The Alpha let out another roar that nearly deafened Dohi as he tried to pry the blade free from its chin. It brought its fists down, hammering at his chest, and then climbed on top of him.
Suddenly blood sprayed from the Alpha’s mouth.
The creature screeched in agony as nerves and muscles and bones gave way to Ace’s machete. He hacked at the creature over and over until it finally succumbed to the injuries and died on top of Dohi.
Ace helped push the beast off him and then offered his hand. Dohi took it and rose to his feet, thanking Ace with a nod and a clap on the heavyset man’s shoulder.
The other two Variants lay dead next to trees. Lincoln and Rico were already fanning out to hold sentry while Ace bent down to the survivor.
The man crawled away on all fours.
“Relax buddy,” Ace said.
Mendez moved over to help.
The man struggled as they peeled off the dried mucus plugs covering his mouth. He sobbed and scooted away on arms covered in bleeding wounds. “They… They killed the others… I saw them… Oh, God! You’ve got to help me. Help… Help…me…”
“Take it easy,” Dohi said. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
Fitz pulled out his radio to reach command and walked over to Rico and Lincoln. “Help…help…” the injured man kept repeating through quivering lips.
“You’re safe now,” Mendez said. He and Dohi worked on dressing the wounds. The man was clearly in shock.
Fitz returned a moment later with a sour look.
“Guess we’re not going to have a celebratory beer tonight, huh?” Lincoln said.
“Not tonight,” Fitz replied.
“Please don’t tell us ‘all it takes is all you got,’” Mendez said. “I really, really need a hot shower and to hit the rack.”
“Yeah, bro,” Lincoln said, waving his hand over his nose. “Mendez ain’t lying. He really needs a shower.”
Fitz frowned. “Sorry fellas, but command has another mission for us,” he said. “As soon as we get back to base we’re shipping out.”
***
“I’m going to be here for another night,” Beckham said over the phone. “Maybe more.”
“Maybe more?” Kate asked. To her, that meant definitely more, but she had a feeling there was a good reason for the extended journey.
“I’m really sorry, but there’s a situation,” Beckham said. “President Ringgold has asked me and Horn to help monitor it.”
“I just want to remind you that you are retired.”
“I remember,” Beckham said. “This isn’t fieldwork.”
A sinking feeling grew in her gut. She recalled that last conversation she and Beckham had shared. How they feared the quiet. The calm before the storm.
Kate knew her husband probably couldn’t share details, but she had to ask.
“Is it really bad?” she asked.
“It isn’t good, that’s for sure.” Beckham let out an audible exhalation. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“Okay.”
“An outpost has gone completely dark and everyone there is missing.”
“Where?”
“Turkey River in northern Iowa.”
“How does an entire outpost go…”
“I don’t know, Kate,” he said. “I’ve got to go, but I love you, and will be home as soon as I can.”
“I love you, too, and remember what I said.”
“I’m retired. Got it.”
Kate said goodbye and let out a sigh. She hated knowing that his instincts might be right. That something was going on out there beyond the walls and gates and sensors.
All those technologies and measures they had relied on to protect the burgeoning communities around the Allied States had apparently failed Outpost Turkey River.
She prayed there was an explanation and the people living there were okay.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Javier beat her there and stood on his toes to look out the window in the door.
“It’s Jake and Timothy,” he said.
Kate nodded, giving Javier permission to let them in.
“Good evening,” Jake said. “We come bearing tasty gifts.”
Timothy raised an iced cake into the air at his father’s goading.
“Wow,” Kate said, reaching out. “Red velvet?”
“Sure is,” Timothy replied, looking sheepish. The teenager was definitely a notch shier than his father.
“Who told you that’s my favorite?” she asked.
“Javier,” Timothy replied.
Kate smiled and handed the cake to her son.
“Thank you so much for having us over for dinner,” Jake said, stepping inside. He bent down to unlace his boots, but Kate waved her hand. “Keep them on.”
“You sure?” Jake asked, polite as usual.
“Of course. Come on in, it’s so nice to have you two over.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Jake said.
“Kate,” she reminded him.
“The table is set!” Tasha called out.
“Sounds like you got some antsy guests,” Jake said.
Kate chuckled. “Antsy doesn’t begin to describe it.”
She moved to the kitchen with Jake and Timothy tailing her. The smell of fresh marinara over spaghetti filled the air. One of Javier’s favorites. Tasha and Jenny set the table while their dogs, Ginger and Spark, looked on from the connecting room.
Tasha was old enough to be left home alone to watch Jenny, but Horn preferred they stayed here when he had to leave the island. And Kate suspected the girls preferred it, too. The need to be around others was a psychological vestige of surviving war.
“Come get a plate,” Kate said to Jake and the kids.
Jenny and Javier raced over to be first in line. Timothy proved himself the gentleman, allowing Tasha to go first. Kate made a note to keep an eye on those two. Nearly the same age, she saw the looks they’d given each other and recalled her days as a carefree teenager.
“Looks really good,” Tasha said as she began to fill her plate.
“Next time, you’re the chef,” Kate said.
