“It’s not about territory,” she said. “It’s about life.”
“What do you mean?” Schneck asked.
She tilted her head. “Process. When it eats us, it has to turn us into, well, whatever it’s made of. If it eats one of its own, it just adds it to its mass and moves the hell on.”
“But how the hell does something like that grow from a goddamned drop? I mean, the patient they brought in that was infected. The thing hadn’t eaten her. It was like incubating inside her.”
“Right,” Sarah said. “Maybe it keeps some part of its parent’s intelligence.” Another thought occurred to her. She suddenly didn’t want to talk about this anymore.
“Boss?” Kilfoil asked. “You okay?”
She shook away the shivers and then looked at him. “What?”
“You turned pale. You okay?”
“Fine,” she said with a nod. “Just had a really bizarre thought, that’s all.”
“Share,” Schneck said. “Can’t possibly be worse than finding out there’s a bigger one on floor six.”
“Yes it can,” she said. “What if it learns? What if that’s stored in its cells or DNA or whatever the hell?”
“If it has cells,” Schneck said.”
Kilfoil rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, man. Everything has DNA. Didn’t you take Biology 101?”
“Yeah, I did,” Schneck snapped. “But I don’t remember ever reading about anything that consumes and devours everything it touches, except for metals and glass. And I sure as shit never saw a shapeshifting blob on the fucking National Geographic channel!”
She dropped her rifle to its sling. “Enough. Check your ammo. We need a count.”
The trio started patting their pockets, checking their spare mags, and counting. She only had one full mag left. How many shots had she fired in the current mag? She didn’t know. Goddammit. Of all the times to lose discipline and forget to count. She wondered if Gunny Brown would have been able to keep track while fighting monsters. She sighed. The tough old bird probably would have.
“Two full mags,” Schneck said. “One-half mag. An M84 and a flare.”
“I’m down to one full and one that’s nearly gone,” Kilfoil said. “Still have an M84. No flares, though. Plenty of lightsticks. Bradfisch had one full mag, one half empty, and two light sticks.”
Not good. She imagined Givens and Perkins had more ammo. The two men always carried more than they needed. The only question was how many M84’s the two men had. She suddenly wished Givens hadn’t tossed the HE at the first creature. They could use that against something as big as what waited for them on floor six.
A nurse appeared in the hallway. Dark streaks of red stained the front of his scrubs. The look on his face didn’t warm Sarah’s heart. “How is he?” she asked.
The man pursed his lips. “2nd and 3rd degree burns on both hands. They’re not too too bad, but he needs to see a specialist soon. We managed to find some silver sulfadiazine cream and coated the wounds after we excised the dead flesh.”
Schneck paled. “You had to cut him up?”
The nurse nodded. “Have to get the dead stuff out of there. Else it’ll rot and grow septic. The cream will keep any new bacteria from growing on the exposed portions, but there’s no way it would stop dead skin from rotting.”
Sarah shook her head. “You put him out?”
“Of course,” the nurse said. “He’s drifting a bit. No one should have to feel that.”
“Great,” Kilfoil said. “We’re down another man.”
“What’s your name, sir?” Sarah asked.
The nurse pointed to his name tag. “Paul Fischer.”
“Take care of my man, Paul. We’ll be out of here in two hours.”
He didn’t look convinced. His eyes strayed over her shoulder and regarded the burned-out hall behind her. “Are— Are there more of those things?”
“Not down here,” she said. Even as the words passed her lips, she wondered if it was a lie.
Chapter 51
Floor three smelled of fire, mildew, and overcooked rotten meat. When all of this was over, Sarah was looking forward to a long, hot shower and maybe an hour of meditation in front of scented candles. But first, she had to somehow live through the next two hours.
She and the rest of the team waited for Givens and Perkins. The two men finally returned with some supplies stuffed into a Ben Taub duffel bag. Perkins had made a makeshift sling for the bag and wore it over his shoulder. Givens had a slight smile on his face and it was infectious.
“Found some toys?” she asked with a knowing grin.
