The Sixth Extinction America Omnibus [Books 1-12]

by Johnson, Glen

  Stu turned his attention back to the smoke. They were getting closer, but the thick black smoke seemed to be pouring out of the water. There was no sign of the massive container ship.

  Shit! It couldn’t have sunk. Could it?

  As the boat slowed and nudged forward, they could see bodies floating in the water. However, it was obvious these weren’t their friends. Dark dressed strangers drifted past.

  Wreckage floated in burning pools of fuel. Flotsam bobbed on the waves along with the bodies.

  “What happened here?” Soozie questioned.

  “And where is the container ship? This was about where I left it. I think,” Stu stated.

  “Help us,” a weak voice cut through their conversation.

  “Jesus, there’re still people alive,” Stu muttered.

  As he slowly nudged the boat through the flotsam and as far from the patches of burning fuel and dense smoke as he could, a group of six people could be seen gripping a section of floating wood.

  Stu noticed they were also all in dark clothes, and were all men.

  “Thank God someone heard our cries,” one man said.

  Stu kept the boat at a distance.

  Something doesn’t feel right. Yes, they’re clinging to a piece of a sunken ship, but why? What happened?

  “What happened here?” Stu called.

  “Please, it’s s-s-so c-cold. Help us out of t-the w-water. Please! We will answer all the q-q-questions you w-want.” They were all huddled close to the makeshift raft.

  Soozie was having a bad feeling too. “Something’s not right here,” she muttered out of the side of her mouth.

  Just as Stu was going to back away, and make sure they answered all their questions first, there was a loud splash and the men were raising weapons out of the water and pointing them in their direction.

  “Bring the boat closer,” the man who seemed to be in command said. He was no longer stuttering with the cold.

  Stu was aware the bullets would rip the hard-sided inflatable craft to pieces if he tried to throttle up and get away. Not to mention their soft flesh.

  “Will those weapon still work if they have been underwater?” Stu said aiming the question at Soozie.

  However, it was the obvious leader of the group who replied. “Do you really want to find out?”

  271

  Bachman, Emma, Ralph and Pete

  Zone 6

  The underground bunker

  Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania

  Bachman stood to one side with the axe raised, waiting for Ralph to open the thick door.

  Behind them, the sound of creatures trying to batter down the door they entered from continued.

  Ralph slowly pulled down on the handle. The sound of the squeaking metal made them all arch their shoulders. He then leaned in close and gave the door a shove, just enough to get it to open an inch, so he could stare through.

  Thank God it’s not locked; Bachman thought.

  The smell of Pete’s bloodstained clothes irritated Bachman’s nostrils. However, the smell of dried gore was the least of his worries at the moment.

  The tension in the small concrete chamber could be cut with a knife.

  “Well?” Emma hissed from behind.

  “I’m checking…” Ralph muttered. He inched open the door a little further. Then swung it right open. “Quickly, over to that squat building,” Ralph said pointing to a concrete bunker type structure surrounded by trees. In the distance, there were tall buildings that housed the soldiers.

  Just then, a loud noise filled the chamber – the door they had entered, down on the tracks, had given way under the onslaught.

  The others moved out without saying a word, knowing the creatures would take a few minutes to climb the steep steps.

  Ralph pushed the door shut.

  Can they open handles? Do they remember how? Bachman thought when he saw the short, stocky man close the door behind them.

  Ralph checked the surrounding area for anything to wedge the door closed. There was nothing.

  The group raced across the street and into the squat building through a double door.

  “This is Zone 6s mess hall,” Pete stated as they looked around.

  There was little destruction in the building, and just a couple of patches of blood splatter, where a few people were caught eating.

  There was food still on a few plates. They made their way through to the kitchen.

  “Bingo,” Emma said.

  As they expected, the place was well stocked and apparently, there was no one in the kitchen section when the spores poured through the building.

  There were large pots resting on the side, looking like the chef was waiting for them to cool down so they could be stored. They smelt safe to eat. The room was quite cold, so the food hadn’t started to turn bad.

  “Mmmm…” Bachman muttered as he used the large ladle to spoon some into his mouth. “Beef curry.”

  Emma pulled Coke cans from a tray and placed them on a counter.

  “The sugar will do us some good,” she announced. She popped one open and downed it in one. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and muffled a burp.

  “Bread,” Ralph said as he carried the tray over to the beef curry pot. “Not too hard.”

  “Wash your hands before they go anywhere near the food,” Emma said to Pete.

  Pete walked over to a large chrome sink on the other side of the room. He stripped off his clothes down to his boxers and splashed water all over himself, and he used the dish soap to lather himself up. He then used a dishcloth to dry himself as best he could, and then he pulled on some chef whites that were hanging up – trousers and a white tee shirt. He had to roll the trouser legs up, and they were a little baggy, but is was much better than blood kedged clothing. He kicked the clothes under the sink.

  The others were ripping the bread up and soaking up the beef curry.

