Extinction New Zealand Box Set | Books 1-3

by Smith, Adrian J.

  Dee checked each room number, desperate to find Lab Five and retrieve the goddamn book.

  Still they fled from the beasts, down corridors with red and yellow lights, upstairs and through endless doorways.

  After ten minutes of running and firing on any Variant that got too close, Dee’s eyes widened at the number painted on the door to her right that was fast approaching. Lab Five.

  “Jack!”

  “I see it!”

  The Renegades scrambled inside. Frantic, she searched through the drawers of the desk. She came up blank. It was full of files and invoices. But no logbook.

  “It’s not here!”

  “Keep looking. Search every drawer.”

  “I have.”

  Boss joined her, searching a workbench covered in glass vials. “What am I looking for?”

  “Black book.”

  “Like this?” He held up an A4 book with red rubber bands around it.

  Dee made up the space between them and thumbed through the pages. She had no idea what any of the writing meant but recognized some chemical symbols. At the front of the book was what she was hoping for.

  Dr Katherine Yokoyama. Hemorrhage Virus trials.

  “Yes, Boss. You star!” Dee kissed the gangly teenager.

  “Let’s go! Over here,” said Jack, waving his rifle at another door.

  — 22 —

  As Dee fled, she shoved the logbook inside her fatigues, securing it with Velcro. After everything they had been through in the last twenty-four hours, there was no way she was going to lose it. If it indeed held the key to ending this madness, then she wanted to do everything she could to get it to the right people.

  Finally, they burst into a corridor bathed in bright white light. After being in semi-darkness for so long, it stung her eyes. She held up a hand to block out the harsh light.

  The only door in this corridor was at the very end. Dee exchanged a look of confusion with Jack.

  “Looks like that way, then,” he commented, and took off towards it.

  A high-pitched howl echoed down the corridor, confirming that the white Variants were closing in fast.

  Dee spun. “Hurry, Jack!”

  He was punching in the code as Dee grabbed Aroha’s hand and sprinted for the now-open door, mist swirling out. With no time to think of the why’s, Dee burst through into the room, closely followed by Boss. Pivoting, she slammed the door behind Yalonda. The door had a metal wheel in its centre, just below a small window. Dee spun it clockwise, grinning at the sound of locks clicking into place. She peeked through the window. White Variants poured into the brightly lit corridor, filling it fast. Whatever happened now, there was no going back.

  A thought flitted through her mind.

  They wanted us in this room. That’s why they didn’t attack.

  Lights blinked on in the room, casting eerie shafts through the dissipating mist. Dee frowned as the mist lifted as it was sucked through vents high up in the walls. With the mist cleared, she got a better look at the room. And gasped. The room was completely tiled, floor, ceiling and walls, in glossy white tiles. Occupying the walls on either side of her were men and women, locked into place by metal bars looping over their torsos and legs, arms pinned to their sides. Breathing apparatuses covered each person’s mouth and nose, and tubes stuck out of it. Each had IV drips and bags, and all were naked. In the centre of the room was a sarcophagus-shaped pod. A soft blue light glowed from within, and a computer display showing life signs beeped on one side.

  Dee covered her mouth with her hand, sucking in a breath. She scanned the prisoners—for that was certainly what they were. There were fifteen in total. Four women and eleven men. Dee moved closer to one of the men, a Maori. She quickly scanned the other men. Nine other Maori inhabited the pods.

  Hone’s missing people?

  Yalonda let out a low whistle. “Guys? What the fuck is going on?”

  “No idea,” said Dee.

  She crouched next to Aroha. To the little girl’s credit, she was remaining stoic. Dee could guess what was going on but didn’t want to voice her fears in front of the little girl. She was amazed at her acceptance of the situation.

  Dee glanced up at Jack. He was standing close to one of the imprisoned men. He had nasty burns over his chest and neck, and the top half of his left leg was wrapped in a heavy bandage. Jack was staring at a tattoo on the man’s shoulder. It was of a kiwi wearing an army helmet, a cheeky grin on its face.

