by Phil Tucker
Selah stared. It was McKnight. Her confidence and determination was a river rock that parted flow of incipient panic. She held the Captain's gaze with implacable calm.
"What?" The Captain's ability to process events was struggling to keep up. "Sergeant?"
"The Hybrids, sir. They're being deployed. We need them outside. A large wave of vamps is en route. We need them out there as a foil. I'm to escort them."
The Captain looked past her at the perimeter. Some stroke of luck saw a blast of gunfire erupt right then and sustain itself for three full beats of Selah's heart. His gaze grew sharp with suspicion. "I didn't hear about any wave of vampires."
McKnight shrugged and didn't respond. Her opinion as to his lack of information obvious.
Lee stepped forward and saluted. "Delta Force Sergeant First-Class Lee, sir. Permission to engage the enemy and kick some undead ass."
The soldiers behind the Captain grinned, and the Captain found his footing. A formal request for violence seemed more to his liking. "Delta Force, eh?" Selah carefully stepped behind Tom and half turned away, willing herself to be invisible. "All right. Proceed with your mission." Everybody saluted each other, and then they were off again.
McKnight strode next to her. "What the hell are you guys doing walking out in the open?"
"Getting out," said Selah. Gordon had taken point again, marching them straight toward a now visible airfield. "They're shutting down my vaccination. The President. He wants to--"
"I know," said McKnight, cutting her off. "I just finished speaking with Adams."
"You did?" Selah tried to wrap her head around that. "He called you?"
"I got through to him after I dropped you off."
Tom was a lanky shadow by Selah's side. "Why'd you help us, Sergeant?"
"I'll explain later. You still headed to the Bugbug?"
Lee was right behind them. "If the General's made it available to us. It our only way out."
McKnight shook her head. "That's why I've been looking for you. You'll never get clearance to take off. And if you do, you'll be taken down by the anti-aircraft missiles."
"General Adams will see to it," said Selah. "It'll work. It has to work."
They entered the airfield. It was more like half a football field of cement with a score of helicopters and a couple of vertical take-off jets scattered across its surface, men rushing back and forth between them. More gunfire from the perimeter. It came rapidly now, every few seconds. Dominique checked her Omni, and then looked up and pointed. Gordon followed her finger and saw a chunky copter that looked like it was shrugging under its sagging rotor blades. It was being prepped by a half dozen men. He nodded and hurried over.
"Stop!" Selah looked over her shoulder. The Captain. Furious, red in the face, running after them, a score of soldiers behind him.
"Lively now," said Lee.
They sprinted as a group toward the chopper. Gordon bellowed orders of his own and the technicians scattered. Tom jumped into the pilot's seat and they all scrambled into the hollow of its body, climbing into seats. More commands were yelled, but the rotor blades began to churn the air, the engine rising into a high whining roar, and the Captain and his men fell back.
Dominique scrambled into her seat as Gordon leaned over and buckled Selah in. McKnight was next to her, Lee up front next to Tom. The chopper shuddered, rose and hesitated an inch off the ground, and then surged up into the sky. The ground fell away, twisted to one side as they heeled off toward the perimeter. Selah let out a yell, grinning widely at McKnight beside her.
The Sergeant's sober frown stopped her cold. She looked outside. The mountains rose up around them, dark and majestic and covered with black trees. The sky was vibrant, the blue almost refulgent, the moon a disc of glowing pocked silver. The last of the base buildings were sliding out of view behind them. There went the perimeter fence. Gunfire. What was the problem?
Sparks exploded all around them and Selah let out a cry and covered her face. Somebody yelled a warning and the chopper hitched as if it were suddenly having trouble drawing breath. Selah grabbed onto an oh-shit bar, her heart lurching. She couldn't see anything wrong, there was no smoke, but Gordon's face had grown tight as if his skin had shrunk around his skull.
They were racing forward still, stabbing into the night, but again the chopper hitched, coughed, and through her seat, Selah felt the machine shivering and shaking. Something had gone wrong. Something had been broken or was in the process of breaking. She looked out the side. Tom had brought them low and they were scudding over the tops of the fir trees, nose down, heading toward the mouth of the valley. The sky still brilliant, the mountain slopes absorbing all light. Selah tried to yell out a question to McKnight, but without headphones, her words were stolen by the wind.
