Extinction War

by Nicholas Smith

  “Stay frosty,” Fitz said to Stevenson.

  He nodded and gripped the steering wheel. Fitz flicked the selector on his M4 to three-round burst and followed the four Ghost members anxiously while they made their way down the street toward the barricade. Apollo’s tail was still up, a good sign.

  Alecia popped up between the driver’s and passenger’s seats to watch.

  “Come on, kid,” Fitz said. “Put your seat belt back on.”

  She scowled. “I came out here to avenge my friends and family. Maman, Michel, all the other kids who died at the basilica.”

  Fitz had had a feeling this was coming. The girl hadn’t hitched a ride out here for nothing—she wanted to fight, and the rage in her eyes told him he was going to have more problems if he continued treating her like a child.

  She raised her pistol, and Fitz cracked a half grin. “Okay, kid, get ready. We might need you.”

  “You see that?” Stevenson asked.

  Fitz followed his finger to the rooftops where the tendrils of smoke rose off charred rafters. Fitz put on his sunglasses for a better view in the glare of the sun.

  “I don’t see anything but smoke,” he said.

  “Thought I saw something—guess it was a shadow.”

  Dohi stopped about fifty feet from the barricade. He pointed to a building around the corner that Fitz couldn’t see and then flashed hand signals to Rico and Tanaka. The three fanned out, with Apollo trotting behind Rico.

  “What are they doing?” Fitz whispered, more to himself than Stevenson.

  “This could be a trap,” Alecia said, her head still wedged between the two seats. “You should tell your team to watch for the bat monsters.”

  Fitz had a feeling she meant Reavers, but he didn’t correct her. She was right, after all: This could be a trap. He relayed the message over the comms.

  “Eyes up, Rico.”

  Then he pushed his binoculars to his sunglasses and magnified the church just as a single EUF soldier staggered into view.

  “Finally, someone in a white-and-blue uniform,” Stevenson said with a huff. “Want me to move?”

  “Hold,” Fitz said. He centered the binos on the soldier limping down the road. The man was injured, and he wasn’t carrying a weapon.

  Dohi and the others were at the roadblock now, and they had lowered their weapons at the approaching soldier.

  “We got a contact,” Rico reported over the comm channel.

  “I see that,” Fitz replied. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Looks hurt. Can’t see much from behind this barricade.”

  Dohi and Tanaka prepared to move around the concrete blocks and barbed wire–topped fences. Fitz flitted the binoculars from his team to the EUF soldier.

  “What’s he saying?” Fitz asked over the comms.

  “I don’t know. He’s speaking French,” Rico replied.

  Alecia leaned closer, nearly climbing into the front seats. “I’ll translate.”

  “Rico, can you relay what’s he saying so Alecia can translate?” Fitz asked.

  “Uh, maybe it’s not French,” Rico replied. “It just sounds like gibberish.”

  Fitz zoomed in on the man’s hands as the soldier pulled them away from his mouth. It was no wonder Rico couldn’t make out the words: The man had no tongue. He stumbled into the other side of the barricade and tripped, falling into a barbed wire fence.

  Tanaka and Dohi leaped over the concrete blocks to help. Apollo froze, tail between his legs and eyes on the sky.

  “Oh no,” Fitz whispered.

  “What the hell is going on?” Stevenson said.

  “Fall back,” Fitz said.

  There was a pause, and Dohi turned to look at the MATV as if to make sure he’d heard correctly. Tanaka had pulled out bolt cutters from his rucksack. He went to cut through the fence while the EUF soldier struggled and squirmed like an insect caught in a cobweb.

  Fitz could hear the man’s screams now, strangled, guttural screeches that sounded more monster than human. It was one of the most awful things he’d ever heard in his life.

  “Get back to the truck!” Fitz said, his voice just shy of a shout. He reached for the door handle, forgetting for a moment that he had no blades to carry him.

  “Oh shit—we have company,” Stevenson said. Fitz saw the Reaver at the same moment Stevenson did. The beast flapped away from the smoke and spread its wings like a dragon.

  The EUF soldier stopped struggling to look up at the sky. As soon as he saw the creature, he started squirming more violently, tearing his flesh on the razor wire.

  The injured man was being used as bait by the Variants.

