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

by Smith, Nicholas Sansbury

  “You don’t have to do this,” Kate said. “I’m fine, really.”

  “You can’t be the only one,” Leslie said. “Someone else needs to learn how to communicate with the network like you do.”

  Kate wasn’t sure what the long-term ramifications of connecting to the network like this were, but inwardly, she was glad Leslie had offered to help. All she knew was that each time she did, electricity seemed to pour through the vines of tissue and into her. From her basic studies, the tendrils acted like electrodes against the skin, reading signals passed between her nerves and sending electric signals back into her tissue as feedback.

  “When I’ve learned, we can teach Ron, too,” Leslie said. “That way we all share the burden.”

  Ron looked to the side as if he wasn’t sure about that.

  “It’s okay,” Leslie said with a smile.

  Kate couldn’t help feeling protective over the slightly younger lab tech.

  “When you’re ready,” Sammy said, “I can initiate the connection.”

  “Let’s do it,” Leslie said.

  Sammy pressed a button on her keyboard, and the tendril went wild, adhering to the back of Leslie’s neck. Leslie’s eyes closed, and her face set in a grimace.

  “Is she okay?” Kate asked.

  Sammy nodded. “This is exactly what happens to you each time we—”

  Voices echoed down into the parking garage, and a few of the soldiers standing on guard perked, shouldering their rifles.

  Kate walked over to one of the guards. “What’s going on?”

  One of the soldiers on guard put his radio to his ear. “Sounds like Captain Beckham and the scout teams are back. They took some casualties.”

  “Is Reed okay? Did they say Captain Beckham was hurt?”

  “I, uh, don’t—”

  Kate looked back to Sammy and Ron. “Take care of Leslie.”

  “Wait, Doctor Lovato!” the soldier said running after her.

  Kate took the stairs two at a time with the guard following. She didn’t stop until she got to the hospital. Combat medics ran down the hall with soldiers on stretchers. Voices called out orders and requests for help.

  Ruckley and Timothy were the first familiar faces she saw. They were helping another soldier whose wrist was covered in bandages. A fourth soldier Kate didn’t recognize was with them.

  Timothy caught her eyes as he helped his teammate into a chair where medics began examining his wounds.

  “Beckham’s all right,” Timothy called to her. “Horn, too. They’re just behind us.”

  Kate didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until she saw Beckham, Horn, and Rico enter a few seconds later with a prisoner. An entire phalanx of soldiers surrounded them, and she quickly saw why.

  The prisoner wasn’t a collaborator—it was a Chimera.

  Beckham limped away from the group when he saw Kate. He was covered in grime, smelling of sweat and blood, but she didn’t care. They met in a long embrace.

  Horn joined them, wiping his face with the back of his big hand.

  “How bad is it?” Kate asked.

  “Six of ours dead, and three injured,” Beckham said.

  “How?” Kate asked.

  “They set a trap,” Beckham said, shaking his head.

  “I don’t understand,” Kate said. “We haven’t intercepted any messages that they were planning an attack on Houston.”

  “That’s why we brought him here.”

  Kate watched as the soldiers led the creature into a room and shut the door.

  “Rico, call Jacobs and tell him we’ve got the prisoner secure,” Beckham said. “I want to have a talk with the bastard while we wait to see what Jacobs wants to do with him.”

  “I was hoping you’d let me be part of this ‘talk’,” Rico said, eyes narrowed.

  “Me, too,” Horn said. His barreled chest expanded as he took in a deep breath. “A talk he won’t forget.”

  “Go tell Jacobs we’ve got him first,” Beckham said.

  Rico left, and Beckham started toward the room where they had the beast secured.

  “Wait,” Kate said. “I want to watch.”

  “It’s not safe, Kate,” Horn said.

  “I need to know more about these creatures,” Kate said. “Besides, there’s just one of him and plenty of us.”

  Beckham and Horn exchanged a glance.

  “Fine,” Beckham said.

  They went into the room where three soldiers had bound the beast to a chair.

