All along the street running parallel to the museum, delivery trucks, passenger cars, and SUVs were frozen, a snapshot of rush-hour traffic that would never move again. The horned heads of Skulls lurked between the vehicles. The skeletal plates protruding from their shoulder blades were silhouetted against the night sky like the fins of sharks. At the north end of the dam, a line of armored personnel carriers and two tanks sat vacant and unmoving. Meredith noticed a crater in the street not far from the military vehicles along with the charred-out husks of a few civilian vehicles. A sideways semi obscured her view of the south end.
She remained motionless for almost a minute, waiting to see if any of the Skulls had noticed her. At last she waved for Andris to join her. He sprinted, staying low and quiet.
After stealing a glance at the street, he ducked back behind the bushes. “Seems there are plenty of the ugly bastards here, huh?”
Meredith managed a nod and then pointed toward their next goal. A double-decker bus sat near the unloading zone of the museum. Advertisements emblazoned its side, promising a chance to see all the city’s sights.
“Not much I want to see in Boston anymore,” Andris said.
“There’s one more sight I want to see, and it’s up on that roof. C’mon.”
“You got a thing for buses, huh?” Andris said.
Meredith recalled her narrow escape from the Skulls back in Frederick, a story Andris had no doubt heard a number of times. A school bus had served her well then, but she had no intentions of going for a drive now. “Cover me.”
She sprinted along the side of the building, sticking close to the wall and staying low behind the bushes. When she reached the edge of the loading zone, there was nothing but a couple of concrete pillars, a few taxis, and a white-paneled van to hide behind. She flitted between the vehicles toward the tourist bus. Still, no Skull shrieks called into the night.
Thank God for the cover of darkness, she thought.
She said another prayer of gratitude when she found the doors of the tourist bus cranked wide open. She looked back toward where Andris waited. She couldn’t do much to cover him from the ground, but on the upper deck the seats were exposed to the open air with no roof or windows to obstruct tourists’ views of the cities.
“I’m going up top,” Meredith spoke low into her comm link. “Sit tight.”
“Copy,” Andris replied.
She hopped up the steps to the bus and played her rifle over the seats. A sour, rank smell assaulted her nostrils. Remnants of blood-soaked cloth lined the floor. A set of bones littered one of the seats. Long gashes in the vinyl revealed the stuffing in another. Her boots landed on spent bullet casings. Continuing along the aisle, she stepped over a corpse. Half the torso was chewed up, rendered nothing more than red pulp. Strange, bony growths jutted out from the masticated meat. The goddamned Oni Agent never stopped, not even when its host was deceased. She tried not to gag on her way to the spiral staircase leading to the upper deck.
Meredith took each step slowly. A cool wind whistled through the bus, providing a short respite from the putrid air. Her boot hit the next step, and the stair groaned underneath her weight. She froze. A shiver snuck down her spine. She stared up through the stairwell at the night sky. So close. She dared not to press her luck.
A face appeared. There was no mistaking the horns lining its head or the pronounced, pointed cheekbones. Its mouth opened as it prepared to let loose a howl that would call all nearby Skulls to Meredith’s position. She couldn’t let that happen. She lunged up the steps and sent a powerful uppercut into the creature’s jaw. Her knuckles screamed in agony at the impact, but she quickly clamped her fingers over the creature’s snapping mouth to keep its lips shut. The monster flailed against her grip. It raked the air with its claws. But this one was only four feet tall. She tried to ignore the fact that it had, at some point, been a child. The thing struggled and smacked at her, desperate to save its own life and end hers. She kept the Skull at arm’s length then twisted its neck hard until she heard a resounding snap.
Its limbs went still, and she lowered its body gently to the floor. More gnawed bones lay on the second deck among discarded backpacks. A few empty plastic water bottles sat between crumpled paper sacks. She spotted movement near the rear of the deck. Hitting the floor, she crept toward it, staying low. She could make out a pair of shoes moving about under the seat. Her heart jumped at the sight of them. Each time they moved, the little red lights on the soles flashed.
God, no, she thought. Not another kid.
