Emergence (Book 4): Eradication

by Sawyer, JT

  The man was dressed in black pleated slacks and a blue button-up shirt that clung to his muscular frame. He moved silently on his bare feet along the damp cobblestone flooring until he was only a few feet away from Carl. His skin was nearly translucent and perfectly smooth, showing the movement of tiny ribbons sliding beneath the epidermis, as if his tissue was infused with thousands of tentacles. The man looked at Carl, his piercing jet-black eyes studying every ridge and furrow along the man’s weathered face as something ropelike inside his mouth seemed to quiver against the muscles of his right cheek. Carl noticed that the man never blinked, making his gaze even more unnerving.

  The man stood frozen in place, slowly letting his eyes fall upon each person before drifting over to the columns of glass vials on the table. Its eyes widened, its chest heaving at the sight.

  A very faint shrill sound crept out from his lips as he opened his mouth. “You have done well—this is more than I expected to have at this stage.” He raised both hands up as he let out a rigid smile. “Enough to carry us through the requisite six months, as I was hoping for.”

  “Six months,” whispered Jim, who had slunk back towards the back of the table.

  Roland looked over at Rose, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Yes, that will be quite sufficient for what I need.”

  Carl went to step forward, his arm coming up between the man’s hands. Roland rushed in, sliding his spindly fingers up around Carl’s head and snapping forcefully. Rose screamed and recoiled into a chair as Carl collapsed in a heap on the ground. Roland moved with blinding speed towards Evie, grabbing her by the throat and raising her three feet off the ground. The woman clutched at his hands as her trachea was crushed. Roland flung her body against the opposite wall like it was a wet towel, then he walked slowly towards Jim, who was holding a small scalpel before him, his trembling hand barely able to maintain its grip.

  “You said you would let us go if we helped—our families too.”

  Roland tilted his head, his hand motioning back to the hungry drones in the hallway as they pressed their faces into the room. “They were fed to my brood days ago, just as you shall be.” He swiftly slipped past Jim’s extended hand and drove both hands along the underside of his jawline, twisting his head sharply to the right and then continuing with such force that it sheared off from the neckline, spraying the wall behind it with an amalgam of arterial blood, spinal fluid, and slivers of white tendon. Roland looked at the decapitated head as if inspecting a vase, then flung it back towards the ravenous mob at the door, who greedily clawed at the tender offering.

  Roland walked past the table, his bloody fingers trailing along the sides of the glass vials until he came to the overturned chair that Rose was cowering behind. She was clutching the wooden frame as if hiding behind bars that offered protection, her shallow breathing accompanied by the tiniest whimper as she sobbed.

  Roland reached out his hand, brushing her auburn hair aside. “No need to fear anything, my child. Your fate will be different—and I promise that you will not suffer as they did.”

  Chapter 24

  Dorr was sitting at the head of the conference table in the tac-ops center’s situation room, surrounded by a dozen of his top-tier advisors from the military along with Hemmings and two of her staff. The tension in the air was apparent as each individual observed the satellite images of the remaining alphas’ locations around the U.S. in the four hours following the assault on the nuclear facilities.

  “There doesn’t appear to be any significant movement by the enemy except here,” said General Vaccaro, who was in charge of the air force squadron at MacDill. He stood up, using a laser pointer to highlight a region in southeast Florida. “This mass of drones is in the thousands—possibly over fifteen thousand strong—and their present route of travel indicates they are moving towards the northeast.”

  There was a heavy silence that hung over the room as people shifted uncomfortably in their seats while sneaking sideways glances at one another. Dorr rested his elbows on the table and glanced over at Hemmings, recalling the earlier conversation they had about relocating her to the small fleet in the Gulf of Mexico. He looked at the red mass of drones on the wall monitor like it was a cancerous growth consuming everything in its path. Dorr had faced overwhelming enemy armies before in his long military career but nothing on this scale. He wondered how long the remaining military at MacDill would be able to hold out. And what if this is just the first wave? His breathing became shallow at the latter thought. God, we need to focus all of our efforts on that damn bioagent but there just isn’t the time.