  The Chimera glared at them with his golden eyes, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. His muscles tensed across his scarred body. Flat slitted nostrils flared with each breath. The sour lemon scent of a Variant drifted off his sweaty flesh.

  Kate had to remind herself that this twisted body contained the brain of an intelligent being.

  “We’re going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to answer,” Beckham said. “Nod if you understand.”

  Surprisingly, the beast did just that.

  “What in the hell were you doing outside Houston?” Beckham asked.

  The Chimera said nothing, pressing his thin wormy lips tightly closed.

  “Hey, asshole, do you not understand English now?” Horn said.

  He reached into his vest and pulled out brass knuckles that he slipped over his fist.

  “Know what these are?” Horn asked. “I pulled ’em off a collaborator. They’ll make your ugly face even uglier.”

  “Why were you outside Houston?” Beckham entreated.

  The Chimera said nothing.

  Beckham nodded at Horn, and the big man let loose a haymaker of a punch that would have laid any normal man flat on his back. It connected with a sickening crunch that made Kate flinch, and she had to look away momentarily.

  When she faced the Chimera again, she saw him staring defiantly back up at Horn and Beckham. Blood gushed from the split above his eye.

  He hissed at them. “Why would I tell you anything?”

  “Depends on how much pain you can endure,” Horn said, shaking out his fist. “Because that was just a warning shot.”

  Beckham tried another question. “How many other groups are out there?”

  Again, the Chimera didn’t answer, and again Horn whacked the creature in the face.

  Kate cringed at the crack.

  The interrogation continued, but no matter how they tried to convince the half-man, half-monster to talk, he said nothing. The guards in the room watched with their rifles cradled.

  A knock on the door sounded, breaking Kate from her trance watching the beast, and she opened it. Commander Jacobs and Rico stepped inside with another four men.

  “I’ll take it from here,” Jacobs said. He nodded at his men.

  The soldiers started untying the ropes on the Chimera and placed heavy steel shackles over his limbs to prevent their prisoner from running. They prodded the Chimera to stand and forced him to shuffle toward the lobby door.

  Kate wasn’t sure what the commander planned to do with the Chimera, but she doubted he would have any better luck.

  “Wait a second, sir,” Kate said. “I have another way we can get some information from him.”

  Jacobs ordered his men taking the Chimera outside to pause. “What’s that, Doctor Lovato?”

  “He might not be willing to talk, but that won’t stop any analyses I can run on his tissue.”

  The Chimera glared at her with golden, inquisitive eyes.

  She decided to step into the hall to tell Jacobs her plan.

  “Sedate him and let me take a few biopsies,” Kate continued. “I can analyze his blood and other tissues to figure out how beasts like this came into existence.”

  Jacobs looked back at the door, then shrugged. “Make this quick.”

  Kate retreated to the lab that Jacobs had set up for them on the second floor of the hospital and returned with a handful of plastic vials and needles. The creature was already out from the sedatives when she returned,
but she still approached his scarred body cautiously.

  “Be ready for anything,” Beckham said to the soldiers standing guard.

  Six of the men surrounded the metal table, checking the straps around the creature’s legs and arms.

  Beckham and Horn flanked Kate as she slowly walked up to him with her biopsy needles. She had a mask on now, but she could still smell the awful scent. After she prepared the first needle, Horn cut off the Chimera’s coat and shirt, revealing his twisted body. She was amazed and sickened at the amount of work it must have taken to design such an abomination.

  Part of her couldn’t help but feel pity for this thing.

  She wondered if it was more man than monster. But that was a question for another time.

  When she found a good spot on the arm, she jabbed a biopsy needle into the flesh. Piece by piece, she took more tissue samples, depositing them into the plastic vials. Then she used another needle and tube for a blood sample. Finding an accessible vein was no problem with the beast’s vessels pushing up against his gray flesh.

  “That’s it,” she said when she finished the blood sample.

  “Good job,” Beckham said.

  “Gross shit,” Horn muttered.