The shoes flashed again, and the body they belonged to came into view. A pit formed in Meredith’s stomach. Bloodshot eyes stared at her as the Skull stood upright in the middle of the aisle. Spikes pierced the dirty T-shirt with a green cartoon character it wore, making it look like some twisted porcupine. Its nose crinkled into a snarl, and its cracked lips drew back.
Meredith squeezed the trigger of her rifle twice. The suppressed shots plunged through the creature’s face before it had a chance to make a sound. She felt sick to her stomach when the body dropped to the floor and lay still. She reminded herself it was no longer human. It was a monster. A bloodthirsty monster that would’ve killed her.
She kept her eyes on the creature as she made her way toward the rear of the bus. Shouldering her rifle, she slowly peeked over the small safety rail lining the open-air deck. The spot provided her a perfect view of the bushes along the side of the museum.
“Clear,” Meredith said, watching the Skulls nearest to Andris through her scope. She kept her sights on him as he skirted the building. He stopped to catch his breath and get his bearings behind a taxi and then sprinted the rest of the way to the bus. A Skull turned to look at him, attracted by the movement. Meredith brought it down with three quiet shots. Another Skull turned to investigate the thud its dead brother made when it hit the ground. But the creature didn’t give the fresh corpse a second glance and soon moved on.
Renee’s voice crackled over the comm link. “Meredith, Andris. Where are you?”
“We’re on a bus, about ready to start climbing up,” Meredith reported.
“We don’t have much time. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes before Alpha reaches the Science Park station.”
“Copy,” Meredith said. She leapt from the second deck of the bus to the roof of the loading dock. She kept her legs limber and rolled when she hit it. Andris followed quickly after. They both gazed up at the top of the museum.
“There’s no way we can climb that from the outside and reach the top in time,” Andris said. “Too slow.”
“Agreed.” Meredith trudged across the flat roof toward one of the windows in the central tower. An enormous atrium lay beyond the glass. She could see a replica of the Apollo capsule on the ground floor. Satellites were suspended from the ceiling. A large Tyrannosaurus rex was barely visible within one of the display rooms connected to this wing of the museum.
“Ah, fuck,” Andris muttered. He glanced up at the exterior of the tower then back inside. “I suppose we don’t have a choice though, do we?”
“No,” Meredith said, pointing toward a stairwell on the far side of the atrium. She matched it up to a map of the museum on her smartwatch. “That’s the quickest way up.”
“Then I guess we got to do it.”
Meredith nodded, understanding Andris’s hesitation completely. All along the ground floor of the museum, between the glass display cases, dozens of Skulls meandered, sniffing the air, their eyes darting about the expansive room. She reconsidered whether they needed to go through here or not.
But then she thought of Dom. If she and Andris failed, if they did nothing to help the team, they might as well condemn Dom and the rest of Alpha to death. She took a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”
-18-
Dom’s lungs burned. He was quickly using up his last energy reserves running through these tunnels. The route from the Charles/MGH station to the Science Park was more of a loop than a straight shot, which mad
e their trip that much longer. But Dom didn’t mind a long run if it kept his team and Connor hidden from the Skulls. They rounded a long bend in the tracks.
“Whoa, slow up!” Dom called.
Ahead, a train had evidently derailed. Dom guessed it had been coming around the curve too fast. Piles of stone and rubble lined the tracks where it had ground into the walls during the crash.
“The goddamned thing is blocking the way!” Terrence said.
“I want all eyes open,” Dom said. “Looks like we’ve got to go through.”
“I hate public transit,” Jenna said in a meager attempt to break the tension.
Miguel strode beside her. His rifle was pointed at a gaping door in the lead train car. “If that train crashed, I just want to know where all the people are.”
“I’d be careful what you wish for.” Glenn, following Miguel, was taking his turn carrying Connor. “Keep your eyes closed,” Glenn whispered to the boy.
“But the Captain said—”
“Don’t you worry about the Captain,” Glenn replied.
The boy whimpered and followed the instructions, nestling his face into the crook of Glenn’s neck.
