Extinction Point: Kings (Extinction Point Series (5 book series))

by Paul Antony Jones

  "Oh, shit!" Emily whispered, as she finally understood what was going to happen when those two ends met.

  "What?" Mac asked, his right hand positioned under his nose to try and slow the bleeding.

  "No time to explain." Emily took Mac's left hand in her own, then together they began to move gingerly from foothold to foothold down the escarpment toward the glowing fracture. On the opposite side of the fracture, Petter waited a few safe meters back from the gradually crumbling edge. He shadowed their every move, repositioning himself as Emily and Mac made their zig-zagging way down to the edge of the crack. Emily had spotted a large rock close to the edge, she angled toward it. She and Mac both let out a sigh of exhaustion when they reached it, using it as a foothold to momentarily catch their breath. The fissure was over a meter and a half wide now, and still growing, loose pieces of dirt and rock crumbling away from the edges even as they momentarily rested.

  They needed to move now.

  "Ready?" Emily said.

  "As I'll ever be, love," Mac replied, his broken nose giving his words a nasal tone.

  Emily kissed him gently on the tip of his shattered nose, then stood and signaled to Petter that they were going to try and make the leap across the chasm. She repositioned herself slowly around the edge of the rock until the only thing that was between her and certain death if she slipped was about twelve centimeters of slowly crumbling ground. Mac edged around beside her.

  Emily turned to her husband. "I want you to go—"

  Mac grabbed her under her arms and in one swift motion lifted her off her feet and threw her with all his remaining strength.

  Emily spun through the air, her arms flapping uselessly, her mind unable to register the shock or even have a chance to scream as she sailed through the air. She did however have just enough time to glance down into the crevice and the maelstrom of energy swirling within it. Then she felt another pair of arms grab her. She looked up into the handsome face of Major Djupvik.

  "Welcome, little sparrow," he said, smiling, then set her down beside him.

  Emily watched wordlessly as Mac braced his feet against the rock, swayed his body back and forth as if he was winding his body up in preparation for what was to come, and used the momentum to propel himself into the air, a trail of blood flying from his nose as he soared across the chasm. He landed close enough to the edge that his heels hung over the precipice, then he fell forward and rolled, only to spring up in front of his wife.

  "I'd punch you in your goddamn nose if it wasn't already broken," Emily said flatly. Then grabbed her husband and kissed him hard.

  Mac grimaced in pain as Emily's cheek pressed against his busted nose and her arms squeezed his broken ribs.

  "Come on you two. There'll be time for all that later," Petter said.

  They took off at a jog in the direction of the beach. As they ran, Emily re-threaded the sling into her shotgun, and slipped it over her shoulder. They had gone no more than thirty meters when a sound like rolling thunder filled the air, growing in volume with every second. Again, the ground shook and rumbled beneath the retreating humans' feet. Emily slowed to a stop and turned to face the direction they had just come from. The pillar of energy had vanished, replaced by a cloud of gray dust that billowed outward from where the edge of the fissure had been. Beyond that, a huge expanse of land where the entrance to the Locusts' base had been centered had vanished, collapsed in on itself, leaving behind a massive gaping hole in the earth that stretched for half a kilometer from one side to the other. A caldera Emily thought it was called, like when a volcano collapses in on itself.

  "Wow!" said Mac, apparently impressed by the level of destruction. "I did not see that coming."

  Through the pall of dust rising into the air, Emily thought she saw movement near the lip of the newly formed caldera. "May I?" she asked, motioning to Petter’s binoculars. He passed them to Emily and she raised them to her eyes, adjusting the focus until she could see clearly. An indistinct silhouette moved within the dust near the caldera's edge. Someone was alive back there.

  "Mac, I think there's still—" Emily stopped short. Through the binoculars' lens the indistinct shape finally resolved itself. Emily hissed a warning as the huge bulk of what had once been Dr. Sylvia Valentine emerged from the swirling dust, striding into view. Twenty mutant-humans clung to her body. They spilled onto the ground around Valentine, like baby wolf spiders from their mother. Valentine's head moved left and right, surveying the ruined landscape. Her multiple sets of eyes fixed on the group of humans standing as still as petrified trees. Even at this distance, Emily sensed the monster's gaze seeking her out, and when, finally, Valentine found her, the creature let loose a terrifying screech of hatred. Then, as one, the horde rushed toward the waiting humans.

