Under Darkness (A Sci-Fi Thriller) (Scott Standalones Book 1)

by Jasper T. Scott

  “Give me a minute...”

  Wilde’s eyes flicked up periodically to watch them in the rear-view mirror, but he said nothing else. Bill’s eyes rolled up in his head, and he batted lazily at Don’s arm one last time before going limp.

  Horror stabbed through Beth once more as she watched Don check her dad’s pulse with two fingers on his neck.

  After a few seconds, he nodded. “He’s good, but he could wake up any second.”

  “Here!” Ashley passed a needle to him loaded with clear fluid and capped with a blue lid.

  Don pulled the lid off with his teeth and stuck the needle into her dad’s thigh, depressing the plunger with his thumb.

  “How long will this give us?” Don asked.

  “Four to six hours,” Ashley said.

  “Good enough.”

  “For what?” Commander Wilde asked. “I’m assuming you have a plan.”

  Beth looked from the commander to Don. Apparently she wasn’t the only one in the dark.

  “The same plan you had when you insisted we all ride together,” Don replied. He pointed up to a circular hatch in the ceiling. “That’s a Ma Deuce you have on the roof. And neither of the corporal’s vehicles have one.”

  “If we open fire on our own men, they’ll have all the right and reason to hunt us down, dead or alive.”

  “And if we don’t, we’re dead anyway. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re being led off to the slaughter.”

  “Maybe not,” Wilde said. “Maybe they really do just want to run some tests on us.”

  Don glared at the back of Wilde’s head. “You don’t really believe that. You saw the blood samples. They’re the ones infected—not us. And even if it were us, the CDC would have been knocking on your door—not an insubordinate, trigger-happy corporal who thinks he can give orders to a superior officer. You and I both know what that smells like, and we need to ditch them before we’re up to our necks in it.”

  “You have a secure location we can head for?” Commander Wilde asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Don replied.

  Wilde let out a shaky breath. “All right, soldier. Light ‘em up.”

  Chapter 50

  Don opened the hatch, jumped up, and swiveled the gun around to face the back. Metallic thunder chugged out from the weapon, and sparks kicked off the hood of the Humvee as Don riddled it with holes. The driver immediately began to swerve out of the way, and Don’s aim drifted down to the front tires. One of them exploded, and shreds of rubber flew out. Sparks leapt from the naked rim as it kissed the road, and then the Humvee swerved off into the long grass on the side of the road.

  “One down!” Don yelled as he ratcheted the turret back around. His ears were ringing.

  “Heads down!” Wilde called out from below.

  Don caught sunlight winking off the scope of a rifle as it popped out the passenger’s side window of the lead vehicle. The Humvee was armored from the back, so the only sure way to stop it was to aim for the rear wheels, and even those were going to be hard to hit.

  Don pressed down on the butterfly-switch trigger with both thumbs just as the rifle aiming at him began rattling out rounds—but it wasn’t aimed at him. Screams sounded from below, and Don thought he heard glass shattering. Then he scored a lucky hit on a tire. It exploded with a bang, and the remaining tires squealed as the driver swerved, trying to correct. That gave him a momentary view of the other rear wheel, and he blew it out with another bang. The Humvee came up fast, losing speed, and Wilde swerved around it. Don gave them a passing volley through their windows and saw blood splatter the inside of the vehicle. Jackpot.

  He fell back into his seat just as the commander accelerated to put distance between them.

  “Clear,” Don said. “What’s our status?”

  The roar of weapons fire still echoed in his ears.

  “Doctor Carter’s hit!” Commander Wilde said.

  “Shit. Ash, can you hear me?”

  “I... I can’t breathe.”

  Don leaned over Bill to peek around the front seat. Ashley’s suit was slick with blood and covered in shattered glass. Wind gusted in through the broken windshield, making it hard to see without blinking constantly. “Where are you hit?” he asked.

  “Between the ribs... upper right side,” Ashley said between gasps.

  “We have to get your suit off,” Don said. “How do we... shit,” he cast about for something he could use. Unable to find anything he settled for pressing his hands against the bubbling wound in Ashley’s side. With her suit in the way, that did nothing to staunch the flow of blood. “She’s going to bleed out. We have to pull over somewhere.”