The group climbed through the open emergency exit. The entire car was shifted at an almost forty-five-degree angle, making it hard for them to keep their balance.
Dom surveyed the train car with his rifle at the ready. Blood stained the fabric benches along the sides of the cars. Scattered remnants of clothes, purses, and backpacks lay strewn about. A draft breezed in through the broken windows. It fluttered the crumpled papers littering the car. Glass crunched underfoot as Miguel led the group forward. A relentless odor hung in the air, somewhere between mustiness and death.
“All right,” Jenna said, “I’m with Miguel. I really want to know where all the people went.”
Dom grabbed a pole stretching from the ceiling to the tilted floor. He used it to steady himself and stepped over a pile of refuse cluttered around one of the car’s automated sliding doors. He wanted to know the answer to that question as much as the others, but he feared they’d find out soon enough. “Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”
The group continued through the train car. Jenna reached the doors between the first car and the second. Blood streaks obscured their view into the next car. Exhaling audibly, Jenna wiped the dried blood with one of her gloved hands and then peered through.
“Don’t see anyone in there,” she reported.
Miguel sidled up next to her, and they dug their fingers into the rubber seal between the doors. Grunting, they peeled the door back. It squealed in protest but eventually gave way. The Hunters shouldered their weapons, waiting to see if the noise would draw any waiting monsters. Anticipation coursed through Dom, setting his nerves afire with electricity.
When nothing reared its head and howled at them, Dom stepped forward.
They wound their way between the benches and seats of the second car. It had fared the apocalypse no better than the first. Evidence of a struggle was everywhere. Long scratches dug into the plastic and fabric seats and benches. More dried splatters and stains. This time, Dom spotted scattered bones throughout the car. Teeth marks notched their surfaces; most were split open, the marrow sucked dry. Strings of flesh hung off what once used to be a ribcage.
Dom shuddered, wondering if that was what would’ve become of his team if they’d waited a moment longer back at the last T station. They pushed past the debris toward the third car. Again, they pried the doors open. The third and fourth cars were no different than the first, filled with little tokens proving humanity had once been here but had lost its fight to survive.
Jenna approached the last set of doors. Some dark liquid covered the glass, but this time it was from the other side. There was no way to see into the last car. “Captain?”
“Let me see,” Dom said, moving past Miguel and Jenna. He pressed an ear against the cool glass, and his stomach twisted into a painful knot. He recognized the grunts, the raspy breathing, and clicking of claws against metal. “Skulls.”
“Double back and try another way outside?” Miguel asked.
“Don’t think that’ll work,” Terrence said, peering out a window of the car. “Looks like the tunnel’s completely blocked.”
Dom nodded and adjusted his grip on his rifle. “From what I saw, he’s right. We’ve got to go through.” He reached into one of his tac vest pockets for a block of plastic explosive. He molded a small piece of C4. “I don’t want anyone to manually open these doors. We have no idea how many creatures are behind them, and the last thing I want is for someone to be snagged before we can open fire.” Pressing the C4 into place, he pointed at Glenn and Connor. “Glenn, take the boy to a safe distance and set him down. We’re going to need all guns hot for this one. Everyone, take firing positions in the next car over. I want to get some distance between us and the Skulls.”
He waited for them to retreat to the third car, far out of the blast range. After setting the detonator, Dom sprinted after his team. He knelt next to Miguel and shouldered his SCAR-H.
The C4 exploded. Despite the relatively small charge, the blast resonated in the cramped cars. Dom didn’t let his ringing ears distract him from keeping his barrel aimed at the door to the fifth car. A cloud of smoke and dust plumed from the busted doors. Nothing moved for a moment.
The stillness was broken when a Skull pounced from the smoke cloud. Its eyes locked immediately on Dom and Miguel. Its ropy muscles coiled underneath bony plates, and it started to charge.
Both Miguel and Dom’s rifles chattered, taking the beast down with ease. But as the dust settled, more bloodshot eyes and gaunt, skeletal faces appeared. The creatures shoved each other, jostling to get through. They clogged the entrance to the fifth car with their selfish hunger, trying to be the first to sink their teeth into fresh prey.