  “The estimates I just received indicate that the force will arrive here in two days at their present rate.”

  “And we can only assume that their ranks will swell, picking up others from nearby cities as they head this way,” said Hemmings.

  “Then we wait until they are ninety miles out and larger in number and send in our F-15s,” said Dorr as he looked at Vaccaro.

  “That will take out a substantial amount of them, but even having a thousand drones arriving at our doors is going to be a force to reckon with,” said Vaccaro.

  “We’ll have to set up chokepoints to divert the remainder of the drones,” said Colonel James Gould, who was in charge of the remaining special operations contingent. “Sniper teams under Sergeant Major Martinez will set up a perimeter and drop any surviving alphas, then booby-trap the routes along the southern towns near the base, putting a buffer of twenty miles between us and them.”

  “What about any offshore firepower?” said Hemmings. “Do we have any destroyers or subs that could shell the regions inland?”

  “No, Madam President,” said Dorr, dismayed that they even had to address pounding American soil with artillery. “The small fleet in the Gulf is limited to a handful of Coast Guard vessels.”

  “And how much of the bioagent can Doctor Munroe create in forty-eight hours?” said Hemmings. “That would solve a lot of our problems.”

  “She and the staff on the Lachesis will be working around the clock once Munroe arrives there, and they have the physical specimens for the formula that she possesses. They will have enough of the bioagent made within two days to quell this attack, but the real issue is right here,” said Dorr, pointing to a satellite image along the southwestern edge of Florida. “There is a major tropical storm moving into the region that will impact the mainland by tomorrow night, making aerial dispersal ineffective.”

  Hemmings brushed a strand of hair off her forehead, her eyes widening. “What the hell are the chances of that?” She leaned back in her seat. “It seems like our best option is for an air assault on the drones followed up by Colonel Gould’s recommendations.”

  Dorr nodded in agreement. “Yes, ma’am.” He knew he was ultimately in charge of the entire operation, but he had never felt so hamstrung with personnel and resources in his entire career. He hoped the remaining elite warriors at MacDill and those soon-to-be returning units would be enough to stem the tsunami of paras making its way towards them.

  Chapter 25

  Jared swung the thirty-foot Chaparral speedboat into the center of the current, heading north up the Colorado River. It was good to be out of harm’s way from the creatures on land, but now Kelly felt like she was at the mercy of the four men beside her. Jared was clean-cut and, other than his AR, his tactical gear showed little sign of wear. It was clear by the men’s body language and knowing glances at one another that they were either former law-enforcement or military. Their cohesiveness and non-verbal expressions reminded Kelly of her husband’s SEAL team when they were together at rare social functions outside of Coronado. Oftentimes, such gatherings were a painful reminder that Tom had a separate family apart from her and Cassie, though she knew the other wives felt the same, which enabled them to all form their own bond separate from the men they loved.

  As they hit a ripple in the current, she held her daughter close, staring back at Erica, who was busy regaling a beefy blond man with
her tales of survival from the past two weeks while twirling one finger through her dark hair. The woman gave Kelly a brief smirk when the two of them locked eyes for a second. I wonder if she’s ever cared about anyone but herself?

  Jared slowed the boat slightly as they navigated through a thick swath of brown cattails that seemed to hug the shoreline for miles, choking the river into a ten-foot-wide channel just large enough for the vessel. The engine chugged and hissed as the hull slithered through the mucky current, finally emerging into a section of the Colorado River at it widest point. To the west were jagged cliffs of sandstone that seemed to melt into the current, which was a stark contrast to the eastern shores composed of gently sloping sandy beaches dotted with the occasional palm tree. They continued for another twelve miles, passing the once-booming spring break city of Lake Havasu. Kelly noticed the throngs of creatures along the marina a half-mile away. They seemed unaffected by the passing of the boat, busy moving in a formation to the north. She remembered going to Lake Havasu ten years ago for a nursing conference, recalling that the population was around sixty thousand people or more. God, how many of those things are there now?

