Savage (Apex Predator Book 2)

by David Meyer

  “What if it doesn’t come after me?”

  “It will.” He clasped her shoulders. Gave her a good, hard look. Her jaw quivered just a bit, which he chalked up to the cold mud. As for her eyes, they were tough and steady. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks, Zach. For everything.” She surprised him by giving him a quick, tight hug before pulling away.

  Elliott turned toward Teo. Their arms wrapped around each other. Their lips met in the middle and they embraced.

  “Don’t you dare die on me,” Teo whispered to her.

  “You either.”

  Reluctantly, they broke apart. Elliott twisted toward the cracked door and peeked out at Saber. She gave Caplan a brief nod. Her eyes met Teo’s one last time. Then she slipped outside and ran to the forest.

  Caplan turned his attention to Saber. For the next few minutes, he watched it swing through the ruins of Savage City, becoming more agitated by the second. It growled, it snarled. It stomped on old houses and swiped at trees, tearing them out by their withered roots.

  When the coast was clear, Toland, Ross, and Tuffel slipped outside. They covered themselves with mud, then returned to the vault. Others took their place at the trough. Before long, the entire group was doused with muck.

  An engine came to life.

  Caplan shared a knowing look with Teo. “Here we go.”

  Saber’s hulking shadow froze near the hatch. For a moment, it sat still, surrounded by snow and ice. Then it twisted around. Roaring, it raced toward the purring engine.

  Teo and Caplan ran outside. Squinting over his shoulder, he stared into the blizzard. But he saw nothing. No trees, no cars, no hulking shadow. Nothing but a sheet of falling snow.

  Teo tugged his arm. “She gave us this opportunity. Don’t waste it.”

  They ran to the hatch with the others in close pursuit. Shaking snow out of her hair, Teo knelt down to study a control panel. “I need tools,” she said. “The ones we took from the garage.”

  Caplan turned to Ross. “Take a couple of people to the cars. Get us every tool you can find.”

  Gathering together a half-dozen people, Ross hustled toward the vehicles. The snow quickly swallowed them up.

  The temperature dropped a few degrees. The wind turned brutal. Fighting off shivers, Caplan rotated toward the others. “Half of you stay here and watch over Sydney. The rest of you come with me.”

  He darted into the forest. After a short run, he came upon dozens of soldiers, all dead. Their remains, chewed and drained of blood, were gruesome and he did his best not to look at them. “Grab their guns,” he called out. “Plus anything else we can use.”

  Holding his breath, he scouted the area. He located a loose pistol and a couple of rifles. He kept the pistol and handed the rifles off to others. Then he led everyone back to the hatch and they placed all the extra guns and ammunition into a pile.

  Facing west, he scanned the forest for surviving archaics and soldiers. Others followed his lead, taking up position all around Teo.

  Ross’ group raced back to the hatch, their hands full of bags and tools. They passed everything to Teo, picked up weapons from the pile, and joined the lookout.

  Ross donned a rifle strap and joined Caplan. “What do we do once Sydney gets the hatch open?”

  “Same thing we always do.” He shrugged. “Wing it.”

  “No plan?”

  He thought back to his original plan, the one he’d followed for so long. How had he put it to Ross? Oh, yes.

  A big population also gets you noticed, he’d said. And being noticed is tantamount to death. Staying small is a much better strategy.

  “What’s the point?” A small smile crossed Caplan’s face as he glanced at the rest of his group. “Plans change.”

  He chuckled. “Thank God for that.”

  Metal scraped against metal.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Caplan watched as the hatch swung open. There was no light this time. Instead, he saw a well of blackness.

  Tools in hand, Teo stood up. “We’re in.”

  Chapter 67

  Date: December 3, 2017, 3:30 a.m.; Location: Savage Station, Vallerio Forest, NH

  Kneeling next to the open hatch, Caplan squinted into the blackness. He waited for it to subside. For moonlight to penetrate the top floor of Savage Station. But it didn’t happen.

  Giving up, he perked his ears. He heard no murmurs, no movement. It was almost as if the top floor was completely deserted.

