Clickers II: The Next Wave

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Clickers II: The Next Wave Page 28

by J. F. Gonzalez


  The clouds parted, and the plane shot across the horizon.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Banks of the Potomac River

  Washington D.C.

  3:08 AM

  It was so big that it stuck out of the water, its red, barnacle-encrusted shell breaching the surface like a shark’s dorsal fin. Water streamed down its ridges, splashing into the river below. The hull of a boat, unmoored and destroyed by Hurricane Gary floated by. The massive creature seized the wreckage in one giant claw and crushed it to splinters. Then it continued on its way. Its pincers clacked together, and the sound carried across the land, audible a mile away.

  CLICK-CLICK…CLICK-CLICK…

  The giant Clicker’s smaller brethren fled in its path, and its masters, the Dark ones, kept their distance, watching the monster’s progress from afar. The creature pushed its bulk from the river and lumbered onto the shore. The muddy riverbank collapsed beneath its weight. The Clicker squealed in frustration and heaved itself onto land again. Its segmented legs sank into the storm-drenched earth, and the ground trembled with each step.

  Cautiously, the Dark Ones emerged from hiding and jabbed at it with their spears and tridents. With a roar that sounded like a herd of elephants, the Clicker swiped out with one massive claw, knocking several of them aside. The others danced out of range, also being careful not to get too near its pulsating tail; venom dripped from the bulbous appendage and splattered the ground.

  With much prodding and stabbing, they managed to alter its path and send the Clicker stomping off across the city.

  Its path would take it directly towards the Capitol—and the White House.

  * * *

  Peachbottom Nuclear Plant

  3:21 AM

  They sat and they waited. Livingston had positioned everyone with a weapon at various points around the room, guarding all entrances and exits. Jennifer and the other unarmed individuals sat in the center of the bunker. Jeremiah and his technicians worked feverishly, trying to ignore the sounds coming from outside the reinforced walls; wet sounds; screaming, shooting, tearing, ripping—clicking.

  With the air conditioning out, the temperature inside the room had crept steadily upward. Rick wiped the sweat from his eyes and readjusted his grip on the pistol. Tony tapped him on the shoulder, and Rick turned to him.

  “So we cool?”

  “Yeah,” Rick said, sticking out his hand. “Look, I’m sorry we doubted you. You’ve got to understand, I’ve been on the run so long, and I don’t know how to interact with people anymore.”

  “Why’d he want to kill you, anyway?”

  “Because of what I know; it’s a long story.”

  Tony shrugged. “No worries. Every man’s got his secrets.”

  “What about you, Tony? I asked you once before, but you still haven’t told me. Who are you, really?”

  Tony paused before answering. “I’m a deliveryman. Me and my associate, Vince, were making a delivery. We got caught in the storm and the Clickers ambushed us on a bridge. We went into the water. I came out. Vince didn’t.”

  “My condolences. I guess we’ve all lost people tonight.”

  Rick’s thoughts turned to Melissa. He wondered if she was okay, if she was even alive. He hoped her identity hadn’t been discovered by the government, that she wasn’t in danger of being assassinated by the same spooks that had tried to kill him earlier. Then he thought of his mother. In a strange way, he was glad she’d passed on before all of this. Strange, how things turned out. Yesterday he’d been at her deathbed. Now he was barricaded deep inside a nuclear power plant, making a desperate last stand against the very creatures that had separated him from his family in the first place. In between, he’d been raped, hunted, and chased by enemies on all sides.

  Jennifer stood up and walked over to Richard. Her superior had aged during this ordeal. She could see it etched in his face. He smiled at her reassuringly and Jennifer tried not to cry.

  “We’re going to make it,” he said.

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes, I really do. Livingston said help is on the way. They’ll get here in time. The Hurricane is gone so that won’t slow them down.”

