Winter Cove

by Skye Knizley

  ***

  Main Street Winter Cove was still as deserted as it had been twelve hours before. Pristine white snow broken only by the prints of staggering infected covered everything and the street lights swayed and flickered in the wind.

  “Where are they? Cheech said they were roaming everywhere,” Scales said.

  Rylee shivered in her coat. “Who cares? Let’s just get somewhere warm, the girls are freezing solid, here.”

  A few blocks away they found an abandoned 4X4, key in the ignition, lights on and radio singing Christmas carols into the eternal night. It was stopped at a flashing red street light and surrounded by frozen blood. River climbed inside and twisted the key. The engine caught on the third try.

  “Hop in,” she said.

  Rylee made a face, but joined her in the front while Scales piled into the back.

  “Stealing a man’s car is almost as bad as stealing a dead man’s porn. Some things are sacred,” Rylee groused.

  “I don’t think he’s coming back for it, honey. And we could use the wheels,” River replied.

  Rylee blew on her fingers and looked at River. Her eyes widened and she shrank back against her door.

  “I think you could be wrong about that!”

  River turned in time to see an infected outside. It swung a tire-iron at the window, which shattered under the impact and covered River in glass. She pressed the gas and spun the wheel away from the creature. The snow was so deep that the tires did nothing but spin. The truck slipped sideways and bumped into the infected, which hissed in annoyance and swung its tire iron again. The attack was deflected by the door frame and River tried again, this time in reverse. The tires caught and the vehicle lumbered backward, almost crushing the infected in the process. It fell to the snow and River changed gears. The truck surged forward and ran over the zombie’s head, then she swerved away from the intersection and headed back to the hospital.

  ***

  Though the clock said the sun should be full up, it was still darker than the most stygian night in history. The lights of the hospital glowed like a beacon at the end of Main Street and River guided the borrowed 4x4 toward it at an unsafe speed. It no longer mattered if the truck slid, there was no one to hit. No one living, anyway. The closer they got to the hospital the more infected they encountered. Almost a dozen were crushed beneath its oversized wheels and 70s bulk before they reached the emergency entrance where Dustin had been so brutally murdered. It felt like a lifetime ago.

  Lights shone through the broken doors and shattered emergency gate, illuminating the dozens of infected guarding the entrance. They raised arms to shield themselves from the truck’s lights and began to stumble forward, eager for a meal.

  River slowed the truck and watched them.

  “Anyone got any bright ideas?”

  Scales rubbed the stubble growing on his chin. “We could take them out, they aren’t smart and we have the firepower.”

  “It will be loud and attract attention,” Rylee said. “Maybe we can sneak around?”

  “That will take time,” River said.

  She chewed her lip and watched the infected. They were moving faster, like they had a purpose. The more they moved the less they looked like movie creatures. These were fast, soulless and evil. Their eyes glittered with intent that was plain, even at a distance.

  “Hold onto something,” she said.

  She slipped the transmission into low gear and started forward. The crawler gears were slower but gave the truck a sort of ponderous inevitability, a sense that it wasn’t going to stop for anything. River had always loved that about these old trucks.

  Most of the infected in the way fell beneath the wheels and were crushed or cast aside by the heavy steel chassis. Others, however, were able to grab the running boards or plow frame and pull themselves aboard. River punched one trying to bite her through the broken window, Rylee shot another through her window. The shotgun’s report was deafening in the small space, but it did its job. The infected’s torso exploded outward and the creature fell back into the snow.

  The one River punched was unwilling to let go. It held onto her throat while its legs dragged in the snow. In a blink, the amulet began to glow. The liquid metal poured out and down her skin, protecting her from the claws that threatened to tear out her throat.

  With her skin protected, she grabbed the infected by the head and slammed it face-first into the window frame. It let go for just long enough and she pushed it away. It fell to the snow and was crushed beneath the wheels.

  “This is a really bad idea, Riv,” Rylee said.

  “I concur,” Scales said from the back.

  River pressed the accelerator harder and pushed up through the gears. “Command decision.”

  Rylee leaned back in her seat. “Can we vote on it?”

  “This isn’t a democracy!”

  She pointed the truck at the shattered hospital doors and braced herself. It crashed through what was left of the emergency gate and came to rest against the wall, more or less still intact.

  “That was much more subtle than just shooting them all, nice work,” Rylee said, her voice choked.

  River’s armor flowed away, leaving her skin feeling like it was crawling with ants. “We’re here aren’t we? Stop complaining. Scales, are you good?”

  Scales coughed and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m here. The elevator is−”

  “Down the hall and to the left, I remember.”

  The truck’s demise had done what she wanted. Its bulk blocked the doors, preventing the infected from entering behind them. With any luck they would be able to use it to get away when the job was done. If they came back at all.

  The hospital was much as they’d left it. Empty corridors, empty rooms and the scents of death mingled with antiseptic. River hurried down the main corridor, her boot heels ringing on the tiles. She slowed at the end of the main corridor and held up a hand. The scent of decay was growing stronger. She crept up to the intersection and glanced around. Four of the larger infected stood in front of the doors, their hooded eyes filled with evil intelligence. River scooted back and held up four fingers. Scales nodded and indicated with signals that he would draw them off so Rylee and River could ambush them. River agreed and took up station with Rylee out of sight behind a soda machine.

