Garrett had had enough. “I think we’ve come to the conclusion that you’re not Sergeant Wilson, and your furry little friend there isn’t just a rat. So—”
“—so, the question is, just what the hell am I, correct? You’re right . . . I’m not quite Sergeant Wilson anymore. So much for my little acting job, huh?”
“I’m not going to—”
“—stand there and play twenty questions with some sort of thing? Isn’t that what you were going to say, Garrett? I’ll answer your question. I’m a living, breathing, thinking being that has stepped one rung further up the evolutionary ladder . . . at least I think so. I haven’t figured it out entirely yet, but I think it’s safe to say that I’m part of a new master race. You like that term, don’t you, Garrett?”
“Carolyn, we need to kill this thing right now. Any studies we need to do, we can do on its dead body.”
“I can’t die, Garrett. You can’t kill me. Now, my little furry friend here, he’s a little different. Not normal, but darn close. He’s here for one purpose now. It was very thoughtful of you to leave him in here with me.”
“I can kill you just fine, you son of a bitch. A bullet through your head should shut your goddamned mouth.”
“Are you sure? Do you really think a little bullet would be enough? No. I don’t think so. And do you know what else? All of those like me, the ones that have been romping around your country on a glorious feeding frenzy—you can’t kill them, either.” The being smiled. “You really should’ve let me out of this little box when I asked you the first time.”
Suddenly, there was a change.
Carolyn gasped when she saw its eyes.
The thing’s eyes had changed!
Silver.
Like mirrors.
Two metallic-looking orbs, each with a small black circle at the center, fixed their gaze on her.
They were shining from within, almost luminescent.
And then it smiled as the rat timidly crept closer.
The being knelt down and gently picked up the rodent, stroking its soaked fur, almost as if it were a pet.
Slowly, it walked to the Plexiglas wall and placed one palm against its surface. It slowly ran its hand across the smooth surface and smiled again. It looked at each of the people on the other side of the wall.
The eyes.
Shining.
Carolyn heard it speak.
Yooouuu . . . Caaarrrooolllyyynnn . . .
What? The mouth hadn’t moved!
For a second, Carolyn was confused. Had she really heard something?
Riiidddeeennnooouuurrrr . . .
It turned its glance to the general.
Raaammmmmeessss . . .
To Garrett.
Hooofffmmmaaannn . . .
Not once did the mouth move.
She was hearing it speak . . . in her head!
She tried to turn to look at Garrett and the general, to see if they were hearing it as well, but her head was frozen in place.
She wanted to back away, but her legs wouldn’t move.
The eyes.
She couldn’t look away.
She couldn’t move!
The being gently placed the rat on its shoulder and opened its mouth.
The rat crawled into the being’s mouth, squirming, legs kicking and clawing as it struggled to get inside.
The being tossed its head back and bit the rat’s body in two, its neck grotesquely bulging as the front portion of the rat’s body slid down its throat.
Carolyn heard its voice in her mind again, as it placed both of its palms against the transparent wall.
Waaannnttt ouuuttt . . .
And then the Plexiglas wall began to crack.
CHAPTER 77
“Ma’am, the secretary of state is on line three.”
Allison quickly answered. “Adam, what do you have?”
“Madame Vice President, the Canadians have closed their border. Their airspace is now off-limits to all US-originating traffic. And there’ve been some skirmishes.”
“Firing?”
“Yes, ma’am. At border stations. Dead on both sides.”
“What are they thinking?” It dawned on her that she was in Canadian airspace.
“The same thing is happening along the Mexican border—all the crossing stations are closed and under armed guard. Their troops are deploying along the entire border. Their airspace is closed, too.”
In the matter of a few short hours following the president’s nuclear strikes against the three infested cities, it seemed as if war had broken out across the globe.
The Israelis—nuked.
Taiwan—obliterated.
South Korea and Japan—choking under spreading clouds of North Korean chemical and biological weapons.
There were no more allies—America had no friends.
Even the British—at times America’s only friend—had killed innocent Americans, blowing airliners out of the sky as they tried to land with empty tanks. Preventing any chance of the mutant horrors across the pond finding their way to England. Saving themselves, out of fear more than anything else.
She’d watched her country torn apart from within, by the horrible creatures. And she knew that if she didn’t act quickly to get control of the situation, her country would be torn apart from without, as well.
CHAPTER 78
As the creature stepped through what used to be a thick Plexiglas containment wall—which it had shattered with a touch of its hands—the guards opened fire with their M-16s.
As the bullets slammed into the creature’s body, its hold on Carolyn, Garrett, and General Rammes was released—they were able to move! All three of them dove for cover, Garrett protectively covering Carolyn’s body with his own.
