Mega 6: No Man’s Island

by Jake Bible

  From out of the shadows came six dead sentries. They lunged and grabbed one of the deckhands, pulling him back into the shadows. The man’s screams for help were cut off with a wet gurgle.

  “We run!” Thorne said.

  Those were two words nobody wanted to hear. None of them were in the best physical shape after their encounter with Wire and her people.

  The group moved as fast as they could. Most of them limped and hobbled along the dirt road, then fell as one of the many ruts sent them falling to the ground. Wire had designed the island well. There was no way to get down the road fast, whether using a vehicle or legs.

  The dead sentries took advantage of the road’s intentional flaws and fell as well. But not to the ground. They fell on the closest person they could grab. A second then third deckhand was lost. They were at a distinct disadvantage since they were unarmed. It made sense to have the operators use the weapons, but that didn’t insulate the deckhands from the threat. It only minimized the amount of dead sentries that got past the gunfire and to the terrified humans.

  “Shit!” Darren yelled as a dead sentry grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him backwards.

  The thing opened a rotted mouth and showed Darren the six teeth it had left in its head. But six teeth could still do damage. The dead sentry sank its teeth into Darren’s shoulder. Then the back of its head exploded into a mess of stinking brains and clotted blood.

  “A little close,” Darren said as he caught Shane’s eye.

  “I’m just that good, man,” Shane said as he reached out and pulled Darren along.

  The group pushed on, moving forward meter by meter as they shot down as many dead sentries as they could before they ran out of ammunition. That happened a lot sooner than any of them expected. When the last M4 went silent, there was a stunned pause. But the pause only lasted a second before the weapons were spun around and the clubbing began.

  Max took the heads off two dead sentries with one swing then took the head off a third as he brought the swing back. The M4 in his grip bent slightly at the stock from the impacts, but it didn’t lessen the empty weapon’s deadly effects.

  Shane stopped five dead sentries by charging them barrel first. He pierced their soft bellies and speared the five all in a row before ramming them up against the fence that was still intact. It took five dead sentries out of the equation, but he lost his M4 in the process.

  “Here!” Lake shouted as he threw Shane a good-sized branch that had fallen from one of the many trees that filled the area. “Don’t stop swinging!”

  Five dead sentries tackled Lake and he screamed as one of them bit into the upper bicep of his left arm. Shane then Darren converged on the group of sentries and yanked them off Lake then bludgeoned each of them until they stopped moving. Lake struggled to his feet on his own, his hand clamped against the wound.

  “You okay?” Darren asked just after punching a sentry so hard in the face that his fist slid halfway through the dead man’s skull. He pulled free and flicked gunk from his hand. “Marty? You good?”

  “These are tech-made zombies, right?” Lake yelled. “We’re not going to turn into one of them, are we?”

  “Fuck, I hope not,” Darren said. “If we do, then let’s make sure the first person we eat is Ballantine.”

  “Deal,” Lake said.

  “Keep moving!” Thorne yelled from a couple meters ahead. “I can see the harbor!”

  That announcement seemed to bolster the group’s resolve and they all doubled their efforts to kill and destroy as many dead sentries as they could. They pressed on, fighting for every inch, every foot, every last step they could in order to get to the harbor and hopefully the safety of the Resurrection. If anyone thought about Darby or Ballantine being left behind, the thoughts were brief.

  Except for Max. As the group broke from the tree line and were within sight of the dock, Max slowed and looked back over his shoulder at the way they’d come.

  “Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You got this shit.”

  Then he joined the others as they moved onto the dock and hurried towards the gangplank of the Resurrection.

  The men appearing at the top of the gangplank with M4s aimed down at them instantly took the steam out of the group.

  “Going somewhere?” Mordecai asked.

  Chapter Seventeen: If Mommy Ain’t Happy Then No One Is Happy!

  The slaughter was fast and efficient, over in seconds.