Jenny groaned. “Tasha can’t cook.”
“She’s learning.” Kate looked to Tasha with an encouraging smile.
“I bet Tasha is a great chef,” Timothy added.
Tasha’s cheeks turned red.
“That was Dad on the phone, right?” Javier asked. “When does he get back tomorrow?”
Tasha and Jenny both looked up from their full plates.
“Dad and Parker aren’t going to be home for another day or two,” Kate informed them. “They have more business to take care of.”
“Man…” Tasha said.
“I know, but they will be home soon,” Kate said, reaching across the table to place a hand on Tasha’s.
“You know, your fathers have been invaluable when it comes to training the security detail,” Jake said, looking at Javier and the girls in turn.
“How old do you have to be to join?” Javier asked.
Kate frowned, but wasn’t caught off guard by the question.
“Much older than you, buddy,” Jake said.
“About my age,” Timothy said proudly. He looked at Tasha to make sure she was listening. “I’ll be joining up soon.”
Jenny tossed the dogs a piece of food from the table.
“I saw that,” Kate said, not raising her eyes.
“But dad says…” Jenny began to say.
“His rules at his house, my rules at mine,” Kate responded flatly.
“Okay, sorry,” Jenny said, bowing her head slightly.
Kate didn’t like being harsh but, in a way, she had become a second mom to the girls over the past decade since they lost their mother at Fort Bragg. Horn was a good dad, but there was no denying he carried with him a certain gruffness and wasn’t a man of high formality.
And Kate was intent on teaching the kids manners.
“This is really good,�
� Tasha said, smiling as she went to take another bite.
“Sure is,” Jenny agreed.
Javier nodded, his long hair falling over an eye. He brushed it away. “My mom is the best cook.”
“It beats the pants off the potatoes and beans my dad makes,” Timothy said.
Jake laughed. “Never said I was a good cook.”
A wild wind blew, and tree branches scraped against the house.
Jenny’s eyes went wide and Tasha seemed to tense up at the sound of scratching branches on the window. Timothy reached for her hand. Kate could practically feel the temperature drop around the trio.
They were frozen in fear.
Those scratches along the roof, the wind rustling against the house all could be mistaken for the telltale claws of Variants on the hunt.
Eight years and still the teenagers were haunted by the memories of the slaughter and carnage they’d survived.
Javier looked between them, one eyebrow raised like he didn’t quite get why they were so scared. Unlike them, he had been born after the war. He’d been protected from the atrocities they’d borne witness to.
“It’s okay,” Kate said. “Just the wind.”
“I know.” Kate could tell the girl was starting to relax again. “Every time, in my head, I tell myself that’s all it is. But I can’t help thinking that maybe this time it’s different. Maybe this time it’s a Variant again.”
“We’re safe here,” Kate said. “Don’t worry.”
“It’s hard not to worry.” Jenny looked to Kate as she continued. “They teach us about the war in school. I can’t help thinking that it might happen again.”
“I won’t ever let anything happen to you kids,” Jake added confidently.
“All I know is that if a Variant does show up here, I’m going to skin the ugly bastard,” Javier said, gripping his fork and knife tightly like they were weapons.
“Javier Riley, what did I tell you about that language?”
“If dad and Big Horn can cuss, why can’t I?” Javier asked. “I’m going to be a soldier like them, so I got to act like one.”
Kate looked hard at him, not giving the boy an inch. The boy was a warrior in the making, that much was sure. She supposed it was inevitable growing up in a household like his and surrounded by a community that had fought tooth and nail to establish itself, but that didn’t mean she wanted that future for her son.
“You have a long time to figure out what you want to be.” A small smile played on Kate’s lips. “Maybe a scientist or a doctor…”
“A soldier,” Javier said firmly.
“You have a long time to decide. Either way, no cussing. Especially at the dinner table.”
“Fine. Sorry.”
She tried not to think about her son following in her husband’s footsteps as they continued eating. Javier idolized his father in every way, even growing out his hair and insisting it be as long as his dad’s.
The boy finished another bite and added, “I still want to protect people and kill the monsters.”
“It’s not just soldiers or policemen that protect us,” Jake said. “Those doctors and scientists your mom mentioned are even more important. Heck, you can easily find another guy on the street that can learn to stand in a tower like me.”
Jake tapped his temple. “But if you’ve got half the smarts your mom does, you could grow up to be one amazing scientist who saves more lives than I could ever hope to with my rifle.”
Kate smiled at the police officer. She appreciated the support in encouraging Javier to think of a different career. Of course, her own career as a scientist hadn’t exactly been free from danger.
“So, what happened at school today?” Kate asked, changing the subject.
Timothy was studying the themes and ideas in 1984. Tasha and Jenny had both taken a math test, and Javier was reading The Boxcar Children, which Kate remembered fondly from her own childhood. Knowing they were all getting to have a childhood was a victory in everything they had fought to achieve. Everything they had once taken for granted, and now had worked so hard to earn back.
Peaceful moments like this, when no one was a soldier or scientist or survivor. They were just family and friends, enjoying life, not worrying about a monster hunting them or where their next meal would come from.
