“I like you, kid,” she laughed patting my cheek just a bit too hard. “You remind me of my granddaughter—all piss and pride, just looking for a fight.”
Her smile faded, and her gun was back on us before my next ragged breath. She nudged me in the shoulder, and we all pressed on. The cars on the lower half of the bridge were clustered together, two or three deep in some spots. There was barely enough room to squeeze the buggy through in some places. Tessa had to kick the thing loose a few times, as the wheels would get wedged against a tire or a dislodged fender.
Now that I was as mangled as my bicycle, the last leg of our journey was particularly difficult. In addition to being massively dehydrated, I now had a broken rib (or five) to contend with. Every time I breathed, turned the handlebars, or stomped too heavily, pain would rip through my middle, threatening to tear me in half.
“Liv, are you—,” Jake said from behind me.
“I’m…fine,” I lied. The sky churned above us.
“Liv,” Zander echoed his worry.
“I said,” I hissed at the pain that pressed against my sternum. “I’m…fine.”
“Straight ahead,” Tessa said, pointing down a line of big brown delivery trucks.
The army of useless machinery spanned the width of the building, sitting idle in its own numbered space like plots in a cemetery. Every five spaces or so there was a red X spray-painted onto the concrete walls. The military had already been here.
Tessa reached down the front of her shirt and pulled out a whistle on a long leather cord. She put it to her lips and blew sharply on it three times, the sweet sound of a chirping bird echoed across the stillness. She dropped the whistle, letting it dangle at her chest and waited. A few seconds later, an equally sweet song echoed back in response.
“That’s my guy,” Tessa smiled.
A young man stepped out from behind the truck in spot number four, holding a pistol that looked much too small for his hands. His shirt was the same color and cut as Tessa’s, with a black and red patch on his chest that read G4S- Custom Protection Division. The guy couldn’t have been much older than Zander. He looked more uncomfortable holding a weapon than me. “Ma’am.”
“Liv,” Zander hissed at my back.
“I know,” I muttered my eyes firmly focused ahead. I wasn’t letting any of them out of my sight.
“Good looking out, Ballard,” Tessa said nodded at him, then pointed over her shoulder. “Where’s Doyle?”
“Down past fifteen, ma’am,” he replied pointing his gun at each of us as we rolled past.
“Doing what, exactly?” Tessa asked.
“He had to, umm, that is…” Ballard stammered. He brought up the rear as the last of us had proceeded. He cleared his throat and sighed. “He’s taking a piss, ma’am.”
“Of course he is,” Tessa muttered shaking her head. She led us down the row of massive brown trucks. “And how’s Megs?”
“No change, ma’am,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I’m sorry.”
“Doyle!” Tessa pounded her fist on the hood of the truck in space number nine.
A few seconds later, a dark-haired man stumbled out from behind a truck down the line. His gun was shoved lazily under his arm while both of his hands wrestled with his belt. He was tall with broad shoulders and thick arms, but his gut hung over his uniform pants. The way he carried himself screamed high school hero who’d spent the last ten years drinking beer and reminiscing about his glory days. He shot Tessa a look of pure disdain as he fumbled to get a grip on his gun.
“Jesus Christ, Tessa,” he said. “You scared the—,”
“Scared the piss out of you?” Tessa cut him off, her hand on her hip. “Clearly. I’m pretty sure your orders were to hold down your post until I got back. I don’t recall telling you to wander off to play with yourself.”
“Liv,” Zander said, his voice a mere whispered at my back.
“You were supposed to be back like an hour ago,” Doyle said.
“Yeah, well, as you can see, I got held up,” she gestured to the rest of us. “Make yourself useful, Doyle and take point at the rear entrance. We don’t have time to discuss your ineptitude, right now. We’ve got another storm rolling in.”
“Olivia!” Zander growled at me, finally pulling my attention away from the idiots with guns.
The darkness of his pupils spread to a full circle, and his face was drained of all color. His chest was heaving, and sweat ran down his jaw in rivulets. The veins in his neck bulged to the point I thought they might burst. He bit down hard on his bottom lip and drew blood.
