Strain of Vengeance (Bixby Series Book 3)

by Michelle Bryan

  It seems like it takes forever, but finally we’re in the shadow of the massive building. Although Lewis brings it to a complete stop, the truck vibrates underneath our feet with the sound still emanating from the speakers. Robyn nimbly leaps from the truck cab and launches herself over the side to land in the bed beside us, surveying the devastation we left behind in the field. A smug grin covers her face.

  “Good job,” she yells.

  Luke pulls the cotton from one of his ears, and the rest of us do the same.

  “Robyn and Badger, you two stay with the truck. Take care of anything that moves. The rest of us will go in.”

  I nod in understanding, even though my heart is thrashing against my ribcage so hard it hurts. This was the easy part, getting through the field. We have no idea what awaits us inside. No idea if the frequency even affects the super mind. No idea if there’s an army of hybrids waiting for us to walk straight into their clawed hands. Only one way to find out. We jump down out of the truck bed.

  We duck on instinct as a bevy of bullets ping along the truck, shattering the window where Robyn sat earlier. Lewis howls as he leaps from the truck on the other side and bolts around the back. The bullets strike the speaker in an explosion of sparks.

  Fuck no! They took out the speaker. What the hell? How do they even have weapons? And where are they shooting from? I survey the warehouse, trying to pinpoint the location.

  I’m so focused on searching the warehouse for the shooter, I don’t see what happens next. All I hear is Gordo’s agonized scream echoing in my ears.

  “Badger!”

  I turn back in time to see my friend, a huge chunk of his skull missing and blood streaming down his face. He stares at us as his mouth drops open in a hushed ‘O’ of surprise, like he can’t quite believe what’s happened. Searing pain emanates from my chest like I’d just been stabbed with a hot poker as I watch the life fade from his eyes, and he topples over the side of the truck.

  Luke grabs Gordo around the waist, holding him back as he tries to run to his friend, still screaming his name.

  Robyn overcomes her shock and leaps from the truck before she becomes the next victim. She doesn’t appear to be the target, however. Doc H’s generator bursts into a tiny box of flame as another couple of shots ping off the tailgate. We flatten ourselves against the warehouse wall but with the generator dead, the shooting stops as well. The resulting silence is almost deafening.

  “Gordo, he’s gone,” Luke growls in the kid’s ear, as he keeps struggling against the big man’s grip. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  Gordo stops struggling as his face crumbles. That look breaks my heart.

  Badger is dead.

  The realization hits home. A weight slams into my chest, replacing the poker. I can’t breathe. I start sucking in air as the black spots swim in front of my eyes. Afraid I’m about to pass out, I lean against the wall, trying to quell the ache of the claws scratching at my throat.

  We stand there, the silence pressing in on us. No more shots. No more frequency tone. No more Badger.

  “Pull yourselves together,” Barclay’s whisper breaks the stunned silence. “I know it’s hard losing a comrade, but we need to finish this. Now unless those fuckers have learned to use weapons, we have human enemies inside as well. Which means they’re beyond saving.”

  Dom points his chin toward Barclay. “What he said. I recommend we don’t chance even going inside. We blow this whole place up now, while we have the opportunity.”

  “No!” My knife is in my hand and pointed at Dom’s jugular, my grief making me crazy. “We won’t abandon our people. We save Amy.”

  “Put that away.” Barclay calmly pushes down my knife. “I agree with you. We go in. We need the super mind’s death to be up close and personal. I want to drop a grenade right into its damn pod. We can’t take a chance of it living through blowing the warehouse. We need to be sure of its demise. Plus, there’s no way we could plant the explosives with whoever that is taking potshots at us. We need to take out the shooter.”

  “Just say his name,” Dom utters in disgust as he stares at me. “There’s only one human we know of in league with these things. The sooner we kill Sam McKinley, the better.”

  I growl in the back of my throat and raise my knife again, but I don’t say anything to the douche-bag. My mouth refuses to voice the words in my head. That Sam may be responsible for Badger’s death. If it’s true, then that’s something I’ll never be able to forgive him for. Or myself.

