“Get ready, Mikesell!” Beckham yelled into the comm. They passed a series of doors that led to the living quarters, Presidential Command Center, and all of the other offices.
Beckham kept his foot on the pedal as they hit the minefield of bodies. Skulls and ribcages snapped under the weight of the tires. The shocks jerked up and down as they ran over the fresh corpses. A female Variant missing her legs dragged her torso across the pavement and reached up at the beams of the Humvee. Beckham flinched as the truck sent her spinning into a wall, where she splattered and slumped to the ground.
The meat of the army continued retreating ahead. Those that stayed behind were mowed down by Horn’s unwavering barrage of fire. He was a genius on the heavy gun. Beckham let up on the gas and pulled right up to the front door of the power plant.
“We’re here!” he shouted. “Keep them off us, Big Horn.”
The door to the plant swung open. Mikesell emerged and hurried toward the truck. There was a small group of civilians huddling in the shadows cast by the mechanical equipment behind him.
Mikesell stopped suddenly, staring with wide eyes at the Humvee. Beckham’s eyes flicked to motion in the rear view mirror. A slow moment of confusion passed before Beckham realized Mikesell wasn’t staring at the truck but through it. The monsters were streaming out of the doors they had passed earlier.
“Horn! Behind us!” Beckham shouted.
The spotlight rotated to their rear, and Beckham watched in horror as the army of Variants that had been retreating now turned and broke into a crazed run toward the truck. That left Beckham with only one option. There was no way they could hold off both waves of creatures.
“Everyone out!” he shouted.
“Boss, I can—” Horn began to say.
“Get out of the fucking truck!”
Beckham opened the driver door and waved Mikesell back inside the power plant. He hurried to the backseat and helped Horn pull Sawyer out. When everyone was inside the plant, Horn slammed the door.
They were stranded, trapped underground for the second time since the sewers of New York. And this time, Beckham didn’t think they’d ever see daylight again.
Kate looked through the window cresting the door to Holding Cell 2. I did what you said, Michael, she thought, remembering her mentor’s final words back in Atlanta. I created a weapon to kill every last one of the monsters.
The Variant lying chained to the floor was nearly dead. Rashes and open sores decorated its skin like polka dots. A wall of pink vomit had formed on the concrete where it had thrown up what looked a lot like stomach lining. The creature was nearing the final stages, and in a few minutes it would join the other two Variants that had already died. Plum Island would be monster free.
Ellis nudged Kate softly. “Ever wonder who these things were before the outbreak?” Ellis asked.
“I have tried very hard not to think that way.”
“Me too.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I think we did it, Kate. I’m feeling pretty good. The Variants are dying. All we have to do now is—”
The door to the hallway burst open, and Cooper and Berg rushed inside.
“Doctors,” Berg said, stopping to catch his breath.
Cooper continued down the hall, speaking as he walked. “Dr. Lovato, Dr. Ellis, we just got word from Colonel Wood that Central Command has fallen. General Kennor has been killed.”
“What? How?” Kate spluttered. “Who’s in charge now?”
“Not sure,” Berg said. “Things are chaotic over the net. All we know is that Colonel Wood is en route to the island. He should be here in a few minutes and will be able to provide a full report.”
Kate’s heart skipped a beat. If Wood was in charge now, she wasn’t sure what would happen.
“There’s something else,” Cooper said. “Bravo team just reported in. They’re on their way back to the island with a full supply of chemotherapeutics. Alpha and Charlie, however, are trapped inside Raven Rock Mountain Complex. Their status is unknown at this time.”
The words hit Kate hard. She could taste the stomach acid churning in the pit of her gut. She couldn’t lose Beckham now. Not when they were so close to…
To what?
The world was dying. Command was gone and no one seemed to know who was in charge. There were much bigger problems in the world than losing Beckham, but she couldn’t bear the thought of fighting on without him.
The sound of heavy boots in the other hallway pulled Kate back to reality. Lieutenant Colonel Jensen and Major Smith rounded the corner and strode through the open doors to the holding cell corridor.
