“We’ve got more incoming,” Cornelius said, pointing at the George Johnson.
While flames danced from the superstructure, a stream of smaller shapes flung themselves over the side into the water. Others raced down the ladders tracing the hull, leaping into rigid-hulled inflatable boats, lifeboats, and some of the other small craft nearby.
“There must be hundreds of creatures and collaborators on that ship,” Cornelius said.
Ringgold roved her binos over the enemy soldiers, spotting squads of heavily armed Chimeras with their cutlasses.
“Madam President, seismic activity indicates the rest of the New Gods’ land forces are poised to cross the bridge in less than two minutes,” the comms officer said. “Recon Sigma is on the bridge now.”
She turned her binos back to the bay. A lone Humvee raced across the long bridge. Only about five-hundred yards behind them, the first rush of monsters followed, galloping across the asphalt.
“Blow the bridges as soon as Sigma is across,” she said.
A moment later, explosions ripped down the bridge, red and orange balls of fire devouring the pillars holding it above the bay. Concrete gave way, falling in chunks, and almost as if in slow motion, the bridge began to collapse. Variants flailed as they plummeted with the debris.
Soprano rushed back up the stairs to the platform, chest heaving.
“You have good news?” Ringgold asked.
Souza and Cornelius both looked at Soprano.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The Canadian and Mexican forces are still hours from arrival. We’re on our own for now.”
Ringgold felt her stomach churn. The enemy had arrived by sea, air, and land. She had done everything she could to prepare, but still it felt like it was not enough. The only thing left to do was fight.
Raising her rifle to her shoulder, she readied herself for battle.
***
Gunfire cracked across Los Alamos.
Keeping low, Fitz advanced up a narrow street between two laboratory buildings, headed north with Team Ghost and a small army of Chimeras and humans. It had been hell fighting through the streets and doing their best to stay concealed from the few guards left around the base.
But they had unexpected help keeping the guards occupied.
While most of the prisoners had followed them, a few distrusting Chimeras and scared human prisoners had run off. Those fleeing prisoners were enough to draw many of the remaining enemy guards away. That distraction had helped Ghost, but it was a terrible choice for the prisoners.
Screams rang out, some of them human as the monsters found them.
“Should’ve stayed with us,” Fitz said.
“They chose their own deaths,” Dohi said.
Fitz tried to understand the callous words. This was not the Dohi he knew—the Dohi who would do anything to save another person. But Fitz understood how trauma and PTSD could turn a good heart black.
That kind of trauma could not be dealt with now. Instead he focused back on the mission and took shelter behind a truck to sneak a glimpse at an intersection to the east. A friendly Chimera had confirmed that just a few blocks in that direction was the command center for the New Gods.
Fitz surveyed the building. Camouflage netting covered two machine gun nests and maybe a little over ten Chimeras perched along the roof. Collaborators were entrenched behind sandbags and aiming out of windows.
Prowling Thrall Variants screeched and howled in the street. The smell of blood and sound of battle had them riled up. The only thing holding them back were the collars around their necks.
Fitz turned to his team, telling them what he had seen.
“We’ve got the numbers,” Dohi said. “Nearly thirty Fallen Chimeras still with us, and thirty human prisoners strong enough to fight.”
“But less than half have firearms,” Rico said.
Corrin clicked his claws together. “But we have weapons.”
“Still, it’s suicide running headlong into that command building,” Rico said.
Fitz listened between a few more distant gunshots and the rattle of machine guns.
“If we don’t do something quickly, they’ll finish off the last of the fleeing prisoners, then find us,” Fitz said. “The only reason we’re still alive is because they sent damn near everything they had to Galveston.”
All they needed to do was get to the Prophet, assuming he was even here. The command building was so close, but trying to sneak in with this army would not work.
Fitz signaled to the Chimera that had told them about the command center. The filthy half-man hunched down, reeking of body odor and festering wounds.
“The front western entrance to this place is well-guarded,” Fitz said. “What’s our best alternative?”
