Extinction Cycle: Dark Age Box Set | Books 1-4

by Smith, Nicholas Sansbury

Fischer leaned down to look with Beckham and Presley.

  At first glance, Fischer didn’t see anything. That wasn’t entirely surprising. The beasts were probably camouflaged.

  The officer that had brought up the live feed used a finger to point at the hilltop. There the weeds moved back and forth, and Fischer glimpsed a flash of gray armored flesh.

  “They’ve just been sitting there for the past hour,” she said. “And we’ve picked up more units like this at two other locations.”

  She went to a mobile board with a map of the outpost. Using a pen, she noted spots on all sides of the perimeter.

  “We’re being surrounded,” Presley said.

  Beckham stiffened and wiped sweat from his brow. “They’re definitely scoping out the defenses.”

  Fischer had personal experience with the depths of their organized intellect but this was on an entirely new level.

  “Colonel, we have more movement,” said another officer. The man walked over with a handset. “Just got word some of the juvies are taking off.”

  “Follow them with a drone or a recon team… your best team,” Beckham said. “We need to know where they’re going. If we can, then we locate the horde or hive, or whatever is out there.”

  Presley acted slightly annoyed by what sounded like orders, but he agreed and nodded at the officer with the handset.

  “Anything else I should know?” Beckham asked. “I’d like to personally make sure my family is safe before shit hits the fan.”

  “No, Captain, thank you,” Presley said.

  “Keep me updated on things, please.”

  “Of course, I’ll get you a radio before we have someone drive you back to the building so you don’t find yourself waiting again.” Presley looked Beckham in the eye. “Sorry about what happened outside the lab; it was a misunderstanding.”

  Beckham nodded and left the tent.

  “Thanks for the updates,” Fischer said. He followed Beckham and joined his men outside, feeling completely useless. Waiting on Team Ghost and the SDS equipment was really starting to make his visit here a drag. He hoped whatever was taking Ghost so long would be resolved soon.

  “Mr. Fischer, I’d suggest going to one of those shelters, if you want a ride,” Beckham said. He walked toward a pickup truck where a soldier waited.

  “I have a feeling tonight is going to be a long one,” Beckham added.

  Fischer tipped his leather hat. “I appreciate the advice, Captain. But I’m not the kind of buck that goes scampering at the first sign of danger.”

  “Suit yourself,” Beckham said. He got inside the truck and the driver pulled away.

  Fischer watched him go, hoping the Captain was wrong. One thing was certain, Fischer wasn’t going to cower in some shelter.

  He was done hiding a long time ago.

  — 18 —

  Timothy sat quietly in an exam room that looked like it had been pulled straight from the doctor’s office he used to visit as a kid. It was even furnished with a table that had bedding on it.

  But there weren’t serene pictures of mountains or rivers on the walls. The only decoration was a banner hanging over the closed door with a misshapen skull. The same banner he had seen in the briefing room.

  Alfred had brought him here and told him to get into the green scrubs he wore now. According to the tag, the scrubs were supposed to be size medium. A size that had once fit snugly on Timothy’s frame. Now it hung as loose as a sail.

  His stomach growled. He was hungry again.

  No… he was starving.

  He had hardly eaten in the past few days.

  Food wasn’t the only thing on his mind. He had sat there for hours with nothing to do but worry and try to figure out why the hell they had brought him down here. Thoughts of his father, of Tasha, and all the people back in Portland haunted his mind. He tried to conjure happy memories, anything to assuage the ball of dread growing in his stomach, but he failed every time.

  All he could do was stare at that strange skull on the banner.

  Now he was more sure than ever that he knew what it was.

  The thing was a damn Variant. It had to be, and it made sense after his conversation with Nick. The man had sold his soul to the monsters. Everyone down here had.

  While he had figured that much out, there was still so much that didn’t make sense.

  Normally, at least from what he had heard, collaborators worked for the monsters. But the ones here controlled them. The shock collar… the concerted attacks…

  Timothy didn’t see how that could be possible. There had to be something he was missing. The collaborators his dad had told him about worked for powerful Alpha Variants. Monsters that were both twisted and intelligent in their own strange ways. Maybe there was an even more intelligent Variant out there working with the collaborators now.

  Some beast that Nick, Alfred, and Pete had sworn loyalty to.

  Timothy grew more anxious as he waited for the men to return. He got off the table and walked over to the door, trying the knob. It twisted, but a click confirmed it was still locked from the outside.

  Was this some kind of test? Were they watching him through a hidden camera, seeing if he was smart enough to escape—or loyal enough to listen?

  He glanced at the banner again as he stood in front of the door. These men must have some awfully good reasons to swear fealty to monsters that wanted to kill so many people. Or maybe everyone down here was just batshit insane.

  But there was an even bigger question that Timothy couldn’t bury. One that emerged from the emotions roiling in his chest.

  A question he wondered every time he looked at Nick, Alfred, and Pete.

  Had they been there the night his father died on Peaks Island? Had one of them pulled the trigger?

  In time, he would know. That was what mattered most. Once he figured that out, he would happily return the favor and put a bullet in that man’s brain, then everyone else loyal to the monsters.

