V Plague (Book 17): Abaddon

by Patton, Dirk

  “Moving,” I hissed, taking a cautious step.

  Dog stayed tight to my leg and Rachel’s back remained glued to mine. Rifle hard on my shoulder, I silently shuffled my feet. I could still hear the beast breathing and was listening closely for any change in the sound that would indicate it was about to attack. So far so good.

  Half the distance to the intersection, I came to an abrupt stop when the animal snorted. In the darkness ahead, something moved. I couldn’t make out any details other than it was fucking big.

  My eyes flicked up and down the hall, measuring distances. Could we make it to the turn? How far beyond the T was the movement? Did it even matter? I was betting that whatever this thing was, it could move one whole fuck of a lot faster than us.

  With the rifle steady on the point where I’d seen movement, I took a step. Rachel and Dog were right with me, and for the first time I noticed that Dog had stopped growling. This alone was enough to send a chill down my spine. I’ve never seen him back down from anything. Quite the opposite as he was always ready to charge into a fight. But despite his teeth still showing, he had fallen silent.

  A few more steps and my breath caught when there was more movement. This time I caught the impression of a shape, and it was enormous. I wasn’t even going to hazard a guess as to what particular kind of beast I was facing and wasn’t sure I really wanted to know.

  The animal moved again, this time coming to a halt just short of a pool of illumination from one of the emergency lamps. I could make out no details other than a pair of huge, yellow eyes that now caught enough light to glow menacingly in the dark.

  “Stop,” I whispered so Rachel had warning and didn’t bump into my back.

  Maybe I was wrong, but it seemed as if every time we advanced, the creature did as well. But I finally had an advantage. The unblinking eyes gave me an ideal aiming point. Settling the scope’s reticle on a point directly between them, I clicked the fire selector from semi-auto to burst mode, figuring three rounds wouldn’t be overkill.

  The instant the lever clicked into place, the eyes disappeared. My finger was already moving to the trigger and I pulled it anyway. The rifle spat out three fast shots, then I adjusted aim to the side and fired again. Then again.

  There was no answering roar and I couldn’t detect any movement. I didn’t stand a chance in hell of hearing anything after the crash of weapon’s fire in the contained space.

  “Move!” I called to Rachel.

  Hurrying forward, we reached the intersection and I moved far enough into it to allow Rachel to turn the corner. I heard her calling for Dog, but he had stopped a few feet into the hallway, once again growling at the darkness. I shouted his name as I moved to grab him, then a bellow of rage sounded from the beast.

  There was nothing to shoot at, but I still began pulling the trigger, sending as many rounds in the direction of the animal as I could. As I fired, Rachel dashed in and grabbed Dog by the scruff of his neck and began dragging him away. Backpedaling, I followed them, changing magazines and keeping the rifle trained on the intersection.

  Another screaming roar, but this one was different. I could hear pain in the creature’s cry. Oh, fuck. It was wounded, and there’s nothing more dangerous and unpredictable than a wounded animal. Labored breathing sounded and I pushed myself faster as I ran backward down the hallway. I wanted to know if Rachel and Dog were clear, but I wasn’t about to take my attention off the intersection for even an instant.

  I passed several rooms and wished I’d counted how many there were on my way down. At least that would tell me if I was close to the exit.

  “We’re out. RUN!”

  Rachel’s shout was all I needed. Spinning, I sprinted for the registration building. Adrenaline and the virus fueled my legs and I’m not sure I didn’t set a few new speed records covering that final forty yards.

  Dog was facing down the ramp, growling as I rushed through the opening. Whipping around, I shoved him aside as I put my shoulder against a sturdy door and slammed it home. For a fraction of a second, as it was closing, I saw something covered in blood coming at me. The glimpse was too fast to recognize anything other than a massive set of gleaming teeth.

  Leaning into the door and planting my feet, I screamed for Rachel to get outside. The beast would be slamming into the door at any instant, and from what I thought I’d seen it was well above my weight class.

