He glanced over at Smith, who smiled and joined in with the applause.
Maybe I’m getting closer to mastering that gaze after all, Jensen thought.
-10-
Echo 3 tilted slightly to the east and swooped low over the teal ocean waves. Beckham rested on his side next to the edge of the open chopper door. A female nurse whose name he didn’t know was hovering over him and treating his injuries.
He looked down at the reflection of the chopper flickering in the water. The thump of the blades drowned out her voice. When he didn’t respond, she leaned down next to his ear and said, “This is going to burn.”
He winced as she pressed an antiseptic pad against the cut over his left eye. The pain told him it was deep. Maybe even stitches deep.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
With a nod, she crouch-walked to another patient. Beckham scooted closer to the edge of the open door. Echo 3 was filled to the brim with passengers, some of them dangling their legs over the side next to him.
They were safe now—a miracle by anyone’s standards. But surviving was both a blessing and a curse. He caught the gaze of a child sitting in a soldier’s lap. It was the same boy he’d given his gas mask to. He looked six, maybe seven years old. Where Beckham saw an innocent child, the Variants saw food.
The monsters were the most ruthless enemy he’d ever faced. Children, women, the injured—they were all the same in the eyes of the creatures.
Beckham rested his helmet on the floor. The long flight back to Plum Island would give him plenty of time to replay the mission. He’d safely evacuated everyone from Fort Bragg, but what he’d seen during the escape had changed his opinion on the war. The Variant that had broken his face wasn’t some barbarian. He was the general of a demon army.
Rolling on his back, Beckham glanced up at the refugees. Faces blurred together as the morphine took hold.
“Almost there,” a man said.
The sunlight shifted into his eyes. Beckham blinked and saw the dirt-stained face of Fitz staring down at him.
“Nice shooting back there,” Beckham said.
Fitz smiled and then looked down. “I was the best in my unit when I was a Marine, before an IED took my legs. But I still got it!”
Beckham chuckled and said, "You're still a Marine."
“Yeah," Fitz said. "Hang in there, man; we're heading home."
The bird pulled to the right and the light faded, darkness filling Beckham’s field of vision. He closed his eyes and held his hand over his shirt pocket, thinking of his mom as the chopper descended. For the first time, he was glad she was in a better place. At least she had been spared the horrors of this new world.
The rumble from a low-flying jet faded away, and with it went the clicking of the monsters as they retreated into the sewers.
Rex was hunched over, his face pressed against the boards. “Are they gone?” he asked, tilting his head. “Looks like they’re gone.”
Meg watched the final creature disappear into a manhole and then returned to her bed, collapsing onto the sheets. The roller coaster of near-death experiences had taken a toll on her. God, she just wanted to sleep. She’d been up for how long now? She’d lost track, the hours blending together.
“Think they live down there?” Rex asked.
“Obviously,” Jed said. “They don’t just go down there for shits and giggles.”
Rex backed away from the window and glared at the Marine. Then, without a word, he walked back to his bunk and grabbed a bag of chips.
Hours slipped by as Meg dozed in and out of sleep. Her dreams took her back to the world she missed so desperately, to barbeques with her husband and friends. But every time she awoke, reality would slowly kick in, filling her with a sickening dread. She’d wrap her fingers around her axe handle, but the cold steel prompted flashbacks of its own—to the moment she had taken her best friend’s life.
The struggle for sleep brought with it a different type of torture. Anxiety forced her eyes open and she stared at the ceiling fan over her bed. The walls around her seemed to narrow, squeezing. She felt like a caged animal, and she wanted out.
Meg swung her feet over the side of the bed onto the cold floor. The overcast sky had cooled the room, and the wind outside wouldn’t let up. Jed had replaced Rex at the boarded-up windows, keeping a watchful eye over the streets.
Crossing the floor as quietly as she could, Meg joined him. “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Maybe we should move.”