  “Clear,” Darby said as she stepped out of the command center and wheeled Ballantine inside. “Where do you want me to put you?”

  “That looks like the main console there,” Ballantine said. “Perhaps when you are done wheeling me over, you could see about getting me free without blowing me up? Kinda need to pee.”

  “Hold it,” Darby said. “I have your hands free, that’s what matters.”

  “Of course,” Ballantine said. “I appreciate the effort that took, but full mobility would be ideal.”

  “I had to defuse three sets of explosives to allow you to keep your hands and stay alive,” Darby said. “Do you honestly think we have time to figure out that entire contraption Wire put you in?”

  “No, you’re right,” Ballantine agreed. “Free hands are good enough for now. Maybe a pistol close by?”

  “You got me close by,” Darby said as she got Ballantine to the control console.

  “Yes, I know that, but you have a more important task to take care of than guarding me,” Ballantine said.

  “What? You want me to leave you here alone?” Darby asked.

  “Want? Hell no,” Ballantine responded. “Need? Unfortunately, yes. Wire will not rest. She won’t go into hiding. She’s working out how to attack us without getting killed. Not an easy thing to accomplish considering our combined skills.”

  “You’re strapped to a chair straight out of Mad Max,” Darby said.

  “The fact you are able to make pop culture references like that gives some hope that your brain is finally stabilizing,” Ballantine said. “Any chance I’m correct?”

  “My mind is clearer, yeah,” Darby said. “Stable? No fucking way.”

  “Well, at least your instability is on my side,” Ballantine said as he reached forward and began toggling through screen views and different systems the console controlled. “Oh, will you look at that. Thorne and company have made it to the harbor. And…they’re captured. Again.”

  “Is Max alive?” Darby asked, leaning past Ballantine to get a look.

  “Hey!” a man shouted from the command center’s doorway.

  Darby didn’t even turn. She aimed her pistol behind her and fired. The man screamed then fell to the floor dead with a heavy thunk. Darby ejected the magazine and put in a fresh one.

  “Darby, I need you to focus on Wire, not Max,” Ballantine said.

  Darby slowly turned her head and stared at Ballantine’s profile.

  “But, I am sure you can focus on Wire and think about Max’s wellbeing simultaneously,” he said quickly.

  “Yeah, I can,” Darby said and returned her attention to the screens. “Find him, Ballantine. I want confirmation that he is alive and well when I get back.”

  “No pressure there,” Ballantine said.

  “Plenty of pressure,” Darby said. “Now, where would Wire go? Do we have a schematic of the island available?”

  “I am hunting for that right now,” Ballantine said as his fingers moved furiously across a keyboard. “This would be much easier if I had full range of motion.”

  “It’d be much easier if you hadn’t gotten us in this shit in the first place,” Darby said.

  “Darby? Et tu?” Ballantine replied with a chuckle. “Yes, you have a point. But trust me when I say that in the end, you’ll see exactly what I was working towards.”

  “Assuming you live to the end to show me,” Darby said.

  “You did not include yourself in that statement,” Ballantine said. “I’m assuming that your assumption is you will most defin
itely survive. Or are my assumptions, coupled with your assumption, making asses out of you and me?”

  Ballantine laughed. Darby shook her head.

  “Schematic,” Darby snapped.

  “Got it right here,” Ballantine said as larger video screen mounted on the wall above the console came to life. “We are…here.”

  A red dot appeared on the facility’s floor plans. Ballantine zoomed out to show the entire island. The keys clacked and clicked and labels for specific regions started appearing in green, superimposed over various structures and areas.

  “That right there,” Darby said, pointing to one area that had no labels. There was a structure in place according to the schematic, but the structure had no name. “What it doesn’t tell us is telling us everything.”

  “You sounded like me when you said that,” Ballantine responded. “You make me proud.”

  “Shove it,” Darby said and pushed away from Ballantine and the control console. “You want a weapon?”