  Chapter Twenty

  Luke stands, listening at one of the many side doors we’ve chosen to mount our assault. After what feels like an hour, but must be only minutes, he raises three fingers above his head. We’re going in on three.

  Mike moves to the other side of the door to cover Luke. Three fingers become two.

  Is Sam waiting in there with a gun? Will he shoot at us, too?

  Two fingers become one.

  Can I do it? Will I be able to take him down if he’s a threat?

  The last finger falls, and he closes his fist. We move.

  We’re met with no resistance, only a wall of impenetrable darkness. The little light from outside highlights a wall of barrels to our left, and we rush to take cover behind those before we’re discovered.

  We wait, adjusting to the dark. Nothing seems to be moving, but as my eyes focus on the shadows, I gasp in disbelief. The space is breathtaking in its vastness. The lighting is so dim that I can’t see either of the walls that border us on the sides. What I can see, however, is the rows upon rows of pods littering the warehouse floor. Just as Sam said. Hundreds of them. How do we tell the difference? How do we know which ones are mutating hybrids and which ones are the humans being used for food? There’s no way to distinguish.

  Beyond the empty stretch of space and darkness, I can see there’s only half a second floor. A series of scaffolding and metal stairs zigzags to it and all the way up to the ceiling. The platform is shrouded in complete darkness, but right away I know that’s where our shooter is. Waiting to take us out too, no doubt.

  “Holy shit, guys,” Mike’s whisper cuts through the gloom. “Look closer at the pods. Right there, smack dab in the middle.”

  I look to where he points. I see it. A large pod, much larger than the rest, made different by the fact that it is torn wide open. Like something big has already emerged from it.

  “Fuck. It’s already hatched.” Dom sounds terrified. For once, I don’t blame him. We all know the “it” he’s referring to. The super mind is live, and somewhere in this building with us.

  “Okay, people. Change of plans. Looks like we’re going to need to track down the big bad before we can destroy it.” Luke whispers.

  A bit easier said than done.

  “We still plant the C4 while we look,” Barclay interjects. “We need to take this place down after we’re done. We just need to be more vigilant.”

  “Split up into our assigned groups,” Luke orders. “See those steel girders running through both sides of this place? Those are weight bearing joists. We place the C4 along those, and we meet back here. If you run into the shooter, take him out.” He doesn’t look my way. “If you meet the big bad, call for back up, and keep your eyes peeled for any civilians.”

  Barclay, his two guys, plus Lewis and Dom melt into the shadows left of the cavernous room, and we head to the right. The room is spooky as shit. I keep thinking I see movement in the shadows, and my head swivels on my shoulders. Even though its cold in here, sweat trickles down my forehead, stinging my eyes. I wipe it away with my elbow, not daring to take my hands off my gun.

  We stumble across the first girder. Mike pulls his rucksack from his back and starts extracting the compact blocks of C4. Gordo stays with him for cover, while the rest of us move on. At the next girder, we leave Robyn and Polly behind while Luke and I move on to the third. Running in the cover of the shadows, we make our way to our target.

  Luke bends down as soon as we h
it it, digging the C4 out of his pack. He places them in position and is in the process of inserting the blasting caps when bullets start ricocheting off the girder.

  “Take cover,” Luke shouts as we dive back into the shadows. I roll behind a counter lining the wall as Luke rounds it from the other side.

  “Where’s the shooter?” I ask. Luke takes a quick peek. Bullets ping along the metal wall above our heads. He ducks back down.

  “Is it Sam?” I ask, fear making my voice shake.

  “No. It’s a woman. She’s just fucking standing at the bottom of the scaffolding over there.”

  A woman? What the hell? I peek out. Luke’s right. There is a woman there in a dress, her long hair flowing down her back. Recognition sets in.

  “It’s Melissa Higgins,” I whisper to Luke. “From Sam’s old crew. The ones that disappeared from the farm.” Now, we know where they disappeared to.

  Footsteps announce her approach.

  “She’s coming closer.” My eyes are wide with disbelief.

  “Melissa,” I yell out. “Stop shooting. It’s us. Bix and Luke.”

