“Open fire!” Fitz yelled.
Rounds lanced into the Alpha’s flesh. It let out a screech as it dragged itself toward the loadmaster, blood spraying out of the bullet holes. Despite the storm of gunfire, it lifted a claw into the air, ready to slash down across the loadmaster’s chest.
Dohi aimed for the creature’s face and fired a burst, shattering bone. Blood gurgled out of the beast’s nostrils and mouth, and it finally collapsed.
“Osprey incoming!” Forster yelled. “Ghost, get ready!”
The aircraft came into view, lights glowing from the fuselage. It made a vertical descent toward them, the rear ramp already opening to allow a quick getaway.
Smaller beasts began climbing from the hole the Alpha had broken through. Their joints clicked, and their teeth gnashed together. Everything blurred around Dohi as Team Ghost sent a fusillade of rounds tearing into their ranks.
This was not the only hole that had opened up behind the defensive lines.
Others appeared across the airfield, swallowing asphalt and even people rushing to new positions. Alphas emerged from the earthen craters, shaking off dirt from the long tendrils snaking over their bodies. Legions of armored juvenile Variants followed behind them.
A loud thump sounded as the Osprey’s wheels touched down.
“Good luck, Ghost! Kill that motherfucker for all of us!” Forster roared.
The loadmasters and Ghost rushed onto the aircraft, carrying their supplies. A pair of crew chiefs helped throw the ammo cans onto the deck. The activity attracted the Variants like bugs to a light.
Even with the gunfire resounding from other units scattered around the airfield, the beasts were almost within striking distance. Forster fired his M17 into two of the monsters that came bounding on all fours. His guards continued to flank him, their rifles blazing to keep the monsters at bay and buy Ghost time.
One of the loadmasters ran back to the stack of supplies for another crate. Before he made it, a lunging Variant tackled him and sunk its claws between his ribs.
Dohi killed the beast, firing from within the Osprey, but the damage was done. The loadmaster took a final breath before going limp.
The other man hefted on a final ammo can. As soon as he did, a Variant wrapped its claws around him, pulling him backward.
“No!” Dohi yelled. He tried to get a shot but it was too late. The beast sunk its teeth into the man’s neck and ripped out a chunk of flesh and artery. Blood sprayed across the interior of the Osprey.
The aircraft lifted off as a swarm of the beasts consumed the dying loadmasters while Forster and his men retreated. Team Ghost continued to fire at the advancing beasts from the troop hold next to a crew chief on a mounted M240.
Creatures threw themselves at the tiltrotor craft, raking their claws along the outside. Dohi trained his fire on the diseased beasts now surrounding the lieutenant and his two soldiers. One of the men went to change his magazine and was shredded by a pair of deadly claws.
Forster and the other two men disappeared under a wave of gray flesh.
Dohi choked out a breath, watching again from the sky while men died below. Once again, there was nothing he could do to save them. He couldn’t even end their misery with a bullet.
Fitz bowed his head, and Rico put a hand on his shoulder as they retreated into the Osprey with Ace. Mendez remained at the rear lift gate with the crew chief, raining fire into the hordes.
Dohi brought his rifle back up with a new magazine and joined them. He fired where he had last seen the three brave soldiers that had given their lives for Team Ghost.
“Incoming!” one of the pilots yelled.
Dohi spotted the cloud of smoke from a launched LAW rocket. With a lurch, the craft suddenly decelerated hard and then descended just enough for the rocket to careen overhead.
The rear ramp was almost closed as the pilot started to pull them back into the sky. But now they were within an arm’s distance of the monsters again.
A juvenile leapt and thrust itself through the gap between the rear ramp and the fuselage. It bristled with claws and flesh covered in tough armor. Slotted yellow eyes fixed on the crew chief as it let loose a screech and slammed into the man.
Wild gunfire in a space like this was far too risky, but Dohi refused to let another man die for them tonight. He drew his hatchet and slammed it into the armored skull. The monster crashed against the bulkhead.