  “I do,” Ballantine said. “If you could put one within reach, that would be delightful.”

  “Will do,” Darby said.

  She moved about the room, removing all the weapons from all the corpses. A couple of rifles and carbines, but mostly pistols and knives, were what she piled on the console next to Ballantine. He scrambled to shut down the systems that she activated as the heavy weapons inadvertently pressed buttons and moved levers.

  “A little more careful next time, please,” Ballantine said then glanced at the weapons cache. “Oh, that should be plenty.”

  “I’m taking a couple,” Darby said as she studied what was available.

  She grabbed up a sleek bullpup and studied it for a second.

  “Nice heft and feel,” Darby said. “Short and comfortable. This was a personal weapon.”

  She turned to the corpses.

  “Thanks,” she said as she ejected the magazine and looked at the cartridges inside. “.45s. Nice. Makes this easy.”

  She slung the bullpup over her shoulder and chose two .45 pistols from the pile and four combat knives.

  “Four knives?” Ballantine asked.

  “In case I have to climb,” Darby said.

  “Yes, of course,” Ballantine said, chuckling. “In case you have to climb.”

  A shot rang out. One of the knives left Darby’s hand. It found its target, which happened to be the throat of a guard that had appeared at the doorway. The woman fell face first into the command center.

  “I’m going to have to lock you in here,” Darby said. “You cool with that?”

  “More cool than being shot in the back of the head by any unwanted visitors,” Ballantine said. “Lock away.”

  Darby started to move away then she paused and reached out, snapping up something in her hand. She stared at it.

  “Whatcha got there?” Ballantine asked.

  “Com,” Darby said. She gave Ballantine a questioning look.

  “It’s most certainly compromised,” Ballantine said in answer to the look. “Wire will be listening.”

  Darby smiled. Ballantine smiled.

  Darby put the com in her ear then double-checked the schematic of the island one last time before patting Ballantine on the cheek. Then she ran from the command center. Darby slammed the door and the distinct sound of locks sliding into place echoed in the room. Then there were four shots, a few sparks, and the smell of burning metal and plastic.

  “All by myself,” Ballantine half sang.

  ***

  “Get your armor on then move ass to the upper deck!” Kinsey ordered.

  No one argued, not even Delana or operators under her command. And there were a lot. The entire contingent of operators that had been recruited to take down Wire were scrambling to get suited up, armed, and out of the hold. The ship rocked hard to starboard and half the operators fell to the floor, sliding sideways to the wall as the ship continued to list dangerously.

  It was the fifth time the ship had been knocked sideways. But unlike the other times, the Fallback did not self-correct and return to an upright position. It stayed sideways and the operators had to scramble over and around each other to get back to their dropped suits and equipment that had become entangled with the bolted-down legs of the many tables that had been set up for the assembly-line production of the armor.

  “The ship has taken on too much water!” Popeye yelled as he braced himself against one of the exit hatches. “We’re gonna need to get going! Now!”

  “I know, Popeye!” Kinsey said as she managed to get to her feet and grab a carbine that had slid against her leg. “Stop yelling that!”

  “We’re done here!” Delana announced. “Follow me! We’ll get to the lifeboats then pray to God we can make it to the island!”

  Kinsey didn’t respond to that announcement. Delana was echoing her own thoughts.

  “This way,” Delana said as she stumbled past Kinsey and climbed her way up the angled floor to the closest hatch.

  Kinsey and the B3 crew members followed her with the Fallback operators right behind. The ship rocked hard and began to tilt even more. By the time they reached the hatch, they were climbing at close to an eighty-five-degree angle. Several operators lost their footing and grip and fell down to the opposite wall that had suddenly become a floor.

  With a clear understanding of what they were up against, no one stopped their escape to try to rescue the fallen operators despite shouts and pleas for assistance. It would have been a futile effort even if there were those willing to risk almost certain failure to help their comrades. With a sputter and last bright flash, the lights went out, plunging everyone into complete and total darkness.