Rex responded from his bunk exactly the way Meg thought he would. The man’s freckled nose tensed and his eyebrows came together to form a single red brow. “Are you crazy?”
Meg looked to Jed for support. The Marine’s chiseled jaw remained stiff, his features stone cold. He put an eye back to the gap in the window and scouted the rooftops.
“We haven’t seen any survivors for days. Haven’t even heard a shot fired,” Meg said, keeping her voice just above a whisper. “Our supplies won’t last forever, and those things will be back.”
“I’m not leaving, Meg,” Rex said. The bag of chips crinkled in his trembling hands.
Before Meg could respond, Jed grabbed Rex by the arm and commanded his gaze. “You need to get your shit together. Be a fucking man.”
A floorboard creaked above, and their eyes all gravitated to the ceiling. Meg’s imagination raced. She would have ignored that sound three weeks ago, but now it terrified her. Every familiar noise was a possible threat. She and the two men stared at the ceiling for what felt like eternity. Another gust of wind pushed at the building, making the old wood frame settle and creak again. Meg let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“You’re right,” Jed finally said. “We need to get out of here. At the very least we need to find some weapons.” He scanned Rex from boots to receding hairline. “If you don’t want to come, then you can stay here.”
Rex shook his head, pleading with hands outstretched. “You can’t leave me.”
“We can. And we will,” Jed replied. “If we stay, we die.”
Meg caught a drift of sour, rotting fruit in the stagnant air. Every muscle in her body tensed. But the stench quickly passed. Was she finally losing it?
“They’re least active in the afternoon, when it’s hot. I say we pack our shit and start planning,” Jed said.
“Where will we go?” Rex asked.
“My squad was ambushed ten blocks from here. I say we start there, load up on guns, and find a vehicle.”
“We’re just going to drive on out of the city?” Rex snorted. “Great plan.”
“Better than sitting here and waiting to die,” Meg said. She turned to Jed. “I’m with you.”
The Marine nodded and Meg hurried back to her bunk and put her boots on. The longer they stood around and talked, the more time she would have to change her mind. Rays of light shot through the holes in the boarded-up windows as Meg laced up her boots. The trio turned to watch the sunlight.
“There isn’t a cloud in the sky,” Jed said.
“Now’s our chance,” Meg said. “Let’s go.”
Beckham woke up in a hospital bed. He turned on his side to see he was alone. The abrupt move sent a shockwave of pain through his entire body. Everything hurt.
He wondered how long he’d slept. He vaguely recalled the chopper ride, but he had no recollection of landing or how he had made it to the medical facility.
Palming the bed, he scooted back toward the headboard. Deep shards of pain attacked his rib cage, like someone was holding a hot knife there. He felt the injury, checking for cracked bones. Wincing, he exhaled. The bones were bruised, but not broken. That was good news. He could still fight.
A rap on the door pulled his attention away from his injuries.
“Sir,” came a gentle voice. The door creaked opened and a nurse stepped into the room. His shoulders sagged in disappointment that it wasn’t Kate.
“I’m Tina. Dr. Holder will be in shortly.” She stopped at
his bedside, checking his vitals. “How do you feel?”
“Like I got my ass kicked.”
The nurse smiled but kept her focus on the biomonitor. “I’m told you are a lucky man.”
He nodded and glanced around her at the open doorway. “What time is it?”
“Just after two p.m. You’ve slept all day.”
Beckham fought to remember how he’d gotten here. He wondered where Horn and Kate were. And Riley. Where was the kid?
The nurse handed him a cup of water and a pill. “Take this. It will help with the pain.”
“Where’s Riley?”
“Down the hall,” the nurse replied. “You can see him soon. But you need to rest.”
“I’m fine,” he said, throwing back his head and swallowing the small dose. When he opened his eyes, he saw a thin shape standing in the doorway behind Tina.
“Reed?” The voice was soft, sweet. His heart kicked when he saw it was Kate.
“Hey,” he said, struggling to sit up.