It seemed almost like a joke when the distant call of an air-raid siren blared, shattering any illusion that moments of peace were anything but ephemeral now. Spark jumped to his feet, and Ginger’s tail curled between her legs.
“What is that?” Javier asked, slowing standing.
Timothy looked at his dad who rose from the table. Tasha and Jenny, too, knew exactly what it was and were already grabbing the dogs to get them ready to move.
“Javier, get the bug-out-bags,” Kate said.
“I’m going back to my place to get ours,” Jake said. “Grabbing a couple extra weapons, too.”
Javier hurried out of the kitchen and ran to the bedroom while the officer left with Timothy. Kate went to the office and grabbed her Glock from the safe. Then she unlocked the cabinet and pulled out an AR-15 and a bag full of magazines.
This was yet another harsh fact of reality. Emergency preparedness began as soon as Javier could walk. The community ran drills all the time, but those were always preceded with an announcement telling everyone it was just a drill.
There had been no warning about the sirens, which told her it was either a surprise test or it was real.
She wasn’t taking any chances. Palming a magazine into the AR-15, she then pulled the slide to chamber a round and confirmed the safety was still on.
“Follow me,” Kate said in her calmest voice. The girls secured a leash around each dog’s collar and took the Shepherds to the front room. Javier was there with the bags.
“I got yours, too, mom,” he said.
Kate put her bag over her back, doing her best to remain composed.
Act normal, and the kids will follow your lead, she thought to herself.
“We need to get to the shelter,” Kate said.
Javier slipped his hand into her free one and they walked out the front door, greeted by the wail of the air-raid sirens. All along the street, their neighbors poured out of their houses and headed toward the shelter.
Javier held out his free hand to Jenny. She took it, and kept her other hand wrapped in Tasha’s. Together, they hurried down the street, following the flow of the crowd. Familiar faces joined them along the way.
Like Donna and her son Bo, the mother and son that Beckham’s team had rescued during the war. The boy had looked scraggly and weak when she’d first met him. Since then, he’d grown into a young man with linebacker shoulders and tree trunk calves. Timothy and Jake ran to catch up, both armed with rifles and handguns. The duo ushered people toward the shelter.
“Jake! Any idea what’s going on?” Kate called out.
“Something about a blast in Portland,” he replied.
“Good Lord,” she said.
Kate pushed onward. The scenario felt all too familiar, harkening back to those days when Beckham and Horn were off on some mission and disaster struck at home. Every time the Variants or ROT had attacked, it felt like it could be the end of her time here on Earth.
But this time, with the girls and Javier by her side, she felt they had so much more to lose. They continued down the road in an orderly fashion until the distant pop of gunfire shattered the night. Jenny shrieked, and Javier pulled on Kate’s elbow, turning to look toward Portland, Maine.
Another distant explosion bloomed into the night.
The sight of the fireball chilled Kate to her core.
“Run!” someone yelled.
Screams came from all directions and, for the first time in years, the peace on Peaks Island was washed away like a sand castle under the rising tide.
— 5 —
Voices chimed outside of Ringgold’s office in the PEOC. Military officers conferred in trenchant whispers and gruff c
ommands.
“Turkey River isn’t the only outpost that has gone dark,” said President Ringgold. The tremor in her voice caught Beckham off guard almost as much as the news.
“Who else was hit?” Horn asked before Beckham could speak.
Ringgold tapped on one of the monitors on the conference room table, pointing at an old map of the United States. “Outpost Rapid City, South Dakota just went offline and we had almost zero communications before we lost contact.”
“That’s right on the border of the frontier with the west,” Horn said.
Beckham narrowed his eyes at the President. This had to be some sort of a sick joke or perhaps a glitch in communications.
How could two outposts simply go dark?
He thought of their families on Peaks Island. A tingle of worry threaded through his nerves. He simply didn’t want to believe that these outposts going dark was because of something widespread.
Something nefarious.
“We’re not sure what’s happening out there,” Ringgold said.
She let out an uncharacteristic sigh and then stiffened. Beckham watched her come back to life, seeming to summon the strength that had gotten her through years of hardship, battles, and war.
“I’ll meet you two in the situation room, shortly,” she said. “I need to make some calls.”
Beckham and Horn both filed into the small conference room in the PEOC. Of all the places in the world, Beckham never thought he would end up in the situation room again.
The white walls were covered with the pictures of former Presidents and a large American flag. This place was normally occupied by Four Star Generals, the Joint Chiefs, POTUS, VPOTUS, the NSA advisor, and the executive cabinet.
Now it was close to empty.
Brigadier General Lucas Barnes was hunched over a laptop near the head of the table, squinting at the screen, his glasses propped up in his gray hair. He glanced up with dark brown eyes that matched the color of his skin and nodded at Beckham. The sixty-year-old General was overseeing the mission to Outpost Turkey River and was in constant communication with General Noah Souza, the Commander of the Special Operations Command (SOCOM).
Extinction Cycle: Dark Age Box Set | Books 1-4 Page 6