  Pete joined them, as they stood around moaning and groaning at the phenomenal taste and actually getting some food in their stomachs.

  “Taste like heaven,” Emma muttered with a mouthful.

  They ate and drank their fill.

  Bachman found a container and filled it with the curry, as well as some cans of fizzy drink. He stuffed it into a backpack that was resting on the counter after he tipped out the magazine, jumper and iPod. He swung it onto his back.

  They all grabbed a few more bread rolls and ate as they started to head back out.

  Then a loud bang made them jump. The muffled banging continued. It was coming from the walk-in chiller.

  272

  Naomi and Cain

  Down inside the hull of the cargo ship

  Somewhere off the shore in New York State

  The man called Cain pushed Naomi into the hatch as it swung shut behind them. She stumbled and fell to the deck. She caught herself with her outstretched arms. Luckily, she didn’t break a collarbone on impact.

  Naomi was pulled to her feet.

  Outside, in the corridor they just exited, she could hear gunfire and muffled shouting.

  Are they shooting at us? I can understand why they would want to shoot the stranger, but they might hit me!

  “Keep moving,” Cain snarled.

  “Jesus, give a woman a break will ya?”

  He ignored her complaints as he continued to pull her along.

  Naomi realized they were now inside one of the main holds. They wormed their way around the stacked up pallets of netted boxes, which towered above them.

  Only a little light arched down from ports high above, giving just enough light to guide the way.

  Naomi’s breathing was fast and panicked. She was waning.

  “I need a break,” she said.

  “You will get all the rest you’ll ever need once we reach our destination.” He chuckled.

  She didn’t like the sound of ‘you’ll ever need,’ it sounded permanent. His demented laughter didn’t help.

  There was a strange sme
ll down here as well. Not mould so much, but musky. It irritated her nostrils. She rubbed them hard.

  What I wouldn’t give for one good hit right now, to dull the nerves. She gulped and licked her lips. I’d probably even kiss this guy if he had anything on him. She realized how desperate she sounded, but she didn’t care.

  The man who called himself Cain was muttering to himself.

  Crazy ass, bastard! She thought.

  Sweat ran down her face, and covered her whole body – just as much from the lack of drugs as it was from the exertion.

  I have to try to get away. If the others reach us, they’ll start shooting again. Fuck, I’m the biggest target. I wouldn’t put it past them to try to hit me as well.

  As they rounded another series of towering stacked pallets, Naomi twisted and shouted, “Fuck you, fucktard!” and then she shrugged off his vice-like grip, and pushed him into a stack of pallets as she made a break for it.

  273

  Alex and Terrance

  Down inside the cargo ship

  Somewhere off the shore in New York State

  Alex jerked and blinked every time the weapon went off in his hand, as he pointed it over Terrance’s head. However, he got the feeling he was wasting bullets. The distance was too far. None of Troy’s bullets reached them, so the likelihood that his was having any effect was slim. The sound of ricocheting bullets pinged down the corridor.

  Why the fuck is Troy shooting at us? Surely, his eyesight isn’t that bad? Alex thought.

  Just then, the firing stopped, and it sounded like there was a scuffle going on.

  Alex could just about make out another figure had tackled Troy from behind, and from the colour of the waving hair, and lack of proper winter clothes, it looked like Mollee.

  Troy went down hard, face first.

  Alex could hear his body hit the metal deck.

  “Jesus,” Terrance muttered. He stood and together they raced down the metal passageway.

  They reached the prone figure of Troy just at the same time as Lindell did from the other direction.

  Mollee stood over the body.

  Lindell knelt down and rolled Troy over.

  Troy was bleeding from the nose and a cut on his top lip.

  Lindell checked the body. “He’s still breathing.”

  “I only knocked him out,” Mollee muttered.

  “Good job he was concentrating on us, and he never heard you coming,” Terrance said.

  “Why the hell was he shooting at us?” Terrance asked.

  “That’s a good question, and after we have rescued Naomi, and put the infected man out of his misery, we will be sure to come back and ask Troy that very same question.”

  “We haven’t got time to drag him back; we will leave him here,” Lindell stated as he picked up Troy’s weapon. He offered it to Mollee.

  She simple shook her head.

  Alex searched Troy for any other weapons. He found a pocketknife. He slid it into his back pocket. “He’s clean,” Alex said.

  With a last look at Troy to make sure he was well and truly unconscious; Terrance slowly opened the hatch Naomi and the stranger had disappeared inside of.

  “This leads to one of the large holds. Stick together this time, we don’t want to accidentally shoot each other,” Lindell said.

  As Terrance slowly closed the hatch, to try and not make is squeak, off, in the distance, they could hear Naomi screaming.

  274

  Smokie and the others

  Inside the superstructure of the cargo ship

  Somewhere off the shore in New York State

  Smokie couldn’t pull herself away from the window. She had to know what the people would become. She was aware of the different stages of the original strain, but she could tell this was already going to be different, purely because the delivery system had changed.

