The Sixth Extinction: America (Omnibus Edition | Books 1 – 8)

by Johnson, Glen

  He was just thinking about banging on the door when the door swung open.

  “Doctor Bachman, sorry to keep you waiting,” said General Gordon. He looked different, more alert, as if having come alive now he was in familiar surroundings. Or the fact he wasn’t around the Director.

  He had obviously left General Lockwood in charge while he was away. Or this was Lockwood’s command, and the General came and went as he pleased. Either way, what did he care how many General’s were in the bunker?

  “Lieutenant French has explained the disturbing situation to me.”

  “As it turns out, we are not the only sentient species on the planet,” Bachman stated.

  “Indeed, and it is obviously an aggressive species.” The General glanced around the room as if it was the first time he had ever been in it. “Come with me, please Doctor.” The General spun around and vanished out the door.

  Bachman jogged to catch up with the older mans long strides.

  “Has there been any word from The Ark?”

  “As of yet the British bunker is still silent on all frequencies.”

  They walked at an slant, deeper into the large concrete mound. Doors whipped past on either side. Sounds of conversations, buzzing radios, and tapping keyboards filled the hallway – people busy at work.

  But doing what? Bachman wondered.

  Bachman was tired. He must have slept no more than a few hours on the plane, which was cold, noisy, and uncomfortable.

  Without even noticing where they had come from, three people were now walking along behind them. It was two men and a woman.

  They stopped at a large elevator. The door slid open without the aid of a button. They all stepped inside. He noticed a camera in the corner.

  Bachman wanted to ask where they were going. He hoped they were showing him to a room where he could catch up on some sleep and alone time. Even with the information he had learned from the British videos, there was still nothing he could do. He had eaten and now his body was screaming for sleep, to put his mind in order, to try to make sense of everything.

  It dawned on him that his own small room was gone, along with his meager belongings. With all the evacuation work, it never occurred to him to go back to see if there was anything he wanted to take with him.

  Good riddance.

  It was a room full of photo albums of his ex-wife, and previous life – old unwanted memories. Why he never threw them away he would never know? The choice was taken out of his hands.

  He noticed how long the elevator has been moving. They were going very deep. He knew the bunker was just under half a mile under the surface. He had no idea how long a lift would take to travel that far.

  The elevator pinged. The doors slid open. It was complete mayhem; the place was bustling with scientist and soldiers.

  “What is this place?” he asked.

  The General ignored his question. “Doctor Bachman, Doctor’s Lopez, Tracey, and Amstutz will show you our progress.”

  “Progress?” Bachman asked as they crossed the white room filled with scientific equipment of every variety. It made Groom Lake look inadequate. The room was a hive of activity. Technicians and scientist worked at stations arranged in semicircles. In the center of two facing sections was a thick glass pod. Inside the chambers were naked infected, that were thrashing about.

  “What is this place?” Bachman asked again as he turned. However, he was rewarded with the back of the General, who was heading off with a group of military personnel. He was left with the three scientists he had ridden down with in the elevator.

  Just as he asked the question, a yellow mist was pumped into the chamber closest to them. The infected creature inside thrashed about on the floor like someone having a violent seizure. Its back arched to the point Bachman swore he could hear vertebrate cracking. Then it started vomiting dark black-red blood like a fountain. It convulsed a few more times and then lay motionless in a pool of its own blood and body fluids.

  The skinny tall female, with horse-like features and spidery thin hands stated, “Welcome to our chemical weapons department!”

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  Alex, and everyone else

  A military checkpoint

  A nameless town off I79

  Within minutes, army personnel with automatic rifles surrounded them. Before the three could climb from the roof, they had to pass down their weapons. Troy was ushered out next to them. They were aware the tank was aimed right at them; along with two .50 caliber guns mounted on the two jeeps.

  Lindell explained to a man who had no weapon, but stood with his hands behind his back, radiating an air of confidence that there were men, women and a child in the container.

  The man didn’t respond at first; he just stared, as if weighing them up.

  He reminded Alex of an SS officer. He had chiseled features and jet-black greased back hair.

  The King brothers, Troy, and Alex stood by the back doors, each nervous about the weapons pointing at them. They were aware of the silence from the container, as if those inside were straining with their ears against the metal.

  “We are American citizens,” Terrance stated. “We are just trying to find somewhere safe.”

  “Firstly, I am Captain Stitt, and I apologize for the treatment,” the man said as he eyed them up and down. “However, we have been fooled before.”

  “Fooled?” Troy itched his arm nervously.

  “All vehicles traveling in this direction have to go through us, a kind of barrier you might say.” He removed his hands from behind his back and pressed them together. He was wearing thin black leather gloves.

  “The last lorry was full of women. They weren’t there by choice. They were being herded by unscrupulous men. Men who decided to start a little harem out in the sticks.” He stared at the back doors.

  The army around them all wore gasmasks apart from their officer. It was hard to see what they were looking at.