  “Jack! Now’s not the time to admire tattoos!”

  “Look. It’s the same as Ben’s.”

  She moved up next to him and grabbed his hand. “So?”

  “So, he’s SAS. Ben said only SAS have that tattoo.”

  The man groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. Both Dee and Jack took a couple of steps back. The man groaned again and muttered something. Dee leant down next to him.

  “Help me…please.”

  Dee reached up and grasped his hand. “Hang on. I’ll get you free.” She turned to the others. “Jack. Yalonda. Help me get these people released. They’re alive.”

  She looked around for Boss. He was standing by a large window that took up half the opposite wall.

  Boss tried the wheel on the door next to the window and groaned. “We’re locked in.”

  “See anything?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing much. A computer, desk, some funny green plastic suits.”

  “Okay. Come and help us free these people.”

  Boss joined the rest of the Renegades in freeing the prisoners. Next to each prisoner, bolted to the wall, was a locking pin. It was a simple matter of lifting it free and swinging the clasp open.

  Dee swung the metal frame off Tattoo. He swayed on his feet. Dee held him up and eased him to the floor. “I got you.”

  Tattoo smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  Pulling out the first aid kit from her pack, she redressed the bloody bandage on his leg. Finishing up, Dee glanced around. Jack, Yalonda and Boss were releasing the other prisoners and helping them down to the floor. Max followed Jack around, licking each of the prisoners, his tail wagging in excitement.

  “What about the middle one?” Boss questioned.

  A tinny voice crackled from hidden speakers, the sound jolting Dee from answering Boss. “What are you doing! Those are my subjects. Guards! Where are my guards!”

  The speakers hissed and crackled before falling silent.

  “Who the hell are you?” screamed Dee. She spun around, trying to find the source of the voice. High above them, wedged in a corner, Dee saw a red light blinking.

  We’re being watched.

  Dee grimaced and looked at the other Renegades. “Boss. Cover the others. Jack, Yalonda. Stand back!”

  She flicked off her safety and squeezed the trigger of her carbine, peppering the window to the next room with lead. The bullets slammed into the glass, but it didn’t shatter. Instead, craters pockmarked the window. Cursing, she reversed her rifle and slammed the butt into the glass, over and over. It cracked in the corners but held firm, refusing to break.

  Yalonda and Jack joined her. Yalonda walloped the glass with her hatchets. “In the corners!” she yelled. “That’s where it’s weakest!”

  First a small crack appeared, splitting from corner to corner. Then a spider web formed, and with one last bash the glass shattered, showering tiny fragments onto the floor.

  Dee grinned and leapt through the now-open window. “Jack, what’s the code?”

  “NZLV-8675309.”

  The locks clicked open and the door swung free. Dee rushed in to help Jack with Tattoo. He was on his feet now, but unsteady. All around her, the other subjects were gradually coming to. Most could only sit up, but some of the Maori warriors were gingerly trying to stand up.

  The high-pitched wail of the white-skinned Variants reverberated through the room. Several of the subjects clamped their hands over their ears and screamed in agony.

  Dee caught Tattoo’s eye. “C
an you walk? We need to go.”

  “I’ll try. I’ll die on my feet, not on my knees.”

  She grinned and handed him her Glock. “You’ll need this then.”

  — 23 —

  Derek took one last look around the abattoir. He methodically checked the building for any guards, human or otherwise. Satisfied he was alone, he clicked on his flashlight and walked into the tunnel.

  After a lot of thought, this was the best plan Derek come up with.

  Kill the guards.

  Destroy the security room.

  Rescue Sophie.

  Kill the lady in white.

  Derek had caught glimpses of the security room with its banks of screens showing the camera feeds from all over the sprawling complex. Every time he had assisted Dr Marks, he had sneaked a peek.