Dohi ripped the blade out and brought it down again. Bone split, flesh peeled, and blood poured from the gaping skull wounds. It still managed to snap at him, and he brought the hatchet down again, and again, until he had opened up a red canyon in the skull.
Brain matter sloshed out over the deck.
“Ace, Rico, help him,” Fitz said.
The duo began tending to the crew chief’s lacerations. The man writhed on the deck. None of his wounds appeared fatal, but he was definitely hurting.
All things considered, he was lucky to be alive.
Team Ghost was just as lucky.
Dohi stepped back to a window for a view of command. The base had quickly transformed into a war zone, leaving the soldiers in the path of the monsters.
Through a window, Dohi saw the flicker of dozens of rifles around command.
One by one, the glimmer of muzzle flashes disappeared.
A few sparks of gunfire cut out from a final guard tower, but it too vanished in a bright explosion from a LAW rocket. The resulting fireball illuminated a landscape covered in crumpled bodies.
Variants stormed the base, skittering up the main building and consuming the final defenses like an angry colony of ants.
Dohi tried to comfort himself with more words that his grandfather had passed onto him from their tribe.
There is no death, only a change of worlds.
But from what Dohi had seen in the tunnels, from what he had seen down there, he could not find solace in those souls “changing worlds” when the transition looked so terrifyingly horrible.
Accompanied by the collaborators, the horde of monsters had easily overrun the final defenses of the base and consumed the command building.
“Lord have Mercy on their souls,” Ace said.
“They didn’t stand a chance,” Rico said.
“I hope their sacrifice was worth it,” Mendez said.
“That depends on us now,” Fitz replied. “I just hope the other outposts and bases fare better than this one did.”
— 10 —
Fischer never got the opportunity to share a drink with Tran and Chase in Galveston. Instead, they were already on their way to work to Outpost El Paso in a C-23 Sherpa with Sergeant Sharp and a few of Cornelius’ soldiers. The propellers buzzed as they began their descent.
Coming in at the dead of night, Fischer was thankful he had grabbed a couple hours of shuteye on the flight. He had a feeling he was going to need it with this new mission. General Cornelius had given him no easy task.
Moonlight illuminated the craggy Texas landscape, nearly silhouetting the Franklin mountains overlooking the Briggs Army Airfield within the outpost.
“Almost there,” Sharp said. He rotated for a better view, his new blue armband showing.
Fischer valued loyalty. Chase and Tran had proven their fealty to him time and again. Usually he would be skeptical of a man like Sharp who so quickly abandoned his post to join another’s army. But as the Sherpa’s wheels touched down on the runway, he couldn’t blame the sergeant for joining up with Cornelius.
The retired general knew how to get things done and might be one of the best hopes the Allied States had of surviving the Variants.
The plane’s prop engines wound down, and it taxied to a stop. As soon as the side door opened, the chilling night air flooded the plane’s interior. Fischer stood, following Sharp and the soldiers out.
A large man in military fatigues waited on the tarmac.
“Welcome to El Paso,” he said in a gravelly voice.
The soldier offered a hand to F
ischer as he spoke with a strong northwest Texas drawl that might’ve been shared by one of Fischer’s neighbors.
“Pleased to have y’all here. I’m Lieutenant Riggs, in charge of organizing defensive operations. Born and bred right here in El Paso.”
“Good to meet a fellow local,” Fischer said.
“I know the city and the land around it like the back of my hand. Still, I can’t tell you how glad we are to have your boys working with us.”
“Honored to help with the war efforts,” Fischer said. “Anything I can do to kill some Variants is all right by me. Have my men already setup the prospecting equipment?”
“Yes, sir. Follow me.” Riggs motioned to a pair of Humvees idling near the airstrip.
The two-vehicle convoy took off, racing away from the airfield. They passed through darkened city streets; their headlights illuminated craters in the ground. Those craters looked like Variant tunnels that had recently been filled in. Scree piled up next to broken adobe houses, and bullet-hole pocked cars lined many of the streets.