  “When we open this door, we will not get a surprise, will we?”

  “It’s locked from the inside,” Alex stated.

  “Inside?”

  “Our friends inside have the key, so if anything happens to us, they will still be safe.”

  “Interesting.”

  “There are ten people, three men, six women, and a child,” Troy stated.

  As he was speaking, they could hear the sound of the chain inside rattling.

  The soldiers gripped their weapons harder.

  Lindell put up his hands. “Calm down, they are coming out.”

  The soldiers were in a semi circle around the back doors. The commanding officer stood back a few paces, to allow his men to get a better view.

  As one of the wide doors started to swing open, a collection of tired, underfed people stood blinking in the sunlight. Dante started crying. Cody shouted for help, stating his wife needed medical treatment. A large blue tote barrel was on its side, looking like it was about to roll out the back door.

  “Move it soldiers, we have some civilians in need of assistance,” the officer shouted.

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  Doctor Bachman

  Underground military facility

  Quirauk Mountain, Pennsylvania

  Bachman was mad. All the while, as they were trying to find a cure in Groom Lake, here they were trying to create a weapon!

  “It is the most effective bio weapon we have ever witnessed, creating a creature that will attack anything around it,” Doctor Amstutz stated. He was in his mid thirties, with broad shoulders and muscular. He was a beefy man with an accent Bachman couldn’t place.

  “Just think of its implications if we could control it?” the third doctor stated. Doctor Tracey was a tubby, unfit, bald man, with wet eyes, and with the worst teeth Bachman has ever seen. His breath stunk of rot.

  The underground chamber was buzzing with activity. The clicking of keyboards, scientific apparatus, and the thrashing of the infected inside their glass execution chambers.

  “Of course we are a long w
ay from perfecting it. But we have had a few successes,” Lopez stated.

  “What kind of success?”

  “We have identified how the DNA strain is modified,” Amstutz said.

  “A doctor in England worked that out days ago,” Bachman said smugly. “It seems there’s been a breakdown in memos.”

  The three doctors looked at each other.

  “Where is the General?” Bachman asked, turning to a soldier stood against a wall, just in case a creature escaped. “I’m not helping create a weapon. I’m trying to find a cure!”

  The soldier just stared straight ahead.

  “Are you deaf?”

  “The Generals very busy,” Amstutz stated.

  “This is your job now,” Tracey announced. “Helping us perfect the Black Strain, as we like to call it.”

  “Just imagine the implications if we could control something like this,” Lopez said while sweeping a fat arm towards the closest glass pod.

  “I know the implications, you fucking idiot; I have been living through them, along with the rest of the world, for the last three weeks.” He stared at each scientist in turn. The look on their faces was confusion; they couldn’t understand his reasoning.

  “You’re all deranged? This is madness!”

  “No Doctor Bachman,” Doctor Amstutz stated, “this is the future.”

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  Alex, and the group

  Mole Town

  A military installation outside New York City

  The army called it Mole Town, even though it was just seven blocks that they had secured. Large barriers blocked off junctions and streets. Outward facing windows were covered. The seven-block area was locked down tight.

  There was just a handful of female civilians wandering around in a daze. They had survived the onslaught of the Eaters, but now found themselves locked away in a prison of their own making. Several food stores were encompassed by Mole Town. It looked like most of the shops were unaffected by the rioting. A few windows were missing, but the glass had been cleaned away. Whether there was anything of use left in any of them was another matter.

  The main building – taking up three blocks – was a hospital.

  After they were first taken into the compound, they were checked over by the army medics. Abigail was taken to the ER – the only section still being run like a hospital – due to her unresponsive body language, along with Phyllis, who was suffering from dehydration. Cody stuck to his wife as if his life depended on it. The others were given vitamin tablets and told to drink more water.

  They were then taken to the canteen; it was a large cafeteria of a modern law firm next to the hospital. Masterpieces and artwork surrounded them, but now it was worthless. If it couldn’t be consumed it was useless, its only use now was as fuel for a fire.

  Quiet women served them. There was no conversation or questions. They wolfed down food like they hadn’t eaten in days. Even Dante wasn’t crying for once. He seemed to like the change of scenery and a full stomach.

  Alex noticed two of the serving women had black eyes. He was unsettled by how silent they were. They didn’t want to know who they were serving, or where they had come from. They kept their eyes averted, and their mouths shut.

  The group tried to strike up conversations, but they were ignored. Eventually, the prospect of a warm, decent meal averted everyone’s attention.

  They were then escorted back to the hospital by another armed soldier.

  Alex noticed most of the lights in the corridors were switched off. The reception desks in each section they walked through looked eerie, all silent with dark monitors. All the shelving and cupboards were bare as if everything of use was collected and stored somewhere else. Heart monitors on trolleys sat covered in a thin layer of dust with their numerous cables draped to the floor like mummified intestines. Medicine trolleys stood pushed up against the walls, empty. Sheets and towels were piled in corners.

