The Extinction Series | Book 1 | Point of Extinction

by Ellis, Tara

  “The way I see it,” the nearest man said with a heavy accent. “Is you either wait until the rest of our patrol arrive so we can all escape this deathtrap, or else no one is going to get off this island.”

  Peta spotted the emblem on their uniforms. “National Police,” she whispered to Devon.

  “They’d just as soon shoot us as help us,” he murmured back.

  “They heard the helicopter,” she surmised. “I’d bet their station is close.”

  “It’s okay,” Luciano pled, placing himself in-between one of the men and Lieutenant Rogers. “My son and I do not want to leave the island. And why would you? How can you abandon your families? Please, put the guns away. It is not right to take their aircraft.”

  The older man continued to move toward the police, drawing their attention. When Peta saw two other figures emerge from the trees behind them, she held her breath. It was hard to tell, but it looked like a man and teenage boy.

  Her heart leapt, and Peta grabbed at Devon, pulling him slowly sideways.

  The officer positioned near the back of their group heard the new arrivals and began to rotate in that direction, leading with his gun. “Hey!” he shouted in warning, startling his partner.

  Peta flinched as she watched the other officer take a sideways step.

  But he didn’t know where to focus his attention, and swung his weapon back and forth on the multiple targets.

  “Move,” Peta whispered, falling into Devon. Her palms were sweaty and she tripped over her own feet, unable to look away from Luciano, who continued to move toward the officer.

  The first shot exploded through the open space, and Peta watched in horror as Luciano collapsed.

  Andry screamed, Hernandez returned fire, and everyone dove in opposite directions as the scene erupted into chaos.

  Devon grabbed at Peta, but she was already moving for the door of the helicopter as he shoved her inside.

  The retort of several shots echoed, making it impossible to think clearly.

  Scrambling onto her stomach, Peta covered her head in a vain attempt to block any stray bullets. She rolled to her side and away from the open door, and saw a muzzle flash from Rogers weapon as he flew backwards with a grunt.

  Chapter 23

  TYLER

  Arrachart Airport

  Antisiranana, Madagascar

  750 miles NW of Mauritius Island

  Tyler didn’t know what was happening. He’d barely had time to register the fact that there were other people gathered in front of them, when a man shouted and shots began exploding around him.

  He was jerked to the ground by his dad, who then threw himself on top of Tyler, knocking the mask partway off his face in the process. Uncertain whether he should be more alarmed by the bullets or breathing toxic fumes, he squirmed frantically under his dad, trying to get his arms free.

  “Stay down!” Bill hissed close to his ear. “Stop it, Tyler.”

  Tyler realized his dad’s lips were pressing against his head. That meant his mask had to be all the way off, too, and he was still breathing well enough to talk. The focus it took to process the information was enough to help Tyler get control of himself. He stopped struggling and took a hesitant breath. There was an unpleasant trace of a rotten eggs smell, but his lungs didn’t burn and his eyes weren’t watering. He knew methane didn’t have a smell, but his dad had mentioned other gasses could be mixed in with it.

  Turning his head sideways on the concrete, he realized it had gone quiet, aside from a man sobbing and someone else groaning. The pressure on his back lessened but his dad kept a hand on his shoulder.

  “Stay here.”

  Tyler nodded and then pushed up onto his elbows after his father stood. He watched him creep closer to where the gunfight had unfolded, and briefly wondered what had happened to the man he’d spent his life with. The whole day was a series of increasingly uncharacteristic behavior by his dad and it left Tyler questioning if he really knew him at all.

  The two-hour trek along various dark, destroyed roads to reach the airport had been an intense, otherworldly experience. They were littered with trees, power poles, some abandoned cars, and way too many dead animals. Birds had fallen from the sky and snakes were cooked on the broken blacktop. There’d been three earthquakes during the course of the hike and each time, Tyler was convinced they’d be crushed by trees already damaged, only there was nowhere to seek shelter.

