The Death: Extinction

by John W. Vance

  Devin got behind the rifle and peered through the scope. Suddenly everything in the distance was up close, crisp and in full detail.

  “Check out the bridge,” Poppy ordered.

  “Are you going to be hovering over me the whole time?” Devin asked.

  “Yes, I’m your spotter. Now fucking do it.”

  Devin pivoted the rifle at the bridge.

  The leaves above him began to rustle and a warm wind swirled around.

  “Smell that?” Poppy asked.

  “Rain?”

  “Yep.”

  “I see three men on the bridge; wait a second, it’s two men and a boy.”

  “This is Poppy. We have three targets on the bridge; pick a target. Sound off,” Poppy said into his handheld radio.

  “This is sniper three. I’ll take the man, far right.”

  “This is sniper two. I have the fat man in the center directly in my sights.”

  “We have the third target, then. I need the two other snipers to look past the bridge for other targets. Keep your eyes glued for heavy weapons.”

  The radio came to life with all teams acknowledging Poppy’s command.

  “Okay, your test is about to begin; you got the boy. Line him up, and when I tell you, squeeze the shot.”

  This was exactly what Devin didn’t want. He had found himself justifying shooting the men, but the boy was too much. “It’s a boy. He can’t be more than ten.”

  “He’s not a boy anymore. He’s an adversary and he’s under arms. He’s a legitimate target,” Poppy scolded.

  Devin thought back and began to justify killing the boy. He remembered when he contemplated killing Alex, and then there was the whole reason they were even there. He had killed Renfield’s young son, but that was justified in his mind, the crazy child had just shot him and Tess. But this boy was just protecting his own, not hurting others, not going out and hunting down the innocent. The other times were justified, but this was murder.

  “Three minutes,” Poppy said, looking at his watch.

  Sweat began to bead on Devin’s forehead and his palms became clammy. If he didn’t take this shot, he’d be shot. This was his test and he had to pass it if he wanted to survive another day.

  “Two minutes, take aim, settle your breathing, you sound like a locomotive. Remember, sight alignment, sight picture and squeeze,” Poppy quietly said.

  The heat from his head and body fogged up the rear lens of the scope. Using his left hand, he wiped it.

  “Ninety seconds,” Poppy said into his radio.

  Through his scope, Devin watched the three people talking and laughing.

  A loud crack shook the ground as lightning struck and thunder rolled. Within seconds after a few more dazzling lightning displays, a steady rain began to fall.

  “This is good, very good,” Poppy said. “Forty-five seconds.”

  Devin was tense and his heart raced. He could feel his body slightly tremble. His cheek was firmly welded to the rifle stock and his eye relief to the scope was just right. He watched as the three on the bridge celebrated the rain. The boy raised his arms into the sky and laughed. The boy then took off his beanie and locks of long blond hair fell to his shoulders. Devin blinked repeatedly. Was he seeing something wrong? A man next to the boy walked over and put his arm around him and kissed the boy on the head.

  “Thirty seconds.”

  Devin kept his eye glued on the boy, but now he knew this wasn’t a boy, it was a little girl.

  The girl was laughing and smiling. She opened her jacket slightly and showed the man on the far right her T-shirt, a silver crown emblazoned on a hot pink background.

  “That’s not a boy, it’s a little girl, maybe nine or ten years old,” Devin said in a nervous tempo.

  “Twenty seconds.”

  “It’s not a boy, it’s a little girl. Don’t you hear me?”

  “Fifteen seconds, take aim and squeeze.”

  “I can’t kill a little girl,” Devin exclaimed as he pulled his face away from the scope.

  Poppy ripped his pistol from his shoulder holster and held it at Devin’s head. “Get back on that rifle. You have ten seconds. If you don’t take the shot, I’ll shoot you on the eleventh second.”

  “It’s a little girl.”

  “Five, four, three.”

