steel beams that would never be continued, bags of cement that would never be mixed and
equipment that would never be used again, all overlooked by a wooden foreman's tower. Various
floodlights that somehow still had power lit up the area, although shadowy recesses were stil present everywhere.
Jacob grimaced. He hated construction sites – they offered too many possible hiding places for the
Infected.
Wordlessly, Samantha holstered her pistol, pul ed the Winchester 70 from its strap on her shoulder,
and had it loaded in less than five seconds. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, and the others
nodded in approval, taking up positions behind makeshift barricades of aggregate bags and concrete
barriers to cover her.
The fiery young woman recalled the hunting trips her father had taken her on years ago, and she
was starting to feel just as comfortable with the rifle now as she did back then. She centred the
crosshairs of the scope on the head of one unfortunate individual mil ing back and forth on the far
side of the area.
BLAM!
The gunshot sounded deafening in the quiet. As the infected man tumbled to the ground, never to
move again, the group waited in anticipation for the noise to draw other threats out of hiding.
However, after a ful minute, nothing and no one appeared.
"Alright, let's go through this construction yard, and then we can cross the street to the power station on the other side," Corvo said as he stalked forward, leading with Colt M4.
However, no sooner had they made their way into the middle of the site that the silence was again
suddenly shattered by a chorus of enraged shrieks as a score of people appeared from shadowy
corners (and goddamn it, Markus could have sworn that he heard the cry of a Leaper as well).
Hammering staccato rose up in answer, and flashes of light filled the construction site as the
combined pulse of hot lead from the assault carbine, HK MP5 and Glock 18 slammed into heads and
chests, sending blood and brain-matter spraying into the air.
Corvo adamantly refused to believe that the Common Infected could have set a trap, even though
the ambushers had clearly waited until their prey was out of cover before revealing themselves, and
attacking from multiple directions. They could not have possibly retained such a high brain function.
And if they had… wel , that was a very upsetting thought.
Sweat beaded Samantha's brow as she fired off several more shots from the Winchester. Three
infected people went down in a row as a single one of her high-calibre bullets penetrated their
bodies, one after another. The Infected were closing in fast. She cast down the rifle and drew her
SIG-Sauer, the pistol barking as she aimed and fired in quick succession, dropping a multitude of
attackers.
Something detached itself from the shadows and flung itself at them with a bloodthirsty scream. A
round of automatic gunfire stopped it in its tracks and a body crumpled to the ground, dark blood
pooling around it.
"Nice shot, old man!" Jacob yel ed over the gunfire.
"Shut up and shoot!" he shouted back.
It was not a huge crowd which attacked them by any means, but the Common Infected ducked and weaved masterful y behind cover, causing many of their bullets to slam harmlessly into steel girders
and bags of aggregate, sending puffs of grey dust Corvoowing into the air.
"I'm low on ammo!" Jacob bel owed.
At that moment, a trio of bloodthirsty assailants leapt over a pile of forgotten construction equipment
and made a beeline for him, screaming bloody murder. His ensuing burst of gunfire consumed his
third-to-last clip. Fortunately, the last of the bodies slumped to the ground around him, and the
construction site fel silent once more.
"Fuck me…" Markus breathed.
"If you ask me, they'll be doin' the country a favour when they bomb this city," Corvo muttered,
reloading his assault rifle. He glanced at his watch: six-thirty in the evening. Stil over eleven hours
until the F-16 fighters arrived. "C'mon," he said, starting toward the far side of the construction-made-massacre site. "We've wasted a lot of time, and the army isn't gonna wait for us forever."
Markus shifted his weight slightly in a vain attempt to make the heavy load on his back more
comfortable. The backpack was positively-laden with food, weapon supplies, and now some spare
clothes scavenged from the couple's suitcases back in the hotel. It was a major pain in the ass,
although he supposed he would much rather be wishing that the bag was lighter instead of wishing it
was heavier.
Samantha slung the Winchester rifle back over her shoulder and begrudgingly started after Corvo.
She gazed over the multitude of slumped and stricken bodies – a host of sick and out-of-mind
people, murdered by their hand. She was stil angry with the way the old man had so callously
refused to even check to see if it was indeed a person who needed help back in the Harbour View
Hotel. The young woman liked to think that if she could help to save someone – anyone – in this
mess, it could help her to atone for the atrocities she committed down the barrel of a gun.
She could not help but remember what the old man had said before, back in that little convenience
store in Fairfield a week ago: "You'll have to do some bad things before this is all over… We'll all have to, if we want to stay alive."
What were they wil ing to sacrifice, just to survive?
"I'm sorry," she said slowly to the graveyard that surrounded her. "I real y am."
Unbeknown to the team of survivors, a pair of gleaming white eyes watched them from nearby, just
outside of the range of the floodlights in the construction site. Genetic mutation in a person's body
due to the Green Flu causes, among other things, an additional muscle to develop in each eye to
help control the dilation and contraction of the pupil.