  His dad was relentless with the pace he set, and it made Tyler regret all those mornings he opted not to go jogging with him. He kept checking the Garmin and twice sent and received messages with his mom, though he didn’t share any of the information with Tyler. The constant demand for him to go faster only added to Tyler’s anxiety. By the time they heard the helicopter, and then cut across the field and made it to the edge of the airport where his dad said it should have landed, he was already amped up.

  “I’m Bill Edmonds!” Bill shouted, raising his hands in the air.

  Tyler’s stomach knotted. It was tough to tell from the faint interior glow of the helicopter and the random beams from the flashlights, but he thought the men shooting at the soldiers were Madagascar police. How could his dad be sure who’d won the firefight?

  Tyler assumed they would have to trust the soldiers, since they were the ones there to rescue them. Except, why were they in a shootout with the local police? As much as he wanted to escape the nightmare, Tyler had an equal amount of desire not to get shot.

  “You’re Edmonds?” a man yelled back; his voice strained. “The kid with you?”

  Bill lowered his hands and looked down as he side-stepped a body. Approaching one of the soldiers holding both a gun and flashlight, he pointed back at the police officers. “I need you to identify yourselves, and explain what happened here.”

  “We don’t have to explain sh—”

  “Ensign!”

  Tyler rose to his knees so he could see who else was talking. Another soldier, holding one arm with the other, took an unsteady step forward. “Lieutenant Rogers and Ensign Hernandez, Mr. Edmonds. I can understand you have a lot of questions, but we frankly don’t have time to stand around and answer them. These men attacked us, unprovoked. According to them, more are on the way. So, you can either choose to help us get this bird refueled so we can get the hell out of here or stay and take your chances. The choice is yours.”

  Bill motioned for Tyler to come forward without turning. “This is my son, Tyler. Tell us what to do.”

  Rogers gave an approving nod and turned to the man called Hernandez. “Get it done, Ensign.”

  Hernandez jerked a thumb at Bill and then yelled toward the helicopter before marching over to the three downed officers. “If you’re done hiding, Devon, you wanna give me a hand? The airport worker ran away as soon as we started shooting.” He kicked a gun away from the nearest, unmoving policeman, and then moved on to the next.

  Tyler scurried forward, already feeling safer. He liked the decisiveness of their new friends. In the middle of the chaos, it felt good to have someone take charge who didn’t show any doubts about the orders they were giving.

  A black man wearing a flowered shirt and Bermuda shorts hopped down from the helicopter, looking chastised. “Yeah, well, if I’d had a gun it would have made more sense for me to get involved.”

  Hernandez tipped his chin toward the gun that had stopped spinning on the tarmac a few feet from Devon. “There ya go.”

  Devon stooped to pick it up.

  “These two are dead,” Hernandez continued, addressing the man Tyler assumed was the commanding officer. The Ensign pointed with his weapon at the third man on the ground near his feet. “This one’s alive, but he won’t be for long with that chest wound.”

  Lieutenant Rogers waved him away. “There isn’t anything we can do for them. Just secure their weapons and get that generator running.” Having issued his directive, the Lieutenant knelt down next to the older, groaning man Tyler had seen attempting to stop the police
. Another guy was sobbing and holding his hand.

  When Rogers tried to lean over the injured man, he grunted in pain and grabbed at his arm again. Now that Tyler was closer, he could see there was a growing circle of blood soaking through the sleeve of his left arm.

  “Thank you, Luciano. I’m sorry for those men’s cowardice. I don’t know how much we can help you, but you and your son are welcome to come with us.”

  Luciano reached out and took hold of the Lieutenants good hand, shaking his head. “No. No, Andry and I will return home. It’s just my shoulder. I think I can walk with his help.”

  “You should come with us,” a woman said from behind them.