  Devin felt the tip of the pistol muzzle on the back of his skull. He got behind the rifle again and placed the crosshairs on the girl’s chest, directly in the middle of the silver crown.

  “Two, one.”

  Devin’s finger began to apply pressure to the trigger. He fought a strong temptation to close his eye; if he was going to do this, he needed to witness his own moral decline.

  “Zero, fire.”

  “Forgive me,” Devin whispered and squeezed the trigger.

  The rifle recoiled heavily into Devin’s shoulder, the .30-06 bullet exploded out of the barrel and raced towards the target.

  As if choreographed perfectly, the girl leapt into the air and spun around, simulating a pirouette ballet move.

  Devin’s bullet struck where she had been and ricocheted off the concrete bridge.

  Lost in his own world, Devin didn’t even hear the other gunfire. In unison, a volley of fire rained down on the bridge and other targets in the community.

  The two men were hit and toppled to the ground. The girl turned in horror at the scene and ran for cover behind a concrete jersey wall.

  “You fucking missed her!” Poppy shouted.

  “She moved at the last millisecond.”

  “I should just fucking shoot you here,” Poppy said, pressing the muzzle of his pistol into Devin’s head.

  From concealed positions in the community, a barrage of return fire began to hit the tree line.

  “It wasn’t my fault; she moved at the last second.”

  Several rounds hit the ground in front of Devin and Poppy, blasting dirt into the air and hitting them.

  “Let me get sights on where this gunfire is coming from,” Devin said.

  “Argh,” Poppy grunted in frustration.

  Devin ignored the cold steel against his head and pivoted the rifle towards the houses. He began to scan for targets.

  “Find new targets and this time don’t fucking miss!” Poppy barked. He lowered the pistol and pulled out a set of binoculars.

  Devin wasn’t sure what would happen to the little girl, but knowing that he hadn’t killed her made him feel good. Although, he’d later have to deal with the fact he had pulled the trigger and only by fate did she move out of the way. With no time to focus on such things, he surveyed the houses, finding targets and engaging. One shot after another erupted from his barrel, striking targets.

  Renfield’s men advanced over the bridge and in the far distance the hum of engines signaled the amphibious assault. The battle was on, and if they won, they’d discover the person behind the death of Renfield’s son wasn’t there, because that person was within their own ranks.

  The community put up a strong resistance until the men came ashore. Forcing the people of the community to defend two lines stressed their defenses and soon they collapsed. The fighting then turned bitter and bloody as Renfield’s men went house to house, killing and maiming.

  Once the fighting began to wane, Poppy pulled Devin and, with two other snipers, drove into the community. Smoke billowed from many homes as uncontrolled fires moved down streets. Bloodied bodies were strewn across roads, sidewalks and front yards. Those who hadn’t been killed by Renfield’s men begged and cried for their lives as they were gathered up for prizes or execution. The search was on for anyone who might have played a part in the shipyard raid.

  Poppy made a turn and saw a large group of his men massed near an old country club. They were cheering and chanting.

  Devin couldn’t make out what was occurring, but he knew it wasn’t good.

  Stopping just feet from the group, Poppy jumped out and hollered, “What’s going on?”

  “We foun
d their leader. He’s holed up inside,” a man answered.

  Several of the pirates were holding torches, ready to set the building on fire.

  “Everyone stop!” Poppy ordered as he pushed his way to the front. “Stop and shut up!”

  Slowly the mob calmed down and grew quiet.

  Poppy turned and called out, “To the man in charge, come out. We need information that you have. If you give us this information, we’ll spare you.”

  Devin watched from the top of the truck. He was curious how this would go down. If he was the leader of this community, there’d be no way he’d surrender to these pirates.

  “I say, my name is Poppy Morant. I’m with Captain Renfield. Surrender and help us or most surely die!”

  No formal response, but voices could be heard arguing inside.

  “I’m counting to ten, and if you don’t surrender, I’ll burn that building down and show no mercy after that!”