  He shivered at the thought of her. She was wild and power-crazed, motivated by a sick sense that she was helping mankind by experimenting on humans and Variants alike. In only a few months, she had single-handedly created the moles, beetles and weta Variants. But the worst were the white-skinned creatures. Completely obedient to her, they dominated all the other beasts with superior strength and speed. Not to mention intelligence. Only Abezi did they fear.

  He hadn’t thought about them too much, and hoped they’d ignore him like they normally did. Plus, he knew of a maintenance staircase tucked away.

  Derek paused and strained his ears for any unusual sounds. The cavern where all the lab vehicles were parked was spread out in front of him. Crouching behind a rock, he listened for another few minutes. All remained silent. Slowly he edged forwards, wary of cameras. Metre by metre he crept, ducking between cars, trucks and golf carts.

  Derek tightened the straps on his borrowed pack and looked over the rifle once more. The weapon felt strange in his hands. His late wife had hated guns and never allowed them in the house. He located the safety switch and clicked it into the fire position. Taking a deep breath, he darted from the shadows and sprinted for the airlock door. Opening it, he dashed the last few metres to the security area.

  The two guards stared at him, mouths agape, as he burst into the room, rifle held up against his shoulder. Derek shot the nearest one in the chest, then swivelled around. Guard Two dived to the floor and rolled behind a desk. Derek pulled the trigger. Bullets slammed into the wooden top, flicking shards of timber into the air. His heart hammered against his ribcage as he stepped forwards. Movement flashed from behind the desk and a stinging pain shot up Derek’s leg. He gasped. A knife stuck out of his calf, seemingly buried several inches in. Screaming, Derek lunged forwards. Guard Two wriggled under the desk and kicked at him as he fell to the floor.

  Derek rolled onto his side and fired. Guard Two’s head snapped back as blood and brains painted the timber behind him.

  Derek sat up and shuffled back. The whole scuffle had lasted less than a minute, but he was gasping for breath. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, making his muscles twitch.

  He stared down at the rifle in his shaking hands. He clenched his hands into a fist and let out a breath. Gasping, he pulled the knife free and, using one of the dead guard’s shirt sleeves, wrapped his wound. Flexing his leg, he tested putting weight on it. Thankfully he could still walk.

  Stay focused. For Sophie.

  Derek stared at the camera feeds, searching out the room where Dr Marks kept his precious daughter. He watched the image for a long time, partly from fear of what he had to do next, and partly from the fear that had gnawed at him since the outbreak.

  What if he couldn’t do enough to save her?

  He growled at the image of Sophie and the other subjects. Derek raised his rifle above his head and smashed the screen that held the image. The anger in him flooded out. All that rage. All that loathing. All that frustration. Released in a tsunami of destruction.

  Derek smashed every screen he could see. He threw keyboards across the room, shattering them into shards of plastic and wire. He ripped out wires and kicked in motherboards. He threw the chairs into the banks of the monitors. Sparks jumped out like fireworks, and tendrils of smoke twisted in eddies from the destroyed computer equipment.

  Derek stood panting, surveying the damage. Slamming the door behind him, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and stalked down the corridor.

  As he made his way to where Dr Marks kept Sophie, he regained control of his temper and refocused on the task at hand. He still couldn’t think of what to do after he had released his daughter. The lab complex was vast and full of her creations. Derek was banking everything on the fact that they knew him as one of them. A collaborator. He just hoped they didn’t notice the fact that he was now armed.

  The lab remained quiet as he walked down the long corridor and into the maintenance stairwell. He glanced up at the twisting narrow stairs and grimaced. It was a long climb to the third floor. Not for the first time, he wondered why they hadn’t installed elevators.

  As he set off, the muffled rat-a-tat of gunfire bounced around the stairwell. Derek frowned and paused. He cocked his head to one side, straining to hear anything further. In his haste to initiate his rescue of Sophie, he had completely forgotten about the soldiers. Grunting at his injury, he sprinted up the remaining stairs and burst through the door.

  His eyes widened at the sight of the corridor full of white Variants. The wetas were bustling through the throng, mandibles clicking together, gobbets of saliva dripping to the ground. Derek cringed, every fibre in his body repulsed at the sight of the wetas.

