Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12

by Dirk Patton

  Thanking him, the Admiral turned and headed into the building. Captain Black, expecting he would be waiting for an ambulance, rushed to catch up with him.

  “No hospital, sir?”

  They swept through a security checkpoint and boarded an elevator. The Admiral leaned forward and peered into a retina scanner. When the screen turned green, he pressed an unmarked button on the panel.

  “Hospitals are for the Army, Captain,” Packard growled.

  Black snorted a laugh then fell silent as the elevator car began descending. It kept going for nearly a minute, finally stopping on a level the Marine Captain had rarely been to. When the doors slid open, four heavily armed Marines were waiting. They stepped back, staring at the Admiral when he strode into the large vestibule with Black in tow.

  “You’ll need to wait out here, Captain.”

  Packard had paused at a heavy steel, blast door. Black acknowledged and backed away as the Admiral submitted to another retinal scan. Again, the panel turned green and with a rumble, the large door slid open. The Captain caught a glimpse of a massive room full of computer terminals before Packard passed inside and the door trundled closed, sealing with a solid boom he felt in his feet.

  “Is the Admiral OK, sir?”

  One of the guards stepped up next to Black.

  “He’s one tough old sailor, that’s for sure,” the Captain replied.

  Inside the room, several people looked up when the door closed. Several of them did a double take at the sight of Admiral Packard. His uniform was stained bright red, his thinning hair was a mess and blood was already beginning to seep through the thick bandage on his arm. A Navy Captain rushed forward to greet him.

  “Sir. I wasn’t expecting you. Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine, Captain. Point me at Seaman Simmons.”

  “Yes, sir,” the man said, hesitating for a beat before turning. “She’s right over there, with Captain West.”

  Packard nodded and strode across the floor. Jessica looked up and saw him coming, leaping to her feet with a look of concern on her face. Captain West turned and came forward to meet the Admiral.

  “Sir? What’s happened?”

  He took a closer look at the Admiral, assessing his health.

  “Russian advance team took a shot at me,” Packard said dismissively before turning to face Jessica. “Seaman. How is your work coming? We need our comms and surveillance back.”

  “Uh, well… sir,” Jessica stammered, thrown off by the Admiral’s condition. “I just loaded an updated anti-virus program, and it’s running. This is my fourth attempt to eradicate the Russian worm. I’ve gotten some of it, but if I don’t get it all, it just rebuilds itself and keeps on chewing through code.”

  “Are you optimistic this iteration will be successful?” The Admiral asked.

  “Cautiously, yes sir. I’ve learned from each of the past failed attempts. I’m hopeful this one will be it.”

  Packard looked at her for a long moment, then slowly lowered himself into an empty chair. Pulling out the bottle of Tylenol, he shook four of them into his hand and dry swallowed them.

  “Sir, shouldn’t you be in the hospital?” Jessica asked, after rushing across the room and retrieving a bottle of water from a small refrigerator.

  The Admiral waved off her concerns and drained the bottle without stopping.

  “Seaman, forgive my ignorance, but we have a protected copy of the code the Russians infected, don’t we?”

  “Yes, sir. We do.”

  “Well, that’s good. What I don’t understand is why you can’t do what the Geek Squad did when my personal, home computer was badly infected a few years ago. They wiped it clean and reinstalled the operating system. It worked fine after that.”

  Jessica exchanged a quick glance with Captain West before answering. She was concerned that Packard obviously didn’t remember that had been the first thing she had tried.

  “Sir, that was one of the first things I tried when we found the virus. It didn’t work.”

  “Explain,” the Admiral said.

  “Sir, because of the nature of the interconnected systems, the worm didn’t just infect us here in Hawaii. It was quickly spread to every ship and aircraft that was online. And, while I can’t access them currently to verify, I am confident it has also infected all of our remaining communication and surveillance satellites, as well as the Thor System.

