamps of the SUV were smashed out.

  “What’s happening?” she whispers, trying to see what he does.

  “They’ve definitely caught wind or sight or something of us,” Garth says, taking her hand.

  Without another word, Garth pulls Holly away, dashing down Gloucester Road toward the flying saucer-shaped building looming ahead of them. From behind, they hear the growls and hissing of zombies venting their anger over fleeing prey. They have already taken up pursuit, running with fresh blood upon their faces and hands.

  Despite his katana and his considerable abilities, Garth knows there are simply too many zombies in this mob to fight. Nesky brought most of them with him from Gloucestershire, following his vehicle like entranced rats to some bizarre Pied Piper. If the Russian had meant to bring them—and the blaring car horn could not be mistaken for anything else—then it was the worst plan Garth has ever heard of. Certainly, it is the last mistake Nesky will ever make.

  Now, his foolishness threatens Garth and Holly as well. They run for the perimeter fence and the guard post directly ahead. Lights shining out onto the road soon reveal them to the soldiers who take up their positions on the perimeter. No doubt, snipers are already taking aim at them from some nest situated on the perimeter.

  Taking no chances, Garth begins to wave his hands above his head as they continue sprinting toward the fence. He hopes that whoever is now looking at them through gun sights will realize they are not zombies at all, but people in need of help. He screams toward the fence and the soldiers, crying out for help.

  Commands are called. No one has shot at them, yet. Responses are given, and soldiers move into action, coming to the main gate. Garth believes they mean to open to them. He glances behind him to find that the perimeter lights have already revealed the presence of the zombie horde approaching the GCHQ.

  Rifles fire shots, but not at Garth or Holly. Their targets are coming behind. Quickly a multitude of soldiers are lined up at the perimeter fence, shooting into the mass of zombies following them down the road. Another two soldiers climb to mounted machine gun posts and take up weapons, blazing into the infected mercilessly. The sounds of it all quickly becomes deafening.

  Garth and Holly reach the first layer of fencing where a soldier is holding open the gate. He closes and locks this gate as soon as they are inside. However, he does not allow them any further.

  “Have you been wounded?” he shouts over the din. “Were you bitten?”

  Garth and Holly shake their heads vigorously, even though they both know that Garth was bitten earlier. Still, nothing has come of it. The wound healed much like Jonathan’s bite had healed. Garth remains whole and sane. They believe he must be immune as Jonathan appears to be. No use spooking the soldiers with unnecessary information—especially not when a zombie horde is coming down upon them.

  The soldier, apparently seeing no obvious cause why they should not be admitted, motions them to the second gate. This gate is not like the chain link fencing comprising the first layer. This fencing is made of steel bars set into interconnected panels. Garth and Holly eagerly follow the soldier through and wait as he locks it back into place.

  Meanwhile, a total assault upon the zombies is in progress. Garth and Holly pay little attention to what the soldier says next to them. He’s apparently motioning them back toward the building. They don’t need any more incentive than that to run to the GCHQ building where Cassie and Jonathan are reportedly being held as prisoners.

  It’s much too loud to discuss a plan at this point, but they both know what must be done. Then everything begins to come undone at the perimeter behind them. Soldiers cry out as a flood of zombies reaches the first layer of fencing. They weren’t supposed to get so far, but there are simply too many to stop with mere bullets.

  The infected pay no mind to the razor wire. They are cut open repeatedly, trying to press against it and tear it out of their way. Fingers and hands are reduced to tatters of ragged flesh. Yet, the zombies still do not seem to care. They remain oblivious to the pain, only concerned for the insatiable hunger that drives them on to reach the soldiers and spread their disease or take their fill of living flesh.

  Already, there are thousands of infected persons revealed by the perimeter lights. They crawl over the mounting bodies of fallen zombies, caring nothing at all for the dead of their kind. Reaching the fence, their bodies press upon the perimeter, forcing the chain link to collapse.

  The first fence hits the second and stops. However, the solid state of the second fence only acts to support the first, creating a makeshift ramp that the zombies begin to climb. In moments, most of the razor wire is so entangled with flailing bodies that it no longer does any good. Those persons approaching from behind simply crawl over the entire mess and come on unperturbed. Garth and Cassie make it inside with several soldiers.

  “Drop the shutters!” a soldier—apparently someone in charge—demands.

  They watch from inside a circular vestibular area containing all manner of equipment: weapons, medical supplies, and computer terminals. Steel shutters descend before the bulletproof glass façade, shutting out the soldiers that are now becoming overrun outside. Some of these, noticing what is happening behind them, make a desperate attempt to get inside before the shutters close completely. None of them are successful.

  Beyond, the walls, the soldiers fight on desperately. Many are just outside, hammering the shutters with their fists, begging to be admitted. The man, who ordered the shutters closed, shuts his eyes against their pleas. A decision had to be made in order to save those who are inside the building from the thousands of zombies now inside the perimeter. He made the tough choice, but it doesn’t mean he is happy about it.

