Plague

by Matt James

  “Mo… It… Inside…” Mo could barely hear Logan over the wind and whine of the failing engine. They were just too heavy for what the helicopter had left in it. It needed gas and a complete overhaul when they were done—

  Gas, Mo thought—as a massive clawed hand burst through his chest. Blood sprayed, coating the windshield and instrument panel.

  Mo looked down at the four inches of talons protruding from his chest as they slowly retracted and slid out of his chest and then his back with a slurp. His eyesight fluttered and his breathing stopped. Both lungs were punctured and getting anything except the smallest of breaths was impossible now. He’d be dead in a matter of seconds, but he still had a job to do.

  Except, he thought, that was on the slightest of chances that I survived.

  Now, he didn’t have to worry about leading the monster away. He was able to do what needed to be done and damn the consequences. He was already dead.

  He grabbed the throttle and looked back into the cargo hold, seeing the demon for the first time up close and personal.

  It's six dead eyes stared back at him. Even though they didn’t function anymore, they still had all the hatred of hell itself burning through them. The blood covered maw of the creature hung open, unable to close like a proper mouth should. The teeth had grown so long that the lower jaw couldn’t shut completely.

  Mo smiled and then grinned at what he was about to do, seeing the beast lodged into Kipanga’s rear cabin.

  “Kuona wewe Kuzimu, Shetani,” Mo said in his native Swahili. See you in Hell, Devil.

  The demon tilted its head like it recognized the language, but Mo didn’t give it time to think it over. He yanked back on the throttle, cutting all power to the overhead turbine, making Kipanga drop like a stone. Mo looked out of his window, watching as the sun just began to peek out from behind the horizon. As his mind and body faded, Mo could hear his passenger shriek in recognition of what was about to happen.

  Then, Mo was gone, sacrificing himself for the greater good. He protected the animals of this region with a fiery passion, but he knew that wasn’t his greatest feat. His ultimate accomplishment was saving his friends. Logan would see to the rest. He believed in the Aussie with every fiber of his being. Even though Logan wasn’t the most passionate of animal lovers, he still respected them. That was enough.

  61

  As the Blackhawk fell from the sky, Logan turned and ran, rounding the last of the two northern sentry towers. One was a crumbled mess, but this one had miraculously survived Ares’ charges. The others, being closer to the building, would be able to flee inside, but he was too far. This would have to do. Kipanga was about hundred feet up when it started to fall, enough to destroy the aircraft and its occupants, but close enough for him to have to find secondary shelter other than what was left of the Bullpen.

  He ducked and covered his ears as the helicopter struck. It detonated on impact, the fuel left inside the tank creating the perfect large-scale Molotov. Fitz would be proud. The concussive force, paired with the heat and shrapnel, should definitely be enough to kill the monster.

  Should.

  A fireball burst past either side of the sentry tower, scorching some of Logan’s hair as it passed. He would probably have some minor burns, but it could have been worse. It could wait.

  Thank God, the tower held up—

  SNAP!

  Logan peered through stinging, smoke-filled eyes and gasped. The base had originally cracked and started to fall apart from the C4, causing the inner metal framework to bend and break. The explosion produced by the crashing helicopter must have caused the weakened structure to buckle under its immense weight. The thirty-foot concrete and steel tower was about to fall.

  He scrambled back and then to the side—and then back again, unsure what direction the thing would actually fall. It was like an undecided Redwood, teetering whichever way the wind blew it. If he chose the wrong way, he’d be a stain.

  Another roar erupted from the twisted, ruined Blackhawk, as something large and black emerged from the wreckage.

  No…

  The beast was alive—completely and utterly broken—but alive. Its left arm was missing at the shoulder, as was its lower jaw.

  POP!

  Logan watched as the Shetani shambled forward, on what looked like, two broken legs, but then turned his attention skyward. The tower leaned, ever so slightly, eventually tipping beyond its breaking point, and fell. It collapsed faster than Logan thought anything that solid and big could. He closed his eyes and hoped the end would come soon.

  And it did.

  It’s over, he thought, waiting.

  Shetani lunged forward and was crushed by thousands of pounds of modern engineering. Logan even caught a glimpse of an iron rebar pierce its skull.

  He fell onto his back and laughed as the dust plume settled over his body, making him cough in spurts. It was over, but unfortunately for him, a good portion of his beloved Bullpen was wrecked. The monster had really done a number on it.

  Still got my hot tub, though.

  “You alright, mate?”

  Logan didn’t answer. He just held up a hand, giving Fitz the finger, laughing again. They had survived. And so did—

  “Come now, brother. Show some manners.”

  Logan lifted his head and smiled. CJ had made it. She was a mess of cuts and blood like the rest of them, but otherwise, she was fine.

  “So,” Fitz said, offering a hand to Logan. “Does this mean we’re out of a job?”