Jensen stopped to stare at the Variant and then faced the doctors. “Kate—Dr. Lovato,” he said, correcting himself. “Colonel Wood has requested to see you both when he returns.”
Patient 2 let out an abrupt screech that was so loud Kate clutched her chest. She could feel her heart thumping so hard it felt like it was going to burst from her ribcage and plop into her hand. And not just because of the monster dying on the other side of the glass. The world was crumbling around Plum Island, and Beckham was stuck out there, again, because of the weapon she had designed.
-24-
Beckham ran through a maze of mechanical equipment. The door to the facility rattled behind them as the Variants continued their unyielding assault on the steel. It sounded like a mad miner beating on a wall with a sledgehammer.
“Who knows this place?” Beckham shouted over the noise.
“Ted does,” Mikesell said.
Beckham halted in front of a row of generators and scanned the survivors as Chow, Lombardi, and Horn set up a perimeter. Six faces covered in grime stared back at him. An African American woman wearing a white dress shirt with a US flag pin and black trousers caught Beckham’s attention. Her gray hair was pulled back in a bun, and when she saw him looking at her, she straightened her back. Her brown eyes flared with something Beckham couldn’t place. Was it confidence? Strength? He could tell she was important, perhaps a politician or a high-level bureaucrat, but he didn’t have time to find out right now.
“Which one of you is Ted?” he asked.
A middle-aged man wearing thick, black-rimmed glasses pushed his way to the front of the civilians.
“Me,” the man said. “I know this plant better than anyone.”
“Good,” Beckham said. “Because you’re going to show us a way out.”
Ted pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes before slipping them back on. He glanced at Beckham and then at the steel door the Variants were continuing to hammer. “I…I don’t…”
Beckham snapped his fingers. “Ted, I need you to tell me how to get out of here.”
Ted looked away from the rattling doors and said, “There’s an access tunnel carved into the rock that leads to the reservoir. It’s the only way that doesn’t take us back out to the inner roadway, but it’s also where those things built their nest.”
“Hopefully they’ve all left the lair,” Chow said.
Horn snorted and said, “You’re telling us that’s the only way around them?”
“Yes, that’s the only way,” Ted said.
“Show me,” Beckham said. “Big Horn, I want you on rear guard. Everyone else, on me.”
Ted waved the group deeper into the plant. Beckham shouldered his rifle and played the muzzle over the equipment as they ran.
“Stay close,” Beckham said. “And keep quiet.”
They passed through a room full of generators and into another one packed with pumps, air handling units, and boilers.
“This way,” Ted said. He crossed to a door with a sign that read Danger. Confined Space. Enter By Permit Only. He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and thumbed through them. He picked a key and was reaching toward the lock when Beckham stopped him. The Variants had already flanked them once, and Beckham wanted to be sure there wasn’t anything on the other side of the door.
“Out of the way,” Beckham said. He placed an ear against the met
al and listened. The pounding and shrieks of the Variants at the entrance to the plant made it difficult to hear anything else, but he heard nothing to indicate the monsters were waiting on the other side of the door.
“Unlock it,” Beckham ordered. He raised his M4 and aimed it at the door as Ted inserted the key. The engineer glanced back at the group uncertainly.
Beckham nodded, and Ted opened the door.
“On me,” Beckham said. He went first, arching his rifle over the space. The dimly lit corridor was empty. Nothing but damp rock the color of sand. A network of cables and evenly spaced lights snaked across the ceiling.
“Move,” Beckham said. He hugged the walls, using the orange glow from the lights to guide him through the narrow passage. Water dropped from cracks in the rock and collected in puddles on the ground.
Beckham’s heart rate increased with every step—each one closer to the lair. Memories of the nest he’d pulled Meg from in New York surfaced on his mind. He was moving on pure adrenaline, his actions controlled by experience and his internal processor. There was nothing he could do but count on it to keep him and his people alive.