  Almost.

  He couldn’t see them. He couldn’t hear them. But he could still feel them. He could feel the warmth of their bodies and the slight shifts in air as they fought to control their breathing.

  Ever so slowly, the blackness began to melt. It peeled away from the walls and he saw the ladders. Then the rotors, still and quiet, appeared. The helicopters were next, followed by the floor.

  He crept along the edges of the gigantic hatch, looking for shadowy figures. But he didn’t see anyone. Where were they hiding?

  He tapped his pistol against one of the ladders. Metal dinged and vibrated. There were no sudden movements, no abrupt blaze of gunfire.

  He turned his gaze to his team. Roughly forty armed and exhausted people stared back at him. They’d lost more than half their number in the last day or so. It was a staggering loss. And yet, it was but a drop in the bucket compared to the world’s losses over the last seventeen months.

  “They’re down there,” he whispered. “I can’t see them, but they’re definitely down there.”

  George slid to the side of the hatch and snuck a quick peek into Savage Station. “I don’t know,” he said doubtfully. “We can cover the entire floor from up here. Chenoa had to know that. She would’ve taken her soldiers to a more defensible location.”

  “I say we error on the side of caution,” Tuffel said. “We take up position around the hatch. Then we send our people down the ladders. If soldiers pop up, we put them down.”

  “That only works if they actually pop up,” Caplan said. “Which they won’t. They’ll stay in hiding and gun us down.”

  “Then we need to drive them out of their hiding spots.” Mills twisted around. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She ran into the snowstorm. Ross shot Caplan an inquisitive look. Caplan shrugged.

  A few minutes later, a puttering engine came into earshot. Then an old sedan careened out of the dense blizzard. It drove along the west side of Savage City, on the relatively muck-free strip of land between the ruins and the surrounding forest.

  It stopped near the hatch. The engine ceased and Mills hopped out of the driver’s seat. “How do you feel about about causing a little chaos?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Caplan scanned the interior and noted one of the helicopters was positioned quite close to the east wall. He pointed at it. “Aim for that.”

  Mills moved the car into position. Meanwhile, Caplan sectioned a skinny tree and gathered more firewood and tinder. Returning to the car, he placed everything into the chassis. He used George’s lighter to ignite the tinder. A small fire burst to life. It spread from the tinder to the wood. Then it spread to the upholstery.

  Once the interior was aflame, Caplan checked on the others. They stood around the hatch, their guns focused on the interior. Satisfied, he gave Mills a nod.

  She released the brake. Then she, Caplan, and Ross pushed the vehicle forward. Passing over the lip, it toppled into the station. It struck the helicopter, then smashed to the floor with a tremendous bang. The helicopter tipped toward the wreck. Flames exploded.

  A helicopter door banged open in the center of the floor. A soldier raced out into the open.

  “They’re in the choppers,” Caplan shouted. “Fire.”

  Loud blasts rang out. Glass exploded. More doors flew open and soldiers ran outside. Many of them fell under the onslaught. But a few managed to slip into a nearby stairwell.

  Caplan ran to a ladder and slid down to the first floor. Grabbing his pistol, he whirled
around. The floor was a mess of smoke, glass, falling snow, fire, and charred, twisted metal.

  His group descended the other ladders. Grabbing fire extinguishers, they swept through the room, checking the fallen soldiers and dousing the flames with chemical foam.

  Teo climbed down a ladder. Spotting a control panel, she hurried toward it. Her fingers flew over a keyboard.

  Caplan gathered everyone into a tight group near the stairwell. “We got most of them,” he whispered. “About a dozen escaped downstairs. There could be more of them down there as well.”

  Mills screwed up her face in thought. “The last thing we want is a long drawn-out battle. I say we concentrate on James. If we kill or capture him, Chenoa might surrender.”

  “Where do we find him?” Tuffel asked.

  A memory of Corbotch’s private room filled Caplan’s brain. “On Level X. But he won’t come quietly. Remember, he’s got augmented genes now. He’s practically a super-soldier.”