“There’s a couple of secured doors on the north and south sides,” the Chimera replied.
“Those machine guns will cut us down before we can get close enough to get inside,” Rico said.
“What about tunnels?” Fitz asked. “The throne room was covered in webbing. We know the network goes inside.”
The Chimera looked uncertain. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” Esparza said. She was the first prisoner Dohi had released and was the strongest of the freed humans. “They forced me down there a few days ago to find soldiers who could join their ranks.”
“Do you think you could get us to that tunnel?” Fitz asked.
Esparza nodded.
“We can’t fit everyone through like that,” Dohi said. “I’ve seen what happens to people in there. A little bit of panic, and they’ll run wild, get us all killed.”
“Let me lead the Chimeras,” Corrin said. “We can divide the forces. Humans with firearms can take the southern side of the building, and I will take my team to scale the walls on the north. That should give you enough distraction to sneak underground.”
Fitz was quiet for a moment, listening to the distant sounds of collaborators and Chimeras rounding up the other prisoners. He hated for so many to sacrifice their lives, but Corrin was right.
This was the most effective way to get inside.
“Let’s do it,” Fitz said. He signaled to another human prisoner who had been a ranking officer before being captured in Vegas and told him to lead the humans. They divided up their ragtag army and relayed their plans.
Fitz looked at Corrin one last time as the Chimera readied his forces. “Thank you, Corrin. You’ve done more than we ever could’ve asked.”
“It’s time to make the Prophet pay,” Corrin said. “Good luck, Master Sergeant Fitzpatrick, and to the rest of you.”
Dohi reached out toward him. Corrin didn’t seem to know what to do at first, but then he clenched Dohi’s hand carefully in his own.
“Good luck, brother,” Dohi said.
Corrin held his grip for a moment, then nodded and led his troops away.
At the same time, the human prisoners swarmed from their positions, cutting across the street and filtering between the other buildings. Those with weapons provided covering fire, allowing the army of liberated prisoners to spread out in combat intervals.
The Thrall monsters raced toward the human forces, and the machine guns behind them churned with the throat growl of automatic fire.
“Let’s move,” Fitz said.
Esparza took them back down the street, then cut across a block east toward an open road with three large holes. Red tendrils of webbing grew out of them. She pointed toward one, and they climbed inside a tunnel that reeked of carrion.
Dohi took point, leading them through the darkened tunnels with his NVGs. They advanced at a run, and the sounds of battle outside grew muffled the deeper they went. Fitz’s blades squished into the webbing and crunched over bones. They passed by dead humans and animals pasted on the walls.
Esparza directed them through a few intersections until they reached a hole leading to the surface.
“This is it,” she whispered.
Fitz approached ca
utiously. Thick stalks of red webbing stretched upward. Sickly yellow light glowed from above. The smell here was worse than anywhere else in the tunnels.
A few rumbling growls filtered in from the room above. Those were sounds Fitz was all too familiar with.
Masterminds.
From the floor of the tunnel, he could look straight up toward a ceiling covered in a spiderweb of red. This was definitely the auditorium they had seen on the video.
The sounds of the battle raged outside, reminding him of the sacrifices made so they could get here. They had to hurry. The lives of all those outside in Los Alamos and even those in Galveston depended on it.
He signaled for Esparza to back up, then beckoned Rico and Dohi. They all pulled M67 grenades from their tac vests and handed them to Dohi. He lobbed them up one by one through the hole into the throne room.
A few surprised raspy voices cried out, followed by three violent blasts. Chunks of webbing rained down into the tunnel.
“Go!” Fitz yelled.
Dohi took to the webbing and climbed up it with Esparza and Rico swinging themselves up after. Fitz was the last one up, entering the area between the stage and the seating. Smoke and the scent of burned flesh drifted through the air. Pieces of severed webbing squirmed across the floor.
