Extinction Shadow

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Extinction Shadow Page 18

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

Not Variant either.

  Dohi moved closer, shining his light to see it was a deer.

  More of the red webbing grew from open wounds. The chest slowly rose and fell, blood-covered fur glistening in the light. Every time it exhaled, it let out a haunted groan.

  The Variants did not discriminate when it came to live prey, and it seemed that their wide taste in food extended to their use of living creatures for whatever this was.

  As the rest of Team Ghost filtered in around Dohi, their lights filled the tunnel. Other animals hung from the walls. Webbing grew from all of them. Some of the creatures were nothing but skin and bones, their fur falling away in large clumps.

  Dohi said a prayer for every animal that the Variants had done this to as he moved deeper. Heat swelled in his chest. This was an abomination of nature.

  He had read Kate’s report on the flight and understood that such fast-spreading growths needed sustenance. The Variants seemed to be turning humans and animals into fuel.

  Team Ghost pushed along through the darkness.

  Fitz pulled out his knife and ended the suffering of the deer and other living animals behind them. Dohi flinched at each sound and walked faster at the sight of columns of light in the distance.

  A way out of this hell.

  Dohi followed the light to a ramp of scree that led into the sunlight. This was the end of the tunnel. He made his way up on the side of a hill overlooking Lake Superior. The vast freshwater body stretched all the way to Michigan.

  The rest of Team Ghost joined him, fanning out to follow the Variant footprints that scattered in all directions. Whoever or whatever was organizing these monsters knew what they were doing. There was no easy path forward.

  Except…

  Dohi dropped to a knee. A slight glint caught his eye. A flash of scarlet peeking out from the black soil near his boots. He hooked a finger on the red tendril and pulled it up. More of the red webbing unearthed itself as he pulled on the organic cables.

  The more fibers that Dohi pulled up, the more certain he was that these tendrils would lead them to something. But when Fitz signaled for Ace to use the R2TD system again, they found no more tunnel systems. It seemed that while the fibers continued on, the tunnels were only dug when the beasts were close to the outpost.

  “Might want to tell command what we’re finding,” Dohi said. “If I had to guess, the Variants don’t just tunnel all the way from one part of the country to another.”

  “No, shit,” Lincoln said. “That would be impossible.”

  Rico reached out toward the webbing Dohi had in his gloves.

  “This reminds me of something I saw on the National Geographic channel once,” she said. “The world’s largest living organism—at least at that time—was a mushroom. It covered like 2000 acres of forest in Oregon. Most of it all just tiny filaments underground.”

  Lincoln bent down to pull up another strand. “Don’t look like mushrooms to me.”

  “You missed the point,” Rico said.

  “Come on guys, keep digging this shit up so we can see where it leads,” Fitz ordered.

  The team worked for an hour to peel the fibers up, taking them south and deeper into the woods. Finally, as the light of day began to wane, Fitz called off the search.

  “Let’s get back to the outpost,” Fitz said. “We’ll pick this trail up at first light.”

  While they walked, Dohi looked southward, past the tree-covered horizon, wondering where those webbings would lead.

  “Seems like the Variants can collapse those tunnels at will,” he said.

  “Makes sense to me,” Rico said. “If those things are like muscles fibers or whatever Kate said, then maybe they can force the tunnels to contract.”

  “They dig the tunnels just far enough away so they can attack unseen, then poof,” Mendez said. “They yank the tunnels closed after they exit back out the other end.”

  “And still leave the fibers behind in this massive network,” Dohi said. “Hold up a second.”

  He pulled out a map from his pack, studying it in the waning light.

  “The tunnels—or at least the webbings—head this way,” Dohi said, tracing the direction they had followed over the map. “And the ones from Turkey River…”

  Fitz’s eyes widened, seeming to understand where he was going with this. “From New Chicago, reports said the tunnels were headed northwest. And from Kansas City, almost straight north.”