  He returned to the table, fists clenched. Maybe they were watching him. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of going nuts.

  Taking long, deep breaths, he tried to force himself to remain calm. But the longer he sat there, the more he boiled over, until he found himself pressing his fingers into his palms with his filthy overgrown nails.

  You’re going to get yourself killed, he thought to himself.

  The only way he was going to get revenge was if he played it cool. If he did that, then he had a chance to bring down this entire shadowy organization.

  Watch, listen, learn.

  The words his dad had taught him echoed in his mind.

  Timothy let his hands relax and closed his eyes, counting to ten.

  When he hit ten, he took a deep breath, then counted to ten again. Over and over, a silent meditation. He tried to think of good thoughts. Like what it had been like to be back on Peaks Island. The trees and water surrounding him. Being able to spend time with Tasha, running off together with their friends to go hiking and explore the landscape, spending long nights on the shores.

  He had no idea how much time had passed when the door finally clicked and slowly creaked open. Timothy tensed, sitting as straight as he could.

  A balding doctor, maybe fifty years of age, walked into the room wearing a white lab coat and holding a clipboard. Behind him, two bearded men wearing fatigues stood guard with machine guns.

  They remained in the hallway, and the doctor kept the door open.

  “State your full name,” he said.

  His eyes may as well have been pools of darkness, not the kind that Timothy remembered on his doctor at home. This man had seen too much death.

  “Your full name,” the doctor entreated.

  “Timothy Lance,” he lied.

  The doctor looked down at his clipboard and scribbled something onto the paper. Then he moved over toward the table.

  Timothy flinched when he reached out for him.

  “Relax. I’m going to do some basic te
sts to make sure you’re healthy.”

  Timothy wasn’t sure if he believed that, but he decided it didn’t matter. The two guys with machine guns in the hall gave him no choice but to obey.

  For the next thirty minutes, Timothy endured many of the same tests he remembered from his normal physicals with his physician. The doctor took his blood pressure, listened to his heart and lungs. He even made him stick his tongue out, using a wooden depressor to see the back of his throat.

  When he finished, he scribbled some more on his clipboard and left without saying another word, closing the door behind him.

  Timothy tried to relax on the cold seat. All he could do was wonder what the hell all that had been about.

  When the door opened again, the doctor returned and gestured for Timothy to follow him into the hall.

  The two guards accompanied them down the narrow passage with a tiled floor and white walls. The air carried a sterile smell, like a laboratory.

  They took a right at an intersection and entered a hall with glass windows. More armed guards stood outside a set of doors with biohazard signs.

  On the other side of the glass windows, scientists in bulky hazmat suits worked inside an open laboratory with metal tables. Several of the workers surrounded a clear plastic container with some sort of rodent inside.

  Timothy slowed to get a better view.

  “Move it,” said one of the escort guards.

  They passed another lab where a monkey with bandaged legs screeched inside a cage, rattling the bars with its hands while a scientist watched.

  What the hell were they doing down here?

  His mind raced…

  He had assumed they were checking his health, like the doctor said. Now he wondered if he was about to become a test subject.

  They continued past more labs, but these were empty and dark inside.

  Not completely dark, Timothy realized.

  He stopped, squinting to try and make out what looked like glowing eyes. The eyes belonged to a bulky animal that trotted on four legs, moving toward the window.

  “What in God’s…” Timothy whispered.

  The doctor turned and walked back to Timothy while one of the guards laughed.

  “You aren’t afraid of dogs, are you?” he asked.

  This was no dog inside the dark room. Not anymore. The beast was a monster with thick muscles and a spiky back. Veins bulged from light brown skin.

  “Let’s go,” said the other guard. He elbowed Timothy hard in the back, pushing him forward. They didn’t stop again until they got to another wing of labs. The doctor stopped at a door and opened it with the flash of a keycard.

  “Come with me,” he said to Timothy.

  They walked into a white laboratory, the guards staying outside.

  At the center of the room was a single person in a white coat. He had his back turned and was working on something on a metal cart next to a chair with leather straps.

  Timothy’s eyes turned to the cart, inspiring a pang of nausea. On the top sat two long needles, a black collar, and an open tool kit.

  “Sir, I’ve brought the recruit,” said the doctor.

  “Ah, Timothy,” said a familiar voice, as the man in the white coat turned.

  Dread snaked its way through Timothy’s insides.

  It was Nick.

  “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing toward a chair.

  Timothy hesitated at the sight of the open leather straps on the arm rests.

  “What are you going to do?” Timothy asked. He shivered, unable to hold back his fear or his thoughts. “You going to turn me into one of those creatures?”

  “Wow, you must really think I’m the monster, huh?”

  Timothy didn’t reply, and Nick followed his gaze to the metal cart with the tools and the needles.

  “Oh, those…” Nick said. “Well, you didn’t think we were going to induct you into our army without some insurance, did you?”

  He laughed.

  The doctor picked up the collar.

  “We didn’t live in the shadows all this time because we’re stupid,” Nick said. “We’ve planned every move.”