  He pulled Logan to his feet, both men grunting from exertion and the results of various injuries. Patting Fitz on the shoulder, Logan laughed, when his friend winced in pain.

  “You’re really starting to soften up there—”

  GRRRNNN.

  It came from behind them, back towards the Bullpen’s open front door. The guttural moan repeated from just inside the north entrance.

  A scream erupted from the doorway as something attacked, latching itself onto Adnan’s neck. It bit and tore at the man until all that was left was a garbled whimper. Then, just like that, Adnan was dead, killed by—

  “Jan?” Logan softly asked himself, stepping towards the mayhem. He meant to check on him and make sure he didn’t need immediate medical attention—

  It’s then the big German dropped the deceased Adnan, covered in the man’s blood. Logan saw the eyes… The green eyes. They stared back through the smoky haze swirling around them. Jan wouldn’t be needing any medical attention… He was already dead.

  “NO!”

  Logan had to catch CJ as she tried to run to Jan’s aid. “Don’t, Cass. He’s gone.” He wrapped his hands around her waist as she kicked and clawed to get free.

  “Um, mates?”

  CJ stopped just long enough to see the worried look on Fitz’s face. She stopped fighting and Logan released her, but he kept a firm grip on her shirt collar, keeping her from running off again.

  “No…” CJ repeated. Tears streamed down her face for what must have been the tenth time since the sun set. But these were the worst set yet. The man she came to love…was gone.

  She stepped forward.

  “Cass?” Logan asked, not letting go of her.

  “It’s fine Logan. I’ll handle it.” She then turned and faced him. “He’d want me to.”

  He looked down and saw that she had her Glock. He and Fitz had both lost their weapons in the latest fight and the two Delta men were waiting for them to move first. They lowered the barrels of their weapons upon seeing CJ grip hers. It was up to her to finally finish this nightmare.

  The Nach that had just been their good friend—the gentle German giant—stalked forward. It then barred its black fangs, stretched out its newly formed claws, and charged.

  CJ began to cry again but lifted her weapon. She watched as Jan’s eyes—the same eyes that had made her insides squirm just a few hours ago—buried into her soul for the last time.

  She noticed the wound. It was pulsating with green
blood, enveloping the whole of the shoulder, easily seen from this distance. He’d been infected by the four-armed demon when it dripped some of its blood on him. She’d seen it live on the security feed from down in the basement but thought nothing of it.

  At first, Jan wanted her love.

  Now, he wanted her life—to take it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, sniffing back a sob.

  She pulled the trigger.

  EPILOGUE

  One Week Later

  Bodies littered the Serengeti for miles, stretching out from a central point. The bunker. Until further notice, the SDF and the American military labeled the park a hot zone. No one in and no one out. It was something that even the poachers wouldn’t mess with. They wanted nothing to do with the disease that ran rampant through the area overnight a week ago.

  But it was gone now. When the sun came up, anything infected with the Nazi’s Gott Blut burned from the inside out. It was an exact match to the description in Mengele’s notes. Something about the UV rays not agreeing with the chemical makeup of the plasma coursing through their veins.

  Logan was surprised and relieved when the country’s government officially allowed the U.S. Army to have boots on the ground. They had seen the reports. It was public knowledge that something horrific had happened, but they weren’t told everything—the exact cause.

  It had been labeled as a plague, which wasn’t technically lying. A virus of some sort had, indeed, broken out, infecting over a thousand animals and a few unlucky people.

  Zeus and Ares, the only surviving members of the twelve-man Delta outfit, offered to stay on and help oversee the cleanup efforts. They had lost a lot of men and wanted to see it through.

  Logan, CJ, and Fitz were all the SDF had left too, losing seven other members. The Bullpen still stood and was currently under heavy renovations. Logan had thought about tearing it down and rebuilding it from scratch, but there were too many good memories of the people they had lost in those walls. Plus, the only real hiccup the building had was the hole in the roof. That was almost completely fixed as of today. By Monday morning they could theoretically get back to work if they wanted too.

  “No friggin way,” Fitz laughed, looking up at the tarp covered ceiling. “I need a damn vacation.”

  Logan slapped him on the back, causing his friend to wince. It was good to see Fitz’s sense of humor was still alive and kicking under the circumstances.

  “Logan?” Logan turned and found Zeus standing a few feet away. He had a phone to his ear and looked deadly serious as he listened to whoever was on the other line.

  “What is it, Navarro?” Logan asked. Zeus—David Navarro—had insisted on him calling him by his less formal last name while in private. But once they were back out in the field, it was Zeus. Calling the man by his first name was still off limits. Something about getting too close to people in this line of business.

  “Samson put in a call,” Navarro said, mentioning Ares by his own last name. No wonder he likes Ares, Logan had thought when properly introduced to the demo expert. “He got a hold of someone who now works with an old friend of mine.”

  Logan raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

  Navarro handed the phone to Logan.

