"It's so spooky," Gordon mutters, echoing my sentiments exactly. There’s no movement on the floor, other than Kingsley, Dom and Luke as they strategically place the C4 charges, but I expect at any movement for those pods to come to life. Images of hybrids with rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth, coming to life and attacking our guys down below sticks in my head and just won't let go. I'm jittery, all wound up like I've had a million cups of coffee. What the hell is wrong with me?
"Do you think they've mutated already?" Gordon whispers in my ear. I wave him away like a buzzing mosquito.
"How the fuck do I know?" I ask, irritated not so much by his question, but by the fact that I’m thinking the same thing. Have they mutated? Or are they still human. And more importantly, are they humans we may very well know? Could Sam be one of them?
There. I said it. I finally admit to myself what has been lurking in the back of my head for the past few days, ever since finding out about this warehouse of humans. I mean, it would make sense. Maybe this is why we never did find a trace of them. Maybe it’s because they weren't fodder but brought her for this other purpose.
I know I'm grasping at straws. And I know if that’s the case, then Sam is as good as dead anyway. These people are beyond our help. Doc Roger was adamant about that. Still, what if he is here? What if I could see him again? Just to see his face, one last time.
Before I even realize what I'm doing, I'm running down the metal stairs, jumping two at a time. An overpowering urge to find him is all I can think about. All I can feel. It consumes me, blocking out the shouts and dismay of the others. I ignore them all. There’s only one thing I care about right now. Finding Sam.
I approach the first oval pod and yank my knife out, slashing recklessly at the sticky substance. It cuts surprisingly easy and within seconds a face begins to appear. I pull impatiently at the white gossamer strings with my bare hands, revealing a young woman. Her face is serene, pretty and still very human. But not Sam. Abandoning her, I move quickly onto the next one and start the process all over again. The dark hair of the man in this pod jolts my heart like a shock-wave, and I frenziedly yank at the mesh like substance. But it quickly becomes evident he’s not who I'm looking for. Maybe the next one. It has to be the next one.
"Bixby!" The shout is very close to my ear, but the voice sounds so far away. Like Luke is yelling at me through a tunnel. I try to push by him...to get to the next pod. That might be the one. It has to be the one. It has to be him.
"Bix," he yells again, lifting me off of my feet. Preventing me from reaching the next pod.
"Let me go!" I scream. "I need to see. I need to see if he's here."
"Stop it," he yells, trying to pin my arms, but I flail at him like a mad woman. "I said...stop it..." he grunts in pain as I kick him hard in the shin, but he doesn't loosen his grip. “Bix, it doesn't matter." He finally manages to yank the knife out of my hands, preventing me from doing him any harm. "Do you understand? It doesn't matter if he’s here. He's beyond our help."
He drops me hard and spins me around to face him, his fingers digging into my arms.
"Do you understand?" He shakes me so violently, my teeth rattle. “Even if he is in here, you can't help him. Listen to me!"
He shakes me again and just like that, the cold knot of reality clenches tight in my gut, accompanied by an overwhelming sense of loss. It's like a hard slap to the face and I stop struggling. He's right. He's fucking right. It doesn't matter if Sam is here. I can't help him. I can't save him. I can't have him back. I can't ever have him back...
The trembling starts in my legs. Tremors shoot out over my entire body, causing all my muscles to go weak. If Luke wasn't holding me up, I'm pretty sure my legs would’ve buckled underneath me. But the pain. The pain is the worst. It pierces my heart like a dull blade, twisting and turning with every damn inch. It feels like I'm losing Sam all over again. The raw emotion comes spilling out of me in a shrieking moan.
"Whhhhhhhy?"
Biting back my tears of grief, I pound on his chest wanting to inflict the same pain.
"I don't know why, Bix," Luke whispers as he grabs my hands, stilling my assault. His eyes are twin pools of hurt, reflecting my own misery back at me. "But I'm so sorry."
He pulls me close to his chest. I let him. Broken, defeated, I don't have the energy to protest. His heart beats against my ear, rhythmically soothing, as he strokes my hair. His voice thick with sorrow, he keeps repeating over and over, "I'm so sorry."
He has nothing to be sorry about. I want to tell him that. I want to tell him how grateful I am for his unselfish support, and friendship, and love. But I don't say anything. I just let him stroke my hair in numb silence.
I become aware of the others around us. I ignore the quiet murmurings and Dom's muttered, “Told you she was a Nutter Butter." I really don't care what he thinks. Luke's protective arms holding me close are the only thing that's real to me at the moment.
"It's all set, Whitman," Kingsley voice interrupts, avoiding eye contact with me. Like he's scared shitless my crazy is somehow going to rub off on him. “We have to go."
I can feel Luke nod against the top of my head.
"Just give us a minute, will ya."
"You got five minutes, tops. After that I'm blowing it, whether you're out or not." Kingsley mutters, before ushering everyone else up the stairs. Their boots on the metal walkway echo about the cavernous room before I hear the door shut behind them, leaving Luke and me alone in the silent tomb.
He rocks me in his arms, back and forth. Like a parent with their child. It's comforting. It feels nice.
"You okay?" He questions finally.
"No." My answer is muffled against his chest.
"You will be."
"I know."
A bit more rocking.
"You ready to go?"
"I think so..."