Fitz searched through the dissipating smoke for targets. As it cleared, he spotted the two giant masterminds on the stage, bleeding from shrapnel wounds in the folds of their pink flesh. He turned to scan the seating area, seeing a few dead Chimeras sprawled around smoking sites where the chairs and webbing had been blown to scrap.
Other beasts closer to the back rows of webbing-covered chairs were recovering from the blasts. Two situated at the entrance of the room were already moving into firing positions.
Fitz signaled for Dohi to flank them from the auditorium’s north side while Rico and Esparza dropped down behind the seats. He popped up and shot one of the advancing Chimeras through its grotesque face.
Then all hell broke loose, gunfire punching into the seats.
Fitz ducked down and flattened his body. Using his elbows, he army-crawled to a new spot as bullets punched through the plastic seats behind him.
Webbing and broken bits of the chairs sprayed over his body. Esparza got up to fire from an adjacent row, giving Rico and Fitz time to find another position.
As soon as they were clear, Fitz gave Rico a nod. They rose to sight up their next targets, but the return gunfire had already stopped. A cry of agony roared across the enclosed space, and a final Chimera thumped to the ground near the entrance.
“Clear!” Dohi called.
Dohi stood over the last Chimera with blood dripping off his hatchet and knife. The team all turned to the stage where the two masterminds yanked on the webbing to call in reinforcements.
“Prophet isn’t here,” Dohi said.
“Come on, we have to move,” Fitz said.
Dohi led toward the doors, but they burst open before he could reach them. Four juveniles with collars around their necks lunged inside, growling and snapping.
One barreled toward Dohi. He stumbled backward and fell, giving Fitz and the rest of the team clear firing lanes.
“Covering fire!” Fitz shouted.
They unleashed a torrent of rounds into the armored skin of the beasts as the creatures bounded toward Dohi. Fitz aimed for their faces, seeking out their weakest spots. A well-placed shot to an eye killed the lead creature, tripping the others. Two of the remaining three went down in the gunfire, but the survivor pounced on Dohi.
He jammed his knife right through the chin of the beast and deep into its skull.
Fitz aimed at the entrance, spotting shapes in the darkness.
Three or four muzzle flashes suddenly lit up the open doorway.
“Down!” he screamed.
Bullets plunged into the chairs and webbing around Team Ghost. A round slammed into Esparza’s shoulder, and she fell backward, crumpling against a chair.
She pressed a hand against the wound. Blood gushed between her fingers.
More rounds hammered their position. Fitz couldn’t see their assailants or Dohi, but he could hear them. Another four juveniles rushed in screeching, and Dohi screamed back a blood-curdling war cry.
Rico crawled past a few destroyed seats to another position. A monster suddenly leapt over the seats in front of her.
“Jeni!” Fitz yelled.
She swiveled onto her back, bringing her rifle up to parry the snapping teeth of the creature. Fitz tried to aim, but another juvenile swiped at him from the seats he was behind.
The creature grabbed him by his collar and yanked him up, ripping his rifle strap with its claws and tossing him to the aisle. He hit the ground hard but drew his holstered M9 with just enough time to fire at the beast as it lunged for him. Bullets smashed into its armor but didn’t kill the wretched thing. It grabbed his prosthetic blades and pulled him closer, right into biting distance as he fired into the armor of its neck and face.
“STOP!” came a gravelly voice.
The bleeding juvenile loosened its grip, whimpering and backing off.
Fitz turned his gun on a Chimera with a ragged cloak striding down the aisle holding a cutlass. A broken skull covered his face.
Elijah.
The abomination that had killed Ace.
“Put your weapons down or you all die,” Elijah said. “This is your one chance!”
Fitz swallowed his anger and took a stolen moment to assess the situation while he kept his pistol trained on the skull mask. He couldn’t see Dohi, but Esparza was down. Rico was in the grip of a juvenile and six Chimeras marched beside Elijah. They split up, advancing down the sides of the throne room.
“Put down your weapons or your little Rico dies,” Elijah said. “The Prophet has chosen you. There is no need for you to waste your lives heedlessly.”
