Extinction Survival Series | Book 4 | Warrior's Fate

by Browning, Walt

  Grand Park

  Downtown Los Angeles

  Roy

  Roy’s thighs were burning from the long ride, so he let the bike glide the final hundred yards. He was in a rush, worried that his weeks of cultivating trust with Brett and his men might be lost if the Variants failed to act quickly on his intelligence.

  The redheaded giant wasn’t to be trifled with. Anyone or anything that it found displeasure with was quickly dispatched. He’d seen it personally and didn’t want his own head rolling down the sidewalk while the rest of his body became the beast’s latest human snack.

  Fortunately, he had struck the mother lode, stealing a map that would lead them to their most dreaded enemy. John Carver and his cursed dog, Shrek, had dealt the horde a horrific amount of death and frustration. The redheaded alpha had communicated it well enough to all of his minions that it wanted Carver. Anyone who brought him down would be well rewarded.

  Roy clutched the map to his chest and pushed past the multitude of Variants that were milling about in the street. He strode confidently among them; his scent was well known to all the infected. He was one of the untouchables that the alpha had designated as an ally. He would continue to be safe in their midst, as long as he produced more human flesh for the alpha and its horde.

  Finding uninfected humans was becoming more and more difficult. The city limits were nearly barren of any of the untouched, which is how he’d stumbled across Brett and his squad. He’d been searching the northern reaches of the city and literally walked around the corner of a building and ran into the young man.

  He gave a masterful performance, quickly changing his demeanor from a predator searching for humans to a frightened survivor being stalked by the evil Variants. When Brett told him that he worked with Carver, and then invited him to join their clan, he could barely contain his excitement. In one moment, he was struggling to find more human prey to avoid becoming the alpha’s next meal and the next, he had been invited to join their mortal enemy’s group. Now, he would lead the horde to Carver’s hideout and kill their enemy once and for all.

  Roy entered Grand Park and found the stairs leading down. It took him to an underground tunnel that connected to city hall. Off to one side of the subterranean passageway was an unmoving escalator that would take him to the alpha. He turned on his flashlight and descended through the old tunnels. He moved past thousands of inanimate Variants, all in a state of hibernation, each waiting for their leader’s command to awaken.

  Several times he accidentally brushed against one of the unmoving creatures. A couple of them awoke from their trance after he bumped them, nearly striking him dead. He made it past these sleeping monstrosities with speed and a little luck. They were never happy when they first woke up, probably because they were famished when their bodies forced them into their hunger-induced trance. They were still starving when they awoke.

  Roy approached an old room that had once been used as a speakeasy during the 1920s when Prohibition had attempted to make the country a dry and moral land. The only thing that the Eighteenth Amendment did was to drive the consumption of alcoholic beverages underground. The tunnels were constructed to give the politicians and rich downtown businessmen a place to drink after work. Now, it provided a safe and comfortable lair for the virally infected Variant leader and its most trusted warriors.

  Roy got to the ancient metal door that led into the alpha’s royal chamber. Along the way, he noticed that most of the cocoons holding the horde’s human food were empty. Only a few of the hundreds of crusty tombs remained unopened. They would be out of fresh meat within a week. The map he was clutching to his chest would give them a new supply of people to feast on. The alpha would be pleased.

  Roy walked into the room and found the alpha hunched on top of a large table, surrounded by armed guards. The one-armed Variant that was always at the alpha’s side stood nearby.

  “Carver,” Roy said, holding up the map. “I found Carver.”

  The alpha roared. Within minutes, thousands of Variants poured out of the underground hallways and onto the street. Roy found his bike and began pedaling north, following the map to the hidden human lair. Even though he was churning his legs as fast as he could, he barely kept ahead of the horde.

  He glanced back onto the moonlit street. An uncountable number of hungry, glowing yellow orbs stared back at him. They were massed in the road, even hurtling along the sides of some of the buildings, having scaled the walls to get above their brethren. He shivered uncontrollably at the evil he was leading. An adrenaline rush kicked in, and he began pedaling even faster. Death was following him, and if things worked out, he’d be rewarded well for his work.

  Lopez Canyon Landfill

  “That’s Leo,” Tim said, pointing to the constellation that sat just above the western horizon. “Your turn.”

  Lucas scanned to the left and traced a star pattern with his finger. “That’s Virgo. The virgin. Just like you,” he said, prodding his sibling with his elbow. “And don’t tell me I’m a virgin too. You’ve got me by two years.”

  Both brothers were sitting on the hood of the MRAP, leaning back against the windshield.

  Tim returned the elbow jab. “Good thing I don’t hate you.”

  Both young men continued to stare out over the inky, Los Angeles skyline. The moon was high in the sky, giving the landscape an azure glow. The lunar light and illumination cast by the night’s thick bands of stars allowed them to see clearly for miles.

  “I guess there’s one good thing about the apocalypse; no light pollution,” Lucas said.

  The cloudless sky bore a primordial quality. Stars blazed with an intense, bluish glow, and the clean air seemed to magnify the Milky Way, creating an ivory curtain that splashed across the heavens.

