Emergence (Book 2): Infestation

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Emergence (Book 2): Infestation Page 14

by JT Sawyer


  He glanced back at Selene, who was hunched over the coffin with her gloved hands inside the bony chest cavity of the corpse. “How much longer, Doc?”

  She didn’t look up, continuing to slice through the ossified remains below the sternum. “Almost done. Give me one more minute. I am extracting several cross-sections of desiccated tissue, just to be safe.”

  He heard Ivins’ voice coming through his earpiece. “We are proceeding inside a dormitory north of Lobos Creek to search for survivors.”

  “Copy that,” said Reisner. He aimed straight ahead and shot a creature dressed in a tuxedo forty yards out. “We will be extracting from the cemetery within ten minutes, maybe less.”

  “Less, for sure,” said Selene with gusto. She climbed out of the grave and stowed her test tube sample inside a padded cylinder, then placed it inside a silver briefcase. After sealing it up, she moved the case twenty feet away from the grave and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant spray from her duffle bag. She showered her gloves and the zipper that attached her facemask to the biohazard suit, then she sprayed the briefcase. Moving back a few feet, she disrobed and stepped out of her suit, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the grass.

  Reisner waited until she had the briefcase, then radioed in for the Blackhawk to retrieve them. He looked around at the growing pile of dead bodies littered throughout the cemetery, the gravestones splattered with blood and parasites. What kind of world are we living in now? He moved forward a few feet as Selene stepped closer. The comforting sound of the Blackhawks could be heard above the intermittent crack of gunfire.

  “Let’s move,” he yelled as the entire team along with Selene moved in unison towards the northeast corner of the cemetery, towards the descending helicopter.

  Chapter 29

  Ivins swung the side door of the dorm open and swept inside. Murphy and the two other operators flowed in behind him while the last SEAL remained outside, covering the entrance.

  The hallway ahead reeked of perspiration and rotting food. Each room they passed appeared to have been ransacked, with mattresses missing off the beds and dresser drawers overturned. At the base of the staircase ahead was a pile of food wrappers, empty water bottles, and soiled bandages. Ivins examined the latter, looking for any signs of worms, but only saw dried blood.

  He held his rifle up at an angle as he ascended the stairs, then moved towards the first door on the right, where he had seen the movement earlier. He and Murphy stood on either side, listening, then Ivins reached down for the knob. The hollowcore door was locked but flimsy, and he motioned to Murphy to kick it in while he prepared to rush inside.

  Murphy smashed into the faux wood, causing the door to swing inward slightly against something, then bounce back to the closed position. Murphy leaned on it with his shoulder, straining to move it. “Something padded on the other end.”

  Ivins was about to help push when he saw the door one room down swing open and a young boy bolt out. Ivins took off running, tackling the spindly child. The boy thrashed around, slamming his fists down on Ivins’ head and screaming.

  “Easy, kid. We’re not going to hurt you.” He got a hold of the boy’s arms and pinned them down, then sat on his chest. “It’s OK, we’re with the Navy. We’re gonna get you out of here.”

  “Let me go. I don’t want to die like the others.” The boy’s pale face was a contrast to the furious look in his eyes. Ivins felt like he was trying to restrain a python as the boy continued to thrash until his little arms were spent.

  Ivins heard Murphy come up behind. “Looks like he made a hole in the drywall leading into the other room. It’s all blocked with mattresses but it sounds like someone else is inside.”

  “That’s my mom. She’s sick.” The boy began squirming again, trying to break free of Ivins’ grip.

  “Relax, kid, and I’ll let you up.” The boy slumped back, catching his breath. “Let’s take a look at her—maybe we can help.”

  “She got bit by one of those things three days ago when she went out to look for food.”

  Ivins glanced up at Murphy, both men exchanging surprised looks.

  “You sure it was three days ago?” said Murphy.

  “Yeah, it was right after everyone started getting real sick and started hiding.” He sat up on his elbows. “Please, let me go. I won’t hit you anymore.”