  “Even if we do survive, what then?” Jennifer asked. “What about our loved ones? While we’re in here, what do you think is happening to them? They were at ground zero, Richard. What’s the point of surviving if it’s only to bury them?”

  Richard put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. His voice was soft, but stern. “Don’t talk that way. Don’t you dare. I know Susan, and I know she’d want me to keep on fighting. Your parents would want the same. Remember when we were trapped in the aquarium, right before Livingston arrived to save us? I figured we were done for. Thought that was it; we were dead. But we weren’t. You just have to rely on the human spirit. We’re a tenacious race. Humanity always prevails.”

  Wiping away a tear, Jennifer leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek. Richard blushed.

  “Susan is a very lucky woman, Richard.”

  “And one day, you’re going to make someone a very lucky man, Jennifer.”

  She started to respond when the walls vibrated. Everyone in the room jumped, and Richard almost shot the door.

  “Steady,” Livingston ordered. “Maintain control.”

  Something was pounding on the walls and doors, trying to get inside.

  “I thought nothing could get down here!” Rick muttered. He checked the mag on his Sig Sauer; fully loaded.

  “Nothing should be able to get down here,” Jeremiah said, his eyes darting around the bunker. “But we’re dealing with the extraordinary here.”

  There was another loud pound on the wall, along with shuffling.

  Jeremiah sipped cold coffee from a cracked ceramic mug and sighed. “Well, I guess this is it.”

  “Bring it on you cocksuckers,” Tony shouted. “We got something for your ass.”

  “Enough,” Livingston yelled. “Keep silent, and stay ready.”

  “And then what?” Tony smirked.

  Livingston turned back to the door. “And then we live…or we die.”

  * * *

  The White House

  3:37 AM

  Ken White looked horrified. “I still can’t believe that you’re going to have members of the press executed. It’s madness...”

  “Got a problem with that, Mr. White?” President Tyler seemed like an entirely different man now. Gone was the youthful, clean-cut, wholesome American image that had wooed voters yearning for honest change in government. That image had been replaced by total insanity.

  White stammered. He was pale, his hair in a messy disarray from the late night and the long hours. “I just…what’s the purpose of suppressing information that might save people’s lives?”

  “The Lord is going to save people’s lives!” Tyler thundered, slamming the conference room table again with his fist. Everybody seated around the table jumped, startled at the sudden outburst. “The American people have to put all their faith and trust in the Lord! Not a bunch of atheist Darwin-polluted Godless scientists!”

  “But…what’s happening is…what they’re reporting on is really happening?” White stuttered.

  Tyler shot out of his chair. “When have you seen

  Dinosaurs roaming down Pennsylvania Avenue, Mr. White? Huh? Tell me!”

  From across the room, Secretary Barker was at the red phone giving orders to the military: “Um…Mr. President?”

  Tyler whirled around to face Barker. “What?”

  Barker could only look out the large triple-paned plate glass window that overlooked Pennsylvania Avenue and point outside.

  “Well, what the hell is it?” Tyler asked. He was growing frustrated.

  Before he knew it, Donald Miller was out of his chair with the others and standing at the windows overlooking Pennsylvania Avenue. Kathy Hayden gave a sharp gasp. “Oh my God!”

  Tyler joined them. “What are you gawking at?”

&
nbsp; Miller felt his faith shatter at what he saw.

  Fifty yards away from the White House along Pennsylvania Avenue, what could only be described as large reptilian creatures were making their way up the front lawn of the White House. They walked on their hind legs. One of them was carrying what looked like some kind of spear. Another clutched the handle of a large golden trident—the sharp end of which was impaled in a Secret Service agent’s chest.

  “My God, they’re real!” Ken White breathed.

  Through the howling wind of the storm they heard the sharp reports of automatic gunfire from government sharpshooters, who’d been ordered on the roof of the building before the storm hit. Some of the bullets found their mark, tearing through the creatures’ thick hides and dropping them. Scattered among the creatures were the Clickers, their claws clacking together, paying their reptilian masters no heed.