  The seconds ticked past and there was no violent impact. I didn’t relax. Kept my muscles taught as I pushed against the heavy wood with all my strength. More seconds passed without so much as a sound from the other side. I was surprised when Dog slipped in next to me, nose pressed to the narrow crack beneath the door. Looking around I could see that Rachel was gone but apparently, he hadn’t listened to her.

  Dog sniffed and snorted twice but didn’t growl. He kept his nose down there and a few seconds later there was an answering snort that carried the deep sound of incredible strength with it. The beast knew we were just on the other side of the door. Why wasn’t it trying to force its way through?

  I had no way to even guess what the answer to that was and wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. No matter how strong I was, I didn’t have any illusions about being able to withstand an assault from a creature that could do what had been done to Smyth and his men.

  The scrape of furniture from behind sent my heart into overdrive. Without lessening pressure on the door, I looked over my shoulder to see Rachel dragging a heavy cocktail table across the floor. The fact that she hadn’t listened and gotten out of the building irritated me, but now wasn’t the time to start an argument.

  She was puffing from exertion by the time she reached me. The long top of the table was made from a solid slab of stone and must have weighed several hundred pounds. It had probably been mined from below where the guest rooms were located.

  I didn’t care about that. What did matter was I could wedge it beneath the door handle and as long as the jamb didn’t fail, the beast wouldn’t be able to batter its way free of the tunnels.

  “Flip it over onto its top,” I said.

  Rachel grabbed an edge and lifted, but it barely budged. She’d been able to drag it from an end but didn’t have the strength to tip it over. I hesitated for a few seconds, watching her struggle, then decided to take a risk.

  Moving a step away from the door, I grabbed the table and lifted it off the floor. Spinning it over, I jammed it into place and stepped back. Reaching out, I tried pushing and wiggling, but it was firmly stuck.

  Taking a deep breath, I looked around at Rachel. Thought about chewing her out for not getting to safety when she had the chance but settled for grabbing her hand and hurrying out the door. Dog caught up almost instantly, sprinting ahead when he saw Mavis waiting by the truck.

  50

  A gust of wind hit me in the face as Rachel and I hurried across the caravan park to the truck. I knew before I looked that the storm was almost upon us. The dust being driven by upper level winds was already overhead, filtering the sunlight and giving everything an otherworldly appearance. The main body of dense sand that was pushed along at ground level was a mile away, at the most. Releasing Rachel’s hand, I sprinted forward, shouting for everyone to get in the truck.

  Across a broad open space was a large metal building with a tall, retractable door. I guessed it was for when a big vehicle needed repairs. The door was up, the rapidly dimming daylight failing to penetrate the darkness inside. But the fact that it was wide open encouraged me that there wasn’t anything lurking within.

  Running around the front of the truck, I leapt up into the cab and hit the starter for the engine. Rachel was right behind me, piling in behind Dog and Mavis. Ramming it into gear, I steered for the shelter of the building and roared through the opening a few seconds later.

  Tires squealed in protest as I jammed on the brakes and slid to a stop on the smooth concrete. Headlights on, I quickly scanned the interior.

  Benches loaded wi
th greasy, well-used tools. Several machines for metal working. A set of shelves with new vehicle parts sorted by type. Seeing nothing that posed a threat, I shut the truck off and jumped down.

  Wind was gusting stronger, grit peppering me as I searched for a way to lower the door. Eyes squinted, I spotted the emergency release line dangling from the automatic opener’s track. It was high in the air and I climbed into the bed of the truck. But even with stronger muscles, I was unable to leap high enough to grab onto the handle.

  “Lift me up!” Mavis shouted, scrambling up.

  I looked at her and realized she should be able to reach it. Grabbing her around the waist, I hoisted her until her small feet were on my shoulders. Holding her ankles for support, I couldn’t breathe as she carefully stood up to her full height, then reached for the rope.

  The wind was really starting to howl, blowing through the opening. The handle danced away from her grasping fingers and she uttered a few very unladylike words that I wasn’t inclined to call her on at the moment.