  My yell just incites a whole new round that chips away at the counter top above our heads. She’s doesn’t seem to give a fuck who it is.

  Luke shoots me a look of sorrow before he pops up from behind the counter and fires off two shots. She doesn’t retaliate. Luke always was a good shot.

  We listen for a moment, waiting to hear any more footsteps. More gunshots echo about the building, but not at us. Some of the others are running into their own problems, no doubt. Luke grabs at the radio on his hip.

  “Check in,” he barks.

  “Here,” Barclay’s voice crackles from the radio, followed quickly by the others. They’re all okay.

  “Craziest thing ever,” Gordo responds back. “I think I recognized the guy shooting at us, too. He was at the farm when we found Sam. He just walked right at us, shooting. His face was blank like he didn’t even know where he was. Didn’t even try to protect himself.”

  “Doesn’t make any sense,” Luke whispers in the radio. “Why would they just walk right into our hands? Unless…”

  He bolts upright, me right behind him.

  “Heads up!” he yells into the radio seconds before the hybrid cuts through the air toward us. I catch its eyes on the way down seconds before it swipes its huge, clawed hand towards Luke as he tries to raise his gun. The hand connects with the gun, sending it and Luke careening in the darkness. I hear the sickening thud as he hits the wall.

  Fuck!

  I raise my gun and fire. The thing is close enough for me to see the rounds splinter the boney chest, but it doesn’t slow it down.

  You gotta shoot the head.

  The voice in my brain tries to give me direction, but it’s hard to hear it over my screaming.

  I aim for the head, but the thing is too damn close. It swipes at me, the claws so near to my neck I feel the breeze as they slash by. It’s second claw swings at me, and I yank up my gun to block against the assault. It yanks the gun from my grip, throwing it to the side like it’s a useless toy. Mimicking a schoolyard bully, it grabs me by the front of my jacket and lifts me up to its face, my toes dangling on the ground. Something rotten stings my nostrils as I suck in what’s about to be my last breath.

  I’m going to die!

  That voice is clear as a fucking bell.

  I stop resisting, frozen in place by the display of sharp canines as it opens its mouth. I want to scream but try desperately to keep my focus.

  Amy.

  Her name pops into my head and with it comes clarity. She’s depending on me. I can quit fighting and be dead in seconds, or I can keep fighting until the end.

  I let go of the thick wrist holding me hostage and reach for the knife on my hip. Spittle flies from its mouth, covering my face as it gnashes its teeth aiming to latch on to my neck. I jerk my head out of its reach, plunging the knife into one of the hate-filled gray eyes. I twist it deep.

  The creature wails in pain but doesn’t loosen its grip. Gritting my own teeth, I push harder on the blade, twisting it with all I got.

  Die, you motherfucker!

  It finally let’s go of me, and I drop to the floor as it stumbles and falls.

  I take a moment to catch my breath. My arms shake with the effort of pushing myself up, and my legs refuse to hold me. They wobble a bit as I pick up my gun and force my way to the damn thing, giving it a kick. It doesn’t move. I’m not taking any chances, and I’m sure as hell not about to turn my back on it. I shoot it twice in the head, its cranium exploding into mush.

  The cavernous room echoes with rounds and screams. I know we’re not the only ones under attack, but Luke is my priority. I find him on his hands and knees, trying to stand.

  “You okay?” I whisper as I help him up.

  “The hybrid?” Fear coats his voice.

  “Dead but the others are under attack. We gotta help—”

  “Bixby!”

  The scream holds my heart in a vise-like grip. I whirl, trying to find the source. Amy is being carried up the scaffolding over the shoulder of a black-haired head I remember well. Sam has her. And he’s taking her up there to do what? He won’t harm her. He can’t. He loves her.

  “Amy,” I yell back, her terrified eyes connecting with mine. I choke on my fear like a fist down my throat.

  “Let’s go.” Luke retrieves his gun and heads toward the scaffolding.

  “But the others,” I yell after his back, torn both ways.

  “Can look after themselves. Amy can’t.”