Perkins beamed. “You ask, we find.”
“You both should have been thieves,” Sarah said.
Givens nodded slightly. “If you can’t forage, you can’t survive.”
“So I remember.” She gestured to the bag. “What you got for me?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Perkins said. “The kinds of toxic chemicals used for cleaning is terrifying. Also damned useful if you’re trying to build bombs.”
“So we got the goodies?” Perkins and Givens exchanged a glance. “I take it,” she said, “that’s a negative.”
“We got most everything we need,” Perkins said. “But the surgical unit on the next floor probably has what we’re looking for.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Which is what, exactly?”
“Oxygen tanks,” Givens mumbled.
“Excuse me?” she asked. “Did you say ‘oxygen tanks?’”
The Kentuckian nodded. “We’re thinking worst-case scenario.”
“Um,” Schneck said, “pure O2? You trying to blow up the goddamned building?”
Perkins laughed. “We’re not looking for a big one. Want to get some of those masks. Although,” he grinned, “now that you mention it…”
“Don’t even joke about it,” Sarah said. “We’re here to save people, not kill everyone.”
“Yes, Boss,” Perkins said. “We’ll behave.”
“Unless we can’t,” Givens added.
She shot Givens a withering look. “You boys check your ammo?”
The two men sighed. Perkins carefully took off the duffel bag and placed it on the floor. Then he and Givens both scoured their uniforms and belts for an ammo count. They each had two full mags left. Givens had a 1/4 mag in his rifle, Perkins a 1/2 mag. Perkins had two flash-bangs. Givens was out.
“Schneck. Go grab Epp’s gear. He’s not coming with us.”
“Boss,” Schneck said and jogged down the hallway to the observation room.
Givens raised his brows. “Hands that bad?”
She nodded. “He’s staying.”
A flash of anger raced across Givens’ face and then disappeared as though it had never been there. “He going to lose the hands?”
“No,” Sarah said. “Because we’re going to get him out of here. We’re all going to get out of here and we have less than two hours to do it.”
Givens nodded. “Yes, Boss.”
Schneck reappeared. He carried Epp’s rifle and two belts. He was smiling. “Good news, Boss,” he said as he approached. “Epp has 2 full mags and a third that’s more than half full. He’s also got an M84 and a flare. Plus some lightsticks.”
Good news? She sighed inwardly. It was good news, but not nearly what she’d hoped for. Lack of discipline. She hadn’t kept her team in line when it came to fire control. Hell, she hadn’t kept herself in control, either. But who the hell was worried about conserving ammo when you were fighting a goddamned oil monster? “Good. Spread the wealth, men. I want everyone with at least one full mag. Two if we can help it. Load up any spares with as much as you can.”
“Sure wish we had O’Malley’s gear,” Schneck said.
Sarah didn’t bother glaring at him. Grousing wasn’t allowed on the SWAT team, but she couldn’t help agreeing with Schneck. She wasn’t sure any of O’Malley’s gear had survived the monster attack, but it was something they should have chec
ked. The man was dead, but his ammo, grenades, supplies, anything could help them right now. And all of that was down on floor two in a smoldering wreck of a room.
I’m failing as a leader tonight, she thought. It was her job to think of those kinds of things. Not paying attention to those details could make the difference between bringing home live soldiers and writing letters to grieving families. Do better, she told herself.
The final ammo count wasn’t all that good. Thankfully, Epp’s supplies added some cushion. Everyone was loaded up with two full mags, except for Kilfoil and Schneck. The two members each had a full mag, and a nearly empty mag to boot. Celianne made sure Kilfoil and Schneck had extra magazines for their Glock sidearms and put them in charge of carrying Perkins and Givens’ supply booty. She was loathe to let any one team member carry all the grenades, so she spread them around as well.
She kept having to remind herself that the bullets didn’t matter all that much. The creatures were immune to them, save for the damage done to their appendages. They could fire at the eye stalks and maybe snap a few tentacles, but those efforts were futile if they couldn’t kill one of the beasties. Bullets might be fine for a human threat, but for these goddamned things, they’d have to use flame and a lot of it.
