by LC Champlin
Onward, dodging between legs, shrimping around shins, shoving and tripping cannibals out of the way.
Blistered faces, open maws, and bulging eyes filled his vision whenever he looked up. Black oil dripped about him. Shit, shit, shit! The Mylar cape still clung to him by some miracle, acting like a poncho against the drool and vomit. The stench, however, stole the air from his lungs and made every breath an exercise in not retching.
On to the stairs, sliding and army-crawling down toward the railing.
Just a little farther, then the door. Wait, what if they were at the door? The authorities, that was.
Cannibals everywhere. Where had Sophia the sniper gone? And Birk? Had the FBI captured them? The thoughts drifted by like mist in a swamp. His limbs worked of their own accord as his consciousness separated to preserve sanity. He watched himself worm through cannibals as if by a third-person perspective in a video game. Monsters clawed at him, but they put little effort into the attacks.
Get up and run? No, he couldn’t risk the FBI snipers. There, the exit! Like the gate of Heaven, a tunnel out of the stadium lay ahead. No Pearly Gates, only the orange and blue of the Broncos.
He scrambled on hands and knees. Cannibals moved to stop him, their mouths open, but he scuttled by like a rat.
The Dalits filled the tunnel ahead. Perhaps a gate to Hell rather than Heaven described the passage. The barrier stood open ahead. He shoved through the throng, arms up to protect his face. Pretend they’re Times Square crowds. Pretend they’re—
They hissed and swiped at him, but with half-hearted intent, as if annoyed at the shove rather than hungering for his liver. Forging ahead with the crowd-swimming techniques that served him so well in New York City, he broke through into the main concourse. Freedom! Almost. Cannibals wandered the level. But no government agents descended on him. Did the Dalits deter them?
Breaking into a stumbling trot toward the stadium’s rear, he clicked his HT. The code for third floor. If his team couldn’t make it, they would signal with the rendezvous point. But with the authorities in the building, where could he go? The FBI surely monitored all radio channels and covered every exit. As usual, humans in their right mind proved more dangerous than lunatic cannibals.
Squelches responded over the radio, indicating the third floor, at the next gate. It came from . . . Birk.
Nathan kept close to the wall. Hissing, pounding feet behind—Now in the open, the cannibals might change their mind and attack him. The Big Bad Wolf had become the little pig running from the butchers.
Ahead, the door to a bathroom facing him opened. Birk appeared and waved him over.
Nathan shot through the entry. Eyes lifted to Heaven, he gasped for breath. His sides burned as ribs reminded him that the fractures had only recently fused. Adrenaline from the near-death experience made his hands shake. One, two, three—
“Did you get it?” Birk blurted. “Ugh, take that off.” Hand flick at the cape / space blanket.
With a grunt, Nathan shrugged out of the oil-splattered cover. “I have it. The repellent barely works.
“Give me the keys back.” Hand out. Birk complied.
Nathan’s radio hissed in his ear. Sophia? “Nathan Serebus.” No. Lexa Birk. He pulled his headphone out of the jack to play the audio for her brother. “If you can hear me, turn over the device to me. If you do not, or if you attempt to go to the authorities, you will die as a cannibal. If you’d like to know how you will become such, remember that I had you sedated. Does your back bother you at all near the scar?”
It did now. His whole body itched as his hair prickled.
Birk leered in disgust at the radio as if he could see his sister through the speaker.
“You should feel fortunate. You are the host of cutting-edge technology. It’s a delayed-release mechanism. I can remotely activate it. When I do, it will release the cannibal contagion directly into your body. I wonder how quickly it will begin to take effect, given its proximity to your spinal cord.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Nathan stripped off the climbing harness. Next, the vest. “Birk, is she telling the truth?” Did he trust him to tell the truth, though?
Judging by how Birk backed away, the answer was a resounding yes. “They were planning to use it as a novel delivery system.”
Shirt off now. “How deep is it?” Please don’t say under the muscle!
“It’s beneath the dermis. It’s inserted with a very large-bore needle, like for a birth-control implant or pet-ID chip.” He raised his finger in a gun gesture, as if Nathan needed an illustration.
A cannibal. I’m going to become a cannibal. Even if he did give her the transceiver, she would still infect him. She could not allow him to contact the government; he knew too much.
He whipped the tac knife from his belt. Click. Blade out.
Back already against the door, Birk raised his hands. “Wait—”
Nathan tossed the knife, caught it by the flat of the blade, before proffering it handle-out to Birk. “This goes against all my better judgment, but I don’t have a choice.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I need you to do what you’re best at. I need you to stab me in the back.”
Chapter 77
Back Stabbed
This Is a Call – Les Friction
“Eh?” Birk gawked at the knife as if he had no idea how to use it.
“Cut it out of me, you idiot.” Nathan shoved the grip against Birk’s chest. With common sense screaming for him to stop, Nathan turned his back on his sometimes enemy. “You know what it looks like. Find it.”
“Are you sure you trust me?” Sarcasm and mockery weighted Birk’s words.