  “If I pull over, we’re dead,” Wilde replied. He passed a bayonet to Don. “Cut the suit off.”

  Don grabbed the knife in a bloody hand and folded out the first blade he could find. He made short work of the rubbery material, as well as Ashley’s clothes underneath. A grisly hole appeared just below her right breast.

  “I need bandages, gauze, something!” Don said.

  “In the bag,” Ashley said, gasping as she pointed to the black case at her feet. Don’s eyes flicked up to Beth, who was peering around the other side of the front seat. “Can you reach the wound?”

  “I-I think so,” she replied.

  “Good. Put pressure on it.”

  Beth reached out tentatively.

  He grabbed her hand with one of his. “Here, where my hands are. Hard as you can.” Once her hands had taken over for his, Don strained to reach Ashley’s bag, yanked it up, and dropped it on her lap. He zipped it open and began pulling out bandages and gauze.

  “I need directions, Don,” Wilde interrupted.

  Don looked up briefly. “Stay straight until you see a dirt road appear on your left.”

  “Left? That’s on the other side of the road...”

  “Then make a U-ey!” Don snapped. To Beth, he said, “Lean her forward. I need to check for an exit wound.”

  Beth pushed Ashley forward until her forehead was bouncing on the dash, and Don cut more of her suit away at the back, revealing a huge, golf-ball-sized hole. “Clean shot. That’s good,” he said. “Just missed your spine, though.” He began wadding up gauze and wrapping it with compression bandages around Ashley’s chest to cover the exit wound.

  “She’s losing too much blood!” Beth said. She struggled to keep her hands on the entry wound.

  “Just hang on a second,” Don replied.

  “Dirt road up ahead,” Wilde interrupted. “That it?”

  Don muttered a curse as he glanced up. “Yes! Take it!”

  Wilde hit the brakes, and both Don and Beth lurched forward. Don had to hook his legs to avoid flying out the broken windshield. Then came the U-turn and both of them were thrown to the side. Beth knocked her head on the window, and Ashley flopped around like a rag doll. Adding injury, a huge bump knocked their heads into the ceiling as they joined the dirt road.

  “Make her sit up straight!” Don said.

  Beth pulled back on Ashley’s shoulders. Her head lolled inside the suit.

  “Shit. She’s lost consciousness,” Don said. “Probably a sucking chest wound.”

  “A what?” Beth asked.

  “It means her lung collapsed! Just keep pressure on the wound!”

  Don cut a square of material from Ashley’s suit, then brushed Beth’s hands away and began taping it over the entry wound. He saw the plastic sucking into the hole, then pushing back out with a river of blood as Ashley exhaled.

  “Shit. This isn’t going to work.”

  “Do the best you can,” Wilde said. “I’ve got a fork in the road. Which way?”

  Don looked up. “Right! Go right!” He pawed through Ashley’s bag again. “Damn it! Tell me you packed one, Ash...”

  “One what?” Beth asked.

  “Found it.” Don withdrew the glinting tip of a large bore needle with a green plastic fitting on the back. He turned and stabbed the needle between Ashley’s ribs. A
ir whistled out. “Good.” He let out a breath. “You can do it, Ash,” he said in a shaky voice as he wrapped a compression bandage around one hand. Ripping off the taped square of plastic he’d placed over the entry wound with his other hand, he replaced it with a thick layer of gauze. “Hold it there,” he told Beth. She placed a shaking hand over it. “Apply pressure, damn it!”

  Beth did, and the gauze turned red.

  “Good. Now, push her forward.”

  As she did so, Don began wrapping the compression bandage around Ashley’s chest, the same as he’d done with the exit wound. By the time he finished, two lines of bandages crisscrossed Ashley’s chest.

  Don withdrew and wiped the sweat from his brow. “That’s all I can do for now. The rest is up to her.”

  Don sat back down with his head pounding in time to his pulse.

  “Where are we going?” Wilde asked.