  “Well shit,” Mendez said. “I failed geography but even I know where that leads. It’s got to be New York.”

  Dohi laughed, a rare act. “Not even close, man.”

  “I know, I was kidding,” Mendez chuckled.

  “Only you weren’t, dumbass.” Lincoln looked over Dohi’s shoulder, glancing at the map.

  Dohi shook his head. “You guys never stop do you?”

  “So what are you thinking?” Fitz asked.

  “I’m thinking if you triangulate all of these tunnels, we know where this web might have originated from,” Dohi said.

  He jabbed a finger at the map right over Minneapolis.

  “All the networks we’ve discovered head that direction, and if these fibers need a lot of people to grow, there is probably more than enough food for them there.”

  “The Midwest outposts are rife with people,” Rico added. “Highest number of kidnappings before all this started, too.”

  “Goddamn you guys are smart,” Mendez said.

  “I guess we know where we’re going next,” Lincoln grumbled. “Back underground, huh?”

  Dohi had a feeling he was right.

  — 14 —

  Kate soaked in the astringent smells of the laboratory on Peaks Island. The stinging odor of the freshly sanitized whitewashed tiled floors and black lab benches never failed to energize her.

  Fluorescent lights buzzed on with the flip of switches.

  The lab itself wasn’t exactly cavernous, but working alone in here made the place feel like she was the last person left on earth. She had barely seen Beckham before he’d been sent off to SOCOM and her time with Javier felt like little more than an exchange of a few words before bedtime over the past forty-eight hours.

  As much as she knew she should rest, and spend time with her son, her country needed her again. No one else in the world had her experience and expertise researching Variants.

  Fortunately, she was getting the help she needed. Today she was receiving support staff and the body of an Alpha that Team Ghost had retrieved from Outpost Turkey River.

  She worked fast to get the lab in tip-top shape for the new arrivals. When she finished, she checked on the cell culture experiments with the samples from the webbing.

  Once again they had grown to the limits of the large plastic flasks she had placed them in. It seemed they grew out of each smaller cell culture plate and flask in a matter of minutes. The only limitation on their growth was the amount of nutrient media she placed in the containers.

  She turned at the intercom’s buzzer.

  Sergeant Ruckley stood behind the glass wall, near the intercom system.

  “Doctor Lovato, the new staff just landed and will be here shortly,” she said.

  Kate gave a thumbs up sign and went right back to work.

  One by one, she checked her smaller samples before moving onto the riskiest experiment she had setup. No laboratory she knew made much use of cell flasks larger than a liter or two. Even that was on the big end of things.

  When she saw the webbing would outgrow its container so quickly, she had put in a strange request with her suppliers that had thankfully been answered: she needed a fifty-gallon fish tank.

  The tank now housed a monstrous cell growth at the back of the lab behind a plexiglass window. Strangely, the cells no longer looked like the well-organized red webs, but rather lab grown meat.

  She walked over to check the mass of red cells. They seemed to throb and pulsate within the equipment. For the next thirty minutes, she examined the growth, wonder
ing if she should move it into a bigger enclosure. If they got any bigger the tank could fracture.

  A sudden knock against the lab’s door caused her to jump.

  This time Beckham stood behind the glass.

  “What in the hell is that?” he said, staring at the fish tank.

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” she said loud enough for him to hear through the window.

  She peeled off the nitrile gloves she wore, tossing them into the trash. Then she removed her lab coat and joined Beckham outside the lab.

  “How are you?” Beckham said, tugging on her hand.

  “Tired. You?”

  “We have a lot of work to do.”

  Kate had a feeling that could mean a number of things, but she didn’t ask. She simply wrapped him in a hug.

  “You know that doesn’t exactly answer my question,” she said.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  The click of footsteps pulled her away.

  Horn stood next to a tall man with dark, slicked-back hair. The newcomer approached with an extended hand.

  “I’m Doctor Jeff Carr,” he said.

