Extinction NZ (Book 3): The Five Pillars

by Smith, Adrian J.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Dee put Aroha down and nodded. Boss pulled the young girl behind him. Max stuck his nose to the door and wagged his tail. She smiled. He was as eager to leave this place as she was.

  Jack punched in the code and swung the door open, standing to one side.

  For a moment Dee stood rooted in place; the sight of the weta Variants turning as one shocked her. Up close, she could see their tiny heads with large black oval eyes. They had the same sucker mouth as normal Variants, but the addition of the mandibles that spread open and the way the creatures shrieked was what stunned her the most. Then she stepped into the corridor and fired her carbine. The bullets shot out and tore into the soft flesh of the beasts, gaping holes blossoming as hunks of fetid flesh sprayed out and coated the Variants behind. The weta Variants shrieked and hummed, their joints clicking. They scrambled over the dead, hungrily gnashing their mouths.

  So desperate to feed on us.

  Jack pulled her back and slammed the door shut, then rested his shoulder against it. “Plan B?” he said. “The other stairwell.”

  Dee winced and checked her magazine. “Yeah. I’m getting low too.”

  She crouched down next to Aroha. “You’re going to have to run on your own, okay?” Aroha blinked and held on to Boss.

  The Renegades jogged down the stairs and stood at the next door. Dee nodded a go. Thankfully, the corridor beyond was clear. Breathing a sigh of relief, Dee ran through and picked up the pace. She was sick of this complex. Sick of the Variants. Sick of seeing death. Sick of the innocent victims paying the price because of the greed and hunger for power of a few.

  A door to her left burst open. Dee barely managed to block the clawed arm from tearing out her throat as the Variant slammed into her, knocking her down. Her AR-15 was torn away. Dee pulled out her Glock and shot it in the head. It shook its skull and snarled at her. She gasped and unloaded the rest of her magazine. The creature finally lay still.

  Dee jumped into a crouch and swivelled around.

  Variants poured from the room, snarling and hissing. Dee gathered up her rifle and frowned at the different shape of their skulls and their pale white skin, which gave them an alabaster marble appearance. They were almost human. More and more poured from the room. The Renegades searched frantically for an escape. The stairwell door was twenty metres ahead. It clanged open and more of the white-skinned Variants rushed out, blocking the way. Strangely, they didn’t attack.

  Dee exchanged a look with Jack and Boss, wondering if this was it. Max barked and growled next to her, paws scratching at the rubber mat underfoot.

  Yalonda swung her sniper rifle from one Variant to another. “You guys are even uglier than the last lot,” she taunted. “Who wants to taste my thunderstick first?”

  Dee smiled at Jack. “Game over?”

  He smiled back. “Not just yet.”

  He pointed into the room the Variants had poured out of. It was now empty. She could see an open door at the far end. Bright white light shone through the door and onto the linoleum.

  The Renegades edged their way towards the vacant room, keeping their backs to the wall.

  The white-skinned Variants stood watching them in silence. Jack glanced at her, then entered the room. Boss pulled the barking Max in and hung on to Aroha as he went next.

  Dee watched the Variants for a while. Something about their eyes bothered her. Gone were the yellow insect eyes, replaced by round black eyes, like someone had tattooed the sclera. The shape of their skulls still bothered her. For the last seven months they had fought the Variants, and she had become used to killing them. Each time she put a bullet in one, or decapitated a beast with her katana, Dee saw it as mercy. It was how she justified what she was doing. But these? These were almost human.

  She looked over at the Variant she had killed. A momentary flutter of guilt passed through her.

  “Dee, c’mon!” pleaded Jack.

  The white Variants hung back and stared after the retreating humans. Yalonda put a hand on Dee’s shoulder, pulling her backwards into the room.

  Dee kept her AR-15 trained on the creatures, whose joints popped as they followed the Renegades into the room.

  “When I say go, run,” said Jack.

  Dee clicked her radio, signalling that she understood.

  “Go!”