  “Move,” Fitz said to Stevenson.

  Stevenson pushed down on the gas pedal, but instead of speeding down the road, the MATV caught and jolted. The pavement beneath the tires vibrated as if from a miniature earthquake. Fitz knew right away the vibration was too powerful to be the impact of another distant bomb.

  A mound of asphalt rose in front of the truck as a Wormer moved under the earth toward the barricade.

  “Floor it!” Fitz shouted.

  Stevenson pushed the gas pedal down again, the engine roaring and the tires skidding. The vehicle heaved forward and then jolted backward, throwing Fitz toward the dash. The seat belt caught his chest, compressing the air from his lungs and setting him gasping for breath. Above them, the sky filled with Reavers.

  “We’re stuck!” Stevenson shouted.

  Fitz looked in the passenger’s side mirror and saw the tentacles wrapped around the back right tire.

  “Give it some gas,” Fitz said.

  Stevenson pushed down, but the tentacles remained wrapped around the tire like a rubber band, yanking them backward each time he tried to move.

  Everything slowed around Fitz, but his senses seemed to heighten. He could feel the sweat dripping down his brow, he could hear Alecia chomping on her gum and see the puckered lips of the first Reaver swoop down and pluck the EUF soldier from the barbed wire.

  The crack of automatic gunfire snapped Fitz alert again. Dohi, Tanaka, Rico, and Apollo were retreating from the barricade, straight into the path of the tunneling Wormers.

  Fitz unfastened his belt and pulled his body into the back seat, where Alecia was reaching for the door handle.

  “Stay put!” Fitz ordered.

  “We have to help your friends!” Alecia yelled back.

  Fitz extended a hand up for the hatch but was unable to reach it. He said, “Actually, help me with this.”

  The vehicle jolted again as Stevenson tried to free the tires. Alecia stood on the back seat and helped Fitz push the hatch open. Using the handholds, he pulled himself up and climbed onto the roof, where he positioned his butt and stumps on the mesh net that would have to serve as a seat.

  “Get us out of here!” Fitz yelled at Stevenson.

  “I’m trying!”

  Fitz looked to the right rear tire. Tentacles were wrapped around the MATV’s axle, but Fitz couldn’t get a solid shot at the Wormer under their truck. He grabbed the M240 and aimed it at the beautiful sunset in the backdrop of a sky filling with the winged abominations.

  He fired a volley of 7.62-millimeter rounds at his first target, a Reaver with the wingspan of a goddamn osprey. It angled into a nosedive, clutching its wings against its side and preparing to pluck Rico up with its talons.

  The rounds slammed the beast into the side of a building, killing it on impact. Rico pumped her shotgun, discarding a spent shell, and waved up at Fitz. Then she went back to firing blast after blast at the monsters swooping toward the street. Tanaka ducked, pulled out a sword, and sliced off a wing. The creature he’d struck slammed into a stone wall on his right.

  Fitz led another creature in the sky with the M240’s barrel and pulled the trigger. The rounds lanced into its spiky back, shredding vital organs and dropping the Reaver like a stone to the street, where it splattered in front of Tanaka.

  The Wormers continued to break
under the asphalt, the ground sagging where they had already tunneled. Fitz fired a barrage into the street and then raked the gun back and forth to keep the monsters in the sky off Team Ghost. Mindful of not wasting ammunition, he fired well-timed short bursts.

  There were more than a dozen of the Reavers and at least three Wormers. A fair fight, for now, but they were running out of time, and Fitz had a feeling there were more of the beasts on the way.

  “Hurry!” Fitz shouted to his team.

  “Let me help them!” Alecia shouted from inside the vehicle.

  “No! Stay put!” Fitz yelled back.

  Stevenson was still trying to free the truck; it jerked back and forth, making aiming incredibly difficult. Fitz followed a Reaver diving toward Apollo and pulled the trigger just as the beast folded its wings to the sides of its leathery hide in a dive.

  Rounds tore into its deformed face, and it hit the road with a boom that sounded like it had come from Rico’s shotgun. The dog leaped over a mound of asphalt one of the Wormers had created and then stopped to bark.