Another hiccup and then something broke. Selah felt the shock shake the chopper, and the world outside began to slide over to the right as they fishtailed through the night. Gordon flashed her a savage grin, and in that smile, Selah saw a devilish acceptance of finality. No, she thought, the thought clear and singular. I'm not ready.
They straightened, slurring over to the right again, but they were losing altitude. Selah felt as if she could lean out and brush her hand over the treetops. Felt them knock against the underside of the chopper's carriage. Tom lost all control as another series of cracks whiplashed through the helicopter and they dipped, turned sideways, and hit the treetops. Selah saw Lee leap out into the night, and then the world exploded into fragments of wood, snarling screams of heated metal, and everything came to a sudden and explosive stop.
Chapter 13
Pain. Selah shivered violently. Strapped in, head lolling down, eyes closed. Somebody was shouting, but it was far away. The pain was like a fire creeping up her side, flames licking her skin from within, awakening her flesh. She groaned, could barely open her mouth to do so. Where was she? A deep drumming sense of urgency beat at her, but she didn't understand what she had to do. Pain. It was growing sharper by the moment. With Herculean effort, she opened her eyes.
She didn't understand what she saw. Things were too blurred. Sparks were falling in beautiful cascades. She was buckled into a seat. But sideways, hanging against the straps, sagging toward the open side of the helicopter which rested on a mat of broken branches and tree trunks, fir needles thick and scorched. She was having trouble breathing. Having trouble even thinking.
McKnight was struggling beside her. As her safety harness clicked free, she half fell out of her seat onto the broken branches, catching herself at the last moment. Blood glimmered horrifically across her face. Selah lifted her gaze, saw Dominique hanging limply in her seat across from her. Gordon was gone. Selah coughed and pain blossomed white and absolute in her mind. She gasped, couldn't breathe, and then hands were on her, helping her out of her safety harness as well. She sagged free and fell into somebody's arms.
The pain receded. McKnight was steadying her, helping her sit on creaking and straining branches. She was yelling something. Selah couldn't understand the words. She could hear them, but they were just sounds. McKnight turned away in frustration and began to work Dominique free. Gordon appeared. Selah closed her eyes. She wanted to rest. Just for a moment.
Somebody lifted her. She was hauled up and out into frigid air. She opened her eyes. Gordon had her over his shoulder. It dug into her stomach. Nausea swelled up within her and she felt sharp flecks of glass grind against the inside of her skull. Gordon was making his way down, scrambling down a great tree. Then they were falling, hitting the snow with a jarring thud. He put her down and was gone.
She closed her eyes. Pain. She was no stranger to pain. She desperately fought for thought. They had crashed. Into trees. They were outside the lab. It was night. They had to move. They had to keep going. She tried to sit up and sank back down with a stifled cry.
The drumbeat of agony punctuated the darkness. Then something stabbed her in the thigh, and real fire began to pour through her veins, consuming h
er. She tried to scream and opened her eyes. Lee was crouched beside her, a fat hypodermic needle jabbed into her leg. He pushed down the plunger and then tossed it aside. The flames scorched their way up her body, and where they raced, they consumed the pain. Strength blossomed in its place, and with a gasp, Selah felt the tight bands ease around her chest and the headache recede.
She knew this feeling. Knew this strength. It was like the return of an old lover, the caress intimate and soothing. Power, energy, vitality. It coursed through her, and though her body felt ill-used, battered, and sore, she pushed herself up.
"How's Selah?" Gordon was coming down the tree, helping McKnight navigate the descent.
"Selah's fine," she said. It was bitterly cold, but she only registered the fact in abstract; the serum was burning up her body.
Gordon dropped the last five yards and landed lightly. McKnight took a breath and jumped after him, landing in his arms. He set her down and they both turned to look at Selah, McKnight wiping blood from her face. She felt feverish and the edges of everything felt strangely pronounced. This wasn't the same as true vampire power. This was a thin, synthetic simulacrum, but she'd take it. Right now, she would take whatever they could give her.
