The Sixth Extinction America Omnibus [Books 1-12]

by Johnson, Glen

  What the fuck?

  The General grasped in fear. He forced a hand over his mouth, to stop anymore-involuntary cries.

  It was deadly silent outside.

  It’s gone! Whatever it is, it’s gone! He sagged with relief.

  Lockwood’s eyes were glued to the door with its holes and running blood. Then, seeping through slowly was a dribble of black spores. They ran up the door, gathering on the ceiling.

  No! No! It can’t be? How?

  He fumbled open some drawers looking for a gasmask he knew was around there somewhere. He found it in the large bottom drawer. He quickly pulled it on.

  Then, with the sound of splintering wood, the black spike punched through the door. However, this time, instead of pulling it out, it dragged the appendage down, ripping the door asunder. Whatever it was; it was making its way into the office.

  83

  Captain Stitt

  In a car on the highway

  Just outside New York City

  Stitt could see the truck had stopped. He could see the two men exit the cab and one wander to the grass and throw up. He could see one of the muscular black brothers climb into the back with the younger man. But he couldn’t see what they were doing inside, his point of view was all wrong. He gripped the binoculars harder.

  He could hear a grumble from the man beside him who was getting his face sown up.

  Once Stitt knew the jeep, and tank were useless, without a lot of work being carried out, he led the men to his personal vehicle, one he had acquired for himself, a 4X4 black Chevy Truck. The only problem was, only three fitted comfortably inside. Three men had to sit in the flat bed, exposed.

  In all the excitement, the group in the truck and jeep couldn’t see the Chevy parked on the off ramp, stalking them, waiting. It looked like one of the many abandoned vehicles littering the side of the highway. The three in the back were crouched down.

  Stitt could have attacked then and there, but one of the brothers was stood behind the .50 caliber machinegun. He knew they would be cut to ribbons by the large bullets in mere seconds. Game over.

  He decided to play the long game. Watch and wait. He would follow at a distance and wait for them to settle down for the night. When darkness fell, he would send in his men, and between them, they would get their revenge. They wouldn’t escape him a second time.

  84

  Doctor Bachman

  Maintenance warehouse

  The underground bunker

  Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania

  The elevator stopped. Bachman was suddenly aware that he had no weapon. It just never occurred to him up until that moment. Whatever he faced beyond the sliding doors; he would face with his suit only. He hoped it was enough.

  As the doors swished open, he found himself stepping out into a bloodbath.

  He could see no natural light, so he presumed the elevator didn’t go all the way to the surface.

  There was an alarm blaring, which was louder now he had stepped out of the elevator.

  The room he found himself in was large. It was some kind of mechanical bay. There is shelving full of equipment, and spares. Forklift trucks were to one side to help maneuver the heavier items. Thick cables, metal drums, crates, and pallets filled the warehouse-sized chamber to capacity – everything needed to keep the bunker running for decades without any assistance from the surface.

  Then his eyes fell upon what he tried to ignore. Corpses – lots of corpses. Bits of bodies – bodies splattered, smeared, and tossed all around the chamber, and hanging from shelves, and dripping into puddles of congealing blood.

  He had no idea how many bodies he could see. Over half of them were growing roots, providing more spores. They could have been ripped apart or blown apart, he couldn’t tell.

  There was only death here.

  Bachman scanned the room, looking for an exit. Then something caught his eye. He spun his body to get a better look out the view port. In the distance, about twenty-five shelve units away was a small pod. It scurried along the concrete floor. Then it stopped dead in its tracts.

  He didn’t know how they sensed, or could see things, but he had the feeling the pod was watching him – studying him, waiting for him to make a move.

  Bachman shifted a foot, moving one-step backwards.

  The pod lifted one of its ten legs in the air, waiting… judging.

  Bachman started walking backwards. He hoped the elevator was still open, because he couldn’t see behind him.

  The pod shot forward at an amazing rate of speed, heading straight for him. Its spindly, armored legs clicked on the concrete. It was so fast it was a blur.

  He realized the elevator doors had closed when his back hit it.

  Bachman slammed a hand against the button. He kept hitting it, while not taking his eyes off the pod.

  All the while, the pod was charging right at him.

  Slowly, like tectonic plates the doors slid open. He fell backwards through them as he unconsciously pushed back. He kicked his legs along the ground with all his might to allow the doors to close. In his haste, and speed, he slammed into the rear wall with such force; he banged his head into the metal. The inflated suit saved his skull and neck, but it didn’t stop him from being knocked unconscious.

  The pod was gaining ground. Its speed was amazing. It closed the distance.

  The elevator doors slowly started to close.

  The pod was a mere three meters away. As the doors started to swish closer together, it propelled itself through the air, flying for the small gap.

  85

  Alex, and everyone else

  In the truck, on the side of the highway

  Just outside New York City

  The truck followed the jeep, keeping at a safe distance in case Terrance needed to use the machine gun.

