by Nick Thacker
Without hesitation, the man reached out and grabbed Reese with an outstretched arm, causing Mark’s son to gasp in surprise. Reese wriggled around to get free, but he was locked in a vice grip from the man’s dark, muscular arm.
Mark backpedaled, now on his feet, and stood fully upright. He wasn’t as tall as the man, nor was he as large, but he wasn’t going to stand still and let his son get taken again.
He took in his opponent, for the first time truly looking at him.
When he saw who it was, his jaw dropped.
“Carter? Carter, is that you?”
The man’s face was similar to Daniel Carter’s, but lacked… something. His eyes were hollow, dark, and empty, and his expression was of sheer nonchalance, as if Reese was simply a bag of groceries to be carried inside.
“Carter, can you let my son go?” Mark asked, his voice soft and delicate. He had no idea what was going on, but he wasn’t about to take any chances.
Carter just looked at Mark, staring through him. His head cocked slightly to the side, Carter seemed completely unaware of what was going on.
“Dad? What’s—”
Carter ripped his arm sideways, swinging Reese completely around his body and causing the boy to let out a painful yelp. “No,” Carter said. His voice was scratchy, dry, and stressed. He had moved Reese to the opposite side of his large body, away from Mark.
Mark’s eyes narrowed as his emotions took over. He didn’t care about his goal; his calculated logic.
He didn’t care if he killed the man.
Mark lunged, moving fast and ducking low. Reese’s eyes widened as he braced for the impact, but Mark dove to the side at the last minute. He slammed his left hand out, striking upward with a flattened and steady open palm.
The blow took Reese and Carter by surprise. Carter stumbled backward and wrapped both hands around his bruised neck, letting Reese go. Catching his breath, he looked at Mark, startled.
Mark was already bearing down for his next attack. He stretched his other hand out, enticing Carter to reach for it.
Carter took the bait, grabbing for Mark’s wrist. Mark used the hold as leverage, flipping himself up and around the big man’s back, then slashed down with his elbow onto the center of his spine just below his neck.
Carter howled in rage, falling to his knees. Mark continued his barrage, using his right hand to bend Carter’s left arm around him, feeling for pressure. Finally, he held Carter’s shoulder as he pulled upward on the arm, abruptly and forcefully, and he heard an immediate snap.
The soldier blinked back tears as his body screamed in agony. He dropped to the ground, going limp, as he passed out.
Reese watched the entire incident—no longer than five seconds—play out as his father incapacitated the larger man. He started to respond, but was silenced by Mark first.
“Go.”
Reese didn’t argue. He turned and ran toward the elevator, followed closely by Mark.
Entering, Mark wondered if the tired elevator would even work, but he was surprised to see lights dotting the interior. It was a true maintenance elevator, made of sheet metal and large enough to hold a crew of twenty men.
He pressed “4” on the panel and the elevator immediately lurched upward.
“Dad?” Reese asked. The boy was visibly shaking.
Mark didn’t respond. He continued looking forward as the elevator continued its climb.
“Dad? What—”
“Enough.” Mark’s voice was low, but direct. “Not now, I mean. There’s not enough time.”
He gritted his teeth, but Reese didn’t ask about it again.
The elevator’s panel lit up as it passed the individual floor numbers.
9.
8.
7.
The elevator was slow; Mark didn’t like that. It was all happening too fast, and this elevator wasn’t going fast enough.
6.
The elevator stopped.
Mark pushed the “4” button again; again. It didn’t move. They were stuck, between level six and level five.
He punched a fist onto the panel, denting the thin metal control unit.
Slowly, the elevator began to rise.
The light for 5 blinked once, then stayed lit. The elevator had stopped, but this time the doors slid open.
Mark stepped in front of Reese as the doors revealed the man standing outside the elevator.
Jeremiah Austin.