  The volume of the voices inside increased. It was clear that whoever resided in the building were having a major argument.

  “One, two, three…”

  A single gunshot came from inside and seconds later a hand holding a white sheet emerged from the front door.

  The pirates cheered at the sight of the surrender.

  “Come on out,” Poppy ordered.

  A short and chubby man nervously stepped out, the white shirt he was wearing was covered in blood, and the small-framed eyeglasses perched on his nose were crooked with one lens cracked.

  “Come, step forward. I have a few questions for you,” Poppy ordered, his tone lowered.

  The man continued his cautious approach, slowly taking each step.

  “Hurry, man, I don’t have time for this. Hurry your ass up!” Poppy finally bellowed.

  Scared out of his mind, the man flinched when Poppy yelled and scurried towards him with haste, stopping a few feet from Poppy.

  Poppy looked the man up and down and wasn’t impressed. “Are you the leader?”

  “Um, yeah, yeah.”

  “You don’t look so sure.”

  Standing more erect, he said, “Yes, I am.”

  “Did you shoot someone inside?” Poppy asked, genuinely curious.

  “Ah, yes,” the man answered, almost stuttering.

  “Why would you kill one of your own?”

  The man stared at Poppy and then looked at the twenty others behind him. “He, ah, he didn’t want to surrender.”

  “Ha, so you wanted to surrender and this other man didn’t. Please don’t tell me he was your leader, was he?”

  “Yes, he was the constable of the town.”

  “Oh, you call this richy-rich hood a town. Hmm?” Poppy said as he played with a single braid that hung from his goatee.

  “Please just take what you need and leave us,” the man said.

  “What is your role in the town?” Poppy quipped.

  “Treasurer.”

  “So you’re a bean counter. Listen, I have to move on, and I only need a couple questions answered. If you answer them honestly, I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Did your town raid our shipyard several weeks ago?”

  Answering quickly, he said, “No. I don’t know who you are.”

  Poppy looked at him closely, trying to pick up on anything that could tell him if he was lying. “Are you harboring anyone who might have attacked us?”

  The man looked down.

  “Are you?”

  “Not sure, but someone did wash ashore a few weeks ago. They were a bit beaten up.”

  “Where is this person?”

  “At the Mattinglys’ house, 15896 Palm Drive.”

  “Anything else you’d like to share?”

  “Like?”

  “Do you have anything of value that’s hidden? By telling us it does prevent these overzealous men from ripping everything up.”

  “Like?”

  Poppy leaned in and said, “If you don’t tell us where you’ve hidden everything, I’ll have your tongue cut out and then have you flayed.”

  “There’s a basement—”

  Poppy held his hand up, interrupting the man. “Tell it to this man. I have to go.” Poppy turned and walked back to the truck. Along the way he grabbed several men and ordered them into the truck.

  Devin was constantly amazed by Poppy. He was a tyrant and bloodthirsty killer, but he had an interesting way about him.

  “Where are we going?” Devin asked.

  “To the Mattinglys’ house, we have someone of interest there that I’m sure the captain will want to meet.”

  Dulce, New Mexico

  It had been a long time since Mueller had been excited, especially about another human being. He wasn’t looking at Lisa romantically, but she had grown on him quickly. They talked endlessly like two old friends. Having the warmth and charm of another made him feel good; it was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while and he was enjoying it.

  When he heard her shuffling around in the lab, he rushed out of his office to check on her. “Good day, Lisa.”

  “Hi.”

  “Good nap?”

  “I’m feeling better and better. If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom,” she said, slowly making her way across the room.

  “Um, do you play cards?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  Like a child he jogged into his room and grabbed a deck from his desk drawer and raced back out. He pushed the box, her makeshift nightstand, in between his chair and the bed.

  As he shuffled he heard the rubber soles of her slippers scuffing along the laminate floor on her way back. She plopped onto the bed and leaned against a pile of pillows.