At this moment in time, the observer's pupils were ful y open, casting the world in a hazy orange hue.
However, four organisms held their attention. The calculating brain analysed and determined three
tal figures, one of which was rather stocky. The fourth, however, was shorter than the others and
more petite – a lighter and easier target.
A savage hiss escaped from the predator's lips as it vanished into the darkness.
Chapter 51
11.5 HOURS UNTIL FAILSAFE
Smoke rose over the buildings as the city of Newburg burned, its streets choked in the hazy orange
glow of the gathering twilight. Four ant-like figures peered cautiously out from the end of an al eyway
to see a (sadly) now-common scene of carnage – the headlights of abandoned or overturned cars
littered the street in one direction, while the menacing figures of hundreds of Infected could be seen
further up the street the other way.
"That must be where we came out from the Harbour View Hotel," Corvo whispered. He gripped his
rifle and motioned for Jacob to lead them across the road. "This way."
The group quickly crossed the street, covering each other, and entered a darkened area, the earthy
ground spotted with weedy clumps of grass here and there. Huge pieces of machinery and
antennae-looking devices were clustered throughout the area, surrounded by chain-link fences.
"I've always thought these power-plant gizmos look creepy," Jacob said, sparing a glance around.
"It's a substation," Samantha chimed in.
"What's
that?"
"Wel , the power that comes out of a power-plant is too high a voltage for normal household
appliances, so substations convert the electricity back down to a useable voltage." Realising how
nerdy she sounded, she shrugged. "Or something like that."
"How'd you know that?" Markus asked, sounding impressed.
The young woman smirked. "Just one of many useless tidbits of info I have to offer."
"Maybe you can shed some light on why Markus is so bald or why Corvo is so old," Jacob cracked
from his position, crouched down near one of the fences.
"Quit screwin' around," the gruff voice of the man in question berated the biker as he came over to join them. "A Leaper could've jumped us while you lot were crackin' jokes."
"Calm your farm," Samantha spiteful y expressed. "We're just having some fun."
Corvo narrowed his steely grey eyes, finding the challenge to his authority highly irritating. Did they
al think this was some kind of game? "We got time to have fun, we got time to haul ass." He levelled his Colt M4 forward and moved off into the gloom without another word, Samantha scowling after
him.
The grim industrial station was shrouded in a murky darkness, pierced by four flashlights and
occasional y broken by the muzzle-flash of a pistol. Blood and gore sprayed into the air as the heads
and chests of the occasional straggling Common Infected were assailed by bullets. The tall spires of
the substation antennae and machinery, coupled with the chain-link fences, gave rise to a
claustrophobic setting, and one which Corvo was decidedly not happy with. Claustrophobic
was not the way one wanted to feel when faced with the possibility of wal -to-wal Infected between
them and the airport. Not to mention a Leaper could jump these fences in a single bound no
problem.
As the group was marching toward a row of maintenance shacks, lit up by a large lighting tower
which somehow still had power, he held up a palm, signal ing for the group to stop. He and Jacob
took to inspecting the bodies of some army personnel lying in the shadows for anything useful, the
argument which had flared up between the two men in the hotel brushed to one side for the moment.
There were more important things to worry about right now.
While this was happening, Markus and Samantha kept a vigilant watch back the way they came,
SIG-Sauers primed and ready. They did not know that danger lurked not behind, but above.
"For the record," Markus said quietly, "I would've gone with you to see if it was a survivor back in the hotel."
Samantha grimaced, the haunting sound of crying stil echoing her mind. A fresh flash of anger flared
up inside her, even as she tried to convince herself that they were doing the right thing. "Corvo was
probably right," she final y offered. "If we'd run into a Jaguar, we would've been screwed. It's
probably better if we keep a low profile."
Her friend quirked an eyebrow at this. "But you don't believe that, do you?"
"Of course not!" she vented quietly, lowering her pistol to look at him directly. "If everyone thought the same way, there wouldn't be a country united against the Infected anymore, just selfish people
looking out for themselves."
"Corvo ain't selfish. He's just doing what he thinks is right."
"I know. It's just…" Samantha sighed, brushing a strand of dark-brown hair out of her face. "I'm not sure if Corvo's heart is in the right place when it comes to outsiders anymore. Not after what
happened with the Slaters."
She could see Corvo had come to care for their little group, and her in particular, greatly. After
everything that had happened in the past few horrible weeks, she had come to depend on him and
trust him completely. Her being knocked out, tied up and held hostage by the Slaters had obviously
shaken Corvo more than she thought. Despite his gruff exterior, there had always been a warmness
underneath. Samantha knew it was stil there, only it was now boarded up behind a cold, hard drive
to get them al to safety, and to hell with anyone else.
She did not like the changes she was seeing in the old man.
