She pressed her thumb and index finger together. A soft click, as the tip of her finger opened. A tiny hatch. She felt sick. It didn’t hurt but it wasn’t exactly the most reassuring thing to see. She pulled it open and tugged out the wires. She ducked under the desk and located the motherboard.
Motherboard.
Watch out, sucker. Mother is about to board you.
She patched herself into the system.
51.
FATTY HAD seen the red light of Jamie’s pager flash. He glanced down immediately at his own pager, snatching it off his pants. Goggled at it.
PLAN NOT WORKING
It was only then, senses suddenly heightened, that he heard the sound that would have been obvious to him if he hadn’t been so certain he wouldn’t hear it.
Tearing cloth.
The stink of it was already filling his nostrils. As it rounded the corner, Fatty could already feel his bowels relaxing.
52.
WITH NOTHING prepared for the warning she wanted to give, Lucy sputtered:
“Jamie! Fatty! Look out! Behind you!”
She was already too late.
53.
THE SPEAKER system echoed through the door Dr. Beck had left wide open on the mountaintop. It was Lucy’s voice. Coming over the speaker system. She’d done it. She’d connected to the computer system. Despite her frantic message, he smiled.
54.
THE BOYS panicked. Having a Rage suddenly turn up in your face, eyes wide and teeth bared, would have turned anyone’s legs to jelly. The Rage caught sight of Fatty immediately and wasn’t shy with its affections.
It swung at him with clawed hands. Fatty backed away, tripping and falling over, clutching his axe like a child with its favourite toy. His face screwed up in abject fear, gibbering something Jamie couldn’t understand. Tears spurted from the corners of his eyes. He wailed, which only drove the Rage to act with more aggression.
It was the worst of situations for Jamie. It was difficult for him to attack from his angle. He might miss the Rage altogether and slice Fatty open, creating an easier entry point for the virus to invade his body. He was a bigger target than the Rage, which was essentially only skin and bone.
The Rage fell on top of Fatty. Its weight wasn’t the problem. It was the hideous grasping claws and snapping jaws that made it difficult to adequately defend yourself.
Even if Jamie missed Fatty and struck the undead creature, he would only be slicing the Rage open and again making it easier to infect Fatty. The safest way was the only available course available to him.
As the creature fell on top of Fatty, Jamie seized the Rage by its denim jacket collar, gripping it tight. With his other hand, he slipped his blade through the creature’s ribs. If the clothing tore—which it most likely would as it had already been strained by its movement down the corridor—Jamie’s sword would catch on the Rage’s ribs.
If those bones were rotten—again, another likely scenario considering the Rage’s condition—it would fall another few inches forward before Jamie’s blade caught the creature’s spinal column.
Three chances. That was all Fatty had. If those failed, the creature would fall the remaining distance onto Fatty. There would be no stopping the creature from tearing into him after that.
The creature’s jaws snapped like a bear trap, looking for anything to bury its chipped teeth into. Fatty’s flesh was ideal. Its fingers scrabbled for purchase at the sleeves of Fatty’s T-shirt.
Fatty wisely kept his mouth shut and turned his face to one side. A single drop of the Rage’s blood or saliva from its slobbering jaws and his days were numbered.
The Rage’s shirt tore. Jamie braced himself to catch the weight of the creature’s body. It caught on his blade. And held. That was good. He pulled the creature back and held onto the sword hilt as he slammed the creature into the wall.
Jamie wouldn’t lose another friend to these things. Not again. Not after Nester.
The Rage would immediately reach for him, Jamie decided, changing target. Jamie was ready for it, and twisted, shifting his own bodyweight forward, using the creature’s momentum to launch it forward.
He let go of his sword, let the creature’s body take it to the floor. He couldn’t risk the sword failing to come free and remain trapped in the creature’s ribcage.
Jamie reached down. He didn’t take Fatty’s expectant hand to help him up but instead grabbed the axe. Fatty let him take it and got up by himself. Jamie swung the axe around in an arc as the Rage got to its feet with sporadic movements.
Jamie didn’t aim for its head. That would have been an ideal blow, but its head was a much smaller target than the rest of its body. He aimed lower and successfully struck it with a powerful blow to the chest.
The bones snapped, but that made little difference to a Rage. It was already flailing to regain its balance and launched forward. Jamie swung the axe around again, and this time, bellowing as he brought the axe head around at head height, he smashed the Rage’s skull.
It dropped to the floor. Black blood oozed from its shocked jaw. Its hands and arms were still moving. Alive, but with no one behind the wheel.
“Thanks,” Fatty said.
Jamie handed the axe back to Fatty and withdrew his own sword from the body. He used the creature’s torn clothing to clean his blade.
“That was too close,” he said.
“If it wasn’t for Lucy’s voice on the speaker I’d be dead already,” Fatty said.
Right. Lucy. Just how had she managed to do that? And then the full scope of the situation dawned on him.
“We have to go,” he said. “Lucy’s voice would have attracted more of those things. We have to go now.”
As if on cue, screeches erupted from a dozen Rage throats, echoing down the corridor. They couldn’t stand against that many. Never.