  Holly whispers to Garth. “We must blend in here,” she says. “Uniforms or badges; anything that will make us look like we belong here. Then we can search for Jonathan and Cassie.”

  Garth responds with an abbreviated nod.

  Holly glances over his shoulder. “Your sword is very conspicuous, by the way.”

  Garth grins at her. “What sword?”

  She glances back to find the sword has disappeared. “How?”

  “It can become invisible, if I desire it to,” he explains. “Something I learned after a year of training with it.”

  She nods. “We should probably split up,” Holly suggests. “I’ll go east and you go west. We’ll meet in the middle and share information.”

  Garth nods, hurriedly giving her a peck on the cheek before walking away, as though she might deny him if he asked. Holly smiles, touching the cheek. She surveys the room and finds what she is looking for. A lab coat with a badge attached hangs over a chair where someone was eating his dinner from a paper plate. She passes by the chair, finding it forgotten for the moment by its owner during all of the confusion. Holly scoops it up, as though it has always belonged to her, pulls the ID badge free and stuffs it into the pocket. Putting on the lab coat, she heads through the crowd of soldiers and civilian personnel. In a moment, she has become indistinguishable from anyone else working at GCHQ.

  A Warrior in the Night

  The Watcher follows the pulsing of a blood bond in his search for those of his own kind—those of his own blood. Despite being separated by three generations, he can still feel them. They belong to him and he belongs to them. Only, they don’t know it yet.

  Traveling the paths only those of his race may walk, he makes his way from London northwest to Gloucestershire. Here the pull toward his kin is strongest, urging him onward like a fish drawn in on a fisherman’s line. The time has come to finally reveal himself to his family.

  A terrible danger is rising from the ashes of this plague. For a whil
e, he supposed that it was only a virus. Now he realizes this disease to be so much more. This menace is not some pestilence that destroys and is done with its victims. No, this virus carries the means to tear down and remake those who become infected by it. Only those who are already made after a similar kind would be immune to these qualities. They cannot become what they—at least in a sense—already are.

  Not for the first time, or even the hundredth, the Watcher considers the wicked days in which this has happened. He wonders if this could be the time foretold—the beginning of the end when terrible judgments—fire and brimstone, disease and death—will be unleashed from on high. Still, he has no way to be sure. It is not given to him to know.

  What he is quite certain about is the need to reach his kin and do all that is within his power that he might save them from what is coming. After facing the creatures in the train station, and particularly the one that followed him through his portal envelope to the MI6 headquarters, he understands that infection is now the least worry.

  These predators only mean to kill. They have a ferocity even the Breed never possessed, yet like the Breed they can make use of the trace elements of portals. They can follow his kind through and emerge in the same place. And, while the process of transformation takes victims of the virus through stages that seem to destroy the human, it eventually restores unto them the cunning of a wolf.

  He only hopes he is not too late in acting. For so long, he felt that he should watch but not interfere. He can no longer resign himself to the role of watcher. He must become a warrior instead.

  Passing the city of Gloucester, he finds that in some places the electric power is still operating. However, most of the city lies in darkness. His eyes find a great number of infected persons on the move. They are running in a mob toward his destination: a great oblong structure. It is possibly one of the strangest architectural designs he has seen since coming to this time period.

  A peregrine falcon beats its wings furiously, building speed and then hurtling in a two hundred mile per hour dive toward the upheaval taking place in the paved courtyard. Fences have been erected and now overthrown by the infected. Thousands of them have swarmed to this place for some unknown reason.

  Everywhere there is chaos and death. Military men are dying at the hands of these creatures, despite their technological weapons and fast repeating firearms. Sheer numbers are winning the day. There is no saving these men now. However, his kin are inside.

  Just before the falcon smashes into the ground, it pulls up and transforms, taking the Watcher’s human form again. His mercurial blade appears in his hand as he touches down upon the ground in a bare patch of pavement. The zombies immediately assail him. They are relentless. He brandishes his blade, which blazes with light and power. The Watcher becomes the Warrior.

  Hu Takashi wakes from his sleep. It is a sudden event. When his eyes closed, he was dumb and mute—unable to discern anything but his fatigue and desire to sleep. His body had betrayed him. He had been ravenous in what seemed a distant memory, then he became sluggish. Now, he is something new.

  He possesses a keen intelligence. Hu knows who he is again. Only, the former things and his former life seem so repulsive now. This new body with all of its strength and prowess are beautiful to him.

  He stands, stretching his muscles. His dark skinned body is so powerful. Hu feels like he might jump to the moon. Others wake around him. They look like him. There is no male and female now. Only their collective is important.

  He understands how he came to be this way. It is glorious. Those who are now young and brutal and dumb in their machinations will soon become the dull and slow creatures he recently was. Then they will sleep, as he has slept.

  The world will be taken for him and his kind. No one can oppose them. No one can stand in their way. When all of them have slept in this way, all will be changed. They will be born again and he will lead them.