  “Aren’t you worried about them seeing us or the direction we’re heading?” she said.

  Jared bit his lower lip. “Nah, they won’t bother us. Not where we’re located.”

  How can that be? Those things are always hungry and zeroing in on anyone in their sights. She thought maybe their vision didn’t extend out to their location, but she knew they must hear the roar of the boat’s engines echoing off the nearby cliffs.

  “How much farther?” Kelly said, squinting to make out some semblance of a shoreline community in the distance. Though they had only traveled around a dozen miles on the river, it felt like they had been in the boat for hours, and her empty stomach was beginning to feel each wave.

  “Oh, just a little bit more,” said Jared, not taking his eyes off the route ahead. “Once we get you checked out at the infirmary, we’ll show you to your quarters, where you can clean up and then get something to eat.”

  “What’s there to check out? We’re not infected.”

  “SOP,” he said, glancing over at her. “Standard operating procedure—the boss man likes to play it safe even though the early days of the viral contagion are over.”

  She gave him a surprised look. “Your ‘boss’—what’s your role then?”

  “Hired gun,” he said with a smile as he patted his right pec. “Used to be a cop in Lake Havasu before the virus hit.” He waved his hand back at the other men. “When we finally made it to Raven’s Keep, there were only the four of us left. The crags killed the rest of our team in a skirmish north of here—a chokepoint along the highway.” He shook his head. “Never thought of those things as smart and organized until then.”

  “Cop, a long time?”

  “Few years. Did a four-year stint in the Marines before that—mostly as an excuse to get the hell out of Lake Havasu. You can guess how well that worked out.”

  “So what happened to the National Guard units? I thought they were called into most of the larger cities?”

  “They were cut to pieces in a few days. Lost a lot of my buddies on the force too.” He lowered his head for a second. “Hard to believe we were all just hanging out at a barbecue last month and now…” His taut face fell into a faint grimace. “Now, those of us who survived are just doing our best to keep chugging along.”

  “We only just heard about Raven’s Keep a few days ago in Joshua Tree, but it sounds like it’s been around since the virus struck.”

  “Seems that way.”

  “What do you mean?” Kelly brushed her bangs out of the way. What’s with this guy—half the time he’s straightforward and the rest he’s all vague with his information. She noticed his white knuckles upon the steering wheel and how he seemed to clutch it tighter every time he spoke about Raven’s Keep. Something’s off with him. He speaks in a confident tone about the place but his body language sure doesn’t reflect what he’s saying.

  He thrust his chin up to the right. “All of your questions are about to be answered.”

  Kelly saw an immense cement spillway that emerged from the mouth of the cliff face beneath a concrete arch dam that was over three hundred feet tall and spanned the gorge on either side. Below it was a boat landing with four men with rifles standing along the piers and a steel sign which indicated it was the Parker Dam. In the square crannies above the platform were upwards of fifty ravens circling the spillway. Raven’s Keep—but why call it that instead of the established name of the facility? Other than the men on the landing, there were no obvious signs that this place was even functional, let alone occupied by survivors.

  Jared slowed the boat and coasted to the landing, where a pudgy man with a sombrero leaned over to grab the rope dangling on the stern. He tied it off then secured the bow while Jared helped the new arrivals off. The three other men on the landing were in their forties and looked like they were locals, clad in shorts and t-shirts. One of them was wearing tattered flip-flops and greeted Jared with a smile like he had just returned from a tourist ride. A wrought-iron door opened, grating on its rusty hinges, and a bald man with wire-rimmed glasses stepped up to Erica. “My name is Doctor Evans.” He acted like he was going to shake her hand but then reached out and jabbed Erica’s middle finger with a small metal pin. She curled her lip and snarled at him, forming her fingers into a fist. “What the fuck—is this how you greet people?” She raised her fist, rushing at him, but was met by Jared, who stepped between the two of them, grabbing Erica’s forearm.