Jamie and Fatty took off at a run up the stairs.
55.
LUCY’S WARNING over the speaker system had been a starting pistol to the Rages. As a swarm, they ran into the City via the hole. They were already inside. But perhaps Dr. Beck could reduce their number.
He set his charge for thirty seconds and beat a hasty retreat.
56.
DONNY FINGERED the explosive charge and waited for the signal to set it off. His beeper flashed red.
Finally.
He did a doubletake at the beeper.
RETURN TO CITY NOW. MEET IN WEAPON RESEARCH ROOM.
Huh?
Momentarily confused, Donny dropped the charge. He hissed through his teeth at being so stupid as to drop it. It could have blown him to smithereens. He left it without a timer. Wasn’t of much use to him now anyway.
He leapt into the Mustang and hit the gas.
Something had clearly gone terribly, terribly wrong.
57.
THE EXPLOSION rocked the mountain top. The explosion was a deafening thunderclap. The shockwave, buffeted by the earth and the facility walls, roared. The entire world shook violently.
As Dr. Beck had only just stepped inside—Damn! Why didn’t I set the timer for a little longer?—he was knocked to the floor, walking stick sliding from his hands. His arms weren’t strong enough to stop him from falling hard.
The roof groaned and dust fell from a growing crack in the ceiling, sprinkling his head. Dr. Beck covered his head with his hands and prayed for it to stop.
58.
THE ENSUING rock slide succumbed to gravity and rushed down the mountainside like a giant wave. Donny couldn’t make out the Rages from his angle but he could imagine them now, ineffectively rushing to avoid the great squash.
In the forefront of his mind, like a splinter, he was painfully aware of the two innocent souls alongside them. Donny hammered the steering wheel with his palm. He never should have let Jamie go down there. He’d had a bad feeling about it from the start. What kind of brother was he to let his baby brother confront the Rages? He wasn’t alone, but he took little consolation in the thought
Fatty was at his side.
Out the corner of his eye, something squirmed at the base of the mountain. Their heads bobbed as they sprinted. Rages. Looking for another entry point now that the main entrance was shut to them. How could they be so far out already?
The answer hit him like a cold punch to the stomach. Because he’d set a charge to distract them. This was what was supposed to be happening.
Donny hit the gas and shifted into top gear. He wouldn’t be deterred. He drove faster, heading directly for the mountain, where the vehicle entrance was.
He hoped it would open in time. He had zero intention of slowing down.
59.
THE AVALANCHE consisted of tons of dirt and rocks. Some were small and insignificant, others giant, hefty boulders. The shadowy figures didn’t stop when the dirt rained down on them, didn’t even pause when their comrades suffered concussions from the smaller varieties, only forced to stop when the boulders crushed them into the earth, flattening them. Others struggled on valliantly but were drowned by the great dirty brown wave.
The screens turned dark one by one, the mountain covering them with a mighty hand. Another camera, dirtied and half-coated by the soil showed what remained of the Rage horde. They simply split off, not missing a beat, heading both left and right to identify a new entry point.
Relentless. Lucy shivered and hoped they would not find another way in. But she knew, deep down in her heart, that eventually, they would. It was only a matter of time.
Inside the facility, the dirt had smothered the former Weapon Research Division wreckage. One Rage found himself buried up to the waist. He clawed at the soil, accidentally digging and working himself free. Then small pockets of earth shuffled, jittering like its own private sinkhole was developing. Something buried, but still close enough to the surface was fighting for survival. A hand burst out, thrusting like the epilogue of a bad horror movie, grasped at the soil and pulled, extracting itself from the earth. Born again.
Three, then four, more figures pulled themselves from the wreckage. They stopped a short distance away and raised their noses, sniffing, listening, for something—anything—to stimulate them into motion. As one, they snapped to attention in the same direction—where the other Rages had gone. Perhaps one had made a noise. It was a starting pistol.
The earlier Rages were already rushing, streaming into the facility, winding down each corridor like a river. Most went in the same direction, trailing the leader, who had the best claim on a juicy meal if he was running so fast. Still, some of the others had broken off and taken alternate courses, heading in multiple directions. These wayward souls stood still, moving only after they heard something that garnered their attention.
The pager was flashing once again with Dr. Beck’s latest message.
RETURN TO CITY NOW. MEET IN WEAPON RESEARCH ROOM.
Lucy unplugged herself from the computer, drained, and yet somehow, invigorated. She didn’t know if it was the electricity from the computer system coursing through her veins that gave her the extra pep, or the feeling she was getting a small—in fact, according to Dr. Beck, tiny—taste of her true power.
She ran.
60.
DONNY DROVE in a straight line, heading directly for the cliff face like a suicidal maniac. He was getting close. A little too close. If the doors didn’t begin to open soon, he would smash into the mountainside.
The Rages continued to pelt in his direction. No doubt they could hear the roar of his engine. It would be a chiming dinner bell to them. He put them out of his mind and focused on that damn wall.
