by Amy Miles
“Let him go, Jax,” I yell and step out of my hiding place.
“Ah, there you are. You should never send a kid to do your killing, Avery. It doesn’t work out well. That’s a lesson I learned a long time ago with your boyfriend, actually.”
My eyes narrow as his smile grows wider and he jerks his gun in my direction, motioning for me to step out. “Oh, you didn’t know, did you? I am the one who let the Flesh Bags free in your sector in the hotel. You see, I know Nox is an insufferable hero and wouldn’t be able to resist rushing back to save you. It was a good plan, right up until you proved incapable of being killed.”
“Chloe died that night because of you.”
“No,” he shakes his head as he keeps his gun aimed at my heart. “She died because you dropped her. That wasn’t on me.”
“I was attacked!”
“Of course you were. That was the whole point.” He rolls his eyes. “But at least I learned a valuable lesson that night. If you want something done, you do it yourself.”
“No!” I dive as he turns the gun onto Liam and fires. I slam into Jax like a battering ram that sends Flynn, Jax and I all skidding across the floor. I shove Flynn off and get on top of Jax, using my knees to pin his arms down.
He grunts and growls as he fights against me, but I keep him down. Clenching up my fist, I slam it into his nose, over and over again. I smash his cheek bones, demolish his nose and shatter his jaw, but still I hit until the red that I see before my eyes isn’t just a vision.
“Avery, enough!” Flynn tries to pull on my arm but I shake him off and hit Jax again.
“He killed Liam,” I pant and hit Jax so hard his neck snaps to the side and I hear a pop.
“He didn’t. It’s just a shoulder wound.” Flynn pulls against my shoulder. “Liam is fine.”
I blink several times, trying to process his words. I turn to see Liam holding his shoulder, grimacing as blood stains his fingers, but he is alive.
I shove back off of Jax and rise shakily to my feet.
“I’m sorry, Flynn.”
“It’s fine. How’s your hand?”
It is impossible to tell where my blood starts and his blood ends but the ache tells me that at the least I’ve sprained it. “I’ll live.”
“But we might not.”
Together Flynn and I turn to where Liam in pointing. In the distance, I see the first zombie sprinting toward us.
“You have to go, Avery.” Flynn shoves me toward the door. “Go find Wiemann while you still can.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“And I’m not asking. I’ll get Liam and me to the roof. There’s some cans of gas near the back that I found. We’ll soak ourselves in that and mask our smell.”
“No,” I shake my head, looking between the boys. “There’s no way to know if that will work.”
Flynn and Liam exchange a glance and then nod. Flynn smiles and places a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll be fine. Do what you came here to do. We will find you after.”
Before I can stop him, Flynn shoves me out of the door and rushes forward to shove the door closed behind me. I hear a terrible crash as he knocks large crates in front of the door to block it.
There is an access hatch at the rear of the building and enough crates to climb on. I only hope there is enough time for Flynn to get them both on that roof before the zombies arrive.
I turn to look in the distance. More have followed the first. If I do nothing, Flynn will only have a few short minutes.
Stretching out my hand, I dig my nails into my arm and tear deep until blood flows freely and then press my hand against the wall and run, leaving a trail behind me in the opposite direction.
“At least maybe I can buy them a few extra minutes.”
TWENTY-ONE
Skirting along the perimeter wall costs me precious few minutes of running in the wrong direction as the horde of Flesh Bags bears down on me, but the line of blood that I draw as I go should be enough to stop them from barreling straight through the wall. Their instinct to hunt mixed with the intensity of the sun overhead will force them to pause and get their bearings as they search for me. By then I will be over the wall and deep inside the base.
Grabbing a hold of the corner, I throw myself around the edge and sprint ahead. My feet barely feel as if they touch the ground as I lean forward and run full out. My hair whips back from my face and the hat Liam gave me spirals up into the air, but I don’t turn back. I will need as much spare time to find Dr. Wiemann as I can get.
When the air control tower comes into view, and I can just see the top of the hangar in the distance, I leap and grab hold of the wall and then drop onto the other side, startling a guard on duty. Before he had a chance to get his gun in hand, I race up the rickety steps of his crow’s nest perch and toss him over the edge. His scream ends in a sickening crunch.
I turn to look over the wall and see that the horde has picked up speed. A wide trail of dust follow behind them. Somewhere among them is Cable. He will have sensed me long before they reached the city. If he finds me before I take out Wiemann all of this will be for nothing.
Leaping over the side of the perch, I land and race along the inner chain link fence. Three more soldiers die by my hand before the first alarm is raised, but I know it is not for my sake. Someone has finally noticed the approaching Flesh Bag army.
All across the airport, sirens scream out their warning. I hoist myself over the final fence and zigzag among buried land mines that, to the naked eye, would have been nearly impossible to spot. I reach the tarmac just as the first wave of zombies slam into the perimeter wall. The vibrations ripple through the wood.