He stopped at a crooked sign marking the reservoir, which hung from a door coated in rust and grime at the next corner. Standing and staring wasn’t going to get them home any faster. After a few seconds of silence, he motioned Ted forward.
“Big Horn, get up here,” Beckham said. If there were Variants still in the nest, he wanted the M249 on point.
Horn grunted as he made his way through the civilians. “What’s the plan?” he said when he reached Beckham.
“We stay frosty,” Beckham whispered. He faced the others and said, “Whatever’s on the other side of this door isn’t going to be pretty. No matter what you see or hear, you keep quiet, you keep calm, and you follow us. Got it?”
There were several nods and a couple whispers of acknowledgement.
“Open it, Ted.”
This time the engineer hesitated even longer before inserting his key. After sucking in a breath, he twisted it and pulled the door open. The metal scraped over the rocky floor.
Beckham cringed and followed Horn onto a catwalk that looked over a cavern. Greenish-blue water shimmered under the walkway. The calm freshwater lake was deceiving, Beckham knew there was nothing peaceful about this place. He followed Horn to the railing to scope the cave.
“There,” Horn whispered. He pointed to the west where a shelf had been carved into the rock.
Beckham clenched his jaw when he saw it had been transformed into a meat locker. Dozens of human shapes were plastered to the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. He focused on a man in fatigues, his body stretched into a T, crucified against the rock. Red ropes hung from the man’s stomach and piled on the ground beneath his feet. Beckham zoomed in to see it was the man’s guts.
“Jesus,” he whispered.
“Think of any of them are alive?” Horn asked.
“I’d bet on it,” Beckham said. “The Variants prefer fresh meat.”
Beckham searched for the monsters, sweeping his aim from left to right, but he saw nothing besides their human prisoners.
“Looks clear,” Horn said.
After a third sweep, Beckham nodded and turned back to the others. He couldn’t save the poor souls across the cavern, but maybe he could still save those behind him. He waved them onto the catwalk.
Ted grabbed the railing and hurried over to Beckham. “We just take this all the way around to the entrance.”
“Let’s move, Big Horn,” Beckham said.
He put a hand on Horn’s shoulder and followed him across the walkway. No matter how quietly the operators were trained to move, they couldn’t mask the sounds the civilians made. The clanks from their footfalls echoed in the cavern. With each step Beckham expected a Variant to answer with a shriek. They made it about one hundred yards before a dull sound reverberated through the chamber.
“Hold,” Beckham whispered. He paused to listen as a second hollow noise sounded.
“Where’s it coming from?” Horn asked.
Beckham turned and focused on the rock tunnel leading from the power plant. The sound of crashing mechanical equipment coupled with the shattering of glass exploded from the entrance. The Variants had found a way into the plant.
“Run,” Beckham said. “Everyone run, NOW!”
Horn was already moving, his boots pounding the metal. The civilians surged forward, and Beckham focused on the entrance to the reservoir ahead. It was only a few minutes away, but as the shrieks grew louder, he wasn’t sure they had enough time to get there.
The walkway suddenly shook violently, throwing Beckham off balance. He looked over his shoulder to see Variants streaming out of the tunnel and onto the catwalk. One of them tumbled over the railing and plummeted to the water below. There was a splash and the heavy crack of gunshots.
Lombardi had stopped to lay down covering fire. Blasts from his shotgun sent three more of the creatures spinning over the side and into the water, but others quickly took their place. The Variants pushed and clawed their way onto the platform. Within seconds the metal groaned under the weight of two dozen of them.
Mikesell halted and then ran back to join Lombardi. They fired side by side as the monsters advanced. A second soldier from Alpha fell into line behind them.
“Fall back!” Beckham screamed. He stood his ground as Ted raced past him. Chow rushed by, half dragging Sawyer. They staggered down the walkway, Chow’s M4 clanking on the side of the railing.