  She took the samples back to the laboratory. They were just small hunks of flesh and muscle and blood, but it helped inspire newfound confidence. Not only were they now capable of tapping into the New Gods’ communications through the organic network, but she had the first usable samples of Chimera flesh.

  With these, she could unlock the secrets to the origins of these monsters. Maybe those revelations would even lead them to the Prophet she kept hearing about on the network.

  Either way, Kate was certain the small plastic vials with bits of gore she held now would only improve the Allied States’ chance of finally turning this war around before it was too late.

  “If it’s not already too late,” she whispered.

  — 6 —

  Early morning light permeated the dense cloud cover, giving the world a slightly gray glow. Cold still seeped through Fitz’s body. He fought the fatigue in his muscles and the biting cold. Thoughts of Rico helped him carry on.

  Hopefully Ghost would be sent south soon, and he could finally see her again.

  At least the snowfall had temporarily abated. The brightening sun helped him see the tracks of whoever had been following the river before them.

  Dohi examined the trail while Fitz surveyed the snow between the trees. It looked as if a couple platoons had marched through here. By the looks of the prints, they were human.

  “Jesus,” Ace said. “Who the hell are these guys?”

  “How many do you think we’re dealing with?” Fitz asked.

  “Thirty, maybe more,” Dohi replied coldly.

  They followed the tangled tracks to a clearing in the forest that led to a frozen lake already covered in snow. Once again Dohi was on point, but the footprints were deep enough to lead the way.

  Ace and Fitz followed close behind Dohi with Spearhead on the rearguard. They crossed so many intertwining trails that he figured they would have run into them by dumb luck, even if they hadn’t found the first set.

  Fitz motioned to Dohi to pick up the pace as they continued through the forest, following all the winding paths, until they reached the edge of a frozen lake. Mountains loomed beyond the lake, with pine trees covered in white, looking as if they were giant stalagmites.

  The trail they had been following continued over the snow-covered ice and straight toward the opposite side of the lake nearly a half-mile away. Fitz and his team remained in the shadows of the trees as they surveyed their quarry. He lifted his binos to where Dohi pointed.

  “My God,” Fitz whispered. “Looks like we found where those bears were going.”

  While most of the contacts were sheltered in the forest, he estimated at least sixty or seventy that he could see, all wearing white coats or camouflage and carrying weapons. They were too far for him to tell if they were Chimeras or collaborators.

  Between those soldiers, he saw another two dozen bears. They wore giant black collars, visible against their white fur. Not unlike the ones Fitz had heard the Thrall Variants had worn outside Outpost Portland.

  “They’ve come for Corrin, haven’t they?” Neilson asked.

  “Hell if we know,” Ace said. “Maybe they’re just pissed after Seattle.”

  Toussaint eyed them suspiciously. “Did they follow you from there?”

  “We flew,” Ace said. “How would they follow us?”

  “I’m sure they have their ways,” Daugherty said.

  “Or maybe this is the beginning of the invasion in the North,” Dohi said. “We warned the general about this.”

  “Doesn’t matter why they’re here,” Fitz said. “Neilson, we should call it in.”

  “I count twenty-five bears,” Dohi said. “Maybe seventy soldiers, but it looks like there are far more in the woods. It’s too hard to see from this far.”

  “These assholes came in right during the storm, right when we pulled our scouts back,” Daugherty said.

  Sherman leaned over to Neilson and Fitz, then pointed to a spot just north of the enemy. Groups of soldiers looked to be checking over their weapons. Others were lining up as if getting ready to march.

  A pit formed in his stomach. These people looked like they were preparing to move, and he feared he knew where they were headed.

  Neilson finished reporting the enemy count that Dohi had provided.

  “Spearhead One, can you repeat?” replied comms officer back at HQ.

  “Command, this is Ghost One. Hostiles are preparing to move. I repeat, preparing to move. You’ve got to prepare the defenses. Tell General Kamer immediately.”

  “Roger that, Ghost One.”

  “Let’s pick some of ’em off,” Sherman said. “We took out the bears. We can thin this herd, too.”