I fight to still my rising panic as soldiers flood out of the hangar and race for their vehicles. Large swivel style guns on tripods spin toward the far wall in preparation. In the distance I hear the rumble of several tanks approaching. No amount of weaponry will be enough to hold the zombies back this time.
In the barely controlled chaos that erupts all around, no one takes any notice of me as I run toward the hangar. The ground trembles under foot and shouts for commanding officers can barely be heard over the protesting creaks and groans of the perimeter wall.
I make it to a side door of the building just as the first loud crack tears through the air. From over my shoulder, I see the far wall split down the middle. Hands grope through the opening, pulling and tugging at the wood.
Fear makes me nearly rip the hinges off the door. It slams hard against the wall as I dash inside. The interior is blissfully dim and it doesn’t take long for my eyesight to adjust, but when it does I skid to a halt.
A twelve foot high rectangular metal cage spans out before me, reminiscent of a cage a circus might have once used to house their trained tigers. Crammed inside are beasts no less feral than a jungle cat as they claw at the air in an attempt to get me.
Red streaks the whites of their eyes and foam sits in thick globs at their mouths. Their skin is nearly translucent, creating a vivid roadmap of veins in their exposed skin. Their backs are hunched and their shoulders and arms are deformed, elongated much like a monkey’s. Their facial bone structure has been altered with a jutting jaw and thick, bony forehead. Their fingers curl inward as they beat against one another for space, but there is none to be found. They have been shoved into the cage so tightly that if one were to fall, it would be trampled immediately.
Shrill screeching rises from those nearest me as the ones behind crush the front row against the bars without mercy. And the horror does not end with this one cage of experiments. There are no less than five similar cages standing in a row beyond this one, each one with creatures in various stages of devolution.
“Oh, my God.” I press a hand to my lips.
These people have endured a forced mutation, but I can only guess that their blood was spliced with some of the CDC
’s test animals like the ape that came for me in the woods. Experiments gone very wrong and shoved here to keep them under containment.
From outside, I hear a loud boom of a cannon and brace for the impact. The ground trembles as deafening gunfire begins.
“They must have breached the wall.”
Trying to ignore the howls and screeching beside me, I lift my nose to the air and search for Dr. Wiemann’s scent but it is impossible to track over the potent scent of the things beside me. I run down the aisle, careful to keep as close to the wall as possible and pass by several makeshift rooms with large viewing windows. I turn to stare into one and see a man strapped to an upright table. Wide chains have been looped around his wrists, ankles, chest and neck. He thrashes as bloody foam escapes between his gritted teeth. An empty syringe has been abandoned on a metal medical cart and the door left sitting wide open.
I pass six more rooms just like this one, but when I reach the seventh, I slam to a halt. There, chained to a table, is Cap. His eyes are wide with fright as he cranes his neck back, listening to the war raging outside.
“Somebody get me the hell out of here!” He screams.
His head snaps around when I open the door and he pales when he recognizes me “You!”
“Why does everyone say that when they see me?” I step inside but leave the door open so that Cap can hear the ruckus of the beasts just beyond. “It’s not like this should be a surprise. You did leave Ryker behind for me to torture information out of, after all.”
Cap presses his lips tightly together. I step closer and notice a full syringe on the counter beside him. It is filled with a strange green fluid, almost iridescent in the dim light.
When I pick it up, Cap thrashes against the chains but is helpless to escape. I turn slowly to look at him as I hold it at eye level.
“You know what this will do to you, don’t you?”
He spits at me. “Go to hell.”
“Oh, I went there a while back,” I smile and press the syringe to push out the bits of air in it. I would hate for him to die in the wrong way. “You should have killed me when you had the chance.”
“It wasn’t personal.”
“I know.” I place a hand on his arm. He flexes and struggles but I easily hold him down. “It was just business, right? Or was it pleasure? I can’t ever really tell with you people.”
Cap yells as I push the needle into his arm and pause. “Was it worth it?”
Even to the very end, right before I inject him with the serum and walk away to leave him to suffer, he is defiant. I listen to his cries of pain and the breaking of bones as his body begins to alter, but I do not stay to see what sort of monster he will become.
I have nearly reached the far end of the row of cages when the door I entered through crashes open. I spin around to see soldiers running backward, firing off shots as Flesh Bags pour into the building. Screams of fear and pain echo through the lofty ceiling as I look all around me for an escape.
There is no way that I can climb onto a cage without getting bitten along the way. The beasts near this end of the hangar are the closest to apelike and no doubt possess a strength even I can’t match.
I spin around, looking for a weapon to use when I spy an electrical box on the wall. It looks far too new to have been original to the building. Large, thick wires run up the wall from it and fan out toward the cages. I turn to follow the lines and realize that each of them connect to a small motor housed above the close cage doors. A generator feeds to all of them.
Glancing down the hall, I see no less than fifty soldiers in a battle for their lives. There is nowhere for them to run and nowhere that they can hide. They were dead before they even entered the building.
Flipping the cover of the electrical box, I place a finger on the glowing red button. “I’m sorry.”