  Decision made, we run toward the stairs and the unknown threat that is Sam.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It’s bigger up here than I expected. And darker. There’s no sign of Amy or Sam. They’ve disappeared into the vast gloom. Shadows jump out at us. Old equipment. Shelving. Furniture. Remnants of a time long past. So many fucking places they can hide.

  I glance across at Luke, silently asking what we should do. My brain is too fried with fear to decide. Before he responds, the shadows give birth to the two we are searching for.

  Sam steps forward, dragging a reluctant Amy. She’s gone unnaturally quiet, but upon seeing us, her eyes open wide and her lips move like she wants to scream but no sound escapes. She’s completely and utterly terrified. We feel the reason for her fear before we see it. The platform we’re standing on jars and shifts as a sinister shadow detaches itself from the darkness.

  Acid churns in my stomach.

  The super mind is big. At least eight feet tall. It’s face, although very humanoid, is still very wrong. Misshapen. Skeletal almost. A broad browbone sticks out over its strangely tiny nose. Its cheekbones protrude out, the skin over it tautly stretched. The mouth is far too wide, home to dozens of razor-like teeth, no doubt, and sporting thin lips. But its eyes are what scare me the most. Strangely beautiful in a way. Thickly lashed. Wide and clear, big orbs of brown. Cold and lifeless as a day-old grounded fish. No emotion. No humanity.

  Its body is shaped like us, but its proportions are wrong. A long torso is covered in what looks like a breastplate of crystalized bone. A shell almost. Strips of bone extend over the shoulders and down its arms, ending in sharp talons on each long finger. Short, powerful legs, are also sheathed in this shell? Bone? My mind can’t comprehend what I’m looking at. It’s almost as if its skeleton grew on the outside of certain parts of its body, protecting the vulnerable bits. It has no sexual organs. None that I can see, anyways. No telling if it’s a he or she. No kicking it in the balls. That option’s off the table.

  It steps closer, and I swallow the extra saliva pooling in my mouth.

  “Ho-ly shit.” Luke’s whisper only adds to my fear.

  “Amy, come here.” I hold out my hand to her. She tries to move, but Sam won’t let her go. He stares at us, not blinking. No sign of recognition.

  “Sam, let her go. She has nothing to do with this.”

  My voice is barely more than
a squeak, but it could have boomed through a foghorn for all the attention Sam pays to it. The creature takes another step, so it’s standing almost directly behind them now. My voice raises to a shrill shriek.

  “Sam, let her go.”

  The thing raises its claws, and both Luke and I raise our rifles. Not sure if it’ll do any good, but there’s no way I’m watching these two die in front of me without shooting that fucker up with every bullet I have.

  But it doesn’t hurt them. Instead, it rests its two massive hands on the top of their heads, like it’s patting a dog.

  “Mine.”

  The voice is low. Guttural. Wrong. It’s meaning, however, is quite clear. It’s not giving those two over without a fight.

  I stare into the dead brown eyes. “Wrong. They are not yours, you motherfucking, overgrown crab.”

  It tilts its head, observing me like it’s trying to understand. Then its mouth moves again, forming words. Communicating with me. “Your. Kind. Full of… hate.”

  Your kind? As in humans?

  “Yeah, I’m feeling more than a little hate for you right now, buddy.” I grip my gun tighter against my shoulder. “That’s to be expected since you assholes swooped in and practically destroyed my kind. Pretty good reason to hate.”

  “Bix,” Luke warns.

  It tilts its head to the other side, its unblinking eyes staring back and forth to me and Luke.

  “My kind… does not know hate. We learn… from you.”

  Seriously? He’s trying to blame this on us? They travelled here from butt-fuck nowhere in the universe to lay one big guilt trip at our feet?

  “Why are you here?” Luke growls. “What does your kind want with us? Why do you want to take over our world?”

  It’s quiet for a moment, its eyes unwavering, trying to understand the question. I stare into the spooky depths. Intelligence radiates out. Intelligence that is cold, ruthless, and not of this world. No matter what DNA it’s stolen from us, it can’t replicate humanity.

  Finally, that distorted voice emerges again.