"Don't worry, once we get rescued by the army, everything wil be better," Markus' voice cut into her thoughts. He shot her a reassuring smile. "I promise."
Samantha returned the smile, once again finding herself appreciating how the man's upbeat attitude
could always brighten her mood. "Thanks, Markus. You've always been a good friend in al this. In
fact, you're probably my best friend now."
Before he could reply, an awful slurping noise echoed around them.
SHLKT!
Something wrapped tightly around her, and she thought one of the others was grabbing her for some
reason. Next thing she knew, she was off her feet and being slammed into the side of one of the
surrounding buildings, her senses stunned and dazed. Why was she being dragged up a building…?
"Smoker's got Samantha!" she heard Markus' voice shout out from somewhere down below.
Gunfire rang out, but she was pul ed up and over the roof, and still the tentacle-like tongue
constricted her tightly, not al owing her to reach for any of her guns.
Oh, god.
She could not twist around to see what had her, but she could hear it breathing, rasping, right behind
her. As she regained her senses, she struggled desperately against the beast's hold, but shrieked
when she felt a ragged claw slash across her face, and the warm sensation of blood trickling down
her cheek.
Her blood.
That was nothing compared to what happened next. Samantha screamed in pain when she felt the
sharp stabbing of teeth sinking into her skin. It was utter agony, and she struggled more violently, but that only increased the terrible pain at the base of her neck. The tentacle snaked tighter around her
throat, cutting off her oxygen. She started to gag, and for the second time in two days, the edges of
her vision faded to black.
This was it. She was going to die. That was the only coherent thought she could manage in her
current state of mind, her lungs failing her.
The next thing she knew, she slumped over, her head hitting the rooftop hard, but she barely
registered the shock. The former col ege student's focus was completely muddled, hazed and racked
with pain. The air was filled with smoke, and she was vaguely aware of four fits of coughing
somewhere nearby. It took her a moment to comprehend that one of them was her own. Her lungs –
previously starved of oxygen – were now fil ed with the acrid green smoke, and the sudden shift
made her feel sick.
Corvo led the way out onto the rooftop of the maintenance building, his pistol held forward in case
there were any more of the long-tongued bastards around. The hazy smoke clouded the air,
obscuring his vision, which only added to his panic when he could not see Samantha right away.
When she had been snatched, the wily old man charged right into the building and up two flights of
stairs while horrible screams erupted above him. He cursed the whole time – the damn Smoker, the
bloody stairs, Markus for not paying attention. He was not going to lose anyone. Not on his watch.
His heart leapt into his mouth when Markus' voice rang out, "She's over here!"
The prone form of the girl stirred when she heard the vaguely familiar voice, and looked up, her
vision blurred and bleary. Why did everything hurt so much?
"Hey, Samantha," Markus' anxious face appeared through the smoke, a hand held over his
mouth.
"She's bleeding," Corvo said worriedly. He nodded to Jacob. "You carry her. We gotta find some shelter while we patch her up."
The biker scooped her up in his arms without a word, and then they made their way over the roof
and back inside the building. Samantha's vision was swimming. She opened her mouth to try and
warn them what had happened, but was hit with a sudden wave of nausea.
"Hey." Jacob gave her a rough shake, jarring her. "Stay awake."
Ohhhhhh, she was going to puke if he kept jostling her like that. Her head was throbbing like hell,
she felt dizzy and disoriented, and ready to throw up. Were these the symptoms someone felt right
before they turned…?
"Through here!" Corvo said, leading them into a smal and cluttered storage room. "How's she doing, Jacob?"
"She's not lookin' so hot," came the gruff reply. "Come on, Samantha, stay with me," he growled, giving her another shake.
"Stop it…" she muttered, squinting her eyes open. Why was she even being carried? What
happened…? Her vision was blurred and she couldn't real y see anything anyway, so she closed her
eyes, only to be jostled again. The asshole real y needed to stop shaking her like that.
"Set her down over here," Corvo instructed, sweeping aside the clutter on a wooden table against
one wal while Markus closed and barricaded the door.
Jacob quickly made his way across the room, ignoring the low groans of protest coming from the
limp form in his arms. As soon as he set her down on the table, her eyelids drooped, but he snapped
his fingers in her face, startling her awake again.
"That Smoker gave off a lot of gas," Corvo said, opening the medical pack. "I hope that stuff ain't poisonous."
Wait… Smoker…? In a rush of recol ection, Samantha remembered what happened. She had to
warn them! "Guys," she said in a thick voice. "I've been bitten – " The rest of her sentence was cut off as she leaned over the side of the table and vomited on the floor.
"Oh, shit," Markus breathed.
Corvo surveyed her grimly. She had a nasty bump on her head where she had fal en… and there
was a scratch across her cheek, as wel as a nasty-looking bite on her shoulder, near the base of her
neck. The wound was bleeding considerably…
Damned Are We Page 31