  Kate took his hand. “Doctor Kate Lovato.”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Carr said. “The president has spoken very highly of your work. Your reputation certainly precedes you in…what’s left of the scientific community,” he finished with an awkward grin.

  Kate had stopped worrying about her reputation years ago. It was evenly split between hate and love after her scientific developments killed billions of those initially infected by the Hemorrhage virus, only to create the deadlier Variants.

  “Welcome to my humble lab,” Kate said. “I’m happy to have you here to assist with the work.”

  “Assist?” Carr’s eyebrows rose as if he was dismayed. “I thought this would be more of an egalitarian, team-based approach.”

  “Oh, of course,” Kate said, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable.

  Carr peered back down the hall and waved at the cadre of people surrounding a cart there. Kate moved for a better look, confirming it was indeed the cart used in a morgue to transfer corpses. This one had a plastic dome to keep the contents sealed.

  “Bring the subject in,” Carr said, waving.

  Kate stood aside as the team pushed the cart toward the lab entrance. Carr led the procession inside.

  He peered around the room, a discerning scowl on his face until he pointed to a corner.

  “It’s one ugly SOB,” Beckham said.

  The lab team filtered in and out of the room, bringing in boxes of supplies and equipment. Carr surveyed them, barking orders at the techs.

  “Is he always like this?” Kate said in a conspiratorial tone to Horn and Beckham.

  “Definitely takes some getting used to,” Beckham said.

  Horn exhaled sharply. “Guy like that probably likes the smell of his own farts. There’s no getting used to that.”

  “That’s just great,” Kate said. “I hoped an extra hand around here would make this a little easier, but…”

  “Well you got an entire team now,” Beckham said.

  The techs continued to unload equipment. The potential of their productivity had increased an order of magnitude, assuming cooperation with Carr wasn’t difficult.

  “The extra hands will help determine the Alpha’s connection to the webbing faster,” Kate nodded.

  “Sooner we can figure out how it’s working, the sooner we can shut it down,” Beckham said.

  “Doctor Lovato,” Carr interrupted from the other side of the lab. “What’s this monstrous thing growing in your cell culture room?”

  Beckham and Horn shot a glance at the aquarium.

  “I was going to ask the same thing,” Horn said. “Looks like what happens after I used to eat McDonalds.”

  “Very funny, Big Horn.” Beckham groaned, shaking his head.

  “That’s the webbing,” Kate said.

  Beckham motioned for her to join him in the hallway. He jerked his chin at Horn, too, and they all retreated into the shadows. If Kate didn’t know any better, she would say her husband appeared nervous.

  “This better not be more bad news,” Horn said.

  Carr shot them a raised eyebrow, peering curiously at them as the team of techs continued flowing in and out of the lab with equipment.

  Beckham began in a hushed voice. “Ringgold asked again about running for McCombs seat.”

  “Brother, you’re retired. Being a politician…well, damn, that’s the kind of stuff we told each other we’d never do,” Horn responded gently.

  “I know.”

  Beckham reached for Kate’s hand. “And I’m sorry. I am. I know we said we’d talk about it first but, with everything going on, we’re inches from anarchy in this country and inches from losing everything you and I and Team Ghost worked so hard to achieve. I can’t stand by, sitting here on Peaks Island, while everything crumbles.”

  Kate pulled her hand away. “We’re a team, Reed. There are people who need you here. Timothy. Bo. Your son.”

  A grimace cut across Beckham’s face. “I haven’t forgotten them or you or my friends. I’m just afraid that if we can’t stabilize the political situation, things will only get worse for everyone.”

  Horn clapped a hand over Beckham’s shoulder. “You know I respect you and look up to you, but I want it on record that I think this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”

  “I have to run for Senate,” Beckham firmly stated.

  “You don’t have to,” Kate shot back. “We’ve got plenty to do around here.”

  “You’ve got plenty to do. You’ve got a whole team to help you in the lab now, and you’ve been plenty busy with experiments since the raiders’ attack. I promise you won’t even miss me while I’m campaigning.”