  Tyler had only gotten a glimpse of the blonde lady before the shooting started. As she approached them, he wasn’t sure what to make of her. She spoke the way his mom did; like a soldier. However, with her blonde hair piled loosely on her head, dirty tank-top and jeans, and an impressive scar across her left cheek, she looked more like a mercenary. As he watched, she crouched down and retrieved one of the dropped pistols, sticking it into the back of her jeans to complete her warrior look.

  Andry lunged to his feet and angrily pushed Rogers aside. “No! My father is right. You have already done enough. We should have never stopped.” With some effort he hauled his father to his feet. Without another word, he looped an arm under his good arm and the two of them slowly shuffled away into the darkness.

  “Peta!” Devon called. He was with Hernandez and Tyler’s dad near what Tyler figured had to be the generator. It coughed once and then chugged to life, the smell of exhaust confirming their success.

  Peta squinted at the Lieutenant. “You need to do something about that arm.”

  He grinned slightly and then winced as he began walking to the helicopter. “I’m fine. What I need to do is go flip some buttons so we can get out of here before it’s too late.”

  “Too late?” Tyler echoed, speaking to them for the first time. “You mean because of the other cops that might show up?”

  “What’s your name?” Peta asked, with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

  Lieutenant Rogers continued his quest, leaving Tyler alone with her. He wasn’t surprised the other soldier took in his tall, lanky form and assumed he was too weak to help. “Um, it’s Tyler. He’s my dad,” he added lamely, pointing at the other men, who were now busy pulling hoses around.

  Peta squinted, like she was scrutinizing him under a microscope. “Our main threat right now is the ash you can see starting to fall. Once enough of it settles into the atmosphere, nothing with an engine is going to work for very long.”

  Tyler tried to swallow but couldn’t. Like the odds weren’t stacked against them enough already. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  She stared again, making him squirm. “You don’t?”

  “Peta!” Devon sounded angry.

  Peta flinched and then jogged away without answering Tyler’s question. He was left alone beside the helicopter with two dead men less than thirty feet away, and one that was dying. He didn’t know what to do. Could he help the guy with the chest wound? Should he?

  The light from the helicopter wasn’t enough to reveal more than the outline of the bodies, though it didn’t make it any less real. Tyler’s breathing became more rapid and he broke out in a cold sweat. His dad didn’t even say anything about the air and if they should put their masks back on, but since no one else was wearing them, he figured it must be safe. His eyes flitted from the bodies, to the relative security of the helicopter, and then where the thick jungle began.

  He headed for the light and the illusion of protection it offered. After pulling himself up inside the big open door, Tyler was surprised by the stark interior of the helicopter. It didn’t even have any real seats, so he chose to simply sit cross-legged on the metallic floor. If they’d wanted his help, he supposed they would have asked, so he didn’t feel guilty about resting for a few minutes. It had to be close to nine-thirty at night. Although it wasn’t late for him, Tyler was exhausted. If he ever got to sleep in a bed again, he’d stay there for at least twelve hours.

  After a few minutes, Lieutenant Rogers twisted in the front seat to look back at him. “You know, during refueling this isn’t really the safest place to be. You might want to watch from outside.”

  Tyler shrugged. “If this thing blows and strands us here, we’re all going to die anyway, right?”

  Chuckling, Rogers didn’t try to argue with him. “Yeah, you’ve got a valid point there, kid. It’ll get noisy for a few minutes. Shouldn’t take too long once it’s started.”

  As soon as the roaring sound began, Tyler wondered what it would take for the Lieutenant to consider something to be really loud. Clasping his hands over his ears, he closed his eyes and eventually allowed the vibration to course through his body. He found that for a time, it blocked out the anxiety. He was almost disappointed when it suddenly stopped.

  “All done!” Rogers called out, and Tyler opened his eyes.

  His dad was already at the door, staring at him while wiping his oily hands on his jeans. “You okay?”