He sighs, his breath stirring the hair on the top of my head. "I hear a 'but' in that voice."
I smile sadly. He knows me so well.
"Look at them, Luke. They aren't mutated or evolved or anything like Doc Roger said. They still look human. What if they can be helped? What if we’re about to take hundreds of innocent lives?"
He looks. I watch his face harden into a determined mask.
"I know what this looks like. But you saw the same thing I did, Bix. You saw what they turned into at St. Joseph's. Are you willing to take that chance? Are you willing the risk the lives of Amy, and Liv and everyone else at the Grand on that slight chance? Because I'm sure as hell not."
He knows I agree with him. I'm not about to risk anymore of the people I care about. But still, it tears at me, what we are about to do. And what if Sam is here?
"But what if, Luke? What if they can be saved? What if what happened to the hybrids at St. Joseph's really was caused by the docs' meddling?"
His troubled brown eyes stare into mine. "Then if there truly is a God, may he have mercy on our souls for what we are about to do. Now let's get the hell out of here before Kingsley decides not to wait for us any longer. I think our five minutes are up."
We join the others back on the road. They watch our approach warily. Kingsley has the detonator ready in his hand and he raises an eyebrow at Luke. Luke glances over at me, almost if asking permission. I nod at him. I'm ready. It's time to get this over and done with.
"Do it," Luke says softly and Kingsley plunges the detonator.
After everything we had been through these past few days, seeing the building collapse is totally anti-climactic. Following the initial explosion, the building simply just collapses in on itself, over in a matter of seconds. Its destruction is so serene and incidental. Like it shouldn't even be this easy.
I keep looking nervously over my shoulder, waiting for that other shoe to drop. But it doesn't. No leeches come barreling out of the trees, looking for a meal. No hybrids leap at us from the shadows, aiming to rip our heads of. There's just a sense of...finality. And if Sam is one of the infecte
d in there...then I guess this is my last goodbye. It's time to let him go. Until we meet again.
No one utters a word as we watch the mushroom cloud of dust start to dissipate into the air. There simply are no words for what we’ve done, I guess. I just hope to God we made the right call. But the longer we watch, apprehension starts growing in my chest. The injury on my back where the hybrid had sliced me open, it itches like crazy, the thought itching at my brain just as bad.
I reach for Luke's hand, needing his touch right now. His reassurance. He looks down at our clasped hands in surprise, then back up at my face. His surprise quickly turns to puzzlement, furrowing his brow. His eyes silently asking, 'What's wrong?"
"What if there are more?" I whisper.
EPILOGUE
The quarry warehouse sat alone and abandoned in its valley of dirt and sand. No footsteps mar the earth around the squat building, a testament to it having been forgotten about. No one had been in the old quarry, or entered this building for quite some time.
Inside, shadows danced and played with the dust motes that floated lazily in the feeble rays of the setting sun, filtering through the barred windows. A fine layer of dust covered the warehouse floor, disturbed only by tiny prints of the odd vermin that dared to wander through looking for a hopeful tidbit.
One such critter scampered through now, running in and out of the pillars of white that dotted the floor like chessboard pieces; silently waiting for some master to move them about.
It paused at the base of one pillar, its nose raised in the air, sniffing daintily. It had made this place its home for the past little while. It had felt safe enough. But tonight...something seemed different.
The pillar shifted slightly and the mouse stilled. Wary but not afraid, its beady little eyes traveled up and stared curiously. It watched as the cocoon like structure shifted again causing dust to fall noiselessly around it. The next cocoon shifted. And then the next. A shimmer seemed to encapsulate the whole building, like an unseen wave of electricity had swept over its inhabitants.
Arms erupted from the mesh covering, causing the little critter to finally squeak in panic as it scampered away. Its brain, too undeveloped to understand the birthing happening around it, did instinctively know that to stay in the open would mean certain death.
Its tiny, furry body squeezed underneath the door and scampered into the night leaving the warehouse behind.
The warehouse came alive with movement. Arms flailed at the sticky substance, ripping and tearing it away from the bodies underneath. Humans arose from the pods, re-emerging back into a world they had already been born into years ago. No cries or screams accompanied this birth, however. It all occurred in complete and utter silence.
One re-born toppled from its covering and landed in the dust on its knees. Shaky hands tore at its chest, leaving a deep groove of crimson across the entwined hearts tattooed just above the left breast. Smokey gray eyes opened in panic and its parched throat, weakened from years of disuse, struggled to form the one word screaming loudly in its head.
"Bixby."
***
Thank you for reading. Please consider leaving a review on the online retailer where you purchased this book.
Other works by Michelle Bryan
Awaken (New Bloods Trilogy Book 1)
Ascension (New Bloods Trilogy Book 2)
Grand Escape (Strain of Resistance Prequel)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Biography
Michelle Bryan lives in Nova Scotia, Canada, with her husband, son and two crazy felines. Besides her family her other passions in life consist of chocolate, coffee and writing. When she’s not busy being a chocolate store manager or spending the day at her computer, she can be found with her nose stuck in any sort of apocalypse book. Please visit her on Facebook, Goodreads, and Amazon or follow her on Twitter @michellebry101. She would love to hear from her readers, so feel free to leave comments or ask questions.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Strain of Resistance (Book 1) Page 18