“Zan?” I stepped toward him, my bike scraping along beside me.
“Don’t!” He shook his head and took a step back, forcing the buggy into a hard turn that nearly tipped it on its side.
“Get me out of this thing,” Christa screamed. “Jake, Ty, somebody help!”
“They’re…coming,” Zander hissed, blood and spittle spraying onto the front of his tee.
“Who’s coming?” Ballard took a step back. “What’s he talking about?”
“Damn it,” I said desperately scanning the area. “Tessa, cut us free.”
“What’s wrong with your boyfriend,” Tessa said roughly grabbing my arm. “Is he having a fit or something?”
“Aww, hell no.” Ty’s eyes went wide. “We gotta go, y’all.”
He shuttered and shook, frantically trying to rip his hands free of the tandem bike. Eli nearly fell over as Ty tossed him and the bicycle about like a cat toying with a dead mouse.
“Graagh!” An agonized howl ripped from Zander’s chest.
Tessa had bound his blackened arm up to the elbow. He threw his head back, desperately wrenching against the tape that restrained him. The bike’s tires cleared the ground by at least a foot and slammed back down with enough force that the rear brackets, clipping the cargo to the Mongoose, snapped. The buggy started rolling backward with its passengers still trapped inside.
Bella barked and snapped her teeth together, clawing at the mesh canopy in a desperate attempt to break free. The buggy rocked back and forth with the force of her efforts, nearly upending it onto the hard concrete. Christa let loose a blood-curdling scream. Jake, Riley, and Falisha hurried over as best they could dragging the ten-speeds along like a ball and chain. The guns that were pointed at them were no longer the greater of two evils.
“You have to cut us loose,” I screamed in Tessa’s face, “or we are all going to die.”
She glared at me for a moment, then released my arm and turned away from me. Her hair swung across her back as she lunged toward the massive runway in the field beyond the lot. She cupped her hands around her eyes, narrowing them against the harsh sun as she stared off into the distance.
“Tessa,” I shouted over the distant clambering of razor sharp claws scraping their way toward us.
“What in the Seventh Circle of Hell is that?” Tessa stepped back as the first of the scritters crested the concrete barrier at the edge of the nearest runway.
Chapter 21
Exposed
“Cut them loose,” Tessa shouted.
She flung her gun strap over her shoulder and slid a small knife from her pocket. She slit the tape around my hands. The bike fell to the ground in a heap of useless aluminum and plastic. I spun on my heel, digging my knife out of my pocket and immediately rushed to help free my friends. Doyle’s hands shook as he scrambled to open his pocket knife so he could free Ty and Eli from the tandem bike.
“Hurry,” Eli shouted at him. “They’re coming!”
“I’m trying,” he stammered.
Doyle’s face was coated in a veil of flop-sweat. It wasn’t difficult to see why Tessa was not a fan. He was too busy looking over his shoulder at the wave of scritters rushing toward us to be of any use. I shoved him aside and made quick work of the thick silver tape. Doyle dropped the knife to the ground and took off running.
Thankfully, Ballard had already cut Riley and Jake loose
of their handlebars. While he sliced through Falisha’s bindings, the other two worked to release Christa and the dog, both of whom were in a panic. As soon as there was a small opening in the mesh panel, Bella shoved her narrow snout through and wriggled free of the buggy. She made her way to Zander and I as fast as her three legs would carry her.
“Gahhh!” Zander howled. His body hunched in a mangled arc over the seat of the massive yellow bike. “Liiiv.”
“I’ve got you,” I said nearly colliding with him as my boots slid in the loose gravel. “Zan, hold on.”
I carefully slid the blade of my knife between his wrist and the rubber grips on the handlebars. My touch was causing him pain, but if I didn’t get him loose, we’d have bigger problems than his discomfort. As soon as the tape was severed, he lurched away from me as if I were burning him.
“We need…to go.” His crimson eyes darted back and forth.
I ran to Tessa’s side and spun her toward me. “We need to get inside.”