  “What happened was, I wiped every server in Hawaii clean, and started over with a fresh copy of the Battlespace Software. At first, it seemed as if that would work, but then as soon it made contact with a remote server that was still infected, we wound up right back at square one. If there’s a trace of this worm left anywhere, it will rebuild and replicate itself and start spreading.

  “The only way to regain full command and control of our assets is to eradicate the worm completely, not just here, but on every server we are in communication with. Failing that, it will not be possible to bring the system back online.”

  Packard had listened attentively. When Jessica finished speaking, he looked at his aide.

  “Captain, I believe you’ve tried to explain this to me,” he said.

  “Yes sir, but not nearly so eloquent as Seaman Simmons.”

  Packard stood and looked at Jessica.

  “Make it work, Seaman. We’re out of time. The Russians will be here soon, and it’s going to get very bloody.”

  39

  I raised my rifle, preparing to shoot the bitch that had just given us away, but I never pulled the trigger. Almost immediately, there was an answering chorus of screams, followed by dozens of leaping forms that began pouring over the seawall onto the beach.

  “Move!” I shouted.

  Dashing to the closest boat, I grabbed a handle set high on the sharply raked bow. Lifting, I started dragging it across the sand, towards the water. The damn thing was heavier than it looked and I wasn’t making much progress. More screams sent a surge of adrenaline through my system and I pulled harder as I glanced over my shoulder.

  Females were charging through the deep sand, more of them than I could quickly count. And, they were still leaping over the wall onto the beach. The hotel must have been full of them. The only good news was the footing I’d been bitching about was slowing their normally terrifying speed. But not enough.

  The boat suddenly surged forward, and I nearly lost my balance. Rachel and Tiffany were pushing on the stern. Dog stood in the sand behind them, facing the coming onslaught of infected. He had to recognize the impossible odds, but wasn’t fazed.

  Working together, we reached the wet, hard packed sand and were able to pick up speed. I pulled with every ounce of strength I had. Wanting to turn my head to see how close the females were, I resisted the urge. Looking away would slow me down, and if we didn’t make it into the water, we were dead. There were way too many for us to hope to make a successful stand.

  Three seconds later I met the first wave head on. It crashed against my legs, soaking me to the waist and lifting the bow of the boat. I fought against it but made no progress until its energy was spent. I splashed forward, pulling hard as the bow remained afloat on top of the receding water.

  More screams from behind and I heard Dog’s savage snarls as he began battling a female. The next wave roared in, lifting the bow above my head and drenching me. Somehow I managed to prevent it from pushing the boat back towards the shore. It rushed under the hull, lifting the small craft clear of the sand.

  Spitting saltwater, I screamed at the girls.

  “Keep going!”

  I turned for the beach to help Dog slow the infected. I knew the females couldn’t swim and wouldn’t be able to follow, but they could overwhelm us before we reached water deep enough to stop their advance. The boat had to be out far enough to be safe, then Dog and I could swim out. I hoped.

  High stepping through the surf, I moved past Rachel and Tiffany as they struggled against the force of the ocean. Drawing my Ka-Bar, I stepped out
of the water and slashed open the throat of a leaping female. I ducked to the side, and her body flashed past. Spinning, I located Dog, who had already killed two and was locked in battle with a third.

  I had to twist as another infected charged with outstretched hands. She was young, wearing a tattered gown that looked like she’d fallen victim to the virus during her Quinceañera, or coming of age celebration. When this whole thing started, I might have paused in sympathy for what had happened to an innocent 15-year-old girl. By now, I’d lost all compassion for whom the infected had once been.

  Slicing down, with my weight behind it, the blade cut through her wrist and severed her hand. She didn’t so much as blink, grabbing a fistful of my sleeve with her other. Continuing the turn, I brought the tip of the blade up and into her throat, ending her life. Kicking her body aside, I moved a step closer to Dog, who was having a harder time than normal.