  Nocturnal insects hummed in the desert grasses. Field crickets chirped their night staccato while the occasional katydid added their high-pitched flutter. The cacophony reassured the men that there were no Variants lurking in the area. Silence would have been far more concerning.

  “Looks like it worked,” one of the other soldiers said, pointing toward the city.

  They all held up their IR scopes and took in the distant view. The infrared image showed a bright whitewash flowing up from the southwest. Streets were filled with Variants, all moving rapidly toward the underground storm drain that had been marked on Brett’s stolen map.

  “I can’t believe how many there are,” Tim said.

  His brother stood up on the front hood and glassed the oncoming tsunami of infected flesh with his own IR rifle scope.

  “That’s a lot of Variants,” he grunted. “We won’t get them all.”

  “Always the pessimist,” Brett replied as they watched the infected army racing up Ronald Reagan Freeway.

  “Why are they lined up like that?” Lucas asked.

  “I’d imagine that they’re probably following my buddy Roy. He has the map, and it’s not like he can just give them directions,” Brett said. “At least, I hope they haven’t evolved that much.”

  The heat signatures all coalesced into a single, massive line. It looked like a string of cars, their headlights burning, speeding up from the south. It had to be over a mile long. They filled all ten lanes of the massive highway.

  The horde turned off the freeway and raced up San Fernando Road. They found the bridge over the dry riverbed and rushed down into the Pacoima Wash. The bed of sandy, man-made wadi was dry. Its raised edges were covered with concrete. Because of its width and hardpacked surface, it was overflowing with the infected.

  “Well, here we go,” Brett said as the first of the Variants rushed into the storm drain’s opening. “I hope you did your job right.”

  “Brother, you never need to ask me that,” Lucas replied.

  The younger man then hit the timer button on his watch and began to count the seconds.

  “We will know in about sixty seconds how many we got,” he said confidently. “This was some of my better work.” />
  San Fernando Road

  Roy had never been so exhausted. After the fifteen-mile ride into town, he was forced to return less than an hour later. With no food and little water, he’d ridden the last five miles in a stupor. He didn’t remember anything about the final half-hour of the journey other than some motivation given to him by the alpha.

  As he turned onto San Fernando Road, he began to slow down. His strength had long ago faded. They were about two miles from the tunnel opening when his legs started cramping and his spine felt as if it were about to rupture a disc. That’s when the alpha gave him a reminder of the mission.

  His head was bobbing up and down as he stood to pedal. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make his legs move any faster.

  Big Red, as the collaborators called the alpha, was suddenly at his side. It was almost seven feet tall and bent over to roar next to his ear. The creature’s fetid breath and infected spittle sprayed from its mouth, coating the bicycle with black specks of contagion. Roy didn’t have a problem completing the journey from that point forward.

  Roy slowed slightly as he approached a bridge that spanned the wash. A tall, chain-linked fence topped with barbed wire prevented him from getting down from the road and into the man-made riverbed.

  He saw the same setup on the other side, the starlight gleaming off of the stainless-steel barrier. He was at a loss, but the problem was solved by the monster army.

  Several of the creatures that were at the head of the pack raised their noses into the air and cried out. They smashed through the fence, rushed down into the wadi, and sprinted north.

  They smelled their prey. The turnoff and entrance to the tunnel was just up from the bridge. The horde followed the first creatures as Roy coasted to the middle of the bridge. He watched with satisfaction as the infected army raced toward Carver’s camp.

  The alpha and his guards moved to the center of the bridge, as well. The giant creature stood stoically, enjoying the spectacle he’d created. Thousands of its minions were following their instincts and soon, the problem of Carver would be over.

  Wilson Canyon Channel Entrance

  The Variants in front of the horde smelled the human scent as they approached Pacoima Wash. The ocean winds hit the distant San Gabriel Mountains, which deflected some of the air back into the city. The breeze flowed down the wash, funneled by the buildings, and encouraged by the cooler temperatures at the bottom of the ravine. The air picked up the human spoor as it passed by the tunnel entrance, bringing it to the bridge where the Variants could smell it.

  The first Variant at the tunnel entrance raced in. It tripped an infrared sensor that sent a signal back into the deepest parts of the man-made cave. The Variant continued on, oblivious to the chain of events it had just initiated.

  The electric current triggered when the IR beam had been broken switched on an MP3 player at the far end of the pipeline. Immediately, the sounds of a large crowd of people began to play and was broadcast back up the toward the tunnel entrance. The Variants shrieked when they heard that, redoubling their lust for human blood and flesh.

  They raced deep under the city. The journey was over a mile long.

  Back at the entrance, the horde was massed in front of the drainage pipe opening, which was too narrow for more than three Variants to pass through at the same time. Their anger and frustration quickly boiled over into a massive, deadly brawl. Hundreds of the monsters began to tear at each other in the wash outside the side tunnel while thousands continued to push into the tight space, some even taking to the ceilings to bypass the logjam of creatures on the ground.

  Cries of rage echoed throughout the city as Variants clashed. Some of the anger was from frustration, while much of it was left over bad blood. The two clans had an uneasy peace. It was the alpha that glued them together. Left to their own devices, they would have killed each other for the meat.