  “Get back to the truck, Apollo!” Fitz shouted in between gunshots. He ducked as a Reaver lowered its talons to grab him. The beast came so close, Fitz met its yellow, almond-shaped eyes for an instant. There was evil in its gaze, and he knew it would be back for him if Fitz let it live.

  He swiveled the turret and riddled the winged monstrosity with rounds that sent it crashing into a tree. When he rotated the gun back toward the street, another Wormer had broken through—the largest Fitz had ever seen.

  Ten-foot tentacles whipped out of the rubble like a giant squid’s and slapped Rico and Tanaka to the ground. One of the tentacles wrapped around Dohi’s leg as he fired at the Reavers.

  A minute had passed since Fitz had climbed up top, and in that time, all three soldiers had been brought to the ground, shooting, screaming, and fighting for their lives. Apollo bounded over and bit at the tentacle holding Dohi’s leg.

  “I’m burning the tires!” Stevenson yelled, still unable to get the vehicle unstuck.

  “Get out and shoot then!” Fitz shouted back. He focused the barrel on the Wormer in the middle of the street.

  Gunshots sounded from the side of the truck, but it wasn’t Stevenson obeying orders, it was Alecia disobeying them. In his peripheral, Fitz saw the girl jump out. She bent down and emptied her pistol’s magazine into the Wormer under the truck.

  “Die!” she was shouting in an enraged voice that made her sound like a woman.

  “Get back inside!” Fitz screamed at her.

  Alecia pulled out the magazine, put in a fresh one, and then further disobeyed his orders by firing down the street.

  The southern wall of the church down the street suddenly exploded outward, raining bricks and stone. A Black Beetle pulled itself out of the opening and let out a ringing hiss that sent the Reavers fanning out in a frenzy.

  This time Fitz didn’t tell Alecia to retreat. They needed every gun in this fight. He directed the barrel of the M240 at the Beetle. The gun clicked when he pulled the trigger: A round had jammed. He reached forward and tried to work the bolt and eject the stuck round, one eye on the battle.

  On the street, Dohi was thrashing as the Wormer tentacles pulled him toward the hole. Apollo clawed and bit at the thick, spiky appendage, and Rico was firing her M4 at the Wormer trying to free its sinewy body from the tunnel, but it was Tanaka who freed Dohi with a slash of his Katana. He swung both of his blades in graceful arcs that sliced through the long, wormlike arms.

  The chorus of high-pitched shrieks from the Reavers, the hissing of the Beetle, and the screeching of the Wormers rose into a din that hurt Fitz’s ears.

  A Reaver plunged toward him and, unable to fire the M240, Fitz pulled Meg’s axe from his belt and waited until it was about twenty feet away before he flung the weapon. It cartwheeled into the creature’s right eye.

  The beast jerked to the left, narrowly missing the front of the MATV, and collided with something meaty instead. A human scream joined the chorus of shrieking monsters.

  Fitz glanced back at Stevenson, who had stepped out of the vehicle only to be hit by the Reaver. He landed on his back, helmet bouncing against the pavement like a ping-pong ball. The Reaver straddled him, wrapping its wings around his body to pin him to the ground.

  Fitz pulled out his M9 and pointed it at the beast. From his angle, he could see Stevenson looking up at him, terror in his eyes. It was over before Fitz could fire a single shot. The Reaver pulled the axe out of its eye with one clawed hand and wrapped its other arm around Stevenson’s neck. A crunch sounded as the monster snapped the marine’s spine as if he was a turkey’s wishbone on Thanksgiving Day.

  “No!” Fitz didn’t recognize his own voice at first as he kept yelling the word. He squeezed the trigger of his M9 as the Reaver plucked up Stevenson’s limp body and flapped away. He followed it into the sky, squeezing off his entire magazine, heart kicking in his chest with each shot.

  Fitz continued pulling the trigger even after the mag went dry. He finally forced his gaze away, knowing he had to help the others before they too joined Stevenson. He turned back to the M240, freed the round, and aimed for the Beetle. It was lumbering toward Dohi and Tanaka, who were almost back to the vehicle now. Rico and Apollo were already inside, and she was shouting like a madwoman.

  Fitz waited for a clear shot, but Dohi and Tanaka were both in the way. He couldn’t risk killing them with friendly fire.