But that was another problem. Before the huge creature came smashing through the wall and attacked the smaller one, she’d noticed something. The smaller creature had skin. Or a shell. Something like that. It was lighter than the creature’s normal black. Not by much, but a little brighter, and it didn’t seem to absorb as much light.
Whenever they shot one of the appendages, black dust or crumbs seemed to float in the air. And those growths were solid. Or maybe hollow was the right word. When the tentacles or eyestalks broke off, liquid oozed out and hardened to replace the broken portions. Liquid to solid. But the big one went back to liquid to swallow, or absorb, or consume the smaller one.
The idea of a liquid entity large enough to fill a swimming pool was terrifying. Is that what they faced? Something that grew and grew and grew until there was nothing left for it to eat? If so, they were truly screwed.
And floor six had gone dark. How many patients? How many staff? How many human beings had it already consumed? And the most important question—was it on the move, or sitting up there lying in wait for another meal? And if it was—
“Boss?” Givens said.
Sarah snapped out of her thoughts. She could think later. Right now they had to move. “Form up. Two teams. Kilfoil and Schneck are with me. Alpha will lead.” Givens grinned. “What’s your problem?” she asked.
He laughed. “Seems like old times, Boss.”
Perkins punched his partner in the arm. “And how’s that a good thing?”
Givens’ face contorted with mock pain, his lips curling back to show his dingy teeth. “Ouch.” He glared at Perkins. “You hit like an Air Force man.”
Rolling his eyes, Perkins turned and walked to the stairwell, Givens in tow. Sarah took a deep breath. “You guys ready?” The remaining members of her team nodded. “Then let’s go.”
*****
As before, the stairway was empty. Unlike before, metallic banging echoed off the concrete walls. Givens and Perkins looked back at Celianne before continuing to the landing. She gave them a curt nod and the two men stepped quickly up the remainder.
The landing wasn’t large enough for the entire team. Schneck, and Kilfoil walked past the landing and took position a few steps up the next stairway. Sarah stood three steps below the landing, her rifle pointed at the top step. Through the glass window set in the door’s top 1/3, they could see a man’s face blocking out most of the light. A strange grimace of both excitement and surprise appeared on his face. The banging on the door stopped and the man stepped back.
Givens faced the door and Perkins held its handle. When Sarah gave the signal, Perkins opened the door. The man standing before them was dressed in blue jeans and a fleece, flabby belly easily visible despite the baggy garment.
“Thank God,” the man said. He stood a few meters back from the door. “Goddamned elevators aren’t working and neither is the—” His eyes seemed to finally take in their appearance and what they carried. He raised his hands in the air. “What the hell is going on?” he asked in a high-pitched voice.
Sarah felt bad for the guy. He probably thought they were just hospital security, given the dim lights in the stairwell. But his eyes had found the rifles, the uniforms, and the dangerous expressions the team wore. “Sir, you can drop your hands. We’re Houston SWAT.”
He slowly lowered his hands, but kept his eyes fixed on Givens’ weapon. “What are you doing here? Is there a terrorist attack? Is that why we can’t leave?”
Terrorist attack, she said to herself. If only it was that simple. “Sir, calm down. Please.”
“I mean what the fuck is going on? I just want to go home! I have—”
“The lieutenant told you to be quiet,” Givens said with a scowl.
Sarah tapped him on the shoulder and he moved out of her way. She stepped across the threshold and into the brightly lit hallway. Rifle still in her hands, she pointed it at the floor and then let it drop on the sling. “Just calm down, sir. What’s your name?”
“Mike,” the man stammered. He dropped his hands to just above his waist, eyes still locked on her weapon although it was pointed at the floor.
She tried to smile. With all the dust and dirt caked on her face, she wasn’t sure it looked like anything more than a hole with white teeth. “Mike,” she said. “There is a situation. We are taking care of it.”