  “Follow my voice!” Delana shouted from the hatch.

  She kept shouting, calling to those that were still hanging on, until everyone was out of the hold and into the adjoining passageway. By that time, emergency lights kicked in and those that managed to escape the hold were bathed in a blood-red glow. Delana yelled orders and pointed in the right direction. No one paused, they all ran-stumbled their way along the angled passageway to the first set of stairs.

  The stairs were closer to a sideways ladder than actual steps at that angle. Kinsey and the B3 crew were the first up and they paused only long enough for Kinsey to figure out which way to go. Then they were off, half running along the wall, until they found the next set of ladder stairs.

  Up and up they went. Before long they made it onto the upper deck.

  It was complete chaos. Men and women were strapping themselves to whatever they could, using whatever they could grab. Rope, electrical wiring, belts, straps from life preservers, anything.

  “Kins…” Gunnar said. “They aren’t leaving.”

  “Where are the lifeboats?” Kinsey yelled as operators poured out behind them and Delana finally appeared. “Hey! What the fuck?”

  Delana looked about. There was some lighting from the emergency lights that were working, but other than that, it was close to pitch black up on deck. Even the stars were occluded by a blanket of clouds heavy with tropical rain that was about to come pouring down any minute.

  “If there are any left, they’d be there,” Delana said, pointing at the part of the ship that was quickly sliding into the water. “They’re underwater. They’re gone.”

  Another impact knocked everyone off their feet. Most had been precariously balanced on the deck to begin with. Those that hadn’t found something to grab went flying down towards the water. Bodies slammed into each other then slammed into equipment and finally the last bit of gunwale that wasn’t submerged. Men and women screamed then went silent as necks snapped and operators and crew became corpses to float in the oncoming water.

  “Fuck,” Kinsey said and turned to look at the gunwale behind and above her. “We go this way.”

  “And what then?” Delana asked. “We get up over the side and we’ll slide down the hull into the open water. That thing will eat us all.”

  “That thing is de
signed to seek and destroy ships first,” Kinsey said. “Once it accomplishes that, which it’s doing pretty fucking well at, then it starts looking for human snacks. That buys us some time. As long as the ship is still above water, we can put some distance between us and it.”

  “We’re gonna want to put distance between us and this ship anyway,” Popeye said. “A sinking ship this size will suck our asses down with it.”

  “That,” Kinsey said, pointing at Popeye as she stared at Delana. “Got any more arguments or do you want to listen to the people that have had to do this shit a few times before?”

  Kinsey didn’t wait for an answer. She gestured to the B3 crew members then jumped at the gunwale, grabbed ahold, and flipped her legs up over the side. Once settled, she extended a hand and helped Lucy up. Lucy then settled and did the same. The two women managed to get everyone they could up and over the side.

  Then they all stared at the black, churning waters below.

  “No time to wait,” Kinsey said and let go of the ship.

  She slid down the hull and was glad she had on the new armor. Her body caught and scraped along seams and rivets. If she’d only been in pants and a T-shirt, she would have been a shredded, bloody mess by the time she hit the water. And that impact was another reason she was glad to have the armor.

  She slammed into the water and the breath was knocked from her lungs, but only for a split second. Kinsey struggled to breathe, caught a long gasp, then began to stroke as hard and fast as her arms could. The first major limitation of the armor presented itself as Kinsey realized her range of motion was compromised around her shoulders. Oh, well, nothing she could do about it except compensate for the setback by kicking her legs harder.

  There were plenty of shouts and cries as others hit the water, but Kinsey didn’t look over her shoulder. She continued to swim. Popeye was one hundred percent right that when the ship finally went all the way under, it was gonna suck them all down with it. Seeing who made it to the water without snapping their necks was a pointless exercise. Once safely away, at least from the ship, she could assess who was left.