“His eyes,” Tessa leered at Zander, her hand tightening on her knife. “Is he—?”
“Now, Tessa!” I yelled dragging her away.
“This way.” Tessa spun on her heel and bolted at a dead run.
“Hold on tight, sugar,” Ty scooped Christa up in his arms.
Before she could protest, Ty flung the girl over his shoulder and onto his back. He grabbed Jake’s forearm and took off after us, dragging the Toler’s along like unchecked bags.
Riley yanked at Eli’s hand and pulled him along as she and Falisha sprinted past. Eli clutched his pack tight under his arm and, for once, kept pace with them. Ballard scooped up Doyle’s knife and tossed it to Zander. He ran to catch up with the others. Zander and I, with Bella galloping at our side, brought up the rear. We quickly spanned the distance between us, and the rest of our group.
We rounded the back corner of the big brown UPS building and veered off into a wide-open lot that ran parallel to the runway. The scritters were headed straight for us. They gnashed and scraped, tumbling over each other in a black wave of raw hunger. Bella barked and growled in their direction but never strayed more than a few feet from my side.
“Head for the authority tunnel,” Tessa shouted over her shoulder.
She tore off diagonally across the massive plot of cracked concrete. A collection of mismatched planes from all over the world littered the area. The great, metal birds were halted at odd angles around the lot. The smallest among them, a private jet, seemed to have collided with the rear corner of the building. The tires on the landing gear were shredded to the rims. The door was closed but hung crooked in its opening. A stair truck was parked next to it but wasn’t quite close enough to reach. Tessa ducked under the tail of the craft and disappeared behind a long line of big white vans labeled RFD Shuttle.
“Hurry,” Ballard shouted sidestepping and waving us on. “This way!”
The scritters had cleared the concrete barrier and were swinging in an arc headed toward the cluster of planes. Their claws etched the pavement, and their jaws clacked furiously as they followed the scent of fresh meat. They were ceaseless and unwavering, united in a single-minded pursuit.
Just past the charter line, a long corrugated metal tube jutted out onto the runway. At the end was a massive blue cargo door. Tessa was struggling with a massive set of keys while Doyle banged desperately on the door.
“Stop that,” she hissed at him. “You are not helping.”
“Hurry up, Tess,” he screeched, his eyes widening as the herd rolled around the back fender of the last van and cascaded toward us. “Holy Christ!”
“Hang on, hang on…I got it,” Tessa said, holding up a brass key. She shoved it into the padlock, slid it free of its housing, and yanked the door open.
Before the roll door had even cleared the metal base track, Doyle was on the ground. He shuffled under the door on his stomach then stumbled his way up the dark tunnel and disappeared into the building. Ty lowered Christa to her feet. He grabbed hold of the door and helped Tessa raise it high enough for the rest of us to get in. It slammed shut once the last of us had made it through.
One of the creatures had just cleared the track when the door crashed into place. The metal base plate crushed the lower half of its body. Its head and front legs wriggled furiously as it tried desperately to free itself. The scritter’s teeth clacked together, lashing out and screeching in pain. The beast’s claws dug slices into the cheap blue carpeting on the floor. The rest of the herd slammed into the metal door, squeezing their talons through the small crack beneath the barrier.
“To hell with you, demon,” Tessa sneered, stomping down on its thrashing head. The scritter squealed for a moment beneath her boot then went still, its wing-like arms sprawled out as if in flight. It twitched, and she stomped down on it again.
“Yeah, I think it’s dead,” Eli said huffing as he clutched his pack to his chest.
Tessa dropped the metal lock to the ground and slammed her back against the sidewall of the dark tunnel. She put her hands on her knees and dropped her chin, so her long dark hair hung in a curtain around her face. Her shoulders heaved up and down. Her aviators slid down her nose and dropped to the floor.
Bella lowered herself to a crouch near the door, her hackles raised as she sniffed at the creature. She nudged it with her nose then sneezed and shook her head. She hobbled back and forth in front of the large metal door a few times before letting loose a shrill bark.