  Throughout the tunnel, signs that the humans occupied the space had been left by Lucas and his squad. Discarded clothing, empty food containers, and the detritus of human living were scattered on the concrete floor. The sight and smells triggered the creatures further into blind rage.

  A mile into the bowels of the town and about a quarter of a mile before the underground drain ended in another open wash, Lucas had set up one more switch.

  As the first of the monsters rushed past the old garage door sensor, it interrupted a continuous beam that was cast from one side of the tunnel to the other. The momentary pause caused a jolt of electricity to surge back down the pipeline, triggering the chain of explosives.

  C4 erupted, each blast sending another electric jolt down to the next charge, creating a chain reaction that collapsed the tunnel. A full mile’s length of the city’s 8th Avenue roadway collapsed. Dirt, asphalt, and glass all smashed down onto the horde.

  Taking an enemy’s strength and making it a liability is a classic martial arts technique. In this case, the boobytrap worked flawlessly. Using the mindless rage of the Variants against them, thousands of the monsters were wiped out in a one-mile, subterranean deathtrap.

  Back on the bridge, Roy heard the crump of multiple explosions, followed by plumes of dirt erupting out of the ground. The clouds of debris marched back to the tunnel entrance and ended with a large blast that tore up the concrete threshold and sandy basin of the wash.

  Roy ran forward to the edge of the bridge. His hands clutched the chain-linked fence that topped the overpass’s concrete wall.

  How could this have happened?

  Fear gripped the man when the shock of the explosions faded, and the realization of the damage he’d just witnessed hit home. He began to turn to the alpha, when a crushing blow struck him in the back, sending him flying against the bridge’s knee wall and fence. Already dazed from the ride, he momentarily blacked out.

  He awoke a second or two later and felt himself being raised off the ground. The last thing he saw was the alpha’s massive paw sticking out of his chest, his still-beating heart in its grasp. The beast pulled its claw back and dropped Roy’s corpse to the ground. It shoved the fresh and still quivering muscle into its mouth and ripped it apart, gulping it down in large chunks.

  It stood silently for a time, waiting for the horde to return. Few did. With less than a hundred creatures left, the alpha screamed to the sky.

  Carver did this!

  Its addled brain became enraged at the thought of the man and his dog. Carver must die.

  The alpha would take those that remained and command them to hunt down Carver and his cursed animal companion.

  With a final howl of frustration, it turned and sprinted away.

  — 10 —

  Time flies over us but leaves its shadow behind.

  — Nathaniel Hawthorne

  Lopez Canyon Landfill

  The explosions weren’t dramatic. From Brett’s point of view, standing at the peak of the landfill’s tall mound of garbage, they were actually difficult to see. There were no fireballs or earth-shaking sonic booms that an above-ground eruption would make. The only two indications that the detonations actually worked were the plumes of dirt that shot skyward and the low-pitched thuds they created. It sounded like the distant thumps of a marching band’s bass drum, each beat representing the destruction of hundreds of the infected as the chain of explosions marched along the mile-long pipeline. To the untrained or inexperienced eye, the whole affair was rather anti-climactic other than a final detonation at the mouth of the pipeline. To the men from Lost Valley, it was pure beauty.

  “Sometimes, I even amaze myself,” Lucas said.

  The two squads were all staring out through their IR optics. The black-and-white image registered the dark columns of dirt, while the final explosion, just outside the mouth of the underground canal, whited out their intensifiers.

  A few minutes went by before the dirt settled enough to make out any details. By their count, less than a hundred creatures survived. These infected monsters hobbled back toward the city, d
isappearing among the San Fernando buildings.

  “Great job, you guys. How about a beer? I could use one,” Brett said.

  “When have you not needed a beer? The only difference is that tonight, you actually earned it,” Tim replied, grinning. “Let me send Lost Valley a sitrep. Then we can celebrate.”

  The Next Morning

  “I swear to God, you’ve got no chance of ever getting a girl the way you snore,” Tim Reedy complained.

  Brett couldn’t argue with his friend. Last night’s success was the culmination of weeks of effort, and he hadn’t slept well since they’d found Roy. Once the op had concluded, he felt a weight lift and slept as soundly as he could remember.

  They all had been running on very little rest, but that was going to change. After the success of their mission, they were going home for repairs and a recharge. The vehicles needed maintenance, but more importantly, the men needed to be back with their families. It was a lot easier risking your life when you remembered why you were fighting. The trip back to Lost Valley would remind them all why they constantly put themselves in harm’s way.

  “I’m hungry. And I don’t want any of that crap we brought along,” Lucas said. His complaints about the MREs weren’t unfounded. There wasn’t much of a selection, especially for breakfast. “Let’s go find something to eat before we head back to the barn.”

  “Sure, bro. You want a Happy Meal?” Tim asked. “Or maybe we can find a diner somewhere.”

  The joke fell flat. All it did was bring up memories of fast food restaurants and their drive-through windows. The boys all sat silently, each one lamenting that those days were gone, never to be seen again.

  “Yeah. Let’s go,” Lucas finally said. “There’s a food warehouse down there. We haven’t been through this part of the city yet. We may find some supplies to bring back with us.”