The Sixth Extinction America Omnibus [Books 1-12]

by Johnson, Glen

  “Everyone in the truck, we’re leaving,” Lindell shouted.

  102

  Captain Stitt

  Running towards the road

  Just outside New York City

  Everything had gone wrong.

  First, Stitt heard the quiet pops of gunfire up on the hill, and he presumed two of them had been taken care of. That is until Finch started screaming down the radio, calling for help. Then he heard the cries of his death.

  Then Tanner started shouting that the place was overrun with the infected, just before there was a long gurgling noise and the sound of ripping wet meat; then the radio died.

  Then, without giving the order, his other three men, who could hear the same transmissions, opened fire on the barn. They riddled the wooden sides with bullet holes.

  Stitt shouted over the radio for them to get down, to stop firing. The idiots were giving their location away. There was no guarantee they had heard the shots from the farmhouse; he could just about hear them.

  Whoever was left inside the barn answered in kind. The deafening sound of the .50 cal on the jeep shredded one soldier, in a spray of blood and bone fragments. It then changed direction and hit another in the leg, shredding it below the knee and tearing the stomach open.

  Before Stitt could react, a small caliber weapon finished the wounded soldier off.

  He went from the element of surprise, with five armed, highly trained men, down to just one.

  Without hesitation, he called a retreat.

  Stitt knew when he was beat.

  He would take the truck and hide in a nearby field. He predicted they would leave, and it would be soon, because they had been shaken up and didn’t feel safe there anymore. When they did, he will follow them.

  But then a more devious plan jumped into his mind. He ran towards the Chevy. He would need to get down the road ahead of them; he had something to prepare.

  103

  Doctor Bachman, Peter, and Emma

  In the elevator

  The underground bunker

  Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania

  The three of them stood inside the elevator. They were heading towards level 19, and then hopefully make their way to the surface with one of the numerous elevators in the underground city.

  “Surely one of them would be working?” Peter stated.

  Bachman found it hard to read Emma. She seemed cool and collected. But that could just be because she has no real way to show her fear and frustration, except with limited hand signals.

  Whereas it was easy to tell Peters moods, he just didn’t shut up. He was constantly reminding them both of all the ways they could get ripped apart.

  After a minute of graphic evisceration images being described by Peter, Emma spun around and held up a finger. When Peter went to continue, Emma stamped a foot and took a step closer. He got the message – shut the fuck up, or else!

  Peter went quiet – sulking.

  Level 19 was getting close.

  “Keep it down, when we get outside the lift. No shouting. Only talk if you need to.” He looked at Peter. Not that their voices carried very far from inside the suits. But even still, better safe than sorry.

  “Stay behind me and do what I do. If I crouch – crouch. If I stop – stop. If I run, try to keep up.”

  They both nodded.

  The light on level 19 lit up. Bachman kept his finger on the close button while he took a few deep breaths.

  He tried to remember as much as he could from the map. A long tunnel leading into the Science Block, a large six-story building.

  “Right on three. One… Two… Three.” He released the button and the elevator door swished open revealing a long stark concrete corridor.

  In all the excitement, he realized he had left his small fire extinguisher behind.

  Bachman took the lead. There was nowhere to hide and only one exit that was right at the end of the corridor that was forty feet long; if he remembered the map correctly.

  Bachman started down the length of the tunnel. He hoped like hell that nothing came from the other direction.

  104

  Terrance, and the others

  In the truck

  Just outside New York City

  As soon as they secured everyone in the container, and told them to lie as flat as possible, in case of gunfire, Terrance and Lindell climbed into the jeep. Without bothering to reverse, Troy punched the truck though the back wall of the old barn. With an avalanche of broken wood, the truck shot through. The jeep bounced along behind flicking mud into the air.

  The rain poured down in sheets. Thunder rumbled, and lightning lit up the thick cloud layer.

  As soon as they were free from the building, Lindell raced around in front of the truck, to lead the way. The jeep slid through the thick wet mud. Lindell wrestled for control. His muscles strained.

  Both vehicles skidded and fought against the mud as they sped towards the road.

  Terrance kept an eye out for the soldiers. He was sure it was Captain Stitt. He had a gut feeling the man had survived and was after revenge. He realized they must have a vehicle of some kind in order to have found them. There was plenty in the town to pick from.

  It has to be Stitt, or at least some of his men. What are the chances there would be two renegade soldier units in the same area? Terrance wondered.

  He watched every bend and tree covering for a dark silhouette, with his hands ready on the weapon – finger poised over the trigger, as cold rain-washed down over the metal. It ran into his eyes and filled his mouth. He was soaked to the bone, and chilled to the marrow. His hands were shaking, along with the rest of his numb body.

  Terrance wondered how the soldiers escaped. We did, why couldn’t they? he reasoned.

  As if they didn’t have enough trouble already, without the soldiers chasing after them.