  And beyond them, in the distance, looming over the building across the street, something else moved.

  Something big; its shadow covered all.

  “Oh my God...”

  From somewhere nearby—inside the building— Miller thought he heard the sound of a man screaming.

  “They’re storming the White House!” White had his service weapon out and headed out of the conference room.

  ASecret Service agent was at President Tyler’s side in a flash. “We have to move you to a secure location, Mr. President.”

  But Tyler wasn’t paying attention. His attention was riveted to what was going on outside, on the lawn of the White House.

  Miller, too, found it hard to tear his gaze away.

  There were hundreds of the creatures. They were spread all across the White House lawn, crawling up the steps.

  It grew darker outside as whatever was moving across the street drew closer.

  The ground shook beneath its heavy tread. Miller could feel the floor vibrate beneath his feet.

  They heard the commotion of Secret Service agents in various parts of the building yelling at each other in frightened voices. There was the sound of more automatic gunfire, from another portion of the building. More screams of pain that were quickly cut off.

  Secret Service Agent Nate Walpow stepped back away from the window. “Oh my God, what is that thing? Look how big it is!”

  Secretary Barker’s face was white, pale as a ghost. “They’re like an army.”

  One Secret Service agent was trying to pull President Tyler away from the window. “Mr. President, we have to get you to a secure location now!”

  Somewhere within the building came the sound of breaking glass. Gunfire followed, accompanied by screams of agony.

  Tyler could only look shocked.

  Miller knew how he felt.

  It was all true. Everything the scientists said…it was all real.

  And if it was true…if the creatures outside really were a race previously thought extinct…if they were really what Colonel Livingston said about them in his classified report eleven years ago…

  God help them all.

  “Mr. President, I think we’d better do what Agent Smith advises,” Miller said softly.

  President Tyler turned to look at his closest advisor. It was hard to read the look on his face. “I send my VP out to Nebraska to our safe spot so he can maintain some semblance of order to our administration while God’s house is under attack, and the minute Satan’s minions storm His house you want to retreat?”

  Those words had a chilling affect on Miller. He felt an icy finger down his spine. Is he not seeing what’s going on outside? Hell, I didn’t believe them myself, but they’re here right in goddamn front of us and I can hear men in this building yelling and screaming in fright! Even if they are Satan’s minions, shouldn’t we do something about them?

  “We are not leaving!” President Tyler said, jabbing an index finger at Miller. “Do you hear me? We’re not backing down from Satan! God is testing our faith!”

  Secretary Barker was looking at the President with a look of horror. “Are you out of your mind? Look at what’s happening out there!”

  From below, the sound of carnage, gunfire, and more screams.

  Tyler’s voice rose. “I do see it, Barker! I see that Satan has clouded your vision! These things are the product of the Imp! Don’t you see that?”

  The sounds of carnage on the floor below them grew more frenzied. There was the sound of shattering glass, frenzied yells, and more gunfire. Somebody on the lower level of the White House started screaming, “Oh my God, Oh my God, ohmygodddddd!”

  “Fuck this; I’m getting the hell out of here.” Barker sprinted for the door.

  “Smith, shoot him!” Tyler barked.

  Special Agent Smith had drawn his weapon at the first sound of disturbance from outside. He looked panicked, confused. Miller could tell that Smith’s instincts were commanding him to secure order in the room, but President Tyler’s order ran contrary to that, tugging at his loyalty.

  Barker reached the door to the hallway.

  Tyler screamed at Smith, “I’m the Commander In Chief, goddamn it! Shoot him!”

  Agent Smith raised his weapon and fired.

  The shot hit Barker square in the center of his back. It pushed him out the door into the hallway, where he slid down the wall leaving a smear of blood.

  Tyler was still screaming orders. “Shut that fucking door!”

  Another gunshot blasted through the room and Special Agent Smith dropped like a stone. Kathy screamed.