The beast looked away from Fitz to Esparza. “But not you, heretic.”
At the snap of his claws, a juvenile leapt over a seat and ripped into her.
“NO!” Rico shouted.
Fitz kept his gun aimed at Elijah as the monster tore Esparza apart, the sickening sounds of teeth on bone cutting through the air.
“Rico’s next if you don’t submit,” Elijah said.
“Don’t do it, Fitzie!” Rico yelled.
Saliva from the juvenile dripped onto her face.
Fitz was about to lower his gun when Dohi leapt over the seats. With his hatchet and knife in hand, he ran for Elijah, screaming at the top of his lungs.
A Chimera tried to stop him, but Dohi whirled and sliced open the throat of the monster and then slammed his hatchet into the face of a second Chimera. With only his knife left, he jumped onto a seat and then launched himself into the air toward Elijah.
The Chimera was caught off guard, and Dohi slammed into him, knocking him down. He brought the blade to Elijah’s throat but did not kill him.
“BACK OFF!” Dohi yelled to the other Chimeras.
The beasts throughout the room gave each other confused looks.
“Do it, or he dies!” Dohi shouted.
“If you kill me, your friends die,” Elijah growled. “I would readily give my life for the Prophet. But there is only one way out of this for you. Team Ghost joins the New Gods or the New Gods feast on your flesh.”
“I’d rather die than join,” Rico said.
“Fitz,” Dohi said. “Tell me what to do.”
Even if Dohi killed Elijah, they would all die in this throne room—and the Prophet would still be out there.
“You’re outnumbered, and your pathetic forces are on the verge of complete defeat,” Elijah said. “I am giving you the only way you make it out of here alive. Join us. Join the Prophet.”
“Where’s the Prophet?” Fitz asked, trying to buy time.
“In Galveston, leading our forces to victory.” Elijah chuckled under his mask despite the blade pressed against his throat. “It’s over for your beloved country.”<
br />
Dohi looked over his shoulder at Fitz, shock painted across his expression. Elijah took advantage of the mistake, grabbing him and tossing him aside. He rose to his feet with a cutlass in hand and angled it down at Dohi.
“You weak, pathetic traitors,” Elijah said. “You should have surrendered when you had the chance.”
— 25 —
The resounding thuds of explosives and the constant roar of gunfire filled the air. Beckham had his shemagh scarf pulled up over his nose, but there was no keeping out the biting odor of smoke.
Soaked from the sheeting rain, he and Ruckley were still on the catwalk stretching along the ten-foot-high, steel-panel wall surrounding the inner core of the base. Command and the hospital facilities were tucked away behind these walls, as was much of downtown Galveston.
From the catwalk, they could see the bay and the bridge four miles to the southwest.
Behind them, a platform led to a tower where Commander Jacobs was posted with his officers. It offered one of the best vantages on the island and was well protected by reinforced layers of wall topped with razor wire.
Minutes ago, they had all watched Timothy and Horn arrive in their Humvee, just before the soldiers guarding the bridge had blown it. Beckham had received radio confirmation that his friends had made it through the first sliding steel-and-razor-wire gate where the Gulf freeway met Galveston Island.
Those outer walls and gates had taken too much damage in the bat attack to be defensible, so the soldiers assigned there had fallen back. They were now positioned on a second set of barricaded steel-panel gates with two watchtowers about a mile to the southwest connected to the same inner core walls that Beckham and Ruckley were on.
From what Beckham could tell, the second position was about to get hit hard.
He lifted his binoculars to scan the choppy water of the bay. The pale flesh of Variants broke the surface of the opaque waters as the beasts swam toward the shore.
And it wasn’t just monsters headed their direction.
Two Black Hawks descended to the other side of the bay to pick up stranded collaborators. Once they pulled back into the sky, they raced over the water toward where Horn and Timothy had taken refuge.
Extinction Cycle: Dark Age Box Set | Books 1-4 Page 126