  There can’t be that many left. If there were, they wouldn’t have retreated so quickly. They have probably run off to lick their wounds. It’s not the last we will see of them, he predicted.

  The Jeep skidded onto the road, with a squeal of tires. The truck bounced along behind, with the container swaying on its brackets, with a jarring metal screech.

  The lights lanced through the darkness, illuminating the rain in cones of brightness.

  With a grinding of gears, the truck sped along behind the sleek jeep. Two large metal objects cantering along the deserted road. They had to watch out for abandoned vehicles that littered the verges.

  The rain was so hard and thick, and it was so dark they couldn’t see any further than their beams of light. So when Lindell sped around the next corner, so fast he almost tipped the jeep, he had no time to react when he found a Chevy truck parked horizontally across the lanes.

  105

  Doctor Bachman, Peter, and Emma

  In the corridor connecting the bunkers

  The underground bunker

  Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania

  Bachman was sweating. He could feel it on his face and running down his back. He was stood in front of the metal door that joined the two bunkers together.

  This was the moment of truth. Would the door open? If it did, was there anything dangerous on the other side? If there was, they had no time to retreat. They would have to try to close the door and hope whatever was out there couldn’t get in. There was no way the three of them could outrun anything up the corridor toward the elevator, not in the bulky suits.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready,” Peter said, while gulping loudly.

  Emma tapped his shoulder for an affirmative.

  Bachman turned the handle. Nothing happened.

  Shit!

  He scanned the wall to either side. There was a large button. Just a button. No hand or retina scanner, no key pad, just a large round silver button. He whacked it. The door hissed open.

  It opened up in a circular room with two doors. Above each was a sign. Social Sciences. Natural Sciences. It was the two main groups of
science. The building must be separated into different groups. It didn’t matter which one they picked; they weren’t here to study, or look around; they just wanted to find a way out.

  There were no windows in the circular room. Bachman didn’t know if they were still inside the mountain, or out cocooned under it.

  Bachman slowly opened the closest door. Natural Sciences. There was another smaller circular room. This one had three doors. Physical Science. Earth Science. Life Science.

  Jesus, it’s a fucking maze!

  He hoped this trend didn’t carry on. He knew there were at least ten sub categories that could branch off from these subjects.

  He pushed through Physical Science.

  This time it was a corridor that ran to a large room, with a reception desk and chairs lined up, like in a doctor’s surgery.

  Why this room was here; Bachman didn’t care. All he cared about was it was empty of anything living or dead. However, there was enough blood, bone fragments, and tufts of hair, and globs of flesh to show what had happened. The smaller pods must have rounded the tentacle creatures up.

  Were they herding them all to the surface? Why bother, there were plenty of humans left outside to infect? It didn’t make sense to him. Unless they somehow knew there was an army stationed right outside, and they were taking an army to defend themselves? He also knew that once the biological alarm was raised, the soldiers wouldn’t enter the mountain until someone inside gave an all clear. Every weapon outside was pointed at the bunker.

  But at that moment, none of that mattered. He was just content with the fact that the pods weren’t around to find them.

  “Fuck me, I’m sweating bullets!” Peter said.

  “Shhh!” Bachman hissed.

  They both stayed behind him even though there was room to spread out.

  Bachman realized they were probably hoping that if anything did charge around the corner that he would protect them.

  If anything did attack, it would simply mean I will die first, and they will get the chance to witness it before they are ripped apart after.

  As well as the gore, the place was destroyed. Mostly from the exploding bodies, but also when the thrashing creatures exited. Streaks of blood announced where they slithered out.

  There was a large sign on the wall describing what departments were linked around in different sections.

  None of them interested Bachman, he just wanted to get out and find a means to get to the surface.

  On one wall were large windows, with the artificial light pouring in, from the powerful triphospor bulbs. From the advantage point, Bachman could see the city under the high dome. A vast array of towering structures filled the skyline – a feat of human ingenuity. He realized he was on the fifth floor.

  Below, on a large grass area that connected a collection of buildings together was hundreds of tentacled creatures that were being herded by the smaller pods. More were joining them from different directions. And up ahead, leading them all was the large original pod, taking them to the central elevator that could carry hundreds at once up to the surface. And swirling up around the top of the towering domed ceiling, like a massive storm tempest, was a thick black cloud of spores, churning and boiling, ready to be released; ready to bring a different kind of strain to the world of man.

  106

  Terrance, Lindell, Troy, Alex, and the others

  In the truck and jeep

  Just outside New York City

  The jeep screech as Lindell slammed on the brakes. It still hit the parked Chevy, but Lindell managed to swerve and just clip the side, spinning the Chevy slightly.

  However, Troy’s reflexes weren’t as fast, and the old truck’s brakes weren’t as good. The heavy truck slammed straight into the parked vehicle, sending it spinning onto its roof, and then it pushed it along with a screeching of metal and a shower of sparks, as the large truck’s brakes juddered.