  “Dohi, Tanaka, get out of—” His scream was interrupted by a thump. Halfway down the street, a red streak hit the black shell of the Beetle, sending the monster smashing into a brick wall. It exploded in a shower of gore.

  An M1A1 Abrams tank rolled around the corner and smashed through the barricade. The sky filled with tracer rounds, shredding the remaining Reavers, including the beast holding Stevenson.

  Stevenson’s body plummeted to the ground, where it cracked on the pavement outside the church. The sound of diesel engines and tracks echoed through the village as Colonel Bradley and the Twenty-Fourth MEU arrived. For Sergeant Hugh Stevenson, the cavalry had been one minute too late.

  19

  Quick and steady, Rachel.

  She crouched behind a wall of bushes about a quarter mile from the Greenbrier. From her vantage point, she could see why President Ringgold had selected this place as the new seat of government. The colonial-style architecture was classic, and its beauty seemed to provide a beacon of hope amid the destruction and chaos of the world. The main building was reminiscent of the old White House, but it was set in the perfect area, nestled between the mountains and forests of West Virginia. The hundreds of windows and sprawling grounds would be difficult to defend, though.

  She brought her M4’s scope to her night-vision optics and magnified the main structure, a six-story building with seven hundred rooms looking over a parking lot and stately English-style gardens. It was clear they had once been beautiful, with meticulous landscaping, geometric flower beds, fountains, and cobblestone paths.

  She moved the sights toward the windows of the building, looking for any sign of ROT soldiers who might be waiting in ambush. Next, she checked the archways over the entrance.

  Two scans revealed zero contacts, so she took a moment to admire the gardens again while she waited for Senior Chief Blade to give orders to SEAL Team Four. Before the military, she had considered being an architect or teacher, but neither of those careers would have served her well—not enough adrenaline.

  She felt the spike in her system saturating her nerve endings when she saw movement on the front lawn. Blade, who was standing next to a tree a few feet away, raised his rifle and directed it at the silhouette of a monster hunting in front of the resort.

  Davis didn’t need to zoom in to see the creature was infected with the hemorrhage virus. The beast moved on all fours across the grass. It still wore fatigues but was missing a weapon and helmet. The monster in the gardens ran toward a row of bushes and then pounced. I
ts humped spine rose above the leaves like the back of a whale surfacing in dark waters.

  Three seconds later, the beast emerged holding a prize in its maw. Reaching up, it grabbed the rabbit by the head and legs and then tore it in half, warm blood coating the grass.

  The low crack of a suppressed shot came from the trees to Davis’s left, where Dixon had fired a round from his MK16. By the time Davis found the infected beast again in her sights, it was facedown in the grass, with a 5.56-millimeter slug wedged in its skull.

  “Tango down,” Blade whispered.

  The six-man, one-woman SEAL team moved out of cover and fanned out into the gardens with calculated precision, at combat intervals. Gun barrels swept the shadows, covering high and low. Blade flashed hand signals as they crossed the wet lawns, breaking the team into two. Alpha headed toward the building’s right wing, and Bravo moved toward the left.

  Davis followed Blade, Dixon, and Melnick across a driveway and through the grass set along the west side of a parking lot. The trees here were decorative and far too small to provide cover. But if there were more infected out here, cover wasn’t going to matter much anyway.

  Bravo team, led by Watson, made it to the right wing of the building without contacting any hostiles. That was where the hemorrhage missile had exploded, according to Ringgold’s people. Premission intel was often shoddy, however, and Davis saw no evidence of any explosion.

  She jogged through the maze of abandoned vehicles and Humvees left behind during the evacuation. Blade was on point, with his rifle shouldered, at the entrance of the building. He stopped at the end of the pavement, balled his hand, and flashed signals to take cover.

  Davis picked a minivan and took up position next to Melnick. The medic was young, probably the youngest man on the team, with bright green eyes and a baby face to boot. He raised his MK16 and directed the AAC SCAR suppressor around the end of the minivan.

  “Hostile at two o’clock,” he whispered.

  Two suppressed cracks sounded, and Davis followed Melnick back into the parking lot without even looking to see if the bogey was down. SEALs didn’t miss, especially not this close to their targets.