  “Move forward,” she called.

  I shuffled a step, moving my hands up to grip her legs just above the knee. If she lost her balance, at least I’d be able to keep her from crashing down on her head. But before she could capture the release, the storm arrived.

  In an instant, the small amount of light we’d had was gone as day turned to night. The building shook and moaned under the assault of the wind-driven sand and I was nearly knocked aside by a blast that found its way through the opening. From all around came an eerie sound as if the entire exterior of the structure were being sandblasted at once. Well, it was.

  “I can’t see!” Mavis called.

  I swayed in the wind, faintly hearing the cries of Lucas’s children as the full fury of the storm roared into the building. A moment before I was going to bring Mavis down to safety, strong arms wrapped around my chest from behind, bracing me. Then someone threw themselves against the front of my body, wrapping me up as well. Stabilized, I made sure I had a solid grip on Mavis and screwed my eyes shut against the onslaught of sand.

  “Got it!” she screamed several long seconds later.

  I shouted for the person in front of me to let go as I lifted Mavis off my shoulders to slip down the front of my body. Fortunately, she knew enough to let me control her descent and I didn’t end up dropping her.

  Shaking free off the person holding me from behind, I blindly felt my way to the back of the truck and jumped down. Facing directly into the howling storm, I leaned forward and struggled my way to the opening. Fumbling about, I grabbed tight when my fingers touched a rope. Leaning back, I pulled hard.

  I had no idea if the door was moving or not. I couldn’t see and there was no way in hell I’d be able to hear its motion, so I just kept pulling in hopes my efforts would pay off.

  It wasn’t until the pitch of the storm raging through the opening began to change that I knew I was actually accomplishing something. But as the large door came down, it gave the fierce wind a nice, flat surface to attack. Maybe it was just the push against it, or perhaps it was sand gumming up the track it rolled in, but progress suddenly stopped.

  I pulled on the rope hard enough to lift my feet off the floor, but it wasn’t budging. Cursing a blue streak, I stepped into the partial shelter at the side of the opening and forced my gritty eyes open. Looking up, I could see that the wind was indeed the culprit. A section of door had been pushed hard enough to snap off one of its wheels. The metal rod that had been left behind was wedged tightly in one of the brackets that held the steel track to the building.

  I stared at the problem, eight feet over my head, for several seconds. Briefly considered trying to find a ladder and some tools. The idea was dismissed almost as soon as I had it. Then, I had one of those mental, fuck it, moments. The kind where you don’t know if something is going to work and you don’t give a fuck.

  Bringing my rifle around, I aimed at the problem, not caring if the bracket or the peg that was stuck in it gave way first. I just wanted the goddamn door to come down. Five shots later, the peg snapped off and the door shifted several inches. Grabbing the rope, I pulled and it kept moving.

  The section with the missing wheel banged and rattled as the wind clawed at it, but as I kept pulling the door managed to hold together. After what seemed a Herculean effort, the bottom edge contacted the floor. I slapped locking pegs in place and took a deep breath, looking around to make sure everyone was okay.

  After being exposed to the storm, it was almost quiet in the building, despite the roar from outside. Quiet enough to clearly hear the wails of Lucas’s youngest. Ziggy was cradling him in her arms, cooing softly to calm him. Everyone was coated with a layer of dust and looked a little shell-shocked. But we were alive and in shelter.

  51

  The heavy sedan bounced hard, a grinding sound accompanying the brutal impact as it briefly bottomed out. Captain Black was piloting it along a barely improved dirt road that wound up the side of a steep mountain. Dense jungle pressed in on both sides of the vehicle, frequently slapping against the windows.

  “You do know where you are going, do you not?” Viktoriya asked, cinching her seatbelt as tight as she could manage.

  “Somewhere safer than your safe house,” he said through gritted teeth as they dropped into another hole seemingly large enough to swallow them whole.

  “So you have said,” she grumbled under her breath.