Pressing the button, I turn and run as the doors to the cages begin to rise. Within seconds an outpouring of monsters overtake the soldiers. I try to block out their screams but when new screams replace them, I turn back to see that the experimental mutations have begun to attack the Flesh Bags as well.
The tear through the rotting corpses, shredding them with razor sharp claws and elongated teeth. Blood splatters every inch of the hallway. I stand in disbelief until one of the mutants sniffs the air and turns its black eyes on me.
“Shit!”
Adrenalin spikes through me as I turn and sprint for the door looming ahead of me. It is tall and metal with large hinges and a thumb print key pad. Looking back over my shoulder I see that more mutants have followed my scent.
“This day just keeps getting better and better.”
I yank on the door handle, feeling its immovable weight as the door locks refuse to give. Clenching my first, I beat against the metal, denting it but doing no further damage.
From behind me, I can feel the vibrations of the growls in my chest and can taste their acrid scent on the air. I have boxed myself into a corner and let no way of escape.
I turn and do the only thing that I can do: prepare to fight.
Screams of rage echo down the hall as I watch four of the mutants running toward me using their elongated arms to propel them forward. I can feel the Flesh Bags anger and pain as they fight back, spilling over into the hangar in a flood of rot and ruin. The scent of their black blood stings my nostrils as I stare down the oncoming beasts and my final thought before they strike is of Nox.
I can see his face just as clearly as if he were standing in front of me, smiling and handsome. My chest clenches with a deep ache as I think about losing him, of never truly having the chance to embrace the love that I feel for him.
The feeling of injustice swells within me as I stare down death. My lips peel back into a snarl and rage fills me. I growl low and deep and launch myself at the first beast.
Its powerful arms swing at me and I duck, narrowly missing having my head knocked off my neck. The monster screams as it connects with the door. The metal screeches as it bends and I turn to see that a hole has opened near the top.
I smile as a plan forms. “Come at me again.”
Flexing its fingers, the mutant swings again and I dance out of the way only to have the breath knocked out of me a second later when it comes around and hits me from behind. I slam into the wall and ricochet off. My vision darkens when its arms wrap around me in a vice-like grip, threatening to squeeze the air from my lungs. I twist and fight, scratching and clawing at its skin, shredding through muscle as strong as iron. I kick out at its feet, crushing its toes under the tread of my boot.
It howls and loosens its grip on me. I wriggled around in its arms and work to grip my hand around its face. Three others close in from behind as I squeeze with all my might and begin to feel the bone cracking beneath my palms.
The beast grapples to pull me away but I dig my nails into its face and scream as I bring my hands together. Its head crushes and a brackish blood flows over my fingers. Breathing deeply, I jump back as it falls to the ground. The other beasts do not slow at the sight of their downed brethren.
Leaping up onto the dead mutant’s back, I yank at the hole in the metal door. The metal grows slick with my blood as the door groans and the opening widens another couple of inches. The space still looks too small but I have no choice but to try for it.
Stepping onto the door handle, I thrust my hands through the opening and onto the other side. The metal tears at my clothes as I wiggle my chest through and have just begun to fit my hips when I feel hands grab onto my feet. I kick out at the beasts as my arms quiver with the effort it takes to keep myself rooted in the hole.
Claws tear into my calves as I fight to pull myself through. The scent of my blood in the airs drives the three beasts into a frenzy as metal carves into my sides. I cry out from the pain as I am jostled around but feel the grip on my leg fall free. The door rocks as they fight w
ith each other to get to me to me again as I hold my legs aloft. Taking advantage of the spare seconds of freedom I bend in half, lower my hands and grab ahold of the door handle to pull with every ounce of strength remaining.
My legs fly up and hit the temporary hallway ceiling tiles just before I slide through the gap, saved by the slickness of my own blood. Holding my side, I slowly rise to my feet to see eyes filled with rage staring at me through the window. The glass fogs with each humid breath.
“I hope you bastards rip each other to shreds.” I spit at the door and turn to limp away.
As I turn the corner and enter a section of the hangar that has been partitioned off as a research area, the beasts behind me scream and beat against the door. Eventually they will find a way in, but so far they have proven to have a far lower intelligence level than that of the Flesh Bags. These things are nothing more than brutish animals reacting on instinct alone.
The lights overhead flicker as I stumble forward, leaving heavily against the wall for support. The sound of gunfire continues but is far more diminished in this section of the building. I pass by empty offices set up with microscopes, test tubes, centrifuges and other lab equipment that I wouldn’t have the first clue how to use.
I can smell blood on the air, thick and strong, but it turns my stomach. It is tainted, altered and foul. Glancing into a room, I see a door to a large metal refrigerator standing open and see stacks of chilled blood bags.
“If those bastards had my nose they would have known long before they started injecting those people that it wasn’t going to work.”
I grimace and pull my hand away from my side to discover that I am bleeding far worse than I realized. Reaching around the corner of the door, I grab a white lab coat off a metal hook and tie its length around my waist tightly.