“Mr. Adams,” he said. “Good to see you again. I thought I’d lost you down there.” Austin’s ear was bandaged and he had a strip of gauze wrapping around his head.
Mark felt his knees involuntarily bend. His senses instinctively heightened. He began to slow his breathing, crouching ever so slightly as he prepared to dart out of the elevator and into Austin’s chest.
“I wouldn’t do anything rash, Mr. Adams,” Austin said. He nodded once, and was immediately joined by six black-clad Russian soldiers, appearing from each side of the level outside the elevator. They each carried an assault rifle, and each was pointed directly at Mark’s chest.
Except for one.
One of the soldiers—an impossibly-thick, cruel-looking Slavic woman—was pointing her rifle at Reese.
Finally, a blond woman stepped out from the right side of the elevator, smiling at Mark.
Sylvia.
CHAPTER 42
THE TUNNEL SYSTEM SEEMED DARKER now, and even more constricting. The horrors they had all experienced here were not lost on Jen and the others. Saunders ran in front, taking the lead since Carter had disappeared, and Erik followed closely behind. Jen and Nelson kept pace as they ascended through the tunnel to the main level, Level Four.
The tunnels were a circuitous route, to be sure, but they all felt safer there having now explored the complete distance between the Level Four and Level Nine entrances. They so far hadn’t intercepted any of the scientists, nor had they experienced any major setbacks.
All was well, and that was what worried Jen.
Where is everyone?
Mark and Carter were now missing, and she had no leads as to what the giant drill at the center of the lower levels was intended to be used for. The Russian soldiers had killed one of their team members, and two had been murdered by the other hostile force lurking around the station.
Nothing made sense, but Jen pressed on.
Fueled by her fear, adrenaline, and rage toward whoever was behind all of this, she committed to finding the answer they were looking for, at any cost. She had to get Reese, and if it took helping the enemy, she’d comply.
They found the large, foul-smelling chamber and ran through, without so much as slowing down. Jen’s feet fell in a rhythmic, steady pace, and she found her mind syncing with the collective music of their shoes on the rocky earth.
“We’re getting to the main level,” Saunders said from up ahead. “Let’s slow down and make sure we’re not walking into a trap.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Nelson said.
Saunders paused at the door, then walked into the clearing between the cave opening and the houses lining the street. Nelson peered around the scope of his rifle, providing cover.
She waved them forward, and Jen and Erik stepped out onto the street. Nelson followed, and they met again at the first house and continued through, weaving between empty, abandoned houses and utility sheds.
Suddenly Saunders stopped. She squinted, then brought her rifle up. Looking through it, she whispered under her breath. “Bollocks. What in the—Nelson, give me a hand!”
She took off at a sprint, clearing the distance to the next house in an impressive three strides. Jen watched as she ran farther away from them. Nelson sprang into action as well, leaving Erik and her to wonder aloud what she’d seen.
As they struggled to catch up, Jen watched as Saunders’ body disappeared behind one of the houses. She stepped to the side, aligning her vision with the new angle. Saunders reappeared at the back of the house, and Jen gasped when
she saw the soldier stop next to Carter. She sped up, catching them in another ten seconds.
“Carter?” Rachel asked. “What’s wrong?”
Carter was looking off into the distance, toward the great lighting fixture on the ceiling of the dome above their heads. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and Nelson and Saunders appeared as confounded with their leader as Jen and Erik were.
“Carter? What’s up?”
Carter’s head swiveled around, and as his upper body rotated they could see that his right arm was bent and pulled out of its socket. He struggled to remain standing, then toppled forward. Nelson reacted, reaching his arms out to slow the man’s fall. He fell directly onto Nelson, who stumbled but finally caught his balance and held Carter.
“Come on, boss, let’s get you somewhere you can lie down,” he said.
Saunders reached for his other side, and together the three began walking slowly back to one of the houses.
“There is a medical facility down on one of the levels below us,” Erik said.