"That should hold you for an hour or two." Lee stood up next to her. "No sense in giving any to Dom. She's out cold. McKnight, you want a shot?" The Sergeant shook her head. Lee shrugged. "Gordon, can you carry her?"
Gordon scooped Dominique's still body up from the snow with ease. He didn't seem the worse for wear. Dominique looked small, shrunken with his arms. Nothing seemed wrong with her; she could have been sleeping lightly in his arms for all Selah could tell.
"Where's Tom?" Selah glanced around, expecting him to step into sight, his crooked smile in place.
Gordon shook his head. "Tom didn't make it."
"What?"
"We have to move." Lee's voice was sharp, decisive. "Everybody and everything in this valley just saw us go down. We've got to get away from the chopper before they close in on us."
"What do you mean, 'didn't make it'?" Though she knew. She just didn't want to admit it. She stared up at the dark bulk of the chopper where it hung in the cradle of a half dozen shattered trees, groaning and listing. The small clearing in which they stood was filled with shattered tree stumps.
"Come on." Lee stepped past Selah, moving toward the darkness.
Gordon shifted Dominique in his grip and began to follow. McKnight took up a handful of snow and pressed it to the gash in her scalp, her face hollowed out in the light of the moon. She took a few steps before turning back to Selah, who still looked up at the chopper.
Didn't make it. Was he up there right now? She felt the feverish glow of the Serum battle the numbness of shock.
"Selah." McKnight took a step toward her. "We have to move."
"We can't leave him up there," said Selah. Lee and Gordon stopped and looked back. "We can't." She knew better, but she couldn't help herself.
"We have to keep moving," said McKnight again. "There's nothing we can do for him."
Selah shook her head. Ignored her instincts. Thought of Tom's arms around her back in the Hybrid base. "No. We have to help him." Tears were tracking down her cheeks.
"Selah." Lee's voice was cold, impatient. "He's dead."
She knew that. She knew it. But she couldn't move. You're in shock said a quiet voice in her mind.
Lee stepped up to her. Looked her in the face. "Selah? Look at me. I know you liked Tom. He was a good guy." His voice was strangely gentle, as if he were talking to a six-year-old. Annoyance pricked at her. "But he's gone, yeah? He's not feeling a thing. Me? My ass is getting cold. So can you quit acting like a baby and start moving?" He gave her an encouraging smile and two thumbs up.
Fury. Selah lashed out. Not with the speed she once had possessed, nothing close to what Sawiskera had cursed her with, but Serum-boosted speed, her fist aimed at his smug face. Lee swayed aside easily and stepped back.
"How dare you? How dare you!" Selah wanted to tear his head off.
"Good. You angry? You mad? That means you're awake. Let's go." He turned and began to jog toward the trees.
Selah couldn't believe it. She wanted to rend him limb from limb. She looked to McKnight, who shook her head and took off after Lee. Gordon was already moving. She looked up once again. Somewhere in that dark mangled hulk was Tom. She tried to think of something to say, a goodbye, but then shook her head, wiped the tears away, and began to run after the others.
They ran into the trees, Lee taking the lead, Gordon powering along behind him. McKnight and Selah ran shoulder to shoulder, jogging forward in determination. Snow lay a foot deep on the hard ground, making their progress treacherous and exhausting, and the trees were a dark multitude all around them. In moments, they had left the clearing behind and were moving through a shadowland of gray snow and black trunks. The cold was beginning to pierce her, burn her face, but the Serum was a gift from the gods. Selah stared at Lee's back and played his words over and over again. Her anger started to fade. Had he manipulated her that efficiently?
The trees grew sparser and the sky became more visible overhead. Lee found a ridge of rock that he led them along, the mountain sloping steeply down to thicker woods to their right. After five minutes of hustling, he slowed down to a forced march, and Selah felt a wave of contempt. Was he tired already? Then she saw McKnight's face, which had gone from hollowed to drawn with pain.
"You okay?" she asked.