  “My place. It’s off the grid, about ten miles from here. In the mountains.”

  Commander Wilde shook his head. “At this speed that’ll take us at least twenty minutes.” He glanced at Ashley but said nothing. They both knew she was going to need a miracle to survive this.

  The Humvee skipped through a pothole, and Don knocked his head against the roof. He winced and hauled his seatbelt out to prevent an encore.

  “They’re going to send choppers as soon as they realize what happened,” the commander said.

  “Let’s hope the blackout took out their comms.”

  “Wouldn’t bet on it. They’ll have radios in their vehicles,” Wilde said, “and the receiving stations at the CDC and Barking Sands have backup generators.”

  “Yeah...” Don replied, peering up through the open hatch as they skipped through another pothole. He was half surprised not to see a helicopter already hovering over them.

  Chapter 51

  When his cabin came peeking through the trees, Don could hardly believe it. There was no sign of pursuit. By some miracle, they’d made it. Had he killed all four Marines? If so, that might explain it.

  Commander Wilde pulled to a stop in front of the cabin, Don said, “This is it. Everybody out.”

  Don opened his door and jumped down. Commander Wilde was close behind him. “I’m going to need your help with Ashley,” he said.

  “Count on it,” Wilde replied.

  They ran to the passenger’s side and hauled Ashley out together. She stirred and groaned as they did so. A good sign. It meant she was still alive and at least semi-conscious. “Let’s get her inside,” Don said.

  Wilde nodded.

  “What about Bill?” Beth asked as she jumped out.

  Don glanced at her. “We’ll deal with him in a minute.”

  They pushed through the front entrance of the cabin into a messy living area. “Beth! Clear the table!” Don said as they approached an old wooden dining table. She did as asked, picking dirty plates and half-empty glasses off. Don spared an arm to help and swept the remaining items off onto the floor with a crash and clatter. The table was barely big enough for Ashley, but it would have to do for now. Don stared at her, blinking sweat and breathing hard.

  “I need equipment,” Wilde said. “I don’t suppose you have a bag of saline?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “Get it!”

  Don nodded and took off at a run, heading for one of the storage rooms at the back.

  As he went, he heard banging on the hatch to the basement. I guess someone’s awake.

  “What’s that?” Beth asked, running into the storage room behind him.

  Grabbing an IV bag full of saline, Don glanced at her and shook his head. “That’s Nana.”

  * * *

  “You have your grandmother locked in the basement?” Beth asked as she chased him back to the dining room.

  Don hurriedly passed items to the commander. “I wasn’t going to let her run around free once I realized what she was.”

  Commander Wilde hung the IV bag from a nearby curtain rod while Don fitted the catheter to Ashley’s wrist.

  “Get her helmet off,” the commander said.

  Don hurried to do so.

  Beth waited in silence, watching as they worked. Realizing now wasn’t the time for questions, she bit her tongue and spent the time checking her surroundings. Don’s place was a simple wooden cabin, dark and dirty inside, surrounded by trees. It wasn’t even on the road. They’d left the dirt road and driven down what looked like a trail for horses for another five minutes just to get here. Wondering if Don had power, Beth flicked a nearby light switch. Nothing happened. She frowned, and her thoughts went back out the open door to her dad, lying in the back of the Humvee, unconscious and abandoned.

  Beth went to check on him. Dead leaves crunched underfoot. Birds chirped and sang from the trees. Bugs hummed and buzzed. Chickens clucked.

  Bill lay half on, half off the storage compartment between the back seats. His legs dangled off the edge and his arms were folded up at an awkward angle. Just then he gave a big sigh in his sleep. At least he was alive. She thought about Don’s grandmother, locked in the basement like an animal. Was that what Don had planned for her dad?

  There had to be a cure. If radiation killed the alien cells, then surely it would be a simple matter to fix them. That CT scan had done something to him. Maybe if they could get her dad to one of those scanners...

  But they were fugitives now. They’d fired on Marines and killed at least one—or Don had, anyway. But more to the point, everyone on the island was probably infected by now. There was nowhere they could go that would be safe.