This earned the twit a baleful glance. “Birk . . .” Calm down; don’t fuck up the best chance at life. “We haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but if you don’t do this for me, I’ll destroy this transceiver”—pointing to the disk on the floor—“and you will have to pray Sophia rescues you before I eat your liver. We both made mistakes, but this is our chance to rectify them.”
“What did the government mean about a plea deal?”
“We don’t have time for this. Get to work.” Nathan turned his back again. Fucking bastard—
“We have as much time as I feel like we have, unless you want to try to cut it out yourself. Or maybe Sophia will get here in time. Or maybe she’ll abandon us. Or maybe the government has arrested her. Oh, that’s an option too: handing yourself over to them so they can take it out, and then they can put you in a cell next to Big Dick.” The very taunt Nathan had used against Birk . . .
Nathan spun, took a step forward. Birk amazingly did not flinch. “Do you want to know how I was aware of your prison convoy? It’s because I was sitting beside you. I don’t know why I wasn’t killed with everyone else, but that’s not for me to know, apparently. The government cut me a deal: If I find the answer to this cannibal problem within a specified time period, they will drop all charges and let me get on with my life. If I fuck that up, then—”
“Then you admit to everything, or kill yourself. I heard you yelling.” Birk looked down for a moment, then up at Nathan. Sincerity manifested in his firm stance and gaze. “I want to make amends for what I’ve done. Turn around.” He made a circular motion with the knife blade.
Nathan obeyed, leaning against the sink to give Birk a better working surface.
“I should be able to find it.” Pressure to the right of Nathan’s spine, between the scapulae, beside the healed laceration. Pain shot through the area as Birk palpated downward. Nathan flinched.
“Don’t move.” More pressure, more pain. “Yes, that’s the end of it. Brace yourself.” Burning followed the cold blade.
Nathan gritted his teeth, squeezed his eyes closed. His fingers wrapped around the edge of the sink.
“Almost there.”
More burning. Warm liquid flowed down his back, tracking along his spine. “Get it out.”
The pain faded to the throbbing ache of an open wound. Ears humming, Nathan straightened.
“Look.” Birk pointed to the adjacent sink, where he had set a bloody object on a paper towel: a white rod two inches long and half an inch in diameter with rounded ends. Fibrous strands formed a sheath about it.
“There’s duct tape in the vest.”
Birk took the hint: he toweled off the blood, then stuck an X of tape over the wound.
Nathan slumped against the stall wall. He locked his knees. One, two, three—“Thank God. And . . . thank you, Dr. Birk.”
The researcher shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. “Here’s your knife.” He offered the blood-smeared weapon.
“Keep it. And don’t worry, I don’t have any blood-borne diseases,” Nathan assured as he pulled on his shirt and then the armor vest.
“What do we do with that?” Birk pointed to the white rod.
“We take it with us.” Pulling a Ziploc from one of his pouches, Nathan moved to the sink. “The government needs to know about this new technology.”
“Working with the government’s become a real habit, huh,” Birk snorted.
Holding the bag inside-out as if picking up dog vomit, Nathan bagged the offending object. His back ached, flaring at the memory of the device. “On second thought, you can carry it.” He dangled it before the researcher.
“Er”—hands up—“a contagion-release device that was in your body? I’ll pass, thanks.”
“If you want to cut a deal with the government, this will help you convince them you’ll be useful. It’s sealed.” He shook the bag once. The bar slid in the blood to the other end of the Ziploc.
“Ugh.” But Birk accepted it, dropping it in a lab-coat pocket.
Nathan uncovered the transceiver disc. Move the dial to 10. The light flickered. Back to 5? It blinked out. Not now! Nathan slapped the side of the POS. Nothing.
“I think the battery’s out,” Birk spoke up. “It might be damaged, too.”
Damaged. Considering the fall and escape, it would come as no surprise. He replaced the transceiver in its bag, which hung from his tac vest.
“Now what?” Birk murmured.
Chapter 78
Five O
Monster of My Own – Neverwake
Nathan growled. “Let’s go. Sophia will signal if she requires assistance. Maybe the transceiver will begin functioning again.” And maybe the cannibals would suddenly bow before him as pigs flapped by overhead.
“I’m not looking forward to going out there. There are cannibals all over, and I’m sure the government has people at every exit.”
“Good. You’re going to say hello to them.” Nathan smiled, congenial. “You wanted to make a deal with them, correct? I’m sure they’ll give you a reasonable plea bargain. They worked with me, after all, and I had far less to offer them than you do. Then again, I’m a bit better at negotiating.”
“You make the best of having nothing, I give you that. But they turned on you.” Birk jerked his thumb toward the arena. “We have technology they want. We should at least try to use it before we surrender it. I don’t trust them to keep their word after they threw you to the wolves. Oh, excuse me”—hands up—“I’m sure you would come back leading the pack. I meant, after they threw you to the cannibals.”
“Fine.”
An exit strategy existed, but it did not account for the government completely turning on them. Damn, why hadn’t he considered that contingency? Ah, right, because if they turned on him, no real escape existed. Trained professionals, they would cover every exit. Even if he escaped now, they would not stop hunting him until they got their man. Or was that the Texas Rangers? Well, they were out West.