“We can’t risk moving him that much,” Saunders said. “I need to see if anything’s broken and set his shoulder.
They reached the small porch on the back of the house and set Carter against the rail, leaning his bulk onto it. Saunders began examining him as Nelson started in with more questions.
“Who did this, boss? Carter?”
Carter mumbled something under his breath.
“Say that again, boss. Who did this to you?”
More incoherent ramblings.
Nelson looked at Jen and shook his head. “What do you think?”
Jen was as shocked as they were. “He must not have gone down without a fight, right?”
“And he’s still walking—or standing—around, so he must have done some serious damage to them first,” Nelson said.
“Lev…” Carter whispered. “Level…” his eyes rolled slightly, and his mouth drooped open.
“Level what? Which level, Carter?” Saunders asked. “Damn it!” her voice cracked, and Jen looked up at her. Saunders’ nostrils flared, angry at herself for showing that emotion, then immediately her expression changed back to a firm gaze.
Jen watched the transformation take place in less than a second, but didn’t ask questions.
“Saunders, we need to get him down to the infirmary,” Nelson said. “There’s not enough we can do for him up here. And plus, we’re sitting ducks while he’s with us out here.”
She sighed. “We can’t afford to move him, though. The tunnels and the stairs are bad ideas.”
“You know we need to. Let’s go slow; see if we can’t carry him most of the way.”
She paused, then nodded. “Okay, fine. Stairs though. We need the light.”
They lifted Carter off the railing and spread his weight between them, careful to hold his right side without pressing against his arm.
They walked a few steps, and Jen could see they would struggle the entire way. He was too large a man to be carried.
Apparently, Carter agreed. He pushed Nelson off his left side, and Saunders let go. He stumbled forward a few steps, shakily but straight. Another few steps, and Jen understood.
“There’s something wrong with him, guys. He’s able to walk, but this is the best we’re going to get. We have to get him downstairs, and then somewhere he can be checked out.
“Look at his eyes,” she continued. “There’s something… something different about them. He’s not all there.” His eyes were empty, but somehow still indicative of something deeper.
Fear? Or was it something else?
Carter was still walking, though, so they caught up and stood to either side of him, placing their hands out for support.
Then Carter snapped. He whipped his head around, narrowly missing Saunders’ own. He thrashed, clipping her face with his hand and sending her falling backwards.
“Hey! What the bloody hell—” Nelson’s voice was cut off by Carter’s fist. The punch landed squarely on the man’s jaw, and Nelson reacted without hesitation. He punched back at Carter, who did nothing to duck or dodge the blow.
Nelson hit him twice in the stomach, but Carter seemed unfazed. Carter lunged toward Nelson, throwing his weight onto him and toppling both over onto the ground. He swung open-palmed hands at Nelson, scratching his face and neck.
Nelson howled in agony, then rolled Carter off of him. He kicked sideways while on the ground, landing his foot in Carter’s groin, then again behind his knee.
Carter fell, but still it seemed as though the soldier could feel no pain. He stood, crookedly bent to the side, over Nelson, and fell directly on Nelson’s head.
Jen winced as she saw Carter’s elbow catch Nelson’s chin, directly where he’d been hit earlier. She ran to help, but Erik held her back.
“He’s rabid, Jen. There is nothing you will be able to do. If Nelson cannot fight him off, you will not either.”
Jen knew he was right, but still she hated just watching. “Maybe we can all attack him together?”
Nelson groaned, his face covered by most of Carter’s body, and he shifted quickly, spinning himself around and then up onto his knees. Blood dripped from his nose, and a large welt was already forming above his left eye.
“All right, you bastard. You want to fight?” Nelson stood up and waited for Carter to attack again.
This time, he was prepared. As Carter stumbled forward, Nelson caught him with a massive uppercut to the soft fleshy skin just below his jaw, and Carter’s body literally lifted off the ground from the hit. He somehow landed on his feet, and again stumbled toward Nelson.