  Tyler offered a small grin in answer and then reached out to help him inside. Devon and Peta were right behind him. Ensign Hernandez climbed in last, while carefully surveying the dark, empty tarmac and tree line. “No sign of anyone,” he barked, while climbing forward into the open cockpit. “Let’s get this thing back in the air. We’ve been here way too long.”

  The rotors immediately sprang to life in response, and a whine much louder than the fueling filled the space around them. Tyler covered his ears again, wincing that time. He gladly took a headset when Peta offered him one.

  “How long is the flight?”

  Tyler looked at his dad, startled at first to hear his voice so clearly over the increasing noise. Then he realized all four of them were wearing the headphones and figured they were voice activated.

  “It’ll be close to six hours,” Devon answered. “Rogers said it’ll be pushing the limits on how far this thing can fly.”

  “Great,” Bill huffed. “Nothing can be easy, can it?”

  The helicopter started to rise then, the initial lift jerking them all slightly before smoothing out to a gentler swooping motion.

  “Not today,” Peta said. She was appraising his dad the same way she’d been looking at Tyler earlier. Tilting her head, she clasped her hands in her lap and leaned forward. “I’m wondering what makes you and your son so important? More so than say, the other twenty-six million people on that island down there.”

  Bill blushed and opened his mouth to speak but then shut it again. He clearly wasn’t sure how to answer it. Tyler knew.

  “Because my mom is an intelligence officer at Diego Garcia!” he blurted. The feeling of shame he’d been suppressing all day rose to the surface and boiled over. “She knew something like this might happen! She knew, and then made arrangements to get us when it did.” Tyler wiped the tears angrily from his face. He didn’t deserve to cry. Peta was right. Everyone else was dying. Why should Mikael and his family die, while they got to live?

  As the helicopter turned to head toward the sea, Tyler saw several lights dotted along the road leading to the airport. Then, something ricocheted off the side of the helicopter, making a sharp metallic sound followed by a thud.

  “They’re shooting at us!” Rogers announced as he veered the helicopter in the other direction and rapidly climbed higher.

  Tyler held his breath until it was obvious they were too far away for the bullets to reach them. Only, he had a feeling that the desperate policemen would only be the first to try and punish them for surviving.

  Tyler stared stoically out into the dark, empty space where the ocean spread away to an invisible horizon. He was unable to feel any joy at their escape.

  Chapter 24

  JASON

  Seattle, Washington

  Jason walked the length of the hall with a lighter step than he’d had for the past seven hours.
The Incident Commander vest he’d been forced to wear was clutched in his hand, and he was eager to hand it over to a hospital administrator who’d finally made it in.

  While Jason was an experienced medic and soldier with some solid federal emergency response training, he was still only a trauma resident. Historically, someone from administration would call the shots, working oversight and allowing those with various areas of expertise to carry them out. Jason wanted nothing to do with organizing logistics, running the HAM radio, or coordinating the emergency supply drop from the National Guard. His specialty was emergency medicine and he’d happily trade in the vest for one that simply said “medical”.

  Initially, the problem was The Big One had the audacity to strike outside of normal business hours. Aside from the emergency department and a couple of other in-hospital programs, clinics didn’t open until eight. Even if arriving early, not many employees from upper management were on site at six thirty. The nursing supervisor overseeing operations at the time was still new and hadn’t been through any incident command training, so had no idea how to run a proper, organized response. Of the two administrators his colleague Brian tracked down initially, one was injured and the other wasn’t part of the safety team and wanted nothing to do with it.

  “Dr. Hunter!”

  Jason stutter-stepped and grabbed at the wall to stop his forward momentum. Taking a step back into the hallway juncture he’d just passed, he glanced to the right and saw a nurse waving him over. The guy had more than ten years trauma experience, so if he was flagging Jason down, it was no doubt necessary.

  The dim, emergency lighting provided by the hospital generators was adequate to see well enough to get around, but not much more. He clicked on the headlamp he’d procured from the disaster supplies he’d broken into. As he passed two other gurneys that were lined up, he took a closer look at what the nurse was pushing on.