  Ivins gave him a slight grin. He could still see the fire in the boy’s eyes, and wasn’t sure if he was being honest, but knew he was tough as hell to have survived this long. Ivins stood up, offering the boy his hand. Besides looking malnourished, he appeared to be around ten years old, with shaggy brown hair.

  “I’m Tom—Tom Ivins. What’s your name, kid?”

  “Chris Gates.” The boy looked beyond Ivins at the other heavily armed SEALs standing near the stairwell. Chris gulped, staring up at Ivins. “Are there more of you?”

  “Just a few,” said Murphy.

  “It’s not going to be enough,” Chris said with a whisper as he led them back into the other room. “They’ll know you’re here. They can tell when there’s people nearby.”

  Ivins got a chill hearing the boy utter something borne from experiences no child should ever have to witness. He watched Chris deftly crawl through a jagged hole at the base of the wall. Ivins swept his rifle muzzle inside the entrance, turning on his flashlight. The other room was filled with piles of clothing and desk chairs. He watched Chris weave through a small trail that led to the corner, where there were two parallel stacks of mattresses, with several going across the top. A blanket hung down in front of the entrance to a makeshift fort, and Ivins could hear heavy breathing coming from the other side.

  He scanned the floor for any signs of parasites or indications the woman was infected, then crawled through the tight entrance.

  Chris pulled back the blanket to reveal a woman in her mid-thirties, whose gaunt face was pallid. She coughed, then tried to sit up, but the effort proved too daunting and she collapsed back onto the floor.

  “I made this fort to keep us warm at night and to prevent any sound from getting out so the monsters wouldn’t find us,” said Chris.

  Ivins patted him on the shoulder. “Good job, buddy. You’re a smart kid.” He moved closer, resting his rifle on the ground so the flashlight illuminated the woman’s wounded leg. She was barely conscious and her breathing was heavy. Ivins introduced himself then lifted up the flimsy gauze wrapping with his gloved fingers to examine the leg. He saw a fist-sized chunk of flesh missing, with jagged teeth marks around the edges. Ivins scanned the raw pulp, which had pockets of pus but no parasites. He could see red streaks spreading out from the wound up her leg, and knew she had a bad bacterial infection that needed to be treated immediately.

  “You said your mom was bit three days ago? You sure it was that long ago?”

  The woman gasped, her eyes fluttering. “Yes, I had just come from getting supplies when a creature tackled me by the park.” She took a deep breath, as if she had just run up a hill. “I killed it with a hammer, but not before it did this to me. The worms didn’t seem too interested in me, and fell off my leg as I walked. I waited for two hours before returning to my son, thinking I was going to become one of those things, but nothing ever happened.”

  How the fuck did she not turn? Ivins looked over his shoulder at Murphy, whose head was visible in the drywall opening. “Get our coordinates to the helo and tell them we’re going to need an extract from the roof of this building in ten minutes.”

  Ivins heard a squelch in his ear-mic from the SEAL outside the building. “We’ve got Tangos inbound on all four sides of the field near our Whiskey. I think the whole West Coast just found out where we’re at.”

  Ivins shouted back at Murphy, “Get us out of here.” Then he leaned forward to help the nearly limp woman sit up, all of her energy depleted from talking. He looked up at Chris. “What’s your mom’s name?”

  “Amber.”

  “Well, Chris, you and your mom, Amber, are going
to go on a little ride with us, but first we need to get you both upstairs.” He heard Murphy finishing up the conversation with the Blackhawk pilots, then he saw the operator smashing out more of the drywall with his boot. Ivins looked around at the room they were in with the arrangement of mattresses. “You and your mom were clever to set up a fort like this to dampen the sound so the creatures wouldn’t find you. Good job, buddy.”

  Ivins patted Chris on the arm. “Now, I need you to grab your mom’s other side and help me lift her up a little.” They moved the tottering woman towards the escape hole. A second later, he heard a grenade go off on the first floor. The frenzied chatter in his earpiece indicated the fight was on, and he hoped the Blackhawk wasn’t delayed.