  Five minutes later, engine straining and tires occasionally spinning, they crested an incline onto a level stretch of road. Black hit the brakes, kicking up dust as he brought them to a stop with the nose of the car inches from a heavy iron gate. He shifted into park, leaving the engine running and adjusting an air conditioning vent. Viktoriya looked at him expectantly, then slowly twisted around in her seat to survey the solid wall of green vegetation that pressed in on the path.

  “What are we doing?” she asked after a minute had passed.

  “Waiting.”

  “Waiting? Waiting for what?”

  Black didn’t answer, just stared straight ahead at the gate.

  “What are we waiting for?” Viktoriya asked again, frustration creeping into her voice.

  “Him,” Black said, pointing through the windshield.

  Viktoriya caught her breath when she saw a large man dressed in jungle camouflage standing near the front bumper. His face was darkened with stripes of black and green makeup and shaded by a wide brimmed boonie hat. A black combat rifle with strips of camouflage fabric hanging from it was in his hands, the muzzle only a few degrees off targeting the car’s windshield.

  “Keep your hands in sight,” Black said.

  Without taking his attention off the man, he popped his door open and stepped out into the dappled sunlight.

  “Looking for the Colonel,” he called.

  “Don’t know you,” the man answered.

  “He knows me. Tell him he still owes me from Afghanistan and I’m here to collect.”

  The man stared at Black for a beat, then mumbled into a throat mic. His eyes never stopped darting between Viktoriya and Black as he tilted his head slightly, listening to the response.

  “Name?” he asked.

  “Black.”

  The man relayed the information, lowering the muzzle of his weapon to point at the ground.

  “Heard the stories,” he said. “Sorry ‘bout that Lieutenant.”

  Black didn’t bother to correct the man on his rank. When he served with the Marine he was here to see, he had been a Lieutenant. A fresh faced, eager to conquer the world new graduate of Annapolis. He’d thought he knew everything. Colonel Tom Chapman, with twenty years of service and seven tours in the Middle East already under his belt quickly showed the wet behind the ears platoon commander the errors in his thinking.

  “Gotta walk from here. Leave the keys. We’ll take care of the vehicle.”

  “We?” Viktoriya asked as she stepped out of the car.

  She spun when there
was a muted cough behind her. Another man who had been invisible in the foliage at the edge of the path waved at her.

  The first man released a lock and swung the gate a few feet so they could pass through. Leaving it open, he led them around a bend then turned sharply into a narrow foot path that cut into the jungle. As they pushed farther into the deep shade, Viktoriya began looking around nervously and moved close to Black.

  “Are we safe?” she whispered.

  “Safe as in your momma’s arms, ma’am,” the man leading them said.

  Black grinned at her, then they had to focus on their footing as they climbed a steep hill. At the top, Viktoriya stopped and stared in awe. The jungle ended at the edge of a massive clearing. A modern home sat in its center, half a dozen outbuildings with open doors to the side. She could see several Humvees and a couple of four-wheel drive civilian pickups parked inside.

  Tall poles had been placed around the open area to support camouflage netting. The entire compound would be invisible from the air, blending in perfectly with the surrounding vegetation.

  As they walked across a neatly mown lawn, a pair of glass doors on the front of the house were thrown wide and a man strode out as if he were charging an enemy position. Almost two decades older than Black, he was whip thin and moved with a purpose.

  “As I live and breathe,” Colonel Chapman cried. “Lieutenant Chucky!”

  Rushing forward, he briefly embraced Black before stepping back and looking him up and down.

  “It’s Captain, now,” Black said, almost sounding embarrassed at correcting the man.

  “Well, kiss my skinny white ass! Captain!” His grin instantly morphed into a scowl. “Should be a damn Major by now. At least! Who’d you piss off?”

  Viktoriya stared in amazement as Black sheepishly lowered his gaze to the ground.

  “Long story, sir,” he said.

  Chapman nodded and the smile returned as quickly as it had vanished.