  Ken White turned to the remaining people in the room—Special Agent Walpow, Kathy Hayden, Donald Miller, and President Tyler—his weapon drawn. “This fucked up shit is stopping right now!

  Special Agent Walpow drew his weapon and pointed it at White just as White drew a bead on him.

  The two men stood facing each other. Standoff.

  Miller’s heart was racing. His legs wanted to propel him out of the room and out of this mess, but he was afraid of being struck down himself or—even worse—of losing President Tyler’s respect. So he forced himself to stay rooted to the spot.

  “Drop your weapon, Walpow,” White said.

  “Walpow, I want you to shoot Mr. White!” Tyler screamed.

  “Walpow, I am your superior and I’m telling you right now to drop your weapon!”

  “I’m the Commander In Chief! God has called me to this position! You are in no position to be challenging God’s authority!” Tyler was yelling so loud, veins were bulging from his forehead.

  “Walpow, please listen to me!” White pleaded.

  The sounds of carnage continued and were joined by an even more sinister sound. To White, it sounded like the creatures were making their way up the rear stairway.

  Outside, there was the sound of concrete and steel hitting the ground as a building was crushed by the giant thing outside.

  A spark went off in Miller’s mind. “Wait a minute! We don’t need to do this. We can all get out of here. Isn’t there a panel hidden in this wall that contains a secret stairway that leads to the bunkers beneath the White House?”

  “Yes, there is,” White said, not switching his firing stance.

  Miller moved away from the window toward the interior wall. He started feeling along the wall. “We need to find it and get in there before whatever is happening downstairs finds its way up here.”

  “Miller,” President Tyler shouted, “you have to trust in the—”

  Donald Miller whirled to face him. “‘When you go to war against your enemies and see horses and chariots and an army greater than yours, do not be afraid of them, because the Lord, your God, who brought you out of Egypt, will be with you.’ That’s from Deuteronomy, Mr. President. We are not retreating, we need to reconvene so we may do battle with the forces of evil. If prayer is going to help us, President Tyler, then we all need to get to Magog bunker so we can pray for the Lord’s strength and guidance. Most importantly, we all need you to lead us in prayer and we can’t do that here with Satan’s minions out there dest
roying our men. It’s distracting, and to put ourselves in jeopardy would be defeating God’s purpose. Now let’s arm ourselves and get about the business of fighting the good fight.”

  Miller’s words had a profound affect on President Jeffrey Tyler. His eyes lit up with righteous fury. “Now there’s a man of the Lord! Let’s do it!” He broke away from the window and joined him at the wall. “Special Agent White and Walpow, drop your weapons. Let’s retreat to Magog for prayer.”

  Walpow watched Tyler join Miller at the wall and lowered his weapon. Ken White did likewise. Kathy Hayden closed the door to the conference room and locked it. She leaned against it, panting, her face damp with sweat.

  From outside the hallway came the sound of an animal-like roar and heavy footsteps. Whatever was making those sounds sounded large. They could all hear a clicking sound that accompanied the footsteps, as if whatever was coming down the hallway had sharp claws.

  Kathy screamed and rushed toward President Tyler and Miller at the wall. “They’re getting closer!”

  “The panel’s right here.” Tyler said. He pressed the wall and a compartment began to open.

  From out in the hall, the sound of the Dark Ones outside the door to the conference room grew louder. There was a heavy pound on the door.

  “Shit, open up, hurry!” White screamed as the frenzied pounding continued outside the hallway, accompanied by more bleats from the Dark Ones.

  The compartment door opened to reveal what appeared to be a closet.

  Special Agent Clark Arroyo stepped out of the compartment brandishing a Sig Sauer 9mm handgun. He raised his weapon, squeezed off one shot, and dropped Walpow. Then he turned the weapon on President Tyler and grinned.

  “Time’s up, Mr. President.”

 

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