“We took a beating last night,” Riggs said without turning.
“We did too,” Fischer said. “Lost a lot of good men myself.”
“Cornelius warned me you didn’t have enough to adequately outfit these trucks. But he promised you’d make do. Seems like your men have done just that.”
Spotlights from guard towers probed the darkness. Banks of floodlights hooked up to rumbling diesel generators provided a wall of light over the huge concrete ramparts topped with razor wire looping around the outpost.
“We’re headed straight into Variant country at the foot of the mountains,” Riggs said.
“With all these tunnels, seems to me like everything’s become Variant country now,” Fischer said.
“If this works tonight, we can start reclaiming what’s rightfully ours.” Riggs held up his radio. “Bravo 1, Echo 1 actual. We’re approaching the gate now.”
The radio crackled with a reply. “Copy, Echo 1. You’re clear to proceed. Good luck out there.”
A huge steel gate rolled back with the assistance of a growling motor. Heavily armed guards stood outside the entrance.
“Lost about a quarter of our men last night,” Riggs said.
“But no contacts yet tonight?” Tran asked.
“Not out here,” Riggs replied. “As late as 1800 we were still dealing with a few stragglers that hadn’t retreated. They were mostly hanging around the mountains.”
“How are the other outposts faring?” Chase asked.
“We’re receiving reports the Variants have launched attacks,” Riggs said. “Size and scope vary, but safe to say, if that’s any indication, we’ve got to be ready for anything. This will be the ultimate testing ground for the equipment.”
“From the sounds of it, we don’t have time for testing and we need to get this tech deployed around the outposts ASAP,” Chase said.
“Ain’t that the truth.” Riggs rubbed the stubble on his cheek. “Got to prove it works though, and to do that, we got to go where the beasts are.”
“Trial by fire,” Fischer said.
A rooster tail of dirt kicked up from the first vehicle as it tore over the dusty terrain beyond the walls. The Humvee bucked as they rumbled off-road and the headlights captured dried tumbleweeds and prickly cacti.
Farther ahead a series of mobile light posts had been setup. Beside them was a truck that looked like a militarized RV with long arrays of netted cables stretching across the ground.
“Ah, the geophone truck,” Fischer said.
While most of the netted cables stretched into the darkness, he knew sensors were scattered along them, capable of picking up vibrating seismic waves coursing through the ground.
Five men were already stationed around the vehicle with weapons, patrolling the rock-strewn landscape. A machine gunner lay prone atop the truck.
The two Humvees filed in next to the mobile unit. Fischer opened the door to let himself out. Tran and Chase trailed him into the rocky landscape with Riggs.
“We’ve also got scouts posted with NVGs and thermal binos around each of the trucks,” Riggs said.
He gestured to another three trucks scattered in the distance, each with their own set of floodlights. They appeared to be a cross between a lunar buggy and a Soviet-style Katyusha multiple rocket launcher truck. Those were the vibroseis trucks, each equipped with a large piston-driven shaker capable of generating seismic waves.
“You think one squad per truck is going to be enough to protect them when those monsters attack?” Fischer asked.
“It’ll have to be,” Riggs said. “We can’t divert more manpower from base given the reports of attacks elsewhere.”
“Seems pretty risky for valuable equipment like this,” Chase said, eyes narrowed. “Especially if you’re expecting an attack.”
“Worst case, we call in air support and hightail it out,” Riggs said. “I’d rather lose equipment than men. It’s not ideal, but it’s what we’ve got to work with.”
“Then let’s not waste any time huffing about it,” Fischer said. He set off for the geophone truck, spotting familiar faces working at the instruments inside the back cabin. He raised a hand in greeting, and they waved back.
Green screens glowed in front of each. Soon those monitors would come to life when the thumper trucks activated, generating vibrations deep into the ground.
