Edge of Survival Box Set 1

by William Oday

  And broadcasting wasn’t doing a thing.

  “That’s it,” he said to Beth at his side. “I’m finished waiting.”

  Beth squeezed his arm as if that might offer some measure of reassurance. It was a thoughtful gesture, but it achieved no more than the radio.

  “Honey,” she said, “I know—“

  “Stop. We’ve been through this and I get it. There are hundreds of ways they could’ve taken and we don’t even know for sure where they were headed. But I’m not sitting around here wasting more time droning on when we don’t even know they’re receiving the transmissions.”

  Beth stared into his eyes and nodded. “I agree. It’s time.”

  The handheld squawked.

  “Mason, this is Juice. Come in.”

  “Juice, this is Mason. Go ahead.”

  “I’m picking up a weak signal on the walkie-talkie frequency. Give me a minute to dial it in and I’ll get it patched over to you. Over.”

  “Roger that. Over.”

  Mason’s heart jumped into his throat. Could it be them? Or was it another set of walkie-talkies using the same frequency? It was a generic set of walkie-talkies. Something anyone could’ve bought and received two days later.

  It wasn’t unthinkable that someone else in a city of millions was using the same model. Still, it was the first ray of hope he’d felt since discovering Theresa and Elio had left last night.

  The key, he found, was to put a lid on your expectations. It was too easy to allow your spirits to soar at the possibility. And he knew all too well that flying so high could result in a spectacular crash if things didn’t turn out like he hoped. It was how the mind worked. Sanity and stability required him to keep his hopes firmly tethered to the ground.

  “… about a mile away.”

  It was Elio!

  “We should be home soon. Say something if you heard this.”

  Mason mashed the transmit button and spoke in even words as his body spiked with joy and fury in equal measures. “Elio, this is Mason. We received your message. Is everyone okay? Over.”

  “Daddy!”

  Beth squeezed Mason and burst into tears. “Thank God, she’s safe.”

  Mason winced at the pressure constricting his ribs.

  “Theresa, baby! Are you okay?”

  “Yes, we’re,” she began and then her voice faded out.

  “Theresa, hold it closer.”

  “Sorry,” she replied, coming through clear again. “I’m a little out of breath. We’re fine. Maria is with us. We’re about a mile away. We’ll be home soon.”

  There was zero chance Mason was going to sit on his hands waiting for them to cross that last span of distance. Not when any terrible thing under the glaring sun could happen.

  “Theresa, give me the road you’re on and what intersection is ahead.”

  “We’re on Lincoln coming up to Sepulveda.”

  Mason jumped up and grabbed the keys to the Bronco.

  “Theresa, did you see that?” It was Elio again.

  “What?”

  “Go! Go faster! There are deltas coming out! Go right—“

  The walkie-talkie crackled and then cut out.

  No. Please no.

  “Mason, this is Juice. Something’s going on upstairs. The relay will stay open, but I’ll be away from comms for a minute. Over.”

  A familiar rhythmic thump echoed faintly from the handheld. Mason recognized it immediately. Just like the chopper that had dropped the assault team on his house.

  A loud explosion crackled and sounded like the little speaker had blown.

  SHUCK-SHUCK.

  “Mason, I’ve got company here.”

  “Get out of there, Juice!”

  “I’m not going anywhere. It’s a—”

  A series of explosions drowned out his voice. Then the report of the shotgun firing.

  BOOM.

  BOOM. BOOM.

  Mason watched the breach play out in his head. The assault team dropping flashbangs down into the secret basement. Juice firing the shotgun as targets exposed themselves coming down.

  CRACK. CRACK.

  CRACK.

  CRACK. CRACK.

  The report of the assault team’s MP7s as they attempted to suppress the target.

  “Come and get some!”

  BOOM.

  BOOM.

  CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

  A new voice spoke. One Mason didn’t recognize.

  “Tango down. Room clear.” The tone was cool and collected. Mason recognized a professional when he heard one. “Sir? Sir, you should get back upstairs. The other rooms are not secure.”

  “Shut up,” another voice screamed. “Where is my daughter? Find her! And I want the Bili chimpanzee! Find them both!”

  Someone screamed. A female.

  “Sir, we found this woman in the bedroom. Looks like a delta.”

  “Give me your pistol!”

  “Sir?”

  “Give it to me!”

  Another scream, female again. Linda.

  “Where is my daughter? Where is the chimp?” the voice shouted.

  “Sir, she can’t understand you.”

  “Shut up! You’re a hired gun, nothing more!”

  Linda moaned and wailed.

  “Tell me where!”

  CRACK.

  Jesus. What happened?

  CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

  “Sir, she’s dead.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know! Like where my daughter is! Where the chimpanzee is!”

  Another operator continued, “Sir, this floor is clear. No sign of Iridia.”

  Iridia? What did she have to do with this?

  “Then where is she? You said the transmissions came from this location.”

  “Sir, over here. A comms station. Looks like this was set up as a relay.”

  “A relay from where?” the voice screamed almost incoherently.

  The voice. Anton Reshenko. Iridia’s father.

  “Sir, what should we do with the bodies?”