The sound sent the beasts into a frenzy. The clacking of their jaws grew unbearably loud as they surged at the door like a tidal wave, rocking it inward. Thousands of razor sharp claws and teeth scraped against the gate, grating like the harsh pitch of nails on a chalkboard.
I picked up the lock, slid it through one of the small holes in the side track, then hooked a length of chain over it and closed it.
“This won’t hold them for long.” I scooped Tessa’s glasses from the floor and shoved them into her hand. “We need to go.
“Obviously,” Tessa huffed, wiping her boot on the matted carpet.
She slid a wide rubber band from her wrist and swore under her breath as she tossed her hair up into a ponytail. Then, she pulled a flashlight from the belt at her waist and shined it in my face. I flinched and shielded my eyes. She lowered the beam and turned to walk away.
“Well, come on, then,” she said disappearing into the shadows.
* * *
“What is this place?” Falisha whispered.
“Greater Rockford Airport Authority,” Ballard said wiping the sweat off his brow. “Admin building.”
Tessa clicked off her torch as we exited the darkened tunnel and led us around a curved counter top. The sun was still high in the sky, glaring off the last of the glossy surfaces that weren’t coated in blood, bodies, or spatters of black muck. Many people had died here. Too many to count.
“Good God, it reeks in here,” Christa groaned, pulling her shirt up over her nose.
Tessa shot her a look, pressed a finger to her lips, and inched around a charred skeleton laying near a metal refuse bin. She raised her knife in front of her and waved for us to follow. Mine was in my hand before we had even exited the tunnel. I nodded to Falisha and Riley.
Tessa surged forward, silhouetted against the bright orange glow creeping through the glass doors at the end of the hall. The girls pulled out their hideous green kitchen knives we had stolen from Jake’s kitchen and followed close behind her. Ty and Jake walked with Christa sandwiched protectively between them. For once, the girl was silent. Her eyes darted anxiously about, flinching at every little noise.
Bella trotted along at my side, sniffing and snorting at every doorway we passed. As was his way, Zander had my back. I felt horrible for him. Whatever those things were, their proximity caused him pain. I could hear his teeth grinding together behind me, and the rumble growing in his chest. The little freaks were closing in on us again.
The closer we got to the end of the corridor, the louder
their scratching and screeching became. They had tracked us, somehow, and were gathering en masse beyond the barrier of the safety glass of the emergency exit.
Tessa opened a large metal door, held it agape with the toe of her boot, and positioned herself between us, and the sea of beasts beyond the glass door. She signaled to Ballard over her shoulder. He moved to the front of the pack to lead us down the narrow flight of stairs.
“Go ahead, guys,” I said softly motioning for the others to follow him. “Right behind you.”
Only when we were all safely inside did Tessa join us. She yanked the hulking door closed behind her as she stepped through. A long metal rod lay against the wall to the right of the frame. She lugged it over and slid it through the handle on the door, so both ends of the rod were flush against the doorframe. Zander and I waited on the landing as she worked, each of us with a blade in hand.
“Let’s go,” Tessa said as she wiped her rust coated hands onto her shirt.
“Ladies first.” Zander forced a smile, but his voice scraped from his chest at an odd cadence.
He pressed his back against the wall and lowered his gaze as we passed him, then hung back a few paces as we descended. His shoulders were tight, and his fists were clenched at his sides. He was doing his best to regain his composure, but his eyes were still crimson beneath that curtain of lashes. Tessa glared over her shoulder at him and gave me a pointed look as she stomped past him.
“Get them to old bridge A,” Tessa said as Ballard reached the bottom of the steep metal staircase.
He gave a curt nod and slid his gun back into its holster. “This way, guys.”
As if on cue, Riley and the others turned toward me. I nodded and avoided Tessa’s gaze, absently pressing my hands against the stabbing pain in my ribs as I peeled the tape residue from my skin. We stepped through the door and into a musty-smelling storage area. It was lined wall-to-wall with rows of metal racking and large wooden crates, and stacked from cracked concrete floor to low-hung ceiling.
Ballistic: Icarus Series, Book Two Page 19