Depending on how those seismic waves bounced toward the geophone truck’s sensors, the engineers could identify the density of rock and earth beneath their feet. That meant it could also detect the hollow cavities where there was no rock. Exactly the kind of signal they expected from tunnels dug by the Variants.
“If we can prove this system works, then we can save a lot of lives by tracking Variant tunnels before they burrow under our walls,” Riggs said.
“And when we detect burrowing Variants, I’m assuming you have the means to deal with them?” Fischer asked.
Riggs cracked a cocky grin. “We’ve had the past few decades to perfect bunker-busting bombs. You sure as hell bet that if we find the monsters underground, we can blow them sky high.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Tran said.
Fischer grabbed a metal bar on the back of the geophone truck and hoisted himself into the open back door. He slid in beside the two engineers, and Riggs climbed in with him. Sharp, Tran, Chase, and the others formed a perimeter around the vehicle to reinforce the meager security forces.
“Good to see you all made it out here safely,” Fischer said to the engineers.
“Likewise. We’re glad to have you with us, sir,” the nearest engineer said, a portly man in his early fifties with a crown of graying hair. “Everything is ready to go when you are.”
“Time’s already ticking by, so tell the thumpers to start pounding ground.”
“Yes, sir,” the engineer said. He relayed Fischer’s commands to the other trucks, and the burble of their engines echoed over the bleak landscape. Each time the thumpers slammed against the ground, Fischer could feel the tremor pass up through the geophone truck and into his bones.
“Strange sensation,” Riggs said. “I feel like a T-Rex is running at us.”
The thumping continued as if the trucks were playing the Earth like a bass drum. Fischer looked over the engineers’ shoulders, watching the resulting signals passing to the geophone truck.
“What can you see?” Riggs asked, squinting at the screens.
“Sure ain’t any oil down here,” Fischer said. “No natural gas deposits, if I’m reading it right.”
“Yes, sir,” the graying engineer said. “Nothing so far. No aberrations to indicate tunnels.”
“Better not be,” Riggs said. “We collapsed the ones we found earlier. Took more effort than I’d like to admit since we relied solely on the holes the Alphas left behind. If Variants are coming back to attack El Paso tonight, they’ll still have to pass back this way.”
“Your men did a damn fin
e job then—” Fisher stopped, spotting something on the screen.
Lines bounced around, indicating varying depths and densities of the ground. One of those lines had suddenly dropped. That meant there was a void there. A sure sign of a natural gas deposit if it had been hundreds of feet deeper.
But at only a few feet beneath the earth’s surface, he knew better.
“Is that one of them?” Fischer asked.
“It’s an anomaly, certainly,” the engineer said. “But there are also a few small caverns around these parts. Nothing unusual.”
The thumper trucks continued sending seismic waves coursing through the Earth. Fischer blinked at the lines zig-zagging across the engineers’ screens. The shapes became mesmerizing, almost hypnotic as the engineers surveyed the land.
He thought he heard a howl break through the night air. But the diesel engines and thumping from the machines made it difficult to tell whether it was real or not. He looked around at the others. Their attention remained on the screens.
Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. His exhaustion was getting the better of him, like it did in the tunnels back under his fields. He could still hear his wife’s voice now, warning him danger was at hand.
“Keep an eye on that so-called cavern,” Fischer said.
Their efforts continued for another thirty minutes as they identified potential sites to investigate, but nothing that leapt out as Variant activity.
Then the first engineer leaned back, mouth open, his fingers frozen at his keyboard. “Sir, the anomaly. It’s growing… and… and it’s headed straight toward us.”
Riggs started barking orders into his radio, telling his men to be on alert.
“We’ve detected the formation of what looks like five tunnels in total. The Variants must be burrowing as we speak.”
Fischer turned to Riggs. “We got the tunnel locations you wanted. Now how about sending them all to a fiery hell like you promised?”
“You give me the coordinates, I’ll send the bombs,” Riggs said.
Extinction Cycle: Dark Age Box Set | Books 1-4 Page 43