  Dee turned and sprinted. The Variants reacted, and howled in unison, a high-pitched howl that rattled the bones in her skull. Yalonda slammed the door shut behind her and Dee tore down the corridor beyond. She soon got lost in the maze of twists and turns. Room after room flashed by. Rooms full of computers and beeping machines. Rooms full of glass beakers, gas burners and long benches.

  Dee checked each room number, desperate to find Lab Five and retrieve the goddamn book.

  Still they fled from the beasts, down corridors with red and yellow lights, upstairs and through endless doorways.

  After ten minutes of running and firing on any Variant that got too close, Dee’s eyes widened at the number painted on the door to her right that was fast approaching. Lab Five.

  “Jack!”

  “I see it!”

  The Renegades scrambled inside. Frantic, she searched through the drawers of the desk. She came up blank. It was full of files and invoices. But no logbook.

  “It’s not here!”

  “Keep looking. Search every drawer.”

  “I have.”

  Boss joined her, searching a workbench covered in glass vials. “What am I looking for?”

  “Black book.”

  “Like this?” He held up an A4 book with red rubber bands around it.

  Dee made up the space between them and thumbed through the pages. She had no idea what any of the writing meant but recognized some chemical symbols. At the front of the book was what she was hoping for.

  Dr Katherine Yokoyama. Hemorrhage Virus trials.

  “Yes, Boss. You star!” Dee kissed the gangly teenager.

  “Let’s go! Over here,” said Jack, waving his rifle at another door.

  — 22 —

  As Dee fled, she shoved the logbook inside her fatigues, securing it with Velcro. After everything they had been through in the last twenty-four hours, there was no way she was going to lose it. If it indeed held the key to ending this madness, then she wanted to do everything she could to get it to the right people.

  Finally, they burst into a corridor bathed in bright white light. After being in semi-darkness for so long, it stung her eyes. She held up a hand to block out the harsh light.

  The only door in this corridor was at the very end. Dee exchanged a look of confusion with Jack.

  “Looks like that way, then,” he commented, and took off towards it.

  A high-pitched howl echoed down the corridor, confirming that the white Variants were closing in fast.

  Dee spun. “Hurry, Jack!”

  He was punching in the code as Dee grabbed Aroha’s hand and sprinted for the now-open door, mist swirling out. With no time to think of the why’s, Dee burst through into the room, closely followed by Boss. Pivoting, she slammed the door behind Yalonda. The door had a metal wheel in its centre, just below a small window. Dee spun it clockwise, grinning at the sound of locks clicking into place. She peeked through the window. White Variants poured into the brightly lit corridor, filling it fast. Whatever happened now, there was no going back.

  A thought flitted through her mind.

  They wanted us in this room. That’s why they didn’t attack.

  Lights blinked on in the room, casting eerie shafts through the dissipating mist. Dee frowned as the mist lifted as it was sucked through vents high up in the walls. With the mist cleared, she got a better look at the room. And gasped. The room was completely tiled, floor, ceiling and walls, in glossy white tiles. Occupying the walls on either side of her were men and women, locked into place by metal bars looping over their torsos and legs, arms pinned to their sides. Breathing apparatuses covered each person’s
mouth and nose, and tubes stuck out of it. Each had IV drips and bags, and all were naked. In the centre of the room was a sarcophagus-shaped pod. A soft blue light glowed from within, and a computer display showing life signs beeped on one side.

  Dee covered her mouth with her hand, sucking in a breath. She scanned the prisoners—for that was certainly what they were. There were fifteen in total. Four women and eleven men. Dee moved closer to one of the men, a Maori. She quickly scanned the other men. Nine other Maori inhabited the pods.

  Hone’s missing people?

  Yalonda let out a low whistle. “Guys? What the fuck is going on?”

  “No idea,” said Dee.

  She crouched next to Aroha. To the little girl’s credit, she was remaining stoic. Dee could guess what was going on but didn’t want to voice her fears in front of the little girl. She was amazed at her acceptance of the situation.