  “What would you like to play?”

  “When can I leave?”

  “Soon. Do you like poker, pitch?”

  “Can I walk around, get some sun?”

  He stopped shuffling the cards and looked at her. “I don’t see why not.”

  “Let’s go now. I want to play, but I need to feel the sun on my face.”

  “Now? I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, you’re still weak and you really need to rest.”

  She grunted under her breath and sighed.

  Seeing her disappointment, he thought for a moment and came to the conclusion that he probably could take her out. He grinned widely and said, “Oh, why the heck not, let’s go.”

  She perked up immediately and asked, “Is this appropriate?”

  “You’re fine. I just hope it’s sunny out.”

  He escorted her through the long passageways and eventually to an old freight-style elevator.

  To her it felt like they were riding the elevator forever.

  “How far down are we?”

  “Twenty floors?”

  “Whoa.”

  “What did you do before?” he asked.

  “I was an assistant at a chiropractor’s office.”

  “So you understand a bit about medicine?” Mueller asked.

  “I hope it’s sunny out,” she said, not following along with every detail of their conversation.

  “I hope so too.”

  The large elevator slowed slightly then without notice stopped hard. This caused her to lose her balance and fall against the metal wall of the elevator.

  He steadied her and asked, “You okay?”

  She looked at the small details of the elevator and could see that it was old. When the doors opened, she took notice of the long passageway’s gray faded concrete walls. Not only did it look old, she swore it smelled old too.

  Her excitement began to build as they drew closer to the exit. As they approached the door, several uniformed guards passed them.

  When they reached the exit door, he stopped her and said, “The outside is right through that door.”

  “Yeah.”

  “After you,” he said and pushed the door open.

  The door swung wide, but a shadowy figure darkened the door.


  Mueller froze when he saw it was Horton.

  “Dr. Mueller, what a pleasant surprise,” Horton said and offered his hand.

  “Chancellor, nice to see you.”

  “Who is this lovely lady?” Horton asked, staring longingly at Lisa.

  “She’s a patient. Her name is Lisa,” Mueller answered, gulping.

  “A patient? How peculiar. Tell me, Lisa, where are you from?”

  “Las Cruces.”

  “What brings you here?” Horton asked her while cutting Mueller a look.

  “I was at a camp when several men gathered me, my brother and a few others, and brought us here. The doctor here told me we were sick with this new virus. It was scary; I almost died. Thankfully because of him, I lived.”

  “I see.”

  “If you’ll excuse us, Chancellor, we were headed outside to get some sun,” Mueller said, beads of sweat building on his upper lip and forehead.

  “Absolutely, please go. I’d hate to take time away from your field trip,” Horton said with a tinge of sarcasm.

  Mueller took Lisa by the arm and hurried her along.

  Horton turned with a devilish smile and watched them rush off.

  Charleston, South Carolina

  “Nice McMansion,” Devin joked as they pulled up in front of the address.

  Poppy ignored Devin’s humor and briskly hiked up the long sidewalk towards the front door.

  Devin got out and quickly followed Poppy. The three other men fanned out.

  Unafraid, Poppy walked up to the front door and with one powerful kick the door exploded open. He pulled out his pistol and marched in with no regard for his safety.

  Devin heard several shots but was unsure who had done the shooting. He raced in and a dozen feet away lay a man at the bottom of a long flight of stairs.

  “My name is Poppy…” Another gunshot cracked and hit Poppy in the shoulder. He reeled back and screamed in pain, “Motherfucker!”

  Devin dove and took cover behind a wall. Foolishly he had come inside with no weapons. He remembered seeing a pistol lying on the floor next to the dead man.

  Glass shattered in the back of the house and within seconds two pirates appeared from the rear door.

  Poppy looked at his shoulder, grunted in pain and barked, “You two, upstairs!”

  The instant the first man touched the bottom stair he was shot in the chest, killing him instantly.