  “You know that’s not true,” Kate looked away.

  Beckham leaned against the wall. “I’m sorry, Kate, but if I don’t run, who will?” He looked at Horn. “Clearly not Big Horn.”

  “God damn right,” he said with a snort.

  “You know politics can be just as dangerous as any mission with Team Ghost,” Kate suddenly responded. “Ringgold has enemies. Look at what happened to Senator McComb!”

  “She’s right,” Horn said. “With people angry as they are, who’s to say another crazy R.O.T. group shows up and tries to take you down?”

  “Or maybe they already have,” Kate said, thinking of the raiders.

  “My whole goal in running is to ensure that doesn’t happen,” Beckham said.

  “Still think this is the wrong move.” Horn kicked his toe against the tiled floor. “But damn it, you’re Reed Beckham, and you haven’t got us killed yet, so I guess I gotta support you.”

  Beckham offered him a measured grin and looked to Kate.

  “You know I support you, too, whatever you do,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I like it.”

  “I’ll take that for now.” He held her hand again, and this time she let him. “I’m sorry I basically agreed to this before talking to you first, but—”

  “We can talk later. I better get back to the lab.” Kate glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t trust Carr in there.”

  “One last thing,” Beckham pulled her back.

  “Ringgold wants me at a rally with her tomorrow, which means I’ve got to leave first thing in the morning,” he said.

  Kate sighed and shook her head. “I’ll see you at the shelter when I get off work.”

  “I’m sorry, Kate,” Beckham said.

  “Me too, but what can we do?”

  With that Beckham and Horn left the corridor and she returned to her office. The techs had a nearly complete autopsy suite ready. Atop the table lay the abomination still covered by the plastic dome.

  The beast underneath did not disappoint her expectations. The ape-like face with bat-like ears were even more gruesome than she had imagined.

  Long spines stuck out from under the back. They appeared
both delicate and dangerous, not unlike a stack of fencing sabers.

  Carr stepped up next to her. “It’s a beauty, right?”

  “Sure is,” Kate said. “Got any idea how it interacts with that webbing yet?”

  “I have a few ideas.”

  “Let’s get to work then.”

  Carr hesitated, suddenly not as ambitious as he was when he got here. Perhaps he had heard some of her conversation with Beckham and wondered if she was up to the task.

  “Sure you don’t need a break?” Carr asked. “You seem a little tense. I don’t want it to hamper our work.”

  “Nothing hampers my work.” Kate tossed a set of goggles to him and put some on herself.

  “Well do not let me hold us back then,” Carr said. “Please, lead on, Doctor Lovato.”

  ***

  “Gather round, boys!” Fischer yelled.

  He stroked the sides of his freshly trimmed mustache as his security guards and hired hunters approached. Over fifty men dressed in camouflaged fatigues with automatic weapons and high-powered hunting rifles stood on his property this morning.

  Another group had just parked in a gravel lot full of pickup trucks and dust-covered SUVs. Every security guard on the Fischer Fields payroll was here tonight, plus the hired help they had brought in to hunt.

  There were also the ten soldiers President Ringgold had sent to help secure the oil fields. The men had arrived yesterday in a pair of rusting Humvees, led by a man named Sergeant Ken Sharp. He and his boys had seen plenty of action, and Sharp was a Native Texan, which Fischer appreciated.

  But just ten men and some shitty equipment that looked like it had come from an Army surplus store?

  It just reaffirmed the fact her administration wasn’t serious about protecting his fields. And if the government wasn’t going to take care of the Variants in the area, he was going to do it the way they used to in the Wild West—with blood and bullets.

  Word had spread fast across the Allied States, and the men were all talking about what was going on: raiders and mysterious Variant tunnels popping up across the Midwest.

  Texas was a long way from the heart of the trouble, but everyone here knew it was just a matter of time before the Variants and their human collaborators hit the Lone Star State.

 

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