Through Garrett’s arms, Carolyn watched in disbelief as the creature absorbed the rounds from the M-16s. It was just standing there, taking it! As each shell rocketed through its body and spun crazily into the back wall of the containment room, the wounds were closing! She could see holes opening and closing in its flesh with each impact—but that couldn’t be! No living thing could absorb that kind of punishment and survive!
But right before her eyes, it was happening. The shots were slamming into it as the guards emptied their magazines—and it wasn’t having any effect! The creature just stood there, its body jerking from the incredible amount of kinetic energy pounding into its torso, its arms, legs, neck, and head.
But it wouldn’t die.
The wounds were healing almost instantaneously!
The firing abruptly ceased as the ammunition ran out.
The guards quickly grabbed fresh magazines from their belts and slammed them into—
But it was too late.
The creature raised its arms, and the soldiers suddenly froze in place. Unable to move, just as Carolyn, Garrett, and General Rammes had been.
The creature stepped toward the guards, its eyes shining like molten silver.
Carolyn felt it.
It swept through her thoughts like a burst of static in her brain.
The guards began to grimace, their eyes wide and fearful. Trickles of blood began to flow from their nostrils. Their ears. Their eyes.
She could feel the pressure in the room build, the wave of static increasing in intensity. Somehow, she knew the real force of the static was aimed at the guards—she was experiencing only the outer edges of the creature’s assault. It was like standing ten feet away from a flamethrower and feeling the indirect heat from its blazing stream.
The humanoid beast was killing them. With its mind.
The guards began to scream. Terrible, agonized shrieking.
Carolyn watched as blood poured from the orifices in their heads, spilling into their biosuits. The veins just under their skin b
egan to distend, visibly bulging with each terrified beat of their hearts. Their eyes rolled back into their sockets. One man bit through his tongue.
Through the speakers in her suit, she heard their skulls cracking.
And then, as if their heads could no longer stand the pressure from within, their skulls exploded.
Their bodies dropped to the floor.
The static was gone.
The creature slowly turned toward her.
Caaarrrooolllyyynnn . . .
General Rammes pushed the button.
CHAPTER 79
The call had come in right on schedule.
“President Vladimirov, this is General Thad Metzger.”
“I want to speak to your president.”
“The president is unavailable at the moment, sir. He was slightly injured during an attack on Air Force One and is in the infirmary getting stitches for a wound on his arm.”
About ten feet from where Metzger was standing, Andrew was on the floor of the bunker’s command center, eyes wide open, nobody home. Jessie was next to him, whispering into his ear.
“Who is in control, General? Is it President Smith, or Vice President Perez?”
“There has been no change in this nation’s leadership, Mr. President. Andrew Smith remains the president of the United States. Ms. Perez is the leader of a failed coup attempt and she’ll be—”
“Was the attack on the cities successful, General? Were you able to stop the creatures from spreading?”
“Yes, sir. The creatures in those three cities have been destroyed.”
“And the others? What is the plan for them, General? Are you going to continue to drop nuclear bombs across your country to destroy them as well?”
“If that’s what has to be done to keep the creatures from spreading, then yes. The president hasn’t made that decision yet.”
“I would like to hear it from him, General. I wish to speak to him now.”
Jessie had somehow gotten through to Andrew Smith. He was standing, and she helped him walk to the secure hotline.
“Stand by, President Vladimirov. The president has returned.”
Metzger muted the connection.
“Is he good to go?”
“It’s as far as I can take him. It has to be quick,” Jessie said. “Andrew, you need to speak to the Russian president. You need to tell him his forces’ alert status is risking nuclear war. Do you understand, Andrew?”
“Yes. I understand.”
Metzger handed Andrew the hotline.
“President Vladimirov, this is Andrew Smith. It’s good to hear from you again.”
“Mr. President, this is a very dangerous time we find ourselves in, is it not?”
“Yes, it is, Anatoly. A dangerous time.” He paused, unsure of what he was supposed to say next.
Metzger quickly muted the connection, and fixed his smallish eyes on Jessie.
“Andrew,” Jessie said, “you need to tell him to drop his alert levels or we’ll respond in kind.”
Andrew slowly nodded his understanding, and Jessie motioned at Metzger to restore the audio.
“We know your forces have entered a heightened state of alert, Anatoly. There’s no need for you to—”
“You have dropped nuclear bombs on your own country. Your vice president tried to countermand your orders, did she not? This tells me that the situation in your country is getting out of control.”
“No, it’s not out of control.” He paused again, obviously struggling with his thoughts. Metzger reached for the mute button, but Andrew continued. “She . . . she tried to stop the attack because she didn’t think it was the correct course of action.”
“I have raised our alert levels as a precaution, Mr. President. The use of nuclear weapons is not a situation Russia takes lightly. Especially when a nuclear-armed country like the United States has a crisis of leadership. You must assure us you are in control of your military forces.”