Skull after Skull fell to the bullets spewing from Alpha team. Several creatures managed to slink through the carnage and tried their luck at navigating the fourth car. The Hunters’ persistent salvos kept them at bay. Bone-riddled corpses piled up along the third car. Blood sloshed on the floor and splashed against the seats. Bullet casings pinged from the Hunters’ rifles and bounced off the metal walls.
Dom kept his jaw clenched and his eyes down the sights. Each Skull that they brought down bolstered his confidence. They could do this. They could take these monsters out in no time. Another three Skulls pushed past their dead brethren and charged down the aisle of the fourth car. But while the Hunters concentrated their fire on those three, another monster had slipped through unnoticed.
It reared back now. Cracks sizzled in its chest, and dark liquid drizzled out of tears in its throat. Its lower jaw was completely gone. Nothing but a rattling hole under a few rotten teeth remained. Dom recognized what that meant immediately. “Drooler!”
A geyser of dark liquid shot from the creature’s mouth. Dom and Miguel ducked. The spray shot above where their heads had been a moment ago. The liquid splashed against a car window, and droplets bounced off, landing on Dom’s fatigues. The fabric sizzled as the acid ate through it.
With the Hunters taken off guard, the Drooler leapt toward the third car. It clung to the open doors, its beady pupils darting between the Hunters. Then its bloodshot eyes went wide and locked on Connor’s huddled form.
Dom readjusted his aim and squeezed off a burst of fire. The bullets slammed into the creature, but the Drooler’s spray had already started. Another shot of acid careened across the car, headed straight toward Connor.
“No!” Terrence yelled, jumping between the spray and the boy. He picked up the child, turning his back to the acid and trying to leap out of the way. But the spray hit his back. He screamed and thrashed.
Jenna took her water bottle out and splashed it over Terrence. Dom could hear the sizzle of the Hunter’s flesh. He couldn’t stand to see one of his men in so much pain. He shoved the Drooler’s corpse back into the fourth car and fired on the hord
e of agitated Skulls. Hot rounds cut into skeletal plates; demonic shrieks filled the car. Terrence’s agonized yells echoed through the din. One of the Skulls shot forward, making it past the wall of gunfire. It smashed into Dom’s rifle and knocked the weapon from his hand. Dom grabbed the creature’s wrists to stop the slashing claws from reaching his flesh. Spittle flew from between the monster’s fanged teeth.
Dom let out a primal yell and slammed the creature into a window. Its head broke through the glass. He kicked the beast’s chest. The shards of glass gave way to the monster’s bony armor. In one fluid motion, Dom retrieved his knife from his thigh sheath and brought it up. The blade arced through the air, slicing down toward the monster’s fleshy neck. But a kick from the Skull snapped Dom’s wrist back. The knife flew from his grip, and the Skull lunged. One of its claws lashed out. The bony talons cut into Dom’s tac vest, but the armor plates in his vest kept the claws from going deeper. The Skull head-butted Dom’s abdomen and made him double over. It leapt onto Dom, and its head shot down, its mouth open to grab a chunk of his neck.
But Dom used the creature’s own tactics against it. He shot up, and his helmet slammed against the creature’s jaw. Its teeth cracked. The monster stumbled backward. Dom scooped up his knife and then plunged it through one of the thing’s eyes. It burst, but still he drove the blade deeper until at last it stopped struggling. Dom retrieved his rifle and played it over another Skull going after Miguel. The Hunter twisted his prosthetic, revealing the hidden knife, and stabbed it through the Skull’s nasal cavity with a sickening crunch. Miguel pulled back, wiped his blade off on a nearby seat, and retracted the knife. The Skull’s body slumped, crashing against another corpse.
Everything was quiet. No more demonic cries, no more gunfire. The battle was over. Dom panted, catching his breath, and surveyed the others, their faces and fatigues covered by blood and gore.
“The boy?” Dom managed between gasps, looking at Jenna.
“He’s okay,” Jenna said. “At least physically.”
The Tide: Salvage Page 13