  Scales got a running start and turned the corner, away from the infected. As expected, the four guards gave chase, but were far faster than their compatriots. Their movements were almost human.

  River and Rylee stepped out behind them and opened fire while Scales ducked out of sight down another corridor. The four infected danced and jerked within the bullet storm and fell without so much as a grunt of pain. River grinned at Rylee and ejected the spent magazine from her weapon. She was slotting a fresh one when Scales screamed and came back around the corner at full speed.

  “I think we miscounted! Run!” he yelled as he passed.

  River’s gaze followed him, then looked back in the direction he’d come from. Infected, dozens of them, were lumbering down the hall, arms outstretched, jaws and teeth gnashing in hunger. She unclipped one of the grenades she’d packed and gauged the distance between them and the infected. The grenade’s spoon pinged away under her thumb and she rolled it into the crowd.

  Rylee stared at her. “Was that a? Did you just−”

  River grabbed her and dove back behind the soda machine, the seconds ticking off in her head. She felt the uncomfortable sensation of the armor flowing over her skin and she covered Rylee with her body.

  The grenade blast was devastating in the small space. Chunks of bloody meat that had once been infected zombies flew in all directions while the pressure wave collapsed the ceiling and sent the soda machine spinning away, narrowly missing River’s legs.

  She rolled off of Rylee and patted her face with her bare hand. “Baby,
are you okay?”

  Rylee opened one eye. “What? Are we still alive?”

  River laughed. “Yeah, we’re still alive. How do you feel?”

  Rylee sat up against the wall and counted on her fingers. “I’ve been blown up, crashed in a helicopter, buried alive, almost eaten by zombies and my last meal was burned bread. How do I feel? I want Calgon to take me the fuck away, that’s how I feel.”

  Scales entered from the side corridor. “So, you’re fine. That was a stupid risk, Hunter.”

  River shrugged and helped Rylee stand. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  She nodded in the direction of the infected. “Most of them are dead and the ones that aren’t are buried under rubble. Call the elevator, let’s get this done.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The elevator doors opened onto a dark corridor made of metal walls and grey-tiled floor. Damaged fluorescent fixtures dangled from the ceiling and blood spattered the walls. Dead insects, millions of them, littered the floor, glittering in the glow of their lights. River stirred them with her boot.

  “Baby parasites.”

  Scales knelt beside her. “This must be the place, where it all started. Why are they dead?”

  “Most insects have a limited lifespan, from a few days to a few weeks. These probably died of natural causes and there have been no humans around to clean up the mess,” Rylee said.

  Scales looked at her. “Otherworldly, zombie-creating insects died of natural causes?”

  Rylee shrugged. “Makes as much sense as anything else I’ve seen since I got here.”

  River walked deeper into the corridor, her eyes on the floor. “A lot of the bodies are crushed into the tiles. Something, a lot of somethings, came through here.”

  “Infected?” Scales asked.

  “How should I know?”

  The corridor continued ahead to an intersection. There was blood on the wall and a pair of broken glasses on the floor. In one direction were doors leading to the laundry, furnace and generators, while in the other direction was a single steel door that blocked the whole corridor. Written across it in military stencil were the words ‘B12 Cleared Personnel Only’.

  Beside the door was a new-looking electrical panel with a keypad and digital readout that reminded River of Howard’s drawing. She pulled the paper she’d taken from him from her pocket and punched the numbers into the panel. After a pause, the panel clicked and the door sank into the floor. The corridor beyond slanted downward into uncertain darkness.

  “This place should have come with its own Vincent Price lookalike tour guide,” Rylee whispered. “I can just hear his laugh from the end of Thriller.”

  “You ain’t kidding,” Scales said.

  River started down the corridor, insects crushing beneath her boots. At the bottom was another security door and an open doorway into some sort of control room that was smashed beyond repair.

  The security door was even worse. Though it was two inches of plate steel with some kind of heavy metal core, something enormous had ripped holes in it like a child tearing tissue.

  River stepped over the torn metal and onto the metal catwalk on the other side. The catwalk ran around a hollow in the earth big enough for a passenger jet or yacht. In the center, attached to a bank of equipment and power cables was a round black pool. At least that’s what it looked like to river. It was surrounded by a wide stone frame covered in green and red runes that burned like those in the pyramid.

  “This looks like the room back at Obsidian, remember the dead guy and the hole in the ground?” Rylee asked.

  “That was the first attempt at opening a Doorway. Sentinel got it wrong and people died before it could be contained,” Scales said.

  River looked at him. “Were you there? Do you know how to shut this thing off?”

  Scales gave a lopsided smile. “I was just a kid living in Nebraska at the time. I only know what I read in the archives, security clearance has its privileges.”

  “I knew it couldn’t be that easy,” Rylee said.

  A staircase wound its way to the stone floor, which was cracked and pitted with age. The walls were scarred where drills and explosives were used to create the room sometime in the past.