Nathan nodded toward the door. Stack, open, go! He swung out, carbine up. Nothing—aside from a few cannibals along the railing and meandering down the concourse. An ambient hissing droned like running water from a faucet or air from an air compressor.
A few worst-case exit plans existed. The first assumed the government would fail to arrive. The second involved Nathan failing his mission. Neither cast the government in the role of hunters. However, a strategy did exist for the eventuality of LOGOS men arriving to take down the interlopers. But he’d estimated LOGOS would deploy fewer men than the FBI likely had.
“Birk, we’re going to the ground level, but we’ll take the emergency stairs so we’re not seen.”
“The emergency stairs with the cannibals? Those emergency stairs?” Pale, the researcher looked compulsively in the direction of the elevators, where they had encountered the abomination.
“Gunshots will be muffled.”
They trotted toward the defunct elevators and the emergency stairs beside them. Past the concession stands, around a free-standing kiosk—
“Serebus, stop!”
The female’s voice triggered reflexive action, bringing Nathan to a halt. Officer Rodriguez. Behind them. He didn’t turn. Birk’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
“You’re surrounded.”
Red laser dots appeared on Nathan’s chest. Amazing how tiny points of light could cause such dread, as if their crimson dance prophesied what would come if he moved: red bullet holes.
“Officer Rodriguez.” No emotion in the tone. No emotion in his heart. A bizarre peace filled Nathan. “I have not broken my parole conditions. On the contrary, the government has reneged on their end of the bargain.”
“Put your hands above your head and turn around slowly, Serebus. You too, Dr. Birk.”
Eyes ahead, the fugitives obeyed.
Rodriguez stood between two other officers, training her MP5 on the once and future prisoners. “Start explaining yourself.”
“Lexa Birk kidnapped me. She wanted me to rescue her brother”—head jerk toward the man in question—“whom LOGOS had abducted. I completed my task. Then I told the FBI and DHS that LOGOS was going to control the cannibals in the stadium. I instructed them where to find us. Officer Rodriguez”—locking gazes with her—“doesn’t that prove I am attempting to uphold my half of the plea deal? I want to save the world from this contagion. Birk wants to do the same. He’s ready to make a deal with the government. Thanks to his time as LOGOS’s captive, he has gathered valuable intelligence.”
Birk nodded, rapid and intense. “They kidnapped me from the prisoner convoy, then they kept me in the Mercury International Technologies building. They wouldn’t let me leave. I couldn’t call anyone, either. I wanted to call the police—”
“Where’s that?” Rodriguez interrupted. The question boded well.
“Colorado Springs,” the researcher blurted.
“Rodriguez, I don’t know what Special Agent Greg Saito is doing,” Nathan began, “but if you let us go now, I will fulfill my promise. I think I’m more use to you people free than in a cell—or dead. Please.” He spread his hands, still raised. “I saved your life. I know that doesn’t give you a reason to trust me, but . . .” He looked down. He had no way of making anyone trust him anymore.
She pressed her finger to her ear. “Officers, this is Rodriguez. Stand down.” Then she twitched her MP5 toward the emergency stairs. “Go, you two.”
“Excuse me?” Nathan studied her face. It showed sincerity. She didn’t intend to shoot him in the back when he ran?
“I’ll give you an opening if you take Gate 4 at the rear end of the stadium. But don’t fuck around. When you get far away from here, contact the DHS. Now go! Fuck, you’re the worst fugitives I’ve ever seen.”
“All right.” Birk bolted for the elevator.
“Thank you, Officer Rodriguez.” After a wave, Nathan charged after his cohort.
The movement triggered the cannibals’ hunter instinct: The nearest creatures’ heads snapped up, locking on their targets. Nathan pounded toward the door,
the Dalits were blurs in his periphery.
He hurtled past Birk, then used the wall to stop his momentum. Key—get in!
“Come on!” Birk glued his back to the door, his face chicken-skin pale.
Click.
Whipping the door open, Nathan stepped in, AR raised. Birk slammed the barrier shut.
A thud reverberated through its steel an instant later.
Chapter 79
Watching Over
Love Runs Out – OneRepublic
Six seconds after a squad of FBI troops tramped past his location, Albin eased out of concealment. Perhaps they would lead to Mr. Serebus. But did Albin dare follow? If they had infiltrated the facility completely, they no doubt watched via CCTV. With luck they would consider him one of their own, as they had done earlier.
Around him, the cannibals began to take notice of his and Judge’s movements. Then they turned to peer down the corridor, as if summoned. They left off sniffing in his direction to charge toward the new source of interest.
“Come, Judge. Let us see what so intrigues our hungry friends.”
He and the German Shepherd trotted along the concourse after them. The voice of sanity, safety, and survival screamed in his mind to leave, to at least enter the safety of the employees’ halls. But another voice, this one reckless yet stolid, urged him forward. As did Judge, straining at her leash.
Though his side ached and his neck throbbed, he pressed on.
The monsters outdistanced him. At least he chased them, rather than the other way about. He rounded the curve of the stadium, reaching the western side. A combat operative in tactical gear stood in the middle of the concourse. The individual turned.
“Officer Rodriguez?” he blurted, slowing.