The man’s eyebrows raised. “Situation? Ma’am? The goddamned fire alarm went off for a few seconds. The elevators are offline, no one’s cellphone works, and the hospital telephones are dead.”
Cellphones not working? Shit, she thought, they’re jamming all communications. “It’s the storm,” she replied. “Whole city’s having problems.”
“Then—” He swallowed. “If not because of the fire alarms, what are y’all doing here?”
“We’re to check the floor. We’re going level by level through the building making sure there are no problems.” The words felt awkward and ridiculous as they passed her lips.
Mike’s borderline angry face dissolved into an easy grin. “Well, hell. Why didn’t you say so? But why can’t we go downstairs?”
Her train of thought departed like a fall leaf. She opened her mouth to reply and then stopped.
“Rules,” Givens said. “Have to treat this like a real emergency. Y’all need to stay put,” he drawled.
Mike shook his head in disgust. “You have any idea what goddamned time it is?”
“We do, sir,” Sarah said. “And you’re preaching to the choir. We’d rather not be here either.”
Mike considered that for a moment. “Okay. Fine,” he said. “But I want out of here. Like soon.”
“Don’t we all,” Schneck muttered from the threshold.
Sarah painted a smile on her face. “Mike, if you’ll just be patient, we’ll get you out of here.”
“So what the hell am I supposed to do until then?”
“There is a lounge up here, right? So go lounge,” Perkins said.
Mike narrowed his eyes and glared at Perkins. Then his eyes softened and widened. “Yeah. I think I’ll do that.”
The man backed away from them and then walked quickly down the hall. Confused, Sarah turned and looked at Perkins. His rife was no longer pointed at the floor, but at the wall where Mike had previously stood. She giggled. “That’s mean.”
“Did the job,” Perkins said with a grin.
“Okay,” she said. “Supplies. Alpha, go find what you need. Tell anyone you see that we’re sweeping the floor. Give them the same bullshit we just fed that guy. And make sure that damned door is locked behind you.”
“Boss,” Givens and Perkins said. They checked the door and then moved down the hall.
She turned to Schneck and Kilfoil. “Le
t’s make the rounds.” The two men nodded at her and followed her down the hallway.
They managed to walk halfway around the building. Sarah couldn’t stop herself from looking out any windows they came across. Flashing red, blue, and white lights pierced the rain-drenched early morning darkness. They had enough cops and military out there to handle several riots. Patients, nurses, doctors, and other staff had no doubt seen what she did. She was surprised there weren’t more people waiting for them in the hallways trying to get out.
Sarah’s team eventually stumbled across concerned staff. A few words, a few lies, and they seemed happy enough to go back to work, although she wasn’t sure any of them believed her. Fortunately, hospital staff had jobs to do and since at least one surgery was taking place, they were more than a little busy. If this had all happened during the day, they’d no doubt have found a horde of people in the lounge. Since it was night and way past visiting hours, Mike was an anomaly rather than the rule.
When she and her team headed back to the stairwell they’d entered from, Sarah smiled. Team Alpha stood in the hallway. The two men had scrounged yet another duffel bag of supplies.
Kilfoil groaned. “Great. More shit to carry.”
“Shut it,” Sarah said.
Perkins grinned and held up the open bag. Several small oxygen masks, still attached to their feed canisters, peeked out. “I think we might be ready.”
“Anyone think to get more fire?” she asked.
Givens reached into his pocket and brought out three plastic, disposable lighters. “I did, Boss.”
She grinned. “That’s my boys. Okay, form up. Kilfoil, you got bag duty.”
“Right,” he said without complaint.
“Let’s go.”
Schneck opened the stairwell door and the teams headed inside. Another set of stairs. They moved up them easily. Sarah was tired, but more from the exertion of fighting and fleeing the oil monsters than physical labor. Although running and fighting for your life was definitely a good workout.
When they reached the fifth-floor landing, Sarah’s skin prickled with gooseflesh. The window inset at the fire door was dark as pitch. “Givens. Flash your rifle light at the window.”
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