  Dee glanced up at Jack. He was standing close to one of the imprisoned men. He had nasty burns over his chest and neck, and the top half of his left leg was wrapped in a heavy bandage. Jack was staring at a tattoo on the man’s shoulder. It was of a kiwi wearing an army helmet, a cheeky grin on its face.

  “Jack! Now’s not the time to admire tattoos!”

  “Look. It’s the same as Ben’s.”

  She moved up next to him and grabbed his hand. “So?”

  “So, he’s SAS. Ben said only SAS have that tattoo.”

  The man groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. Both Dee and Jack took a couple of steps back. The man groaned again and muttered something. Dee leant down next to him.

  “Help me…please.”

  Dee reached up and grasped his hand. “Hang on. I’ll get you free.” She turned to the others. “Jack. Yalonda. Help me get these people released. They’re alive.”

  She looked around for Boss. He was standing by a large window that took up half the opposite wall.

  Boss tried the wheel on the door next to the window and groaned. “We’re locked in.”

  “See anything?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing much. A computer, desk, some funny green plastic suits.”

  “Okay. Come and help us free these people.”

  Boss joined the rest of the Renegades in freeing the prisoners. Next to each prisoner, bolted to the wall, was a locking pin. It was a simple matter of lifting it free and swinging the clasp open.

  Dee swung the metal frame off Tattoo. He swayed on his feet. Dee held him up and eased him to the floor. “I got you.”

  Tattoo smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  Pulling out the first aid kit from her pack, she redressed the bloody bandage on his leg. Finishing up, Dee glanced around. Jack, Yalonda and Boss were releasing the other prisoners and helping them down to the floor. Max followed Jack around, licking each of the prisoners, his tail wagging in excitement.

  “What about the middle one?” Boss questioned.

  A tinny voice crackled from hidden speakers, the sound jolting Dee from answering Boss. “What are you doing! Those are my subjects. Guards! Where are my guards!”

  The speakers hissed and crackled before falling silent.

  “Who the hell are you?” screamed Dee. She spun around, trying to find the source of the voice. High above them, wedged in a corner, Dee saw a red light blinking.

  We’re being watched.

  Dee grimaced and looked at the other Renegades. “Boss. Cover the others. Jack, Yalonda. Stand back!”

  She flicked off her safety and squeezed the trigger of her carbine, peppering the window to the next room with lead. The bullets slammed into the glass, but it didn’t shatter. Instead, craters pockmarked the window. Cursing, she reversed her rifle and slammed the butt into the glass, over and over. It cracked in the corners but held firm, refusing to break.

  Yalonda and Jack joined her. Yalonda walloped the glass with her hatchets. “In the corners!” she yelled. “That’s where it’s weakest!”

  First a small crack appeared, splitting from corner to corner. Then a spider web formed, and with one last bash the glass shattered, showering tiny fragments onto the floor.

  Dee grinned and leapt through the now-open window. “Jack, what’s the code?”

  “NZLV-8675309.”

  The locks clicked open and the door swung free. Dee rushed in to help Jack with Tattoo. He was on his feet now, but unsteady. All around her, the other subjects were gradually coming to. Most could only sit up, but some of the Maori warriors were gingerly trying to stand up.

  The high-pitched wail of the white-skinned Variants reverberated through the room. Several of the subjects clamped their hands over their ears and screamed in agony.

  Dee caught Tattoo’s eye. “Can you walk? We need to go.”

  “I’ll try. I’ll die on my feet, not on my knees.”

  She grinned and handed him her Glock. “You’ll need this then.”

  — 23 —

  Derek took one last look around the abattoir. He methodically checked the building for any guards, human or otherwise. Satisfied he was alone, he clicked on his flashlight and walked into the tunnel.

  After a lot of thought, this was the best plan Derek come up with.

  Kill the guards.

  Destroy the security room.

  Rescue Sophie.

  Kill the lady in white.

  Derek had caught glimpses of the security room with its banks of screens showing the camera feeds from all over the sprawling complex. Every time he had assisted Dr Marks, he had sneaked a peek.