  •••

  Mac was the first to open fire, blowing away one of the smaller but much faster mutant-humans as it sprinted ahead of Valentine. The rest of the team opened fire a second later, knocking down five of the mutants in quick succession. Emily stole a glance back toward the ocean; the tail-end of the survivors and their military escort were about two hundred meters away. There was no chance her people would be getting any backup from that direction before Valentine and her minions reached them. Besides, if they could not stop Valentine right here and now, the bitch would be on the retreating survivors in a matter of seconds after dealing with Emily and her party.

  Emily drew her pistol and fired shot after shot at the line of mutants rushing toward her. More fell, but it wasn't enough. The mutants were on them a moment later, while Valentine waited in the distance, watching as the once-human minions did her bidding.

  "Mac," Emily yelled, "We need to—"

  Mac turned and pointed his pistol at Emily.

  "Mac? No! Wait—"

  Mac fired two shots in quick succession.

  Emily felt the wake of disturbed air as the bullets ripped past her, then spun around to see the mutant that had been just a few steps away from her crumple to the ground, its still-human face frozen in a grimace of pain.

  Petter was yelling orders in Norwegian. While neither Emily nor Mac nor the other Brits could understand the words, the intention was clear. They ran to join the major, forming a semi-circle of two rows, facing their attackers. The rear rank stood while the front rank knelt, each weapon covering part of the ark of fire. Emily caught a blur of motion from her right. A man screamed. She turned in time to see two bodies rolling away, the mutant-human tearing at the soldier's chest with its claws, spraying blood everywhere as the man tried to fight back against the stronger adversary. Petter shot the creature in the head. It collapsed onto the now-still form of the soldier.

  A Jegertroppen let out a scream of pain, that turned into a roar of defiance as she shot the thing that had sunk its claws and teeth into her unprotected arm. She ripped her bloody arm from the mutant's jaws, cursing wildly in Norwegian as she kicked the dead body away from her, clutching her hand to the wound. Blood quickly seeped from between her fingers.

  The last two mutants died in quick succession.

  Breathing heavily from the battle, his bloody nose finally stemmed, Mac reloaded his rifle. Emily stepped up beside him and eyeballed Valentine. During the short fight, Valentine had remained close to the edge of the caldera, moving back and forth crab-like while her foot soldiers did their work. She had stopped pacing, and was now watching the humans as intently as they watched her, her head dipped low, contemplating her next move.

  "We need to catch up with the rest of our people, right now!" Petter hissed, coming up behind Emily and Mac.

  "Roger that idea," said Mac. He and his remaining men pushed the dead mutant off their fallen comrade, then Mac knelt and checked the soldier’s vital signs. Mac cursed and stood back up. "Let’s move."

  Emily, Mac, and the Norwegians took off at a jog toward Point Loma. Mac grunted quietly in pain with each alternate step he took, and a thin dribble of blood began to flow from his nose again. Periodically he woul
d flip around and check on Valentine's location. Emily focused on the distant outline of the sand dunes that delineated where the beach began and their people should now safely have assembled. She knew that if Valentine moved, Mac would let her know.

  The third time Mac turned to check, he let out a sharp curse, followed by a screamed warning to "Watch out!"

  Emily half-turned, reaching for her shotgun. She saw a blur of black heading toward the group. Heard the first report of Petter's weapon firing even as she saw one of Valentine's tentacle-like arms snap whip-like through the air and hit him, sending his weapon flying away. Petter's body spun twice through the air, and stopped directly facing Emily, a narrow slice cut through his tunic from his abdomen up his chest to his right cheek where the tip of Valentine's tentacle had caught him. Blood was already welling up through the wound. Petter staggered, tried to keep himself upright, but collapsed to the ground and lay still, blood pouring from his wound. Whether the Norwegian was unconscious or dead, Emily had no way to tell. She turned in time to see Valentine's huge bulk barreling directly toward Mac, her intention to crush him where he stood. Mac dived to his right, but he wasn't quite fast enough. Valentine caught him with the edge of her shoulder, knocking him six feet through the air before he landed hard on his back, his arms raised skyward from the elbow up, hands clenched into fists in the tell-tale autonomic response of someone who had been knocked senseless.