  “His name is Jenkins and he works for a former colleague of mine from when I was a Ranger. He has some high-tech program working on the rest of Mengele’s paperwork.”

  Jenkins?

  Logan took the phone.

  “This is Logan Reed. Is this Jenkins?”

  The man on the other end chuckled. “The name is Todd. You soldiers and your last name mumbo-jumbo… But yes, I’m Jenkins.”

  Logan was confused with Todd Jenkins. He didn’t sound military at all.

  “Who are you and who do you work for?” Logan asked, getting down to business.

  “Who am I? Well, I’m a software engineer, who likes to dabble in some of the other forms of online art, and as far as who I work for… Well, I’m not really allowed to tell you that.”

  Great… A government hacker spook.

  “Fine, Todd, but why you?”

  “Well,” Todd said, “your friend here called in a favor to my boss and asked me to look into something.”

  Logan looked back over to Navarro whose face was stone. He had, indeed, been in the Army Rangers before becoming a Delta operator. He even told Logan a candid story about an old Ranger friend of his. He was a mountain of a man with a loudmouth and a goofy sense of humor. Logan knew Navarro wouldn’t have asked for outside assistance unless he knew it would help.

  “And?” Logan asked, sick of the chit-chat.

  “I’ve come up with two things. First… We found some more information on the Verbraucher that Mengele spoke of.”

  Logan’s eyes widened as the spy continued.

  “We can confirm that they are most definitely in the Congo.”

  Logan suspected as much.

  “One of the most unexplored ecosystems in the world,” Logan added.

  “Yes,” Todd agreed. “Quite so.”

  “And?” Logan asked again, waiting for the other thing Todd had mentioned.

  “Secondly, they need to be stopped at all costs.”

  Tilting his head in confusion, Logan asked the obvious question. “What do you mean, stopped?”

  Todd cleared his throat and continued. “I’ve come to the conclusion that they will be even more dangerous than we expected. Think about it, Logan. Mengele said they could turn it on and off—the virus I mean. Who’s to say they aren’t already infiltrating the modern world?”

  “Sounds like a lot of speculation, Todd,” Logan said. “You need to give me more than this.”

  A voice spoke in the background and Todd mumbled something incoherently back. “Fine. Fine… Okay, look… All I can say is that we need you to go to the Congo and at least give it a look. We’ll finance everything in Serengeti and rebuild your base of operations with everything I can come up with. It’ll be better than ever and ten-times as safe and even more formidable to external attacks, including some pretty badass countermeasures to air assaults. We’ll triple your original staff and train and arm them. You’ll get a brand-new Blackhawk and a small convoy of vehicles.”

  “Todd, I—”

  The I.T. man cut him off. “We need this Logan. You can have Zeus and Ares, too. Until this threat is over, that is. They’re yours until then. No one on the planet is more suited to look into these…Verbraucher…as you and your current team. We will help you all but eliminate poaching in your park.”

  That sobered Logan up a little. Not only was there a potential threat to take care of, but his ultimate goal of protecting the species of the Serengeti was coming true. Manpower had always been their limitation, but not now. The SDF would truly be feared by everyone illegally hunting in his park.

  He looked at Navarro who nodded. It seemed the soldier would definitely be accompanying them. Samson stepped up next to Navarro and crossed his arms. The look of determination in the shorter bulldog’s eyes confirmed his involvement.

  He looked to the rest of his crew. CJ and Fitz apparently heard the conversation as well. His sister’s face was filled with glee. The prospect of saving the animals was her lifelong dream. Fitz’s expression was as indifferent as ever. He would be by Logan’s side either way.

  “Okay, Mr. Jenkins. Tell me everything.”

  A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR

  Thank you for supporting me and purchasing this book. I truly hope you enjoyed it. I was extremely nervous when I started on Plague as it was my first story outside of the Hank Boyd series. But man, it was fun! I had planned on writing something else truthfully, but then got the idea for this novel and ran with it.

  Also, if you have a spare moment, could you please leave a review on the website you purchased this from and/or on Goodreads.com? It would be very much appreciated. As an indie author, I rely heavily on word-of-mouth and social media, and every little bit counts. I don’t have some big-name publisher drivin
g sales for me. So, it’s all you, the readers, and the more interest I get…the more books I can write.

  Thanks again, Matt

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Matthew James is the author of the critically acclaimed Hank Boyd Adventure Thrillers, Blood and Sand and Mayan Darkness. He was born in West Palm Beach, Florida and still lives in his hometown with his family. Look for his next novel, Dead Moon, coming soon in 2016.

  You can visit Matthew at: www.Facebook.com/MatthewJamesAuthor

  www.Jamestownbooks.Wordpress.com

  Twitter: @MJames_Books

  Copyright © 2016, 2017 Matthew James

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The right of Matthew James to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover design © Matthew James used under

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