  “You’ll wear this until you can be trusted,” the doctor said.

  “Now have a seat,” Nick said, his voice deeper.

  Timothy did as instructed. His mind whirled trying to figure a way out of this. But he came up with nothing. The doctor walked around the chair and started tightening the leather straps around his arms and legs.

  “This one’s a healthy young man,” he said.

  Nick nodded and patted Timothy on the shoulder. “That’s good, because you, my friend, are going to be very important to our master. I’ve been told he has special plans for you.”

  “Master?” Timothy asked.

  “In time, you’ll learn more,” Nick said. He grabbed a syringe with a long needle and held it up toward a light.

  Timothy recoiled.

  “Don’t worry.” Nick flicked the syringe, loosening a couple bubbles. “I didn’t just lie about my family being dead. I also lied about being a dentist. I was actually a lab technician. Something that’s come in very handy for our plans.”

  Timothy swallowed hard, wondering what else Nick had lied about.

  There was one thing he knew for sure.

  The collaborators were far better organized than anyone on the outside had imagined.

  Nick stuck him in the arm with the needle, and a wave of heat rushed through his veins. Then came a feeling of cool relief and exhaustion.

  Timothy tried to keep his eyelids open, but they grew heavier by the second. His vision started to blur as he watched the two men prepare the collar and what looked like a small microchip.

  Any illusions he had about escaping vanished.

  As he drifted off, he thought of his dad. He knew in his heart that his father would have wanted him to forget about revenge and focus on stopping whatever these men had planned.

  You are the only one that can stop them now, he heard his father say. I trained you for this.

  And then there was only darkness.

  ***

  “I’m moving the kids to a shelter just in case,” Beckham said through the intercom.

  Kate stood on the other side of a glass window in the laboratory trying to make sense of what he had just told her about the juvenile scouts. She was alone in an antechamber to the larger lab, trying to keep calm.

  All of a sudden, she felt trapped, like the mastermind in the main chamber. And the thought of Javier and the kids hiding in a basement shelter in a place she told them would be safe sent a pang of regret through her.

  “Don’t worry, Kate,” Beckham said as if he could read her thoughts. “Horn and I’ll make sure the kids are okay. You just focus on your work.”

  “I’m trying but…”

  “Really, everything will be fine, I promise.”

  She wanted to believe that, but if the Variants really knew the mastermind was here, there would be hell to pay. Her husband helped make her feel a little better, but still there was the burning question about the juveniles and how they would have known the beast had been brought here.

  They hadn’t connected the creature to the external webbing network, and the top-secret landing during the dead of night had only been known by the science team and trusted military members.

  She hit the intercom button. “Do you think Colonel Presley has taken care of any collaborators here?”

  “The colonel is confident we have nothing to fear.”

  “But you aren’t.”

  Beckham hesitated. “No, I’m not.”

  Sammy entered the room behind her and said, “Doctor Lovato, we need you back in the lab.”

  “Just a moment,” Kate said.

  Sammy nodded and exited back to the main lab.

  “Go,” Beckham said. “I’ll take care of things. The kids, collaborators. I can handle it.”

  She looked at the clock. It was seven thirty-five.

 
; “I still plan on taking my break to see you all if I can,” she said.

  He put a hand on the glass and she matched it with her gloved hand.

  Kate returned to the lab, trying to manage her heartbeat. She was shaken up by the news that juvenile scouts had been spotted around the outpost, but decided to keep it to herself for now. Saying anything could throw off her team, and she trusted they would be alerted if it was absolutely necessary, by staff or by her husband.

  Focus, Kate, you have to focus.

  She and Carr had to unravel the mystery of the mastermind network. There was no room for failure. As soon as she reentered the chamber, she spotted Carr hunched over a lab table. By him was Sammy and another computer engineer engrossed in their work.

  All around, she noticed the same determination in the other scientists, engineers, and lab technicians. Dressed in white cleanroom suits and masks, they worked hurriedly at the banks of computer terminals and filtered between the huge iron columns in the center of the three-story room. Others carted supplies and samples to different lab benches.

  The twenty-person team was a significant upgrade from when it was just her and Dr. Pat Ellis in the early days of the war. But while she had not grown as close to Dr. Carr as she had been with Ellis, at least she respected the man’s work and drive. It would be people like him, intelligent and steadfast, that enabled them to survive the coming days and weeks, the crucial tipping point of the war that they were currently losing.

  Kate crossed the lab to Doctor Carr and Sammy, navigating the maze of lab stations and bustling staff.

  While she had grown accustomed to working with this large group and this enormous space, there was one thing she would never get used to. The constant odor of rot and sour trash that her bunny suit couldn’t mitigate.

  The beast responsible for that smell lumbered in the middle of the room like a huge lump of crumpled red tissue. Snores that sounded like horrifying growls echoed through the room.

  Long red tendrils, some as thick as anchor chains and others as thin as spaghetti, hung off the creature. Those were the remnants of the webbing network that had secured the monster to the cathedral back in New Orleans. Steel chains held it in place, attached to iron columns stretching from floor to ceiling.