  The female he was fighting was huge. Probably larger than me, and even though he was faster, Dog hadn’t succeeded in getting past her thick arms to find a vital spot. I started forward to help him but had to battle two more infected that leapt at me simultaneously.

  I managed to avoid the first, inflicting a deep wound across her stomach, but the second one slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. She immediately wrapped me up, trying to reach my face with her teeth, and we rolled into the water.

  Unprepared, I inhaled seawater and my throat and lungs locked up. Panic surged, and I frantically began hitting her with the hand holding the knife as I flailed with my other. After what felt like an eternity, I locked onto her throat and squeezed for all I was worth.

  My fingers hadn’t fully encircled her neck, and as I applied pressure, their tips sank in on either side of her trachea. Pulse pounding in my ears, I dug in until they pierced her flesh, then tore her throat out. Hot blood splashed across my face as she went limp, then another wave inundated me and washed it away.

  Struggling to my feet, still unable to breathe, I whipped my rifle around and slammed the stock into the face of my next attacker. She was stopped cold, dropping dead or unconscious into the water at my feet. Dozens more were right behind her as the main body of the small herd approached the compacted sand.

  Aiming, I pulled the trigger just as a wracking cough hit me. My body expelled the seawater, violently, throwing the rifle off. Trying to control my convulsing lungs, I reacquired my targets and pulled and held the trigger. Bodies fell as I quickly ran through a full magazine.

  Dropping the empty and slapping in a fresh one, I kept firing, aiming for knees and hips. Right now I didn’t care if they were dead. I just needed to slow them down and buy some time.

  Dog had finished off the big female and was scrambling off her corpse when he was tackled by a flying body. I shot the three females who were right behind his attacker before they could join the fray. His snarls were loud, drowning out the roar of the surf and my suppressed, full-auto fire, but that was probably because I was focused on him as I kept fighting.

  Another magazine change, and I finally remembered to check on Rachel and Tiffany. I glanced over my shoulder, surprised to see the boat floating fifty yards off shore. They both stood, apparently shouting at me that they were clear, but I hadn’t heard them during the heat of battle.

  Screaming for Dog, I began backing into the surf while still firing. Females were dropping, but there were still more coming than I could handle with a single rifle. A wave crashed into my back, nearly knocking me over and causing me to waste half a magazine that fired uselessly into the sand.

  Regaining my balance, I took another step back, now in water above my waist. Firing, I screamed again for Dog but didn’t have even a heartbeat to look for him. More than twenty females were in the surf, struggling against the waves as they tried to reach me.

  I kept firing, shooting one who was hardly more than an arm’s length away. Another step back and the water was to my chest. A wave broke over my head, momentarily submerging me and masking my view of the infected. It passed quickly, and I emerged, blowing water out of my mouth and nose as I resumed firing.

  Where the fuck was Dog? I screamed for him again, still not seeing him and no longer hearing his snarls. I took another step back to stand in neck deep water. Spread out to my front, female heads bobbed as they continued wading out to attack me. Firing the rifle was becoming problematic as I had to hold it over my head so it was clear of the water.

  My aim suffered, rounds punching into the surface of the water well off target. Hands flailed beneath the surface, grasping for my body. There were too many. If they were able to get a solid hold, I would be dragged under and overwhelmed by their numbers.

  With another scream for Dog, I pushed away from the females into water over my head. Letting the rifle drop to hang from its sling, I swam backward, fighting to keep my head above the surface. At least I was now bobbing with the waves instead of having them crash over me.

  Somehow, my night vision goggles had remained in place through the fight. I had a good view of the females in the water, and they were already struggling to return to dry land. One of them went under and didn’t reappear. I didn’t care. I wanted to spot Dog.

  I was now more than forty feet from the beach and nearly jumped out of my skin when a hand grabbed the back of my collar and pulled hard. Whipping my head around, I reached for the arm, expecting to see an infected who had been carried out this far and had managed to latch on.

  “Get in the goddamn boat!”