“Sir, I’m serious. Don’t push it,” Tina said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Beckham looked her in the eye. “I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, but you need to rest,” Tina said sternly. She stepped aside to make way for Kate. With a firm glare, Tina said, “Please try to make this short.”
Beckham motioned Kate closer to his bed as the nurse left the room. He caught the woman’s eye through the slightly ajar door. So much for privacy, he thought.
“Oh my God,” Kate said. She bent over his bed and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Watch the ribs,” Beckham choked.
“Sorry, sorry!” She covered her mouth with a hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Beckham chuckled and ignored the pain. “It’s okay.”
“When I heard you were injured, I thought…”
He reached for her but stopped just short of taking her hand. “It’s going to take a lot to put me out of business.”
Kate whimpered and laughed at the same time. “So now that you’re back, you’re going to stick around for a while, right?”
Beckham looked down at his body, unsure if he would be able to fulfill his promise to Jensen. Operation Liberty was happening with or without him, and he couldn’t bear the thought of Horn and the other men fighting on their own.
“I heal quickly,” he said.
“Have you seen yourself?”
Beckham fidgeted, winced, and then relaxed. “I’m guessing I look like shit.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Trust me, I’ve looked worse than this—”
“There’s something I need to tell you, Reed,” Kate said suddenly.
Beckham scooted over to make room for her and patted the bed. After throwing a glance over her shoulder, Kate carefully sat next to him.
“I have intel for you, too,” Beckham said. “Something I saw at Bragg.”
Kate shied away. “You go first.”
“You were right, Kate. The Variants are evolving. We encountered a group right before we reached the LZ. One of them seemed to be in command. Like he was giving orders.” Beckham knew his words sounded insane, but they didn’t seem to disturb Kate.
Her voice was brittle when she replied. “This is just the beginning. The epigenetic changes are irreversible, but they’re not stable. The Variants are evolving at a rapid rate, and I don’t think they’re going to stop.”
Beckham reached for his right leg, a charley horse attacking his calf. “Shit,” he mumbled. His ribs burned from the sudden movement.
“What’s wrong?”
Gritting his teeth, he said, “Cramp. Ribs.”
She was searching him, concern radiating from her blue eyes. “And you think you can fight like this?”
Beckham nodded. “I told you, I’ve had worse.” He glanced up, struggling to keep his swollen right eye open. “What did you want to tell me?”
Kate looked away. “It was nothing. Just glad you’re back is all.”
Meg felt the nagging tug of regret. They weren’t even two blocks from the fire station, and she had already started questioning her decision to leave the safe house.
She ran behind Jed and Rex, keeping low and close to the storefronts. The only motion was from swirling trash and their reflections in the glass windows that hadn’t shattered.
To say she felt alone was an understatement. The despair ate at her with every step. New York City. The place where she’d grown up and lived her entire life had transformed into a ghost town. Every street corner, every sidewalk was littered with corpses. The blood that hadn’t washed down the storm drains had dried on the street. Bodies baked under the bright afternoon sun, their decomposing flesh filling the city with an invisible cloud of rot. She was used to seeing her fair share of blood. It had never bothered her, until now.
Taking a knee behind a yellow cab, she studied the scene. The dark red splatters had hardened around fallen bodies, like some sort of toxic red jungle, with veins webbing out across the concrete. A few feet away, a middle-aged man lay face down in a puddle of dried crimson. The breeze chipped away at the edges of the stain.
The victims had all bled out shortly after the jets swooped over the city. Jed had said the military created a weapon to destroy the Hemorrhage Virus, that it was their last hope. The result was thousands, millions of bodies, some piled on top of one another where they’d succumbed to whatever biological weapon the Air Force dropped.
If it weren’t for the CBR suits they’d taken from a FEMA shelter weeks before, they would have had to endure the putrid smell of decay. Now all she could smell was rubber.