  Handing the woman to Murphy, he helped slide her through the opening. They were joined in the hallway by the rest of the team as spent brass began piling up in the lower hallway. Ivins put Amber over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry as he, Murphy, and Chris moved up the narrow stairwell leading to the roof. The cacophony of gunfire below them echoed off the walls amidst the screams of dozens of creatures being shredded by a hail of 5.56 rounds.

  Exiting onto the roof, he felt the welcome hand of sunlight on his face. He pivoted slowly in a circle, trying to home in on the nearby thumping of rotor blades, then realized there wasn’t a helicopter in sight. The noise was coming from below, as thousands of creatures pounded their fists on the building, trying to gain access to the roof.

  He knelt down, lowering Amber against a ventilation shaft, then unslung his AR. Ivins heard another grenade blast in the hallway below, and knew that chokepoint had probably just been sealed. Moving closer to the edge, he peered down and saw the creatures climbing on top of a dumpster near the back wall. At first, they appeared disoriented again, as if some computer chip in their head was skewed, then they resumed their focused assault. What’s going on with them?

  Some began wildly leaping upward, trying to catch the lip of the roof, and Ivins knew it wouldn’t be long before they succeeded. He fired into the heads of the more agile creatures, who were getting close, then heard the rest of his team spread out onto the building after barring the entrance door shut with a steel bar.

  There was now a tidal wave of drones slamming against the dormitory from all four sides. A cloud of dust and grass from their frenzied feet was swirling up into the air, and their shrill voices joined together to form a high-pitched whistle that was deafening. Ivins continued sniping the occasional drone that got too close to reaching the top. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the parking lot, then paused in shock as he watched nearly fifty paras shoving a flatbed tow truck over the curb and onto the lawn. The crowd below parted as the others propelled the vehicle towards the side of the dormitory. Then they moved in unison to the rear and upended the rig, heaving the back upwards until it slammed against the building below the gutters.

  “Shit—all eyes to the east,” yelled Ivins as dozens of drones began bounding up the truck chassis like some medieval castle assault he’d seen in the movies. His mind was reeling from the intelligence behind such an undertaking, and he forced himself to focus on shooting the nearest creatures.

  Ivins began unloading his weapon, firing off one burst after another into the steady stream of creatures flowing onto the vehicle-ladder. Two creatures escaped the haze of gunfire and leapt onto the roof, making a mad dash for Chris. Ivins fired off a succession of rounds, killing the first beast within inches of the boy and his mother. The second creature made an immediate ninety-degree turn and bolted directly for Murphy, coming up behind him. Ivins shot it in the right temple, but the resulting blood loss sprayed a mist of worms onto Murphy’s neck. The operator spun around, furiously wiping his gloves along the gray goop coating his collar. Ivins ran over, brushing his gloves along the man’s thick neck, pulling off a two-inch-long parasite that had almost wriggled into Murphy’s ear.

  “I got ’em all, I think,” yelled Ivins above the din of gunfire.

  Murphy’s eyes seemed to fill his entire face. “Fucking hell. You think you did, or you did for sure?”

  Ivins didn’t have time to answer. He swung around and dropped to one knee as another para dove in his direction. He shot it from underneath as he rolled away from the clawing fingers aimed at his face. The creature’s head shattered open from the close-range shot and it dropped a few feet from Ivins. He got up and saw another tangle of drones moving another vehicle from the parking lot to the right.

  A second later, a strafing blur of bullets from above shredded their bodies as the Blackhawks arrived from the rear of the building. Ivins resumed focusing all of his efforts towards the wave of creatures moving up the truck leaning against the dorm. The rest of his team had gathered in a half-arc, spraying rounds into the assaulters. Once he caught sight of the Blackhawk beginning to descend, he yelled for Murphy’s help, then trotted over to Chris, who was huddled over his mother’s body, both of them locked in an embrace. He pried the boy’s grip free, then thrust him towards Murphy, who hoisted him up to Reisner inside the cabin.

  Ivins picked up Amber and stayed in a low-crouch as he trotted to the helicopter, then raised her up into the outstretched hands of Nash and Pacelle. He heard the mini-gun in the helicopters sending another burst into the crowd. The stream of hot brass landing on the drones below caused them to scatter temporarily as Ivins shouted for the rest of his men to get inside the chopper. He and Murphy provided cover fire as each man retreated, then they leapt inside the Blackhawk. The pilot quickly swung it hard to the left, arcing over the bloody lawn below and speeding away to the south.