  There were others in the wards. People huddled in their corners with their worldly belongings, hidden behind separating blue curtains. Coughing and crying filled the silence, and low murmurs of conversations drifted along the empty halls, which silenced as their footsteps approached.

  The unshaved soldier leading the way said nothing. He looked exhausted, but he did seem to pay a lot of attention to Bonnie and Jessica.

  As the small group turned a corner, a woman with an eight or nine-year-old daughter stopped walking and leaned their backs against a wall, waiting for them to pass, staring at them the whole time. The mother had her arm across the child’s chest in a protective gesture.

  “How many are housed in the hospital?” Troy asked the soldier.

  “Maybe a hundred-ish.” He didn’t elaborate.

  “How many soldiers?”

  “About fifty-ish, give or take.”

  The man obviously knew how many were stationed at the makeshift town. It made Alex wonder why he was being so vague, or maybe he was just too tired to care.

  They were taken to a large ward on the third floor. The toilet was pointed out, which they would have to share, but there was a shower, which they would all take turns using. There was a pile of white towels by the shower door.

  The soldier gave the females one more look over before wandering off back the way he had come. He didn’t give them any direction or state when the next meal was. With the gait of a man in no rush, he vanished around the corner.

  Each of them had a single hospital bed and a small surrounding area, which they could pull the bright blue curtain around to provide some privacy – if merely from sight, not sound.

  All the electrical instruments dangled from the white walls behind each bed. A TV, an oxygen mask, and a panel of now useless buttons.

  Alex grabbed a bed by the large window. He had a bedside cabinet, a high back chair, and an adjustable bed, which wasn’t plugged in and was set flat. There was a single white sheet on the bed and another thin sheet and blue blanket folded on top, along with a single flat foam pillow that looked uncomfortable.

  Alex stared out the window. He could see the barricade at the end of the street, with soldiers walking along the top, keeping an eye on the streets beyond. In the distance, plumes of smoke drifted heavenwards. There was no one on the street outside. All the streets were empty of abandoned vehicles, which were used as part of the towering barricades.

  Something was niggling at the back of his mind. Something he saw, or not seen. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

  The others grabbed a bed each.

  Abigail and Phyllis were still down getting medical attention, with Cody tagging along.

  The King brothers took beds opposite each other right next to the large opening onto the corridor, as if taking up a protective position.

  Naomi tossed her stuff onto her chair, and dropped herself down onto the bed and lay smoking looking at the high ceiling. After a quick shower, she decided she would shoot up in the toilet and be in another world by the time she lay back on her bed – leaving this decaying, dying world behind.

  Tierra lay the sleeping Dante in bed and pulled the chair up next to it. It was the first time her son had a full stomach in weeks. She slumped down and was asleep herself within minutes with one arm resting on Dante’s rising and falling back.

  The priest sat in his chair with his arms on his knees, staring at his hands as if they were awash in dripping blood. His bible lay on the white sheet. The gold lettering looked mockingly pristine considering everything he had been through. He ran a hand through his beard and unkempt hair. He swung a hand over and flipped open the bible, and poked a finger at a random line in Romans. It read: For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. “Amen,” he muttered.

  Juan noisily pushed one bed over closer to another, so he could be with his sister. Bonnie sat on her bed brushing her fingers through her dark hair, while staring blankly at her feet. Every now and then, she missed her father, even though he only ever caused problems and misery. She wondered where
he was right at that minute.

  Jessica took the bed next to Alex. She dropped down onto her back with a long sigh. But within a minute, she was back on her feet heading to the shower. She decided to stand under the spray for as long as possible, until someone pounded on the door and complained she was taking too long.

  Within only a couple of hours, their lives dramatically changed. They were full and safe. However, something didn’t feel right.

  Troy dumped his stuff on a bed and wandered over to the King brothers. The brothers stood close talking in an undertone.

  “Do you feel it too?” Troy asked.

  “Yeah, something isn’t right,” Lindell remarked.

  “Did you see the look on the faces of those two we passed in the corridor?” Terrance questioned. “They looked terrified.”

  “Could be they have only just arrived themselves,” Troy stated while trying to give the benefit of the doubt.

  “I don’t know it just doesn’t feel right somehow.” Lindell twisted his neck to make his shoulder click.

  “What about the shiners on the females who served us our food?” Lindell stated.

  Terrance shrugged his shoulders. A month ago, a black eye had a different meaning. Now it was just part of living in a violent world. There was a hundred ways someone could get a shiner.

  “Did you notice, apart from the soldiers, we haven’t seen one other male in the whole complex?” Terrance questioned.

  Alex had wandered over and heard the conversation. “What do you plan on doing?” Alex asked the King brothers.

  “You and Troy see if you can find out where they have taken the truck. Terrance and I will have a poke around; see if we can put our minds at ease. If they have nothing to hide they won’t mind us wandering around.”

  Down the end of the long corridor, a small hidden camera zoomed in on the group huddled at the end of their ward.

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