  Desperate, he scanned the passage for the door that led to Sophie. He could only just make out the top of the rubber seal. The white Variants milled around like they were awaiting instructions.

  Derek smiled. Yes, they were ferocious, but only acted on her instructions. He said a silent prayer and inched forwards, putting one foot in front of the other and keeping his arms by his sides. The white Variants turned and watched him approach. Several sniffed the air but stayed back. Derek took another few steps. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and ran into his eyes, blurring his vision. The Variants parted, showing him the door.

  When he reached it, he peeked in the small window. His heart fluttered at the sight of Sophie’s sarcophagus. He gritted his teeth and punched in the code. The Variants shrieked as he burst through the door, slamming it behind him.

  First, he checked the computer display. Sophie’s vital signs were normal. He brushed the condensation off the window and peered at his little angel. Sophie. Meaning wise.

  I’m sorry, Sophie. Daddy wasn’t wise. But it was all for you.

  Searching for a way to release his daughter, Derek finally looked around the rest of the room. He took a step back at the empty slots along the walls. At the shattered glass on the floor and at the open doorway.

  What the hell had happened in here?

  Derek pressed the touch screen, scrolling through until he found the release button. Grinning at the hiss and click the sarcophagus made, he yanked open the lid and pulled Sophie into his embrace. Tears coursed down his cheeks. He had waited seven long months to hold his daughter again. He’d had a hand in the deaths of hundreds. Protected the beasts as they devoured what was left of the population. He choked back a sob. Just feeling her skin pressed against his flooded his mind with myriad memories. Of playing tea parties. Of ice cream dribbling down the cone and over her hand. Of reading stories at bedtime. Of trips to the coast to comb the beach after a storm.

  Derek yanked the EPG wires off her head and chest. He gently removed the IV drips from her wrists and lifted her away from the sarcophagus.

  The door beeped and hissed open. Derek looked up, straight into the eyes of Dr Marks. He grasped Sophie tighter, and flicked his eyes at the white Variants snarling behind her.

  Dr Wilson stuck his ratty face in the doorway and smirked. “Derek. You’ve been a naughty boy, haven’t you? Put Sophie down and we’ll have a little chat.”

  “Piss off! You’re not going to hurt her. I know wh
at you did to the others.”

  Derek shifted Sophie, wrapping her legs around his waist, and back-pedalled towards the open control room door.

  “Stop!” Marks said.

  He shook his head.

  “Where are you going to go?” She gestured at the Variants. “You’re surrounded. My children patrol every floor.”

  Derek cast his eyes back to the shattered glass and empty slots. “What about them?”

  “They’ll be recaptured momentarily. It’s no concern of yours. Now put the girl back in the pod and step away.”

  Derek heard glass crunch under his feet. He risked a peek down and spotted the gas valve from the pipe that fed the pod. He looked back at Wilson and the white lady. “Burn in hell!”

  Adrenaline flooded his system, flowing into his muscles. Derek growled and kicked the valve off the pipe, flooding the room in cold gas. He smiled at the smell. Pivoting, he sprinted from the room, reached into his pocket, flicked his zippo lighter and tossed it behind him.

  The exploding gas threw him and Sophie forwards through the door. Derek cradled Sophie’s head as they slammed to the floor. The air rushed from his lungs. He desperately kicked at the door, closing it.

  Shrieks and howls buzzed in his brain. Grimacing from the pain in his leg, he scrambled up and dashed into the workroom beyond.

  — 24 —

  Derek clutched Sophie to his chest and ran as fast as he could through the workroom. An assortment of laboratory equipment was strewn about, most of which was incomprehensible to him. Sophie clung to him now, her face buried in his neck. It felt good to have her warm breath blowing over his skin again. He just wished it were under better circumstances, more peaceful ones. He choked back a sob, thinking of how he had failed to keep her safe. There had just been too many of them, and he was no soldier. He had done what he’d needed to do to keep himself and his daughter alive.