Nelson leaned back for a kick, but Carter moved swiftly to the side. Using Nelson’s wasted leverage, he slashed out with his open hands at Nelson’s face again, this time tearing his shirt down the sleeve. He scratched again, ripping the shirt more and drawing blood.
Finally, he jumped on Nelson from behind, his weight pushing Nelson to the ground.
Saunders came to six feet away, and she sat up to recover.
Carter’s frame was too much for Nelson, and he was now sitting on his chest, pinning both of Nelson’s arms to the ground with his knees. Carter was looking straight ahead, not even seeming to notice that he’d pinned one of his own team members. He brought his hands down at full force, scratching Nelson’s face and neck each time.
A gunshot sounded, and Carter’s body went rigid. He rolled off Nelson’s chest, and Nelson opened his eyes. He looked up to see who had saved him and found Saunders staring down at him.
She offered him a hand, but he shook his head. “I think I’ll lie here for a snap, if you don’t mind,” he said.
Saunders shrugged, sighed, and turned to Jen and Erik. “Get ready. We’re going after these people, and I need you in the fight. No more hiding around or running away. Got it?”
Her voice was steady, but Jen heard the steely truth behind it. She just killed her friend because of them.
Jen didn’t need any encouragement, and she certainly didn’t have it in her to be timid. She grabbed Carter’s rifle and sidearm and threw the smaller gun to Erik. She checked it, just like the man had shown her, and then waited for Nelson to recover. He stood, silent, and started walking.
Jen looked toward Saunders. Their eyes met, and she thought she saw the slightest glint of moisture in the soldier’s eye. She was about to say something, but Nelson grabbed her arm.
“Wait,” he said. “Let her be. She’ll come around.” Jen, Erik, and Nelson started walking toward the stairs at the edge of the level as Saunders held back.
Jen looked at him. “What happened? I mean, before—”
“You mean, were they in love?” Nelson asked. “No. But he was once. Had a wife and a kid, too. Served on a private security detail for a company that got into some shady business, and it all blew up.”
“He was injured?”
“No, and as he would say, unfortunately not. His wife and child were murdered, and the government wouldn’t do anythi
ng to help.”
“So why did he join the Royal Marines?” she asked.
“He wanted to fix it, I guess, in his own way. He had a mentor—the same man who trained Saunders. That’s how they met.”
Jen waited for more, but Nelson was done.
Nelson reached the edge of the level first, but before he mounted the stairs a man appeared on the landing, pointing an assault rifle. Behind him, three Russian soldiers fanned out and pointed guns in their direction.
CHAPTER 43
“PLEASE LOWER YOUR RIFLE, SOLDIER. You’re outnumbered and severely outgunned.”
Jen saw Nelson’s shoulders rise as he realized they’d been ambushed. He turned around to face the voice. Jen, Erik, and Saunders did as well.
The man stood about fifty feet behind them, having walked over from behind the house adjacent to the one they’d found Carter standing behind. This man was unarmed, but he, too, was accompanied by a small group of black-clad military men and women. They all stood near the center of the great level’s expansive space, in the fields. Jen could see both the cave system opening and the housing district on one side, as well as the large propane tank in the distance that she’d noticed earlier.
“Not bad, actually, for a haphazard group of scientists and Brits,” the man said. He walked toward them, and as he did the group from the stairs came to them and removed their weapons and effects. “It seems like only yesterday that you had, what, twice the members in your little group? Right—it was only yesterday.”
Jen’s face flushed, and she couldn’t hide her emotions any longer.
“What do you want?” she screamed, her words carrying the weight of grief and anger. “Why did you bring us here?”
“I brought you here?” the man asked, mockingly. He was wearing black slacks and red buttoned shirt, tucked in. His shoes had been recently polished and shined, and his hair was slicked back to a small ducktail. “I did no such thing. I may have enticed, but I certainly did not send any invitations.”