  Screeches, bellows, and whines drifted down from above. Wiping sweat from his brow, Caplan glanced up at the still-open hatch. He saw a shadowy archaic, framed by the falling snow. Other archaics rushed into view.

  “Sydney?” he called out.

  “The controls are damaged,” she shouted. “I need a few more minutes.”

  “Aw, crap,” Ross muttered.

  A hefty archaic beat its chest and screamed at the sky. Other archaics grabbed hold of the ladders and lumbered down the rungs.

  One archaic, a dark-haired female, grew impatient. It leaned closer and closer to the hatch. Finally, it stepped into open space and took the plunge. It crashed to the ground, dying upon impact. Caplan wondered if others would follow suit, lemming-style. Unfortunately, they seemed to learn from the dead archaic’s mistake.

  Rifles and pistols swung outward. They took aim at the ladders. Loud blasts echoed off the walls. Some archaics, shrieking and bloodied, fell victim to the gunfire. But others reached the floor safely. Vicious scuffling broke out.

  Caplan fired his last bullet, then tossed his pistol to the ground. Grabbing his axes, he went on the attack. He chopped out the legs of one archaic. Swinging around, he sank his second axe into another archaic’s chest.

  Many archaics fell. But others continued to stream down the ladders in droves.

  Ross clubbed down an archaic and shot Caplan a glance. “We’ll hold them off for you.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “You have to.” He wiped blood from his lip. “Find a way to stop these things. Otherwise, we’re all dead.”

  Caplan met Ross’ gaze. Then he ran to a door. Throwing it open, he entered the stairwell.

  And began his descent into Savage Station.

  Chapter 68

  Date: December 3, 2017, 3:58 a.m.; Location: Savage Station, Vallerio Forest, NH

  Footsteps pounded on concrete. Hefting an axe, Caplan whirled around. He froze for a second, his eyes locked on a shadowy, feminine figure. “Bailey?”

  She halted a few steps above him. One hand held her bow. The other one drifted to her forehead, brushing hair away from her eyes. “I figured you could use some back-up.”

  He lowered the axe. “We need to stop those archaics.”

  “How?”

  An earlier conversation with Corbotch came to mind. That bloodlust, as you call it, is a temporary condition, the man had said. We deliberately don’t program it into the genomes. Instead, we artificially induce it via implanted microchips. I won’t bore you with the details. But in essence, we have the ability to plague our archaics with a horrible ringing noise that only subsides with the consumption of blood.

  “By taking charge of their microchips,” he replied.

  “If we control the chips, we control the archaics?”

  “That’s the idea. Dr. Barden installs the chips in the clinic. Most likely, he controls them from there as well.”

  “Do you know how to operate the microchips?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe Dr. Barden will help us.”

  “And if he refuses?”

  Several stories up, a door banged open. Bellows, shrieks, and howls roared into the stairwell. “Then we’ll have to convince him.”

  Twisting around, he ran down a few more flights. The sounds of the archaics faded a bit. How had they gotten into the stairwell? Where were Ross and the Pylors? What about Teo, Toland, Aquila, Tuffel, and all the rest? Were they still alive? Were they still fighting?

  He reached the floor for the clinic. Mills fitted an arrow into her bow and gave him a nod. He tried the knob, then pushed the stairwell door open. The lobby was brightly lit and seemingly empty.

  She stole outside. He followed her out and scanned the area. Seeing no one, he closed the door softly behind him. Then he crept to the clinic. Voices, barely audible, slipped through the doors.

  “We have a breach,” Dr. Barden announced. “The details are unimportant. All you need to know is that archaics are currently free inside of Savage.”

  A hushed silence followed.

  “We won’t be shutting down their desire for blood. We don’t need to. Just follow protocol and evacuate to your quarters. Lock and barricade the doors. Stay absolutely quiet until you hear from us. Are there any questions?”

  Another hushed silence filled the void.

  “Well?” Roberts snarled. “What are you waiting for?”

  Caplan pulled Mills to the wall. Hiding his axes, he turned away from the clinic. She caught on quickly and twisted her back to it as well.