  Rachel screamed in my face as she hauled on me, nearly pulling herself into the water in the process. Tiffany was next to her, a long handled paddle in her hands as she worked hard to control the boat. Between them, looking like a drowned rat, Dog stood with his head hanging over the rail as he stared at me with his tongue hanging out.

  40

  It took some effort, actually a lot of effort, but with Rachel’s help, I finally managed to haul my big ass into the boat. As I flopped onto my back, dripping water, Rachel grabbed another paddle and helped Tiffany move us far enough off shore to be away from the influence of the surf.

  Dog, also soaked to the skin, sat and looked down at me. Water was steadily dripping off his muzzle, falling on my face, but I didn’t care. Reaching up I rubbed his ears, and he slowly lay down until his head was resting on my chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

  “Thought I lost you, fur face,” I said softly.

  His big eyes looked at me for a moment, then slowly closed. As the girls paddled, I closed mine, too.

  “What the hell were you doing?” Rachel asked.

  I cracked open an eye and looked at her. She was holding her paddle out of the water, looking down from where she was seated on a built in bench.

  “Buying us time,” I mumbled.

  Dog opened his eyes when I spoke, then when he didn’t see anything interesting, closed them again with a sigh.

  “We were screaming at you. He heard us and swam out, but you just kept fighting. We had to paddle back in and get you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, giving her a grin.

  “You really should pay more attention,” Tiffany said.

  I looked at her and thought about saying something really sarcastic, but she was a bit young for that side of my personality. She’d shown she was more than capable of contributing, and might take my comment as a slight. Nothing would be farther from the truth.

  “You’re right,” I settled for saying.

  Moving Dog’s big head off my chest, I sat up and looked around. We were more than a hundred yards offshore, bobbing in gentle swells. The beach was full of females. Nearly half of them stood in place, watching us, while the rest paced back and forth. Occasionally, one of them would step into the surf, but would quickly retreat when a wave crashed against her legs.

  We seemed to be slowly drifting south and east. Tiffany frequently had to stick her paddle in the water for a few strokes to keep us away from the shore. The wind was pushing us
towards the beach, which was to the east. The southerly drift could only be explained by a current.

  Climbing up on the bench next to Rachel, I took a longer look around. Nothing but empty, dark stretches of water in every direction other than east. I knew we were near the northern reaches of the Sea of Cortez, and it was roughly 80 miles to the Baja shoreline.

  What I didn’t have a good idea of was how the hell we were going to search for the pilot in a rowboat. I sat there, trying to recall what I did know about the Sea of Cortez as we kept slowly drifting south. I knew that in the scheme of things it was a very small body of water. But, scale is relative. Sitting there in the tiny, wooden boat without even a trolling motor, it felt as large as the Pacific Ocean.

  “What next?” Rachel asked after several minutes.

  I looked back towards the beach, unhappy to see that the females were following us. We weren’t far enough out to sea to be hidden from them, and as we drifted, they paced us. Had to do something about that.

  “First thing,” I said, pointing at the beach. “We need to get far enough out for them to lose sight of us.”

  “Then what? We can’t perform a search in this thing.”

  I nodded, my attention drifting to the small marina at Rocky Point, still more than a couple of miles south.

  “We head straight out so they quit following,” I said. “Once we lose them, we come back in, nice and quiet. Paddle into the marina and find a fishing boat. There used to be some nice big boats for sport fishing that ran out of here. Hopefully one of them is still there. It’ll be fast.”

  Rachel looked at me for a long moment, then nodded her head. Without saying anything else, she dipped her paddle and began stroking. Tiffany had heard the conversation and joined the effort. Soon, we were moving at not much more than a snail’s pace. But, at least the beach full of females was finally receding.

  “Are you just going to sit there and watch us work?” Rachel asked forty minutes later.

  I was sitting in the middle of one of the benches, watching the eastern shoreline slowly fade away. Dog was stretched out in the bottom of the boat, asleep on top of my feet.