  “Son, you’re getting ahead of yourself,” Ace said. “We killed six bears. There’s damn near an extra twenty of those beasts over there, plus however many other assholes waiting in the woods.”

  “Want me to get closer for better numbers?” Dohi asked.

  “No,” Fitz said. “We stay here for a minute. I need to think.”

  The most direct path to get a better view was across the open expanse of the lake. Otherwise they would have to circle around, which Fitz estimated would take the better part of an hour or more to do without being seen.

  By then the enemy might already have started their attack. Fitz would rather be helping Banff survive than be stuck out here, half-buried in snow.

  “We’re better off going back to base,” Fitz said. “They’re going to need all the help they can get.”

  Somewhere across the lake, the roar of a bear shook over the ice. It was answered by several more of the bloodthirsty beasts.

  Maybe it was already too late.

  “Dohi, lead us back to base,” Fitz said.

  They began the trek southeast, jogging through the snow. They didn’t have time to cover their tracks with how quickly the snow was falling. Fitz merely hoped they made it to base before the enemy did.

  His breath plumed out in an icy mist as he ran.

  Every step strained his already agonized muscles. They had been tracking through the woods all night, and now even the adrenaline of seeing the enemy could not assuage the exhaustion seeping through his injured body, conspiring to slow their retreat.

  A gunshot suddenly cracked into the night, the sound ricocheting between the trees.

  Fitz dropped low instinctively, his rifle rising immediately. The others sheltered behind the trees. More shots exploded from somewhere to their east, bullets punching into the wood. Bark sprayed over Fitz.

  “Agh!” Sherman cried. He fell backward into the snow. Neilson began to crawl to him but more bullets tore into their position. Sherman jerked from the impacts, and the snow around him began to turn red.

  Fitz swung his rifle around toward t
he gunfire. Between the shadows of the snow-covered trees, he saw two men or Chimeras—he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was they had his team pinned down.

  “Dohi, cover me!” Fitz commanded.

  Dohi put down a blanket of suppressing fire and Fitz hobbled to a better position, a few yards out from his team. He had a clear line of sight now into the flanks of his enemy. Both were still focused on the Canadians.

  Fitz opened fire. The first soldier went down with a yelp of pain. The second started to turn, but Fitz caught him too. Blood sprayed from the man as bullets riddled his side and neck. His head flipped backward as he fell into the snow, and for the first time, Fitz saw the face of the scouts who had caught up to them.

  His targets were monsters, but they weren’t Chimeras. They were men. Collaborators.

  More gunfire rang out, somewhere just south of them. Fitz adjusted his aim and fired. Bullets pounded against the tree trunks where he spotted three more collaborators. They wore dingy gray and white clothes, a patchwork of military-issue uniforms and old fatigues that looked as though they had grabbed them from an apocalyptic thrift shop.

  One of them went down, but the other two ducked behind cover.

  Fitz couldn’t get a clean shot.

  “Ace, flank them!” he called out over the comm.

  Ace acknowledged the command with a curt affirmative.

  Fitz trained his rifle on the three collaborators and squeezed his trigger, letting out a long burst. That gave Ace just enough time to rush to a new position between the trees. He opened fire and caught all three collaborators unaware.

  They crumpled into the snow, steam rising off their still forms.

  “Clear!” Dohi yelled.

  “Clear!” Neilson replied.

  They had killed the last of the collaborator scouts, but the short battle felt nothing like a victory. Toussaint and Neilson knelt next to Sherman, checking his pulse as if by some miracle he might still be alive. The vacant stare told Fitz that Sherman was gone.

  Neilson started to lift Sherman with Toussaint’s help when a chorus of distant howls erupted into the night. There was no time to move the man.

  “Run!” Fitz yelled.

  ***

  The odor of death still lingered in Timothy’s nostrils from the brief battle in the Houston suburbs. Late-morning sunlight bathed the neighborhood. He had thought that after killing those Chimera scouts, his time outside the gates of Outpost Houston was done for the day. But he was wrong.