  Beth crawled into the back of the Humvee and laid her head on her dad’s hip, waiting for Don or Commander Wilde to come out and get them.

  She dozed off while waiting and dreamed she lay in bed at the Koa Kai with Toby’s arm draped over her, and her dad safely distracted downstairs while he managed new arrivals. Toby smiled sleepily at her. “Hey.” It was a real memory, not just a dream, but even in her sleep Beth’s chest ached to remember him.

  Beth awoke to the sound of thunder. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was dark outside, the ground scarcely lit with moonlight. How long had she slept? She twisted around to look at her dad, but he was still sedated. It can’t have been that long, then...

  More thunder sounded, booming endlessly in the distance amidst the roar of airplanes. Airplanes? Beth frowned. That wasn’t thunder.

  Don and Wilde ran out and stared up at the sky. Beth climbed out of the truck to join them in time to see a pair of jet fighters scream by at a low altitude, making the ground tremble. A second later, two missiles streaked after them, and then another fighter appeared, giving chase.

  An explosion illuminated the sky and pounded Beth’s eardrums, silhouetting the trees with fire. Beth cringed, holding her ears, and ducking low to the ground. “What’s happening?” she asked. “Is it the Crawlers?”

  Don turned to her with big black eyes and shook his head. “No, it’s just us.”

  Chapter 52

  “Let’s get him inside,” Don said and pointed to Bill.

  Beth helped them pull him out of the truck and carry him into the cabin. She noted that lanterns hung from the ceiling, illuminating the cabin in strategic places.

  “Lay him out on the sofa,” Don said.

  “What if he wakes up?” Beth asked as her dad stirred and hugged a couch cushion.

  “You could hit him on the head with something...” Don suggested.

  “Are you crazy?” Beth replied.

  “There are more sedatives in Doctor Carter’s bag,” Don said. “Why don’t you go out and get it for us?”

  “It’s raining hellfire out there, and you’re sending her?” Commander Wilde asked.

  “They’re not going to waste a missile on her. Besides, you and I have more important things to do. I’ve got a two-way radio out back. We need to see if we can pick up something on the emergency bands.”

  The commander gave in with a grudging nod. “Lead the w
ay.”

  Beth ran back to the Humvee and retrieved Ashley’s bag. It was heavy, but she’d manage. Surfboards weren’t exactly made of feathers.

  Explosions still boomed distantly, accompanied by the occasional flash of light. Just as she headed inside, a trio of missiles arced above the tree line. One of them exploded in mid-air, blooming like fireworks.

  Beth hurried back inside the cabin. She made sure to shut and lock the door behind her—not that it would offer much protection. Hearing muffled curses from the others, Beth set Ashley’s bag down by the door and ran toward the sound of the voices. She emerged in a stuffy room with a desk and stacks of equipment. Loud static crackled from speakers somewhere in the room.

  “They’re jamming all the bands,” Don said while turning a dial.

  “Who is?” Beth asked from the doorway. “You have power?”

  Commander Wilde and Don both turned to her with grim looks in the silvery glow of an LED lamp.

  “Battery-backup,” Don explained. “Won’t last long with the generator off, though. And as to who, that’s anyone’s guess, but I’d say the Chinese.”

  “A good guess,” Wilde added. “They’ve been posturing and making threats for months.”

  “They have?” Beth had made a point to avoid watching the news or talking about any of it. Sticking her head in the sand might not have been the smartest move, but it had kept her sane.

  “They’re going to break the quarantine for us if they make landfall,” Commander Wilde said.

  “And play right into the Crawlers hands—or claws,” Don added. “At least it’s going to take the heat off us, and I’ve got enough supplies to last a few months.”

  Beth cast about. “Where?” The cabin didn’t seem big enough to store three months’ worth of anything.

  “In the basement,” Don explained.

  “With your infected grandmother?” Commander Wilde asked with arching eyebrows.

  “There’s an outdoor entrance, and the supplies are locked up out of her reach.”

  “You have an armory?” Beth asked.

  Wilde let out a breath and ran a hand back through his crew cut gray hair. “At least there’s that. What have you got?”