McKnight didn't even look at her. Breath pluming out in the cold, she simply nodded. Selah felt impressed all over again. McKnight was injured and somehow was still keeping up with two Hybrids and a serum-infused Selah.
"Incoming!" Lee's cry split the gelid air, and Selah looked around wildly before catching sight of shapes flitting down the slope toward them. She had a half second to make out their pale faces in the moonlight before Gordon and Lee opened fire. Two of the shapes slowed, staggered, and dropped. McKnight, her reflexes only human, pulled her gun out and took aim. Selah looked around desperately and picked up a branch. It was too green, too flexible, so she cast it away.
McKnight shoved Selah aside as a whipcord-lean woman fell upon them, her clothing torn, blond hair in two wrist-thick braids which whipped about as she fought to bury her teeth in McKnight's neck. Selah almost tripped over a rock, and then hauled it up. It was the size of a football, and without thinking, she fell forward and brought it down with all her strength on the vampire's head. She felt bone crack and give way. The vampire's struggles grew erratic and weak in McKnight's grip as Selah fell to her knees.
Yells and screams from behind them. Selah turned and saw spinning, whirling bodies in the darkness. The Hybrids were moving as fast as the vampires, and for a moment Selah thought they were evenly matched. But no. Lee and Gordon were two of the most dangerous men in the entire US military. Coupled with their Serum-boosted power, there was no contest. In a few moments, both vampires were down, mewling and spitting with fury, bones and joints broken and shattered.
Selah hauled McKnight to her feet. Gordon placed a new clip in his handgun and aimed it at a fallen vampire's head, but stopped when Lee pushed his gun down. "Save the ammo." He nodded and they turned to McKnight and Selah.
"You two all right?" The scorn was gone from Lee's voice. Selah nodded. McKnight took a deep breath then did the same. "Good. Stay tight. The night's just getting started."
They took off, leaving the vampires to writhe impotently in the snow. Adrenaline led them at a run again along the ridge, then for reasons of his own, Lee led them down into the woods, following a shallow declivity until Selah heard the sound of a stream. Under the canopy, the air was dark and close, but when they reached the stream, it ran like liquid metal under a sliver of open night sky. Lee turned and followed along its bank, keeping to a narrow shelf of smooth snow.
McKnight was tiring. Selah felt like surging forward, but forced herself to keep pace with the Sergeant. She couldn't te
ll where else she might be injured beyond the scalp wound, but McKnight began to stumble. How long had they been running for? Selah had no sense of time. Cries sounded from across the stream, yipping calls of delight and hunger, and Selah thought she could see shapes keeping pace with them.
"What are they waiting for?" asked Selah. "Why don't they attack?"
Gordon didn't turn around, kept jogging with dogged strength, Dominique in his arms. "Gathering numbers."
Lee dropped back. He ignored Selah's stare and touched McKnight's elbow. She swung around and stumbled again. Selah steadied her.
"Sergeant. You with us?"
"Yeah. I'm all right." Her words were slightly slurred, as if she had been drinking.
Gordon looked over his shoulder. "How she doing?"
"Concussion. We need to give her a shot."
One of the vampires left the darkness of the tree line and came forward toward the opposite bank. He didn't run. He didn't come charging across the snow. Instead, he walked. It was this slow approach that drew their attention. Selah stared at him and her stomach tightened into a vicious knot. Her mouth ran dry and the febrile power that washed through her blood suddenly felt as thin and insubstantial as flames licking a sheet of paper.
She knew him. Knew his face, dark with might and fallen majesty. Had seen his features lit by the neon lights of Miami. Had studied them by moonlight in the Huntington Garden in LA. With his help, she had slain the vampire king, the eldest of them all, and when she had seen him last, it had been to consume his heart, raw and bloody. Theo. Sawiskera's child, known once as The Dragon, who had loved her and had made the ultimate sacrifice so that she could beat back Sawiskera's curse.
He wore only a black shirt over dark jeans. The cold of course affected him not at all. He moved with the grace and poise of a natural dancer, each step fluid and certain. He radiated menace, though he made no threat. His presence poisoned the air, caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand. They had fought down some vampires, true; but The Dragon was a whole other matter. The Dragon was in a league of his own.