  Just when it couldn’t get worse, gunfire opened up, spraying the jeep and truck.

  Terrance was shaken, and his arm was hurting where it was jarred to the side. But he managed to hold on as the jeep skidded to a halt. How he wasn’t thrown from the jeep, he would never know. But as soon as it stopped, he swung the .50 cal around and started pouring bullets into the direction the gunfire originated.

  The truck finally juddered to a grinding halt. The Chevy was pushed over onto the verge. It was lucky the gas tank wasn’t pierced.

  No one climbed from the cab. Possibly staying inside due to the gunfire.

  The only light was cones of brightness piercing the darkness from the two vehicles’, which showed the pouring rain. Flashes of lightning illuminated everything in snapshots.

  Bullets pinged along the side of the truck. Luckily, the thick metal protected those inside. The passenger-side window of the truck shattered. The door was riddled with holes.

  “Turn the lights off,” Lindell shouted to Troy, as he turned the jeeps off. Within seconds, the trucks went off and the whole area was plunged into complete darkness and silence.

  107

  Captain Stitt

  On the side of the road

  Just outside New York City

  Stitt was sure this would work. There was only one way they could head once they left the barn. He was sure they wouldn’t backtrack. So he sped ahead, and found the first sharp corner. He parked across the road, hoping they would still be in a state of panic and come racing round the corner.

  He was right.

  Stitt sat in the cold, waiting behind a thick bush in the pouring rain. His one remaining soldier, Jackson, was on the other side of the road down a bit so their crossfire wouldn’t hit each other.

  Hatred is a powerful motivator. Even though he was numb from the cold, and shaking from near hypothermia, his mind was still sharp.

  I will wait all night if I have to.

  But it wasn’t long before he could hear them racing at full throttle, supposedly away from the danger.

  Everything else happened so quickly. The jeep and truck then slammed into the Chevy. Before he knew it, he was spraying them with bullets. And he found himself shouting abuse as he gripped the trigger.

  Just as quickly, things changed. The lights went out, and everything was plunged into darkness.

  Stitt was standing up; he was staring down the barrel of his weapon into the darkness. All he needed was one-barrel flare to give their location away. The only problem was he was sure they were waiting for the same thing.

  108

  Doctor Bachman, Peter, and Emma

  The main science block

  The underground bunker

  Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania

  “Shit, they are all heading for the surface!” Peter shouted with his two rubber gloved hands resting against the window.

  “Fuck, look at the size of that bitch!” he stated, while pointing at the large front pod.

  Bachman watched the creatures head away from them. And all the while the vast churning cloud of black spores was growing from lines worming their way from the buildings up to merge together.

  While he stood there, studying the scene, he had an epiphany. Why bother with heading toward the surface when the world is already dying? If the pods and their entourage left, then they could close the bunker off sealing them out, as it was originally designed to do. There was enough provisions to last the three of them a hundred lifetimes.

  “How are we going to get passed them?” Peter questioned.

  “We’re not!”

  He could feel them both turn to look at him.

  He explained his idea.

  At first, they both digested the information.

  Emma was the first to reply – in a fashion. She started to shake her head. Well, the whole top half of the hazmat suit.

  “I’m with Emma. What about our families?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Know? Know what?”

  “When was the last time you had any news from the surface?” He go
t a sinking feeling.

  “About three weeks, give or take a day or so,” Peter said.

  “You have no idea of what’s been happening?”

  “Happening? There was a scare of some sort, some kind of virus. I presumed it was nothing, just like all the other scares. Just the media blowing it all out of proportion.” Peter sounded worried. His statement was more of a question.

  “It was our worse nightmare. A pandemic that swept the globe within days. Tens of millions were infected. Who knows how many are left now, three weeks later?”

  He couldn’t comprehend that they were so in the dark.

  “What about the creatures in the glass chambers. The naked infected?” he asked.

  “We were never told what they are,” Peter stated.

  “Fuck me!” Bachman made a laughing grunting sound. “You just ignored them? Fucking naked people with deformed faces and throats!” He looked at both in turn.

  “No! They were just a few who got infected. They would have told us. Warned us. Let us go to our families!” Peter’s upper body sagged.

  “And die with them? The likelihood is everyone you know and love is already dead, or like them – kind of.” He pointed at the creatures making their way behind a building.

  Emma lunged at him, hitting the suits viewport. None of the punches were very hard, due to the inflated suit. She took a few steps and then sank onto her knees, with her hands resting upon the floor.

  Bachman didn’t have to look; he knew she would be crying. Who could blame her? He felt like crying himself. He gave her space. They were safe for now; the creatures were preoccupied with reaching the surface.

  “But if there’s a chance, even a slim one, we gotta try and reach them,” Peter pleaded.

  He tried reason. He decided to put everything on the table.