  She watched as the bodies withered on the metal walkway. Within only a matter of ten minutes small black growths had started to appear over there exposed flesh. These grew into scaly armour-like protrusions. The undulating sack on the back of the incest-like creature attached to their chests had swollen to about the size of a football, and then it seemed to deflate. Smokie got the feeling the substance was being pumped into the host victim through the eye socket, directly into the brain.

  She could hear Frank muttering beside her. However, it didn’t sound like a prayer; it simply sounded like he was talking to himself.

  Is he losing it, just like Troy has? However, she had more urgent things to worry about than a crazy, hung-over priest.

  “Look at their fingers,” Gordon stated.

  The nails hardened and turned black, while also extending to almost an inch long.

  “Look at their mouths,” someone else muttered before breaking off into a whimper.

  Smokie stared at the closest body. She could see the extended jaw line as it started to jut out. Bones shifted and rolled under the skin. Muscles swelled as she watched. Black pus dribbled from the persons black, peeling back lips, as long teeth protruded outwards. She watched as the sagittal suture spilt open along the top of the skull and black bony looking horns started to grow out like a crop of mushrooms through the hair, which was starting to fall out in clumps.

  This is fast. Before is would start with itchy eyes, then a coma, then creatures capable of attack, which took between three days and a week. But this has all happened within twenty minutes.

  Long black horn-like protrusions started to rip through the clothing, all over the body.

  They are growing protective armour; like a beetle, she thought.

  Smokie could hear crying behind her.

  She had to put a stop to this now.

  Will bullets even penetrate the black scales? We have to kill them now, before they start moving.

  Just as she thought that, the closest creature lying on the walkway opened its eyes. They were dark black pits, like chunks of obsidian, completely devoid of anything remotely human.

  Then in a supernatural feat, the creature slammed its arms down onto the walkway, propelling itself into the standing position.

  Behind it, the others were also getting to their feet.

  Fuck!

  “Incoming!” Smokie shouted as the first creature punched through the metal hatch as if it was made of cardboard.

  275

  Troy

  Down inside the hull of the cargo ship

  Somewhere off the shore in New York State

  Troy slowly got to his shaky feet. The bastards took his weapon. He felt in his pocket. The knife was also gone.

  He felt like a truck had hit him. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious for. He remembered shooting at Alex and Terrance.

  More must have snuck up behind me.

  He rubbed his aching head.

  No matter. I will still do what needs doing. First, I will get my weapon back off the others.

  He shook himself down, and clicked his neck.

  God will guide me. Everything happens for a reason. He wanted me to know, even without weapons I will still succeed.

  Troy spat out a mouthful of blood and a loose tooth.

  He stood motionless for a minute, just to stop the dizziness. He then gripped the hatch and swung it open.

  I will kill the stranger; he mused, and the others for trying to thwart Gods will.

  276

  Stu, Soozie, the children and the six men

  Out to sea

  Somewhere off the shore in New York State

  The six men were now in control of the boat.

  Stu, Soozie and the two children were wedged into the bow end of the craft, with weapons pointing at them.

  The leader sat between them and his soaking wet men.

  “You’re from the container ship?” he questioned.

  No one answered.

  “I asked you a question,” he said in a modulated voice. “It’s only polite to answer.”

  Stu and Soozie simply looked at each other
. The young boy rocked back and forth, while the girl had a thousand mile stare.

  “They look traumatized,” the man said. “Here let me help.” He ripped the girl from Soozie’s arms and pulled her into his lap.

  As Soozie went to pull her back, a muzzle was slammed into the side of her head. She fell back with a ringing in her ears, but luckily, she was still conscious.

  The man gripped the girl’s delicate face with one hand while stroking her hair with the other.

  “Now, are you from the cargo ship?”

  “Yes,” Stu muttered angrily.

  “Good. See, we can have a civilized conversation.” He sniffed the young girls red hair.

  “Why aren’t you on the vessel?”

  “It’s a long story,” Stu said.

  “Do not play with me…” He gripped the girls face harder. She made no sound. Her gaze continued to stare over Stu and Soozie’s heads. She blinked slowly every five or so seconds.

  “I travelled back to the shoreline. I thought… I thought I saw my daughter there.” He wiped his face with the glove puppet.

  “You all went back?”

  “No, I ran into Soozie on the beach, and a group of six others found us.”

  “Six?” the man said looking at those in the boat.

  “Four adults were attacked by the infected.”

  “Oh dear, what a shame. Luckily for you, you got away and came to our rescue.”

  Stu lowered his head.

  “Who is the woman on the vessel? The one in charge?” the man asked while twisting the girl’s hair. He remembered the look she had given him when she knew she had won, as his ship went down.

  I will stare her in the face as I throttle the last ounce of life from her body with my two bare hands, he thought.

  “Her name is Smokie,” Soozie said.

  “Smokie…” He mulled the name over. “She was lucky; that’s all.” He twisted the girls face to look into her eyes, and then pushed her back toward Soozie.