  The double doors flew open. Frantic murmurs rang out as footsteps thundered past their position. Caplan snuck a peek over his shoulder. He saw technicians, orderlies, and others. Their faces reflected confusion and terror.

  Other doors, including the one leading to the stairwell, banged against stoppers. Soft, inhuman shrieks filtered into the lobby. The murmurs gave way to frightened whispers. Tempers flared.

  A technician pushed an orderly. She lost her balance and careened to the floor. Someone jostled the technician and he fell as well. Screams rang out as the panicked crowd overran them.

  Another orderly lost her balance. Pitching forward, she smacked into a couple of scientists. A whole heap of people crashed to the floor. The crowd didn’t falter. It raced onward, crushing people with cruel indifference.

  Gradually, the crowd vanished through the various doors. A few lucky folks picked themselves off the floor and limped after them. Others stayed where they lay, unconscious or worse.

  The double doors swung shut. Other doors followed suit. Footsteps and voices faded away. The inhuman shrieks died out.

  Caplan glanced at Mills. Dr. Barden is still inside, he mouthed.

  So is Chenoa, she mouthed back.

  Two birds, one stone.

  He cracked one of the doors and looked into the dimly-lit interior. He saw a couple of figures—soldiers—hurrying among the beds. They appeared to be checking restraints.

  He stepped into the clinic with Mills at his heel. Silently, she closed the door.

  “I see three soldiers,” he whispered. “No Chenoa or Dr. Barden. They must be in one of the back rooms.”

  “You find them.” She studied the soldiers. “I’ll take care of these guys.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She arched an eyebrow as if to say, Are you really asking me that? Rising to a crouch, she darted along the wall. She turned at the corner, then silently made her way toward the soldiers.

  Caplan turned in the opposite direction. He hustled to the left wall, then turned. Staying low, he crept past rows of beds. He tried not to look, but he couldn’t help stealing the occasional glance. The pre-archaics, unconscious and sporting surgical scars, lay on the mattresses. Seeing them like that, ready to be transformed against their will, made him think of Morgan.

  His jaw hardened. Continuing forward, he saw the beige drywall as well as the tables and chairs that had been pushed up against it. He caught glimpses of the corkboards, work schedules,
and warning signs. And of course, he noticed those oddball posters. Especially the one depicting the beautiful couple toasting to the distant nuclear explosion. It made him think of the scientists, technicians, and orderlies who’d just raced out of the clinic. He recalled the fear and anxiety etched upon their faces.

  It’s not so great when it’s happening to you, is it? he thought with disdain.

  He reached the second set of double doors. They creaked open automatically. Cringing, he cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Fortunately, the soldiers hadn’t noticed.

  He stepped into the connecting hallway. Then he walked to a pairs of doors and peeked through the small windows. He saw the brightly-lit room filled with modules. Two people stood in the center of the room, surrounded by machines and computers. One was Dr. Barden.

  His thoughts went to Ross and Toland and all the others still fighting the archaics. If properly motivated, Dr. Barden could save them. But first, Caplan had to deal with the room’s other occupant.

  Okay, Chenoa, he thought, shifting his gaze to her. It’s time to end this.

  Chapter 69

  Date: December 3, 2017, 4:12 a.m.; Location: Savage Station, Vallerio Forest, NH

  The floor creaked under his boot. He froze, halfway through the doorway. His gaze stole to Roberts. She remained in the middle of the room, hands on hips, her gaze locked on Dr. Barden. Dr. Barden, in turn, was talking in a rush, his words coming out in a garbled mess.

  Caplan’s heartbeat remained steady. For whatever reason, Roberts and Dr. Barden had left the room unlocked. Perhaps they weren’t planning on staying there. Perhaps they just hadn’t locked the doors yet. Either way, he was taking advantage of the situation.

  He slid into the room and the door closed silently behind him. His fingers tightened around the axe handle. He had no interest in a fair fight, not when so many lives were on the line. He just wanted to finish off Roberts. Then he’d force Dr. Barden to end the archaic threat.

  He reared back. His arm whipped forward. His wrist snapped and the axe soared across the room.