“There is no crisis of leadership, President Vladimirov. I am in charge. The armed forces answer to me.”
“That does not seem to be the case, Mr. President.”
Jessie muted the connection. “Andrew, he’s trying to trick you! Don’t you see! You can’t show any weakness, not now!”
“Jessie . . . I don’t know what to—”
She slapped him. Twice. “Andrew, you will tell President Vladimirov that unless he lowers his alert levels immediately, we’ll be forced to raise ours. Tell him, Andrew. Now.” She unmuted the call. She noticed his eyes were changing . . . the confusion draining away.
“President Vladimirov. I will be forced to raise our alert levels, unless you lower yours. You are taking us to the brink of a conflict neither country can afford.”
“It is not I who is taking us to the brink, Mr. President. You understand that Russia will not allow the creatures in your country to pass beyond your borders.”
“What are you implying?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Mr. President. Good luck to you.”
The connection went dead.
Jessie gently took the receiver from Andrew’s hand. “That was a fine job, Andrew. You did what you had to do.”
Andrew said nothing, his gaze fixed at the phone receiver. Jessie watched a scowl form on his face.
“I’ll send the order,” General Metzger said. “We’ll put our forces at DEFCON 1.”
They were both shocked to hear Andrew Smith’s next words.
“No, General.” He gripped the side of the desk and stood. “You will not.”
Metzger quickly glanced at Jessie. She looked astounded at what she’d heard.
“Andrew, the general must raise our alert level. The Russians are—”
“It’s over, Jessie.” Andrew took a step away from both of them. Though he was unsteady on his feet, his eyes were clear now. Piercing.
She walked toward him. “Andrew, please, you know you want to listen to—”
“Get away from me. Get the fuck away from me. General Metzger, you will get on the horn to the vice president and—”
He swiftly pulled his sidearm. “No, Mr. President. I will not. You’re done giving orders here.”
Jessie knew Andrew Smith had been the strongest man she’d ever encountered. After all she’d done to him, he’d still been able to fight his way back to the surface. For a moment, he’d been himself again.
His last moment.
The report was unnaturally loud in the small, confined space.
General Metzger holstered his sidearm and picked up the direct line to the bunker’s communications center. “This is General Metzger. All forces are to assume DEFCON 1. By order of the president of the United States.”
She was sad, in a way.
But it didn’t matter.
They wouldn’t need him anymore.
Everything was in motion now.
And there was no stopping it.
Alone in a locked command bunker, deep below the fields of Kentucky, Jessie Hruska and Thad Metzger knew their purposes in life had been fulfilled.
After the fires burned out, the dreams of Marx and Lenin could once again be realized.
A utopia on earth.
CHAPTER 80
“Lincoln, this is Grant. I have movement to my front. Over.”
Peering through his powerful night vision scope, the Army sniper could see forms emerging from the ground two hundred meters away.
Before the things had gone to ground the night before, he’d been positioned on a hill above the area, picking them off with his M107 long-range sniper rifle—a .50-caliber monster that could put a round through a truck’s engine block from over a mile away.
It had worked just as well on the creatures, at a much closer range.
“Lincoln copies. All forc
es prepare to engage,” came the reply over the radio net. Through his headphones, he could hear the muffled thunder of jet aircraft flying overhead in the darkening twilight sky, preparing for their attack runs.
They had blasted the area all day with high-explosive bombs, rockets, and artillery, trying to blow as many of the casings apart as they could before sundown.
The things had gone to ground, but they hadn’t gone deep.
Not this time.
They’d killed hundreds of them.
Maybe thousands.
But they were emerging again, and if what the intelligence officer had said was true, there would be two of them for every single casing they’d failed to destroy.
There weren’t going to be as many of them, but there would still be way too many.
Too many to stop.
But they—he—had to try.
His orders this night—as they had been the previous night—were to go after the humanoid creatures, the ones standing on two legs.
It didn’t bother him to think the things had once been people.
He’d killed people before, lined them up in his sights and sent a half-inch shell through their skulls at incredible distances.
No sweat.
It was his job.
He’d never enjoyed it, but it was what he’d been trained to do, and he was good at it.
But these things sure as hell weren’t people anymore, and he did enjoy killing them. One after the other, after the other, after the other. Ten rounds at a time from his semiauto rifle. Blowing their heads apart as rapidly as he could before having to reload and move back as they advanced.
He drew a bead on one of the glowing green forms . . . and hesitated.
Something was different.
The thing was standing, and around its feet scurried smaller creatures. Both types much smaller than he’d witnessed the night before.
It looks like a person, he thought. “Lincoln, this is Grant. Confirm I have no friendlies to my front. Over?”
“Stand by, Grant.”
That’s it? Just stand by? Come on, guys . . .
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