Lombardi and Mikesell continued to lay down covering fire as they backpedaled. The shots pierced the flesh of the Variants in front, splattering those in the back with blood from the exit wounds. The injured creatures dropped and vanished in the stampede of diseased skin. A few in front skittered up the wall to avoid the shots.
“Take out the climbers!” Beckham shouted as the final civilian passed him and ran after Horn and the others. He caught a glimpse of the well dressed woman he’d noticed in the power plant. There was something about the way she carried herself that made her stand out. Not military, but maybe an important government official. Beckham shouldered his rifle. If he hesitated another blink, they were all as good as dead.
Steady, Reed. Steady.
He stilled his breathing, planted his boots, and fired at the monsters clambering over the walls. The rounds bit into rock and punched through lean muscle. Two of the creatures skidded down, clawing and squawking. They crashed to the catwalk, and the remaining Variants trampled the life from the injured creatures.
Lombardi fired on a second wave that had taken to the walls while Mikesell and his squad-mate worked on the mob rushing toward them. Bullets thinned those out in front, but the tidal wave pouring from the tunnel seemed endless. The catwalk whined and sagged beneath their weight.
“Get out of—” Beckham began to shout. He was cut off by a metallic crack as an entire section of catwalk broke off. The Variants and the three Medical Corps soldiers plummeted into the water with it. The men screamed as they dropped into the lake with the shrieking monsters.
Beckham dropped to his knees at the edge of the walkway and peered over the side into the churning blue-green water.
Two of the men never surfaced, but Mikesell thrashed over to the wall. He dragged his fingernails frantically across the rock, trying to climb up.
Beckham looked for something to throw down to him, but it was already too late. The sergeant let out a shrill scream as the Variants pulled him under. Frothy red bubbles churned the water as the monsters tore him apart.
Beckham closed his eyes for a split second, muttering something that was halfway between a prayer and curse. When he snapped them back open, he saw Lombardi had finally surfaced and was swimming away from the pack of Variants.
“Get to the other side!” Beckham shouted. The crack of gunfire rang out behind him as he rose to his feet. Chow had handed Sawyer off to Horn and was now firing at the Variants spilling from the tunnel directly t
o the walls. They didn’t need a walkway to get to their prey.
“Got to move, man!” Chow yelled.
Beckham raised his rifle and fired as they retreated. Three of the creatures lost their grip and crashed into the water. After clearing several more from the walls, Beckham turned and bolted after Horn and the civilians.
He looked over the side of the railing as he ran. Lombardi was swimming like a madman, his strokes deep and fast, but the Variants were gaining. They used their legs to glide smoothly under the surface.
Lombardi flung a glance over his shoulder in between breaths and then stopped to tread water. He peered up at Beckham, his eyes wide and panicky—the terrified look of a man who hadn’t accepted his fate.
“No!” Beckham shouted as Lombardi vanished under the surface.
Chow tugged on Beckham’s flak jacket. “Nothing we can do for him! Come on!”
Beckham resisted, his eyes still locked on the bubbling surface.
“Now, god dammit!”
Beckham let Chow pull him away from the railing, and they sprinted across the final stretch of walkway. The group was waiting at a pair of doors leading to the inner roadway.
“Where are the others?” Horn asked.
Beckham shook his head. There was no time to hesitate or explain. They had to continue to the roadway regardless of what was waiting for them outside.
“Let’s go!” Beckham said. He shoved his way through the terrified civilians and waited impatiently while Ted fumbled with his keys. The engineer finally pulled the door open, and Horn hurried through first. The crack of his gun sounded as soon as he entered the tunnel.
Beckham could see the Variants to the east. Most of them were still working their way into the West Power Plant. He whirled and looked to the west tunnel leading to the A and B portals that Alpha team had used during insertion. That’s where Beckham had planned to escape, but it was a long hike. They would never outrun the creatures unless he bought them some time.
Beckham pulled his spent mag out and jammed another into his rifle. “Horn, on me! Chow, you go west with the others,” he yelled over Horn’s gunfire. “I’m going for the truck!”
Extinction Age Page 25