  The remaining soldiers fired their weapons in unison as Emily fumbled for her shotgun. Valentine screamed in pain as bullets ripped into her, gouging out large pieces of flesh, but her reactions were faster than the soldiers. She dipped to avoid the continuing spray of bullets, then swung a tentacle out in a vicious arc that knocked two men to the ground, leaving one man's arm almost severed at the elbow. The remaining Jegertroppen, already injured from her run in with the mutant-human, fired shot after shot, then screamed in pain as one of Valentines tentacles smacked with a sickening thud against her head. She collapsed to the ground.

  Emily finally managed to wrestle her shotgun off her shoulder, aimed it at Valentine's head and fired. Valentine must have sensed the shot because she dipped away just as Emily pulled the trigger, then screamed in blistering anger as the slug tore across her back, gouging a thick furrow through her tissue. Emily managed to rack another shell into the chamber before Valentine turned on her. She did not see which tentacle hit her. All she felt was a burning sensation in her hands and then the shotgun was no longer in her hands. Emily stared at her right hand and saw nothing but a bloody stump where her pinky-finger had been. She let out a gasp of pain and surprise as Valentine grabbed her, wrapping her tentacles tightly around her chest and squeezed. It felt like she was being crushed by two anacondas, the grip so tight she could not breathe, let alone scream.

  Three shots ripped through the air. Valentine bellowed in pain.

  Mac! Through vision that was quickly growing dark, Emily saw her husband laying on his back, his head moving as though his neck was barely able to hold it up. His finger continued to pull the trigger of his pistol, but nothing was happening, his magazine empty. Mac ejected the spent magazine from his pistol and fumbled for another one in his belt, but by the time he managed to slam it into the pistol, Valentine was gone, running toward the beach, Emily clasped firmly in her grasp.

  CHAPTER 21

  Emily's world turned monochrome. The edges of her vision became tinged with a black mist as she fought to draw in air, Valentine's grip on her cutting off all but the tiniest of breaths as the once-human abomination raced away. Valentine had her clasped like a baby to her ice-cold naked chest, so tightly it allowed Emily to catch only fleeting glimpses of the terrain, barely enough information for her oxygen-deprived pain-sliced brain to attempt to make sense out of.

  Hills? No, they were...sand dunes, rising on either side of her. Valentine was taking her to the beach, putting as much distance between her and Mac and Petter as possible.

  Why?

  Emily shuddered. Because Valentine wanted to take her time with her, that was why. They had some catching up to do, after all. Valentine had singled her out, had been so fixed on pulling her from the group alive when she could have undoubtedly killed her right then and there, instead of bringing her here, to the dunes. That meant only one thing; that even after all the mutations and changes that had been inflicted on the woman to turn her into this...this thing, there was still sufficient humanity left within her, still enough of Valentine's twisted excuse for a soul, that she recognized Emily and wanted her revenge. And Emily was sure it would be a terrible revenge.

  She sensed they were slowing. The continual bumping up and down as they climbed and descended the dunes now reduced to little more than a vibration as the dunes gave way to beach. She felt the pressure around her chest ease then disappear altogether as Valentine released her. She fell. Hit something soft, that gave beneath her weight. She barely noticed any of this because when she hit the ground, pain raked her chest, and the blackness that had almost completely receded closed in on her vision again. She managed to turn her head and vomited onto her shoulder. Then sucked in a puke-flavored gasp of air.

  Oh, dear God, I hurt.

  But there's air!

  Emily sucked in huge rasping lungfuls of it, her hands clasping at something fine and coarse that ran through her fingers. Sand, she realized as her fingers shifted within its warmth. Her chest hurt every time she breathed in.

  Broken ribs.