  He shivered at the thought of her. She was wild and power-crazed, motivated by a sick sense that she was helping mankind by experimenting on humans and Variants alike. In only a few months, she had single-handedly created the moles, beetles and weta Variants. But the worst were the white-skinned creatures. Completely obedient to her, they dominated all the other beasts with superior strength and speed. Not to mention intelligence. Only Abezi did they fear.

  He hadn’t thought about them too much, and hoped they’d ignore him like they normally did. Plus, he knew of a maintenance staircase tucked away.

  Derek paused and strained his ears for any unusual sounds. The cavern where all the lab vehicles were parked was spread out in front of him. Crouching behind a rock, he listened for another few minutes. All remained silent. Slowly he edged forwards, wary of cameras. Metre by metre he crept, ducking between cars, trucks and golf carts.

  Derek tightened the straps on his borrowed pack and looked over the rifle once more. The weapon felt strange in his hands. His late wife had hated guns and never allowed them in the house. He located the safety switch and clicked it into the fire position. Taking a deep breath, he darted from the shadows and sprinted for the airlock door. Opening it, he dashed the last few metres to the security area.

  The two guards stared at him, mouths agape, as he burst into the room, rifle held up against his shoulder. Derek shot the nearest one in the chest, then swivelled around. Guard Two dived to the floor and rolled behind a desk. Derek pulled the trigger. Bullets slammed into the wooden top, flicking shards of timber into the air. His heart hammered against his ribcage as he stepped forwards. Movement flashed from behind the desk and a stinging pain shot up Derek’s leg. He gasped. A knife stuck out of his calf, seemingly buried several inches in. Screaming, Derek lunged forwards. Guard Two wriggled under the desk and kicked at him as he fell to the floor.

  Derek rolled onto his side and fired. Guard Two’s head snapped back as blood and brains painted the timber behind him.

  Derek sat up and shuffled back. The whole scuffle had lasted less than a minute, but he was gasping for breath. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, making his muscles twitch.

  He stared down at the rifle in his shaking hands. He clenched his hands into a fist and let out a breath. Gasping, he pulled the knife free and, using one of the dead guard’s shirt sleeves, wrapped his wound. Flexing his leg, he tested putting weight on it. Thankfully he could still walk.

  Stay focused. For Sophie.


  Derek stared at the camera feeds, searching out the room where Dr Marks kept his precious daughter. He watched the image for a long time, partly from fear of what he had to do next, and partly from the fear that had gnawed at him since the outbreak.

  What if he couldn’t do enough to save her?

  He growled at the image of Sophie and the other subjects. Derek raised his rifle above his head and smashed the screen that held the image. The anger in him flooded out. All that rage. All that loathing. All that frustration. Released in a tsunami of destruction.

  Derek smashed every screen he could see. He threw keyboards across the room, shattering them into shards of plastic and wire. He ripped out wires and kicked in motherboards. He threw the chairs into the banks of the monitors. Sparks jumped out like fireworks, and tendrils of smoke twisted in eddies from the destroyed computer equipment.

  Derek stood panting, surveying the damage. Slamming the door behind him, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and stalked down the corridor.

  As he made his way to where Dr Marks kept Sophie, he regained control of his temper and refocused on the task at hand. He still couldn’t think of what to do after he had released his daughter. The lab complex was vast and full of her creations. Derek was banking everything on the fact that they knew him as one of them. A collaborator. He just hoped they didn’t notice the fact that he was now armed.

  The lab remained quiet as he walked down the long corridor and into the maintenance stairwell. He glanced up at the twisting narrow stairs and grimaced. It was a long climb to the third floor. Not for the first time, he wondered why they hadn’t installed elevators.

  As he set off, the muffled rat-a-tat of gunfire bounced around the stairwell. Derek frowned and paused. He cocked his head to one side, straining to hear anything further. In his haste to initiate his rescue of Sophie, he had completely forgotten about the soldiers. Grunting at his injury, he sprinted up the remaining stairs and burst through the door.