  Ivins collapsed back onto the bench, his rifle muzzle still smoking as he looked out at the enraged menace below, whose eyes were fixed on them as they headed towards the coast.

  He glanced over at Reisner, then at Selene. “You get what you came for?”

  Selene gave a hearty nod then leaned over Amber and examined her wound. “This looks pretty infected.”

  Ivins removed his sweaty gloves. “And you’re gonna love this, Doc—that’s from a bite she got three days ago.”

  Selene’s face went rigid, her eyebrows scrunching together. “It’s a miracle she’s still alive.” Selene reached into her medical kit and removed a syringe and a vial of penicillin. After she had given the woman the injection, she connected an IV bag of saline to get her hydrated, then covered her with an emergency blanket.

  Ivins glanced over at Amber and Chris, then looked around the cabin at all of his men, knowing how things might have turned out differently if the helicopters hadn’t arrived when they did. He slumped back on the bench, shuddering out a deep breath. Guess this wasn’t such a bad day after all. He leaned forward and patted Chris on the shoulder, giving the boy a smile. “You did well to keep you and your mom alive for so long. You’re an incredible young man—don’t ever forget it.”

  Ivins looked out at the sun illuminating the rocky coastline and burning off the fog, thinking the heavens seemed brighter than he’d seen them in a long time.

  Chapter 30

  East Los Angeles

  The alpha female was sitting on the cold ground in a new tunnel system a half-mile from the charred quarters of its former feeding chamber. It glanced down at the crisp flesh on its right leg and felt a sting of pain as raw muscle oozed a gray fluid. The small band of fleeing humans had wounded it enough that rest was required for a few hours. Fortunately, its last feeding had engorged it and allowed for the increase in worms that were now a hive of movement, repairing the capillary bed in the badly burned tissue. The severity of the burn would have killed it in its previous life as a frail woman, but now it was being quickly restored as dead skin sloughed off with each surge from the writhing mass. The grotesque noise of the parasites eating through the damaged cells made the room seem like it was situated beside a creek, as the gurgling increased with each new overlay of restored membrane.

  If it hadn’t been pre-occupied with draining the precious clear fluid
from its last victim, it would have sensed the attack upon its drones from the fleeing captives and been able to send reinforcements, but it had discovered its first weakness: feeding meant it was vulnerable and unable to see through its brood’s eyes. We must protect against the Others harming us again.

  Its mind, which at first seemed driven by primitive instincts days ago, was now forming into its full capacity. A voice, both familiar and monstrous inside it, was coalescing into a single cohesive structure. It was driven by a force it now recognized as its own instead of a recurring echo of its former self, reverberating off the conflicted chambers of its being. At times, it heard the far-off voices of others like it, but couldn’t isolate the sounds or know if it was being spoken to or shouting back at the others. It was a different chatter than the lowly drones that surrounded her and looked to her for guidance. These other voices were like hers—commanding and unyielding.

  It craned its head up to the right as it became distracted by something far off. Its eyes were focused and narrowed, but not on its surroundings. Psychically, it was perceiving through another creature’s eyes in a city elsewhere. This extension of its senses had occurred before since it had emerged as leader. Each time, it had felt the pain associated with the loss of its brood, including the mysterious death of thousands in a wooded setting somewhere distant—a fireball of searing heat next to a small building, followed by the screams of its subordinates before they fell silent.

  Now, it felt a similar pain. It paused for a moment, realizing this was a far different feeling than that associated with its gruesome leg wound. This was a sense of loss—of anguish on a monumental scale as more of its drones were extinguished, their psychic cries fusing as one then disappearing altogether. The beast had seen the collective images of a burning vehicle and Others shooting from the top of a building, while others were in a grassy field, removing something from the ground. Then the vision was suddenly severed, the shrill voices ending. The creature slowly crumpled it shoulders forward, lowering its head while its bony fingers clawed at the pavement. The Others have done this to us.

 

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