They advanced in single file down the sidewalk, with Jed taking point. All three of them carried axes from the fire station. The sharp edge did little to relieve the spike of anxiety growing inside of Meg. Her gut ached with nausea.
Whispering breezes and the rap of their boots followed them through the streets. Every few steps Jed would stop and listen for the creatures. He glanced up at the buildings towering above, scanning the rooftops.
Meg stopped in front of Mickey’s Irish pub, where the fire crew had spent many nights pounding shots of whiskey and bottle after bottle of beer. A woman in a space suit glared back at her in the window, a woman she hardly recognized. She closed her eyes and pictured the night she’d polished off a bottle of Hennessy with her husband and Eric and his wife. It was hard to believe the four of them would never share another drink.
“Come on,” Jed said.
Meg pressed a hand to the glass, bowed her head, and then trekked after the others. Walking in the open, exposed to the buildings around them, was terrifying. Meg trembled in her suit. She had to get control. The only way out of the city was forward. She had to let go of the ghosts in her past and leave them behind.
Ahead, Jed stopped next to a police car. He climbed inside the vehicle and searched for weapons, but came back empty-handed. Using two fingers, he motioned Meg and Rex to continue. They rounded the next street just as the sun vanished behind the clouds. Shadows swallowed them before they could react. They darted behind a FEMA truck and waited for the sun to reemerge.
The sound started off as a faint creaking. Then came the popping of joints and dragging of nails. Like a gruesome combination of a crab and spider skittering across concrete. All three of them heard it. And not even the cloud cover could hide the look of pure terror behind Rex’s visor.
Slowly, Meg peeked around the side of the truck and examined the rooftops. A blur of motion shot across the top of a four-story building at the end of the street.
“What do you see?” Rex whispered.
Meg looked past the man and found Jed’s worried gaze. “How much farther to those Humvees?”
“Two blocks,” he said, then paused. “I think.”
Risking another glance, Meg scanned the roofs. This time she saw one of the creatures. The half-naked man perched on a ledge, sniffing the air. Even from this distance, she could see the
blue veins crisscrossing its pale flesh. Another three shapes climbed onto the smooth stone edge and scampered across.
Meg ducked behind the truck. She sat there paralyzed by fear, listening to the snuffling monsters. “We have to make a run for it,” she said.
Jed nodded, but Rex reached out and grabbed Meg’s arm. “No. We can’t. We have to stay here.”
For the first time in the years she’d worked with Rex, Meg felt an overwhelming anger boiling inside of her. She wondered if she should have left him back in the fire station.
“Please,” Rex begged.
The only way out of the city was past the monsters in one of the Humvees. Meg didn’t want to hide anymore. The walk through the death-infested streets had taken another bite of her soul; if they stayed much longer, there wouldn’t be anything left. She was sick of waiting to die and was prepared to take her chances.
The cloud cover broke and sunlight flooded the streets.
“When those things move, we move,” Meg said firmly.
Rex slowly nodded, and Jed flashed a thumbs-up. Meg craned her neck around the side of the truck. The rooftop was empty now. She caught a glimpse of one of the creatures as it ran for cover from the bright sunlight.
“Okay. Now’s our chance,” Meg said. Keeping low, she led the men around the side of the truck, and they took off running through the maze of abandoned cars. Rex panted behind her, but Meg didn’t slow down. She ran like a woman possessed, rounding the corner to the next street on the tips of her toes.
The skyline revealed another cluster of clouds moving over the city, hidden from view earlier. She slowed to a trot and watched the armada of dense gray crossing over the buildings. The shadows filled the road like a flash flood.
“Run,” Meg said. “Run!”
Raw fear took over as she pushed on. She wedged past abandoned vehicles, ricocheting off open doors and bumpers. She ran harder still when the wall of gray washed over her. Ahead, two cars blocked the route. Instead of going around, she jumped on a hood and then leapt for the concrete below.
Extinction Edge (The Extinction Cycle Book 2) Page 12