  It was starting to get dark.

  Alex had no idea what the time was. Not that it really mattered. He noticed a clock on the dash, near Troy.

  4:53 PM.

  He looked at the space where Juan had sat. He was now gone, a casualty of the war between the spores and mankind.

  They would have to pull over soon, to try to find a safe location for the night. They had been traveling for an hour since leaving the nightmare of a town. He hoped Jessica was okay. They had no choice but to keep going.

  Half an hour back they had a scare.

  They eventually found a route to bypass the town. It was a shame they didn’t try it first, but they had no reason to believe it would be a trap.

  The roads were small, and less crowded, but the tree line was closer, so they had to be more alert. This was brought home when the jeep must have passed too close to a Popper that must have been hidden down in the undergrowth. Luckily, both vehicles had been going quite fast, so after the jeep set it off, the truck was already passed by the time the bloated body exploded. The cloud of spores and blood and gore sprayed across the road.

  With the holes in the truck, they were lucky they weren’t traveling slower, because the spores would have filled the container through all the holes punched by the shrapnel.

  Now they drove as fast as possible in the center of the road or street they were on.

  The city limits had long gone, given way to farmsteads and isolated houses and horizon stretching rolling fields and some dense woodland.

  Alex was aware that there were no cows or sheep to be seen, or birds flying in the sky. Everything seemed like it was either dead or hiding.

  The world is vacant.

  The roads were empty. In an hour, they saw no other vehicles. No one walking. There was no smoke from fires, nothing. The world was desolate; an empty cocoon ready for whatever came next.

  Lindell honed in on a large red barn that perched in the middle of a field. The crops long gone, leaving the ground churned, waiting for a time to be sowed – which would never happen.

  The jeep bumped over the verge, into the field. It was slow going. The rain turned the field into a quagmire. The
jeep skidded and wheel spun.

  Lindell was worried they might get stuck, and he was foolish for attempting to cross the muddy patch of ground.

  However, with persistence, and effort, the jeep and truck managed to cross the field.

  With Terrance behind the gun, Alex, Lindell, and Troy circled the barn with weapons raised. They left the others in the container until they were sure the place was clear of Eaters and Poppers.

  Alex was sure there were no Eaters; else they would have charged out when they heard the engines. But Poppers were different.

  Slowly, and carefully, they checked the barn and surrounding collection of buildings. They ignored the house, which was way up on the knoll of a nearby hill. When they were sure it was safe they pulled open the large barn doors and drove the vehicles inside, and secured the doors again.

  When they stood and waited for the door of the container to open, they found that they had a body to bury, but not the one they were expecting.

  86

  Captain Stitt

  In a truck on the highway

  Just outside New York City

  It was difficult to follow the truck without being seen, especially when everyone was so alert. Several times Stitt was sure he had lost them, only to catch the glint of dull, fading sun off metal.

  Then they passed the exploded Popper. The spores sailed off, looking for victims. All that was left was a spray of blood and gore that spread across the road.

  About an hour into the slow pursuit, Stitt watched as the two vehicles drove off the road and into a field, heading for a large red, old-fashioned barn.

  The barn was isolated, apart from a few outbuildings. It would be difficult to sneak up on those inside until after dark. There was no cover due to the open muddy field, but at night, a person covered from head to toe in mud would blend right in.

  87

  Doctor Bachman

  Inside an elevator

  The underground bunker

  Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania

  Bachman slowly came to. Then his body jerked when everything flooded back.

  The lights flickered back on. They went off due to lack of movement.

  He quickly pulled himself into the sitting position. He scanned what little of the suit he could see. No rips. And the fact he wasn’t shredded to pieces and turned into a puddle of blood and bones was testament to the fact the pod never managed to get inside.

  Could it still be out there, waiting? Unlike the large pod, it doesn’t have the strength to get through the thick metal doors.

  He had no idea how long he was out for. He checked the air supply.

  It was empty.

  Shit!

  The air tasted different, scrubbed.

  Then he felt something uncomfortable. While he was unconscious, he had urinated. The right leg of the Nomex jumpsuit was wet, and it had run into his right foot, soaked up by his sock, due to having nowhere else to go. It then dawned on him why the air tasted slightly different. There was nothing he could do; he had to live with it.

  He also had no reference to the time, so he didn’t know how long he had been unconscious for. With difficulty, he turned the ring for his left hand and released the inside glove. He pulled his arm in and tried to read his watch through his misted gasmask.

  5:17 PM.

  Jesus! I’ve been unconscious for over an hour.

  It dawned on him that if the air scrubber hadn’t automatically kicked in when the air ran out, he would have suffocated. He would never have woken up.

  Is that a bad thing? He wondered.

  Years ago, he was rushed in for surgery when his appendix burst. He had never known pain like it. One minute he was withering on the hospital bed, crying out for more painkillers, then the next, when he was prepped for surgery, and the injection was administered to his intravenous catheter; he had drifted into complete oblivion.