Finally, movement. The mountainside began to shift, distort, like some kind of optical illusion. The cloak disappeared suddenly in the blink of an eye, a magic trick. One second it was there, the next, it wasn’t. The giant doors of the Vehicle Service Centre cracked open.
It was going to be a tight squeeze.
Donny altered his trajectory slightly, aiming directly at the centre. The doors were still—painfully slowly—opening. He clenched his eyes shut tight as the car raced into the cliffside and. . .
Passed through.
Donny quickly overcame his shock and hit the brakes.
Never turn the wheel when you’re braking hard, his father used to warn him. Not until you slow down some.
Donny was finding it difficult to even keep the car straight when he hit the brakes as hard as he had. A ripping, tearing sound as the wheels grappled for purchase. The parked cars ahead rushed up to meet him.
Fast. Much too fast.
Donny wrestled with the wheel as he continued to barrel forward. Then, abruptly and all at once, the car came to a stop. Inches from the fire truck. Donny jolted forward then back in his seat. He panted, covered head to foot in a cold sweat. He checked the rearview mirror.
Horror.
The doors were still opening. Apparently, they needed to complete a full move before they could close again. They seemed to be taking forever to open. Donny knew what was outside, what was trying to get in. They couldn’t be allowed in. Not any more. He climbed from the car, legs shaking with his near-death experience.
He closed on the wide opening. Hurry up and shut, damn it! He scooped up a wrench on his way. Felt the heavyweight in his hand. It felt good.
The light above the doors began to blink green. They were shutting. About time. Donny kept the wrench handy.
Familiar shrieks from the Rages as they drew closer, the gap growing smaller. Still large enough for them to get through. The groans grew louder still, echoing off the cold blank walls. As the moans crested, growing to a crescendo, the doors shut, cutting the growls off dead.
Donny let out a sigh of relief and held the wrench as he turned and ran for the exit.
61.
AS THE roaring grew quieter, Dr. Beck took his hands off his head. He glanced up at the ceiling, at the walls. Nothing had collapsed. Nothing had fallen on top of him. The facility was still standing. Who knew what effect the explosion had on its structural foundation. He would need to do a diagnostic check later.
The lights overhead began to dim until it turned dark, then gradually lit back up, before growing dark again. The emergency protocol had engaged.
Dr. Beck reached for his remote and attempted to override the settings. He was unable to do so. Damn. He needed to get to a terminal before he could override it.
They were trapped with whatever Rages had managed to get inside the facility. It was likely enough to wipe all of them out. And why not? It wasn’t like the Rages hadn’t done it before.
62.
JAMIE AND Fatty crept down the corridors. It was taking them a long time to check each doorway, covering one another and nodding it was clear before continuing. It would take hours to reach the Weapon Research Division at this rate. But hours were better than never.
The lights began to dim.
“Oh great,” Fatty said. “Darkness.”
Black did indeed follow but was then replaced by growing light.
“What’s going on?” Fatty said. “I feel like a rat in a maze.”
Their pagers flashed.
EMERGENCY PROTOCOL INITIATED. ALL DOORS UNLOCKED. BE CAREFUL.
“All doors unlocked?” Fatty said. “I don’t understand what that means.”
“It means the Rages can wander anywhere they want,” Jamie said. “No obstacles.”
“Yippee,” Fatty said. “This was getting too easy. I always like a good challenge.”
“Stop flapping your lip and come on,” Jamie said.
Fatty clutched his axe close. What he wouldn’t give for a good bow and arrow right about now. Or better yet, a Gatling gun.
63.
THE FIRST time the lights dimmed, Lucy backed into a doorway. She hated the dark. It reminded her of the time she spent in the tank of green liquid. It had blocked out most of the light, casting her in cloudy murkiness. Then the lights began to rise again. It made the situation a lot scarier than it was.
Most of the Rages were st
ill in the basement, making their way up the stairs, higher and higher. Could they have scaled enough stairs to have made it to her level already? She didn’t know. She hadn’t heard or smelled them yet.
Her breath caught in her throat whenever the light darkened and began to shift to the bright side. Something could leap at her as it dissipated into the darkness phase, setting her on edge.
The mind did funny things when it was on edge. Her breath was loud in her ears. She panted, hard, loud. She concentrated on her breathing and reduced the volume. For all she knew, it was the kind of thing that attracted Rages. She was woefully uneducated on the creatures.
A noise. A slap, like something had collided with a wall.
Somewhere behind her, she thought. She backed into a doorway and waited for the light to silently rise again. She clutched the short sword Jamie had given her, grateful he’d insisted on her taking it, but wishing she knew how to use it more effectively than simply hacking and slashing. Wished she knew for certain she would not simply freeze when confronted by one of those things.
The lights began to make its silent crescendo again before descending into the infinite darkness. Lucy used the opportunity to step from her doorway and rush to the next one, pressing her back to it as the light faded to darkness again. She shifted to the next doorway. She moved like that, one doorway at a time in the time-limited shadows. Dark breadcrumbs leading to safety.
That sound again. Thumping, thudding.
Footsteps.
After The Fall (Book 2): The City Page 11