  “You’ll have to forgive our resident doctor—he missed out on the bedside manner part of things back in med school.” Jared held Erica’s hand, glancing down at her red-tipped finger. “Everyone gets their blood checked before going inside, so if you’ll indulge the doc here, I’d appreciate it.”

  Jared stepped aside, motioning for the man to continue. Erica took a step back, her other hand hovering near her pistol for a moment. She narrowed her eyes and then blew a strand of hair off her nose, slowly unfurling her fist and thrusting it out towards the man. He dabbed Erica’s finger then slid it across a glass slide and covered it with a strip of clear surgical tape.

  “And if we refuse?” said Kelly to Jared.

  “Then you get to camp out here on the landing. No one goes inside until their blood has been checked—house rules.”

  “For what? We’re not infected—you can see that,” she said, thinking of her work as a nurse at the VA in San Diego. She glanced at the slide, knowing that they would need to draw a vial of blood to perform an actual hematology test. She thought of mentioning that but didn’t feel comfortable revealing her medical background yet.

  “We have a simple test in our infirmary that the doc runs to see what your blood type is, along with other factors,” said Evans, pushing his spectacles up on his greasy nose. “It helps determine if you can be a plasma donor during a medical emergency for another resident here and a host of other things that it would take me an hour to explain while we cook here in the sun.”

  Kelly knelt down beside Cassie, whose eyes had grown wider. She looked at her daughter then out at the placid waters of the Colorado, suddenly feeling the walls of the gorge around them constricting. Being a parent in this shattered world didn’t allow her the luxury of rebelling against the authority at hand. She would need these people and what was behind these walls to survive for now, until she could figure out a better plan. Kelly rubbed her daughter’s shoulder. “Everything’s going to be OK. There’s food and water inside this place. We just need to have their doctor check us and then we can go in. I’ll go first, alright.” She stood up, reluctantly moving forward and raising her own hand out to the doctor, feeling like she was extending her limb far beyond the limitations of her being.

  Chapter 26

  The six-hour flight from Creech Air Force Base in Nevada to MacDill went by quickly for Selene as she fell into a deep sleep. It
was the first time in a week that she had slept for so long. Other than a brief meeting with General Dorr to discuss the challenges of using the bioagent during the impending tropical storm, her time at MacDill lasted less than an hour before she was flown out to the Lachesis. After she and Tso disembarked the helicopter with their gear, she saw a stocky African-American man making his way towards them, his lips forming into a smile with each step. He closed the last few feet with a jog forward, shooting out his hand towards hers.

  “My God, we meet at last, Doctor Munroe.”

  She recognized the husky voice from past conversations, finally matching his face with the grainy images on her laptop from their former video conferences. “Jonas.” She shook her head, dropping her bags and embracing him in a hug. “I feel like we’ve known each other a long time already. So good to meet you.” She stepped aside, introducing Tso, then allowed Runa to carry her duffle bag.

  He led them along the salt-stained deck towards the rear hatch and motioned for them to head down the hall to the bridge as he followed up in the rear. After getting a brief tour of the vessel’s upper levels and grabbing sandwiches from the galley, Runa showed them down to the small BSL-4 lab on the lowest level.

  There were already a dozen scientific and medical staff from MacDill bustling around the floor as they prepared the twenty- and fifty-five-gallon canisters to accept the aerosol that would soon be produced under Selene’s guidance. After the staff introduced themselves, she stood with her hand on her chest, staring at the state-of-the-art medical equipment and layout of the different laboratories spread throughout the level. “This is far more impressive than I imagined,” she said.

  “Well, the CIA doesn’t spare any expenses.” He cleared his throat, looking away. “Rather, they didn’t spare any expenses back then.”

  “Very good—then, let’s get to work.” She wasted no time, slipping on a white lab coat and handing the aerosol samples she’d brought from the CDC to the lead staff members to begin mass production while she moved towards the observation window at the end of the hallway, which overlooked a small BSL-4 isolation chamber. She stared at the inert creature lying on its back, taking in the wire leads connected to its cranium.