  “I see you survived,” a voice said.

  It was the voice River associated with the boss, only now she knew who it was.

  “Come out, Richie,” she said.

  “Richie? No fucking way!” Rylee exclaimed.

  There was the sound of clapping and Richard stepped into view. He was clad in a black Sentynil uniform crawling with Overlord larvae.

  “Very good, River. I never gave you much credit in the brains department, I see I was wrong,” he said.

  “What the fuck, Richie?” Rylee yelled. “Your brother is dead, Jody is missing, turn this shit off and let’s go home!”

  River placed a hand on Rylee’s shoulder. “This was his plan all along, Rye, though I suspect getting shot wasn’t part of it. Who got you? Was it Howard?”

  Richard’s face darkened. “That old fool! He caught me off-guard, he sees far too much.”

  River paced forward, weapon at her side. “What I don’t get is, why us? Why drag your brother and friends into this?”

  “I needed you. One of you, anyway. I knew one of you was a Descendent and could operate the technology. I’d hoped it would be Dusty or Jody, someone easy to control,” Richard said. “I never imagined it would be you.”

  River kept walking. “How did you know it was one of us?”

  Richard held up a hand. “Enough monologuing, River. Soon, the Lord of the Flies will return and feast upon your soul. When he does I will be elevated, reborn!”

  Scales raised his weapon. “You sent us to die. I’m going to kill you, whoever you are.”

  River dove aside just as Scales squeezed the trigger. Bullets passed through where she’d been standing mere moments before and peppered Richard, who staggered under the attack, but didn’t fall. When the smoke cleared, River could see the same eldritch armor that protected her covering his skin.

  Richard shrugged out of his shirt and tapped his breastplate. “A gift from the Master.”

  River climbed to her feet, her own weapon aimed at his head. “Is your face bulletproof? It’s ugly enough.”

  She squeezed the trigger. Through the combat sight she watched the armor rise up his neck and cover his face just in time to deflect the bullets. With his face covered, gone was the Richie she thought she knew. He took on a demonic visage covered in spikes and chains with eyes that glowed red.

  “Nice try, River, but you can’t hurt me. Accept your fate and I will let Rylee live,” Richard said. His voice now held the strange accent River had heard back at the air base.

  River tossed her M4 aside and drew her knife. “Rylee, you and Scales find a way to close the door. I’ll handle tall dark and disgusting here.”

  She charged, knife held low in her armored left hand. A spiked chain sprouted from Richard’s hand and he attacked, aiming for her legs. River jumped over his attack and lashed out with both feet. It was like kicking titanium, but the impact was enough to stagger Richard and give River an opening. She spun and slashed with her blade, trying to find a chink in his armor.

  Richard recovered from her initial attack and backhanded her with a spiked fist that cut her cheek open and left stars dancing behind her eyes. She grit her teeth against the pain and tried again feinting to his right then slashing across his abdomen. It was a blow that would have killed a normal man, yet it was turned aside by the armor.

  “You can’t hurt me, River. My control is absolute. And I can very much hurt you,” he growled.

  He punched her twice in the bare right side of her chest, then used his chain to entangle her feet. River fell onto her back and dropped her knife, which tumbled away into the black Doorway.

&
nbsp; She expected to feel a killing blow any second. Instead, Richard strode away, his red gaze locked on Rylee. River was still climbing to her feet when Scales attacked Richard with his bare hands. The fight lasted only long enough for River to gather herself and attack. Scales was cast aside like a rag doll mere seconds after his attack and he fell to the ground, his neck broken.

  Rylee, now defenseless, continued to adjust controls and readouts, watching both Richard and the screens in front of her.

  “Get away from me, Richie!” she cried. “I can’t believe I thought you were a good guy!”

  “Dear Rylee, I am the good guy. I am trying to bring order to this planet, order and peace we so desperately need,” he said.

  Rylee stood her ground. “Yeah, under your Master, Lord of the Fleas. Whatever happened to democracy? One man, one vote? That’s the way to lead.”

  Richard kept walking in that confident stride of psychopath serial killers everywhere. “I will be that man. I will have the vote.”

  River kicked him in the back with her armored leg, making him cry out in pain. “You have a screwed up idea of good and evil, Richie. People like you are the reason I joined the corps.”

  Richard turned and River backhanded him so hard their armor sparked and hummed. He groaned and she could see that he had a dent under his left eye.

  “I didn’t want to kill you, I wanted the Master’s feast to be alive and kicking, as it were. But he will still enjoy it cold,” Richard intoned.

  His attack was more violent than before. Blades, spikes and whips sprouted from his arms, a different weapon with every attack. It was a flurry of attacks that left River bloodied and on the defensive. It was all she could do to keep him from killing her outright, he left no opening for her to riposte or get an attack in of her own. Before long, her heels were against the metal frame that surrounded the Doorway.

  “Riv, if I read this right, I can turn the Doorway off, but it will take me a few more seconds. You have to get clear!” Rylee yelled.

  River blocked another attack aimed at her unarmored side. “Just do it! The armor will protect me!”