  “Why would I care? Get us back to Milagro Tower! Now!”

  “Yes, sir. Alpha Team, let’s go!”

  The voices faded as they moved away from the open mic.

  Mason sat down hard in a chair. He pinched his eyes shut and squeezed his temples attempting to subdue the pounding in his head.

  Juice and Linda were gone.

  And it was his fault for getting them involved.

  All of this because of Iridia and her insane father. He knew he never should’ve accepted the job. He wouldn’t have if anybody but Miro had asked. And even then only because of the debt he owed. When someone risks their own life to save yours, can that ever be repaid?

  Even more, when someone knowingly throws themselves into a situation that isn’t just a risk but is a living hell where their own death is virtually guaranteed, and then somehow manages to pull both of you out of the fire, how can that scale ever be balanced?

  It couldn’t.

  But that didn’t mean that Juice and Linda deserved to be pulled into that unequal equation. And worse, that they paid for it with their lives.

  Mason’s teeth squeaked as his jaws ground together. A fire burned in his chest. A fury that demanded one thing and one thing only.

  Justice.

  Revenge. Whatever the word, the result was the same.

  The death of Anton Reshenko.

  But first, his daughter was in danger. She was the priority.

  Mason ran outside and threw the metal gate open. He was about to run to his backyard when movement several blocks down caught his eye.

  It was them!

  And they were not alone.

  55

  THERESA pedaled as hard as she could. She turned right onto her street. Three blocks down on the left was Ahmed’s house and safety. She flicked the battery accelerator lever all the way right but the bike continued to slow. The charge indicator was a hair above zero. Her thighs and calves burned as she struggl
ed to crank the pedals around and around.

  Sweat dripped into her eyes blurring her vision. She swiped at an eye and nearly lost control of the bike. The exertion had her dizzy and lightheaded.

  “They’re catching up!” Elio yelled.

  Theresa glanced back and a jolt of terror spasmed through her body. A dozen or more deltas were a couple hundred feet behind and gaining fast. She gritted her teeth and struggled to get the pedals moving faster, but it was no use. Without the electric assist, she didn’t have the strength to move all three of them.

  “We’re going to have to run for it!” she shouted. “The bike is done.”

  Maria was in no shape to run anywhere but there was no other choice. They could coast to a stop as both the battery and her legs gave out, or they could run for it and have a better chance than none at all.

  “Now!” Theresa shouted as she slammed on the brakes. They all jumped off and let the bike tumble over. She wrapped one of Maria’s arms over her shoulder while Elio did the same on the other side.

  “Go!” Elio shouted.

  They lumbered forward and managed a stumbling, clumsy movement that turned out little faster than a slow jog.

  Theresa glanced back and wished she hadn’t. “Faster! Faster!” She tried to run faster but the failing strength in her legs more than balanced the adrenaline urging them onward.

  Elio on the other side wasn’t doing any better. His healing injuries made it so that he couldn’t move much faster than Maria.

  The screaming behind grew louder as their pursuers drew closer. Their voices took on an unhinged edge as they realized their prey had no escape. It was only a matter of time.

  And that was only a matter of seconds.

  “Leave me,” Maria said as she wriggled to pull free. “You two go!”

  Elio held her tight and struggled to drag her forward. Just a block and a half away. So close.

  They’d almost made it.

  “I love you, son,” Maria said as they all stumbled to a stop. With one of them no longer trying, they had no chance at continuing forward. “Now, run!”

  Elio shook his head. “Theresa, go!”

  The deltas roared seeing their prey surrender.

  “I won’t leave you, Elio,” Theresa said.

  It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to leave his side. It was also that she couldn’t. She had nothing left. Her forehead burned and her head spun. She glanced at the scratch on her wrist. It had gotten worse. Purple and red splotches surrounded the inflamed scratch. White gunk oozed from blistering pustules. Black veins zigzagged up to her elbow.

  They turned around and watched in horror as the deltas drew near. Their inhuman eyes burned with excitement.

  Theresa glanced at Elio. He faced the deltas with a twisted grimace on his face. He knew it was over, too. They’d come so close to having a future together.

  She closed her eyes, and hoped it would be quick. Not like the man that had been eaten alive.

  “Get down!” a voice shouted from behind. “Get on the ground!”

  Her father!

  Theresa tugged the other two to the pavement as the first few deltas crashed into them.

  Gunshots split the air.

  A huge male pinned Theresa down. His naked chest streaked with the caked blood of previous victims. His eyes blazed with the thrill of the kill. He bared his teeth and lunged for her throat.

  His head snapped back as a fountain of red exploded from behind. He landed like a brick on top of her, knocking the wind out of her lungs.

  She shoved him off and gasped for breath. She rolled and looked back down the street toward her house. Her dad sprinted toward them. A pistol in each hand kicked repeatedly as a continuous barrage of gunfire thundered in her ears. Her mother and Ahmed ran along behind.

  Theresa curled up tight gasping for breath.

  Delta bodies fell around her.

  The next thing she knew, her father ran past them into the broken wave of deltas. His right hand now held a fully extended baton. He tore into them breaking limbs and splitting skulls. Blows and bullets rained down on the frenzied horde.