  One doctor later told him, it was, “The best sleep you will never remember.” And he was right. He had no recollection of anything until he came around in the recovery room, hours later.

  If death was like that, and he had simply slipped away, he wouldn’t of known any different.

  However, he was awake and he was crunched up in the corner of an elevator. He only had one choice, to go down a level. He didn’t want to risk opening the door and have the pod rush in.

  Slowly, he got to his knees and leaned against the metal wall while he climbed to his unsteady feet.

  He was so unbelievably tired.

  It occurred to him that if he hadn’t checked inside the pod chamber, and put on the suit; he would be dead like everyone else in the bunker.

  He put it out of his mind and pressed the button so the lift would take him down one level. This time, he decided; he would stand inside the elevator and scan the room before getting out.

  88

  Naomi, and everyone else

  In the truck, in a barn

  Just outside New York City

  Naomi couldn’t believe what she had just witnessed. She stood up against the metal wall just staring. She had to catch her balance, because the truck was rocking about wildly. She wasn’t aware they were driving through a muddy field towards a barn that would hopefully provide protection.

  She had just witnessed someone die.

  Jessica was still unconscious and resting on Bonnie’s leg, with Frank fussing around them.

  Tierra sat wedged in a corner hugging her son. Naomi had noticed she had been almost smothering him since they left the town, as if afraid someone else might snatch him from her.

  The problem was Cody.

  For a long while, after he tried to get the key for the padlock, he then lay motionless, as if having accepted his wife’s fate. However, five minutes ago he got up and unsteadily walked over to the priest while tears streaked his thin, pale face. He knelt down and surprised Frank by grabbing Frank’s hand and putting it on his head, as if in a blessing. He then mumbled something about forgiveness.

  Frank was a little unsure what Cody was expecting, so he started to recite a prayer of comfort that he had used for some of his older parishioners when their partner had passed away.

  “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

  As he spoke, Cody gripped his hand, pressing it down hard.

  Then, when the priest had finished Cody climbed to his feet, made the sign of the cross, then turned as if on a turntable, poked out his tongue as far as he could, placed his hands behind his back, and then tipped forward.

  Naomi saw it all as if in slow motion. She thought people’s natural instinct was to thrust their hands out to stop themselves. She had never seen anything like it.

  Cody tipped forward, with his hands gripped behind his back, and his eyes closed tight, and he fell right on his face. He bit right through his tongue. He then rolled onto his back, with his hands still gripped tight behind him. He thrashed and made a horrendous gurgling sound, as he choked on his own tongue and blood.

  Bonnie screamed and looked away; hugging Jessica, as if her unconscious body would give her comfort.

  Tierra turned her son away so he wouldn’t see, and held her hands over his ears, so he couldn’t hear Cody drowning in his own blood.

  Frank was quickly by his side, but Cody refused to open his mouth, and kept his teeth clenched tight, with spurts of blood shooting through the gaps. Frank tried to roll him over, to get him into the recovery position, but Cody kicked him away. Within only a minute Cody was going limp. His mouth opened and blood poured out, covering his chest. His eyes rolled back, and his chest went still. He was dead.

  Frank made the sign of the cross.

  89

  Alex, and everyone else

  In the barn

  Just outside New York City

  Alex could hear screaming and crying from in
side the container. But there was no way in, unless they were let in.

  Lindell and Alex banged on the metal door. Something was happening inside.

  Troy stood to one side watching.

  Why are they screaming? If Jessica had died, they would be crying, but screaming? Someone sounded scared. But how, nothing can get inside? Alex thought as he slammed on the door.

  Then the chain rattled and the door opened a fraction. Naomi jumped out. She was pale, and muttering a long line of profanities. She pushed passed them both and headed outside into the fresh air, while shaking her head.

  Lindell swung open the door.

  Tierra was climbing down with Dante. Alex helped her.

  Troy offered to take Dante while Tierra climbed down. By the looks on her face, you would think he asked if she wanted him to skin her son and toss him on a fire.

  Tierra struggled down, then pushed passed Troy as if he had deeply offended her.

  Neither woman said what the problem was; so Alex and Lindell still didn’t know what the commotion was about.

  The truck was at a slight angle – the barn floor was packed earth, and uneven. Blood dribbled out the back door, splattering down next to their feet.

  What the…? Alex thought.

  Then as Alex climbed up inside, and he saw where the blood was coming from – Cody’s still, twisted body.

  Lindell climbed in behind him. They both stood staring at Cody, with blood pooling around his head, with bubbles popping on his blood-covered lips.

  Bonnie was crying.

  She will be crying even more when she finds out about her brother, Alex thought.

  Frank was leaning against the metal wall. “H-h-he knelt in front of me… I-I guess asking for a b-blessing. He then turned and fell onto his face!” Frank stuttered, shocked at what he had just witnessed. Incomprehension showing on his face. “He did it on purpose!”