  And her hearing was filled with a pounding-hissing sound that Emily wasn't sure was her heart or the crashing of the waves onto the beach. She tried to lift herself up to a sitting position, and moaned in agony as lightning shot through her right side. She fell back into the sand.

  Definitely broken ribs; just hope they haven't punctured a lung.

  Then the breath was crushed from her again as Valentine snatched Emily from the ground and raised her high into the air until the two were face to face. Valentine held her there for a few seconds, her multiple eyes studying her prisoner. Then, without any warning, she dashed Emily to the ground. Emily's left leg smashed against the sea-worn remains of what had once been a Titan tree limb. She felt her left leg snap with a sickening crunch.

  Emily screamed silently, the excruciating agony freezing her mouth wide open, imprisoning the scream in her throat. Pain rolled in and out like the ocean waves for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she managed to exhale a pitiful mewl of agony that faded slowly to a panting sob of despair and misery. Even through the pain-induced haze that had turned her vision a raw red, she saw Valentine's mouth twist into a sadistic smile of pleasure. Her smile grew wider at Emily's scream as she reached out a tentacle and pressed hard against her shattered leg. Valentine timed the torture perfectly; as Emily fell helplessly toward a welcome unconsciousness, her captor released her hold on the injured leg, and Emily began to slowly rise toward full consciousness again.

  Tears flooded down Emily's face; part pain, part anger, part frustration at the realization that it was going to end like this, and that she would not be able to do a goddamn thing to save herself from this mutant bitch. Her weapons were all lost. All she had now were her hands. She beat her clenched fists weakly against Valentine's chest, a slow pathetic thump, thump, thump.

  It was useless. She knew it. Valentine knew it. But damn this monster to the hell she deserved if she thought she, Emily Baxter, was going to go down without a fight. She would never give up. Not this woman. Not now. Not ever.

  Her hands sank to the sand. Strangely, the sound her fists had made against Valentine continued. Well, not exactly the same, her befuddled brain thought, this was more of a...

  Emily tilted her head slowly to the right, trying to focus her eyes through the pain and the afternoon sun which had become intolerably bright. Behind Valentine, in the direction of Point Loma, standing atop a dune that seemed to Emily's pain-slitted eyes to stretch way up into the sky, a black indistinguishable blob of shadow appeared. Valentine, still fasci
nated by Emily's suffering had not noticed it yet. The blob of darkness moved quickly down the eastern face of the huge dune, resolving into a four-legged silhouette. As the shape drew closer, she realized the sound she heard was the low, snarling bark of...

  "Thor!" Emily hissed, as the indistinct shape resolved into the unmistakable form of her Alaskan Malamute. The dog ran full tilt toward Emily, his barking turning to growls of fury as he darted around Valentine, sinking his teeth into the meat of one of her rear legs.

  That got Valentine's attention. She howled in anger and spun around, her feet coming down close to Emily's head, sending sand flying into her eyes and mouth as she yelled out to her dog. Spluttering, Emily tried again to shout; Thor, run! Run! That was what she wanted to say, but the words would not leave her lips, the sand choking her.

  Thor continued to bark and growl, relentlessly hounding Valentine, diving in and out of her legs, nipping at her muscles, while Valentine howled more in frustration and anger than pain as she tried to grab him with her tentacles or stomp him with her powerful legs. If Valentine got hold of Thor, Emily had no doubt that she would tear him to pieces in a heartbeat. Still the dog continued to harass the monster, as if he knew that this was the same woman who had so callously rejected his affection when first she had arrived at Point Loma.

  Emily spat the sand from her mouth, and forced herself to a sitting position, "Thor—" she managed to say, before a thought appeared unannounced in her head. How did he get here? The last she remembered she had left Thor with—

  A shadow passed over Emily, easing the burn of the too bright sun.

  Emily raised her eyes in time to see the giant form of the Machine rising over the top of the sand dune Thor had appeared from. A second later, Rhiannon clambered over the top of the dune too, and stood there, jaw set in concentration, her hands outstretched as she guided the Machine nimbly down the side of the dune toward the three figures on the beach.