  “Get up!” her mother shouted as she hauled Theresa to her feet. Ahmed helped Maria up. Elio pushed himself up and they all scrambled toward safety.

  BANG.

  BANG. BANG.

  BANG.

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw her father holding off the attackers as he retreated. He held his own, but barely. Their numbers threatened to overwhelm him again and again.

  Further down the street, another pack of deltas were running in their direction. This one larger, two dozen maybe. Too many definitely. A hunting party drawn to the sounds of struggle.

  Elio’s foot landed wrong and he crashed to the ground.

  “Elio!” Maria shouted as Ahmed continued dragging her along.

  A female delta broke off from those attacking Mason and darted at Elio. She landed on his legs and bit at them.

  Mason swung the baton at the nearest delta hitting it in the temple, knocking it out cold. He raised the pistol in his left hand.

  BANG.

  The female attacking Elio collapsed as blood geysered from her neck splattering onto the pavement.

  Mason dragged Elio up and pushed him back before shooting another delta in the face. Yet another got a baton blow to the collarbone crumpling it into a groaning heap of flesh. He slowed the advance while everyone made it to the open gate and shuffled through.

  “Get everyone inside!” Beth shouted. She looked at Theresa. “Go!” She turned back and drew a pistol from the holster at her hip. She slipped out the open gate and disappeared.

  The front door swung open and Noor stood there with wide eyes. Ahmed hurried Maria and Elio inside.

  BANG. BANG. BANG.

  Theresa ran for the gate. She couldn’t let her mother and father be killed. She wouldn’t. She stumbled toward the gate as the ground tilted back and forth.

  She got to the gate as her mom jumped through.

  “Get inside!” Beth shouted.

  Mason wedged through the opening. Clenched hands grabbed at his shirt. Strips tore free as they tried to pull him back toward death. He slammed the baton down again and again but more and more hands grasped for him.

  Beth shoved her shoulder into the metal gate and slammed it forward.

  Deltas screamed in pain as their limbs crunched between colliding metal.

  Mason broke free and slammed the door shut. He threw the lock and then stuttered a step when he saw the horrific infection on Theresa’s arm. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her toward the front door.

  “Come on!”

  Mason was the last to enter. He slammed the door shut and locked it.

  “Everyone upstairs!” Mason shouted.

  Theresa stumbled upstairs and into Noor’s room. She looked out the front window and watched in horror as the first of the deltas pulled himself up to the top of the wall.

  BANG.

  Theresa’s right ear stabbed into her brain.

  The delta’s head jerked back and he tumbled off the wall.

  Her father pushed her back with his left hand while the pistol in his right waited for another target. “Get away from the window!”

  She stumbled back into Elio’s waiting arms.

  “Ahmed! Get to the window in your room! Don’t let any of them over the perimeter wall!”

  Ahmed sprinted out of the room.

  The next several minutes were a blur of yelling and gunshots. Some of the vocalizations were words and many were not. The volume outside grew louder.

  “They’ve breached the wall,” Mason shouted over the noise.

  Theresa noticed the angle of his pistol aiming much lower now.

  Glass shattered downstairs. Fists pounded on the plywood sheets covering the windows.

  They were trying to get into the house.

  Wood creaked and splintered apart.

  “Fall back to the hall bathroom!”
Mason shouted. He herded everyone out into the hallway. “Go!”

  A groaning wail echoed up the stairway.

  The voice wasn’t muffled like it would’ve been coming from the outside.

  56

  AHMED lined up a shot on the beast that was once a man. The tragic creature sat atop the perimeter wall trying to figure out a way to get down into the courtyard. He had never killed a man, though it had been his primary goal for many years. And now that his wife’s murderer was in his grasp, he’d done nothing. Whether the inaction stemmed from fear or reason, the result was the same.

  He’d never taken a life.

  And so he wondered if he could do so now.

  He curled his finger around the trigger of the old Beretta M1951. The pistol’s worn condition spoke to an active history spent with its previous owner. He had no illusions. He knew the gun had killed before. Likely many times. Black market weapons in Fallujah all came with histories better left unquestioned.

  The gun had undoubtedly killed and it would do so again without remorse.

  The delta slipped down hanging from the wall. Its feet dangling above the ground. The thing came for his daughter. Killing it was all that stood between Noor and a grisly demise.

  His finger tightened on the trigger. He squinted his eyes desperately trying to keep the front sight lined up on the target. His mind screamed, waiting for the gun to fire while also dreading it.

  This was it. The final instant of commitment. A commitment he feared would banish him from the grace of Allah.

  Islam forbade murder.

  Despite what the cursed radicals of his faith spouted to the uneducated masses. They lied to themselves and worse to others that killing in the name of Allah was righteous.

  Ahmed held no such delusion.

  To take another’s life was wrong.

  But what about a human that perhaps was no longer human? And what if this not-quite-human threatened his life? What if it threatened his daughter’s life?

  He glanced back and saw Noor cowering by the door. The naked fear in her eyes hammered him in the gut.

  He turned back to the nightmare outside. His left hand cupped his shaking right. Fighting through the quaking, he re-centered his aim and squeezed the trigger.