He winked at Sarah, and she winked back at the joke. But her eyes were constantly moving, taking in everything. Munoz bit his lip as more jokes got ready to spill forth—a defense mechanism for when he was nervous. He needed to focus, to see if he could learn anything here that might help.
The team followed the burly Dutchman, stony-faced and focused.
Munoz wrapped his arms around himself, attempting to stem his shivers as he followed Roux toward the base’s entrance, toward a mystery solution that could stop humankind’s genocide.
Bowcut kept Roux firmly in her sight. She instantly recognized the look in the Dutchman’s eyes. He was a stone-cold killer. Somebody who acted without remorse and saved questions for later. She’d met people like him before: mercenaries and murderers she’d busted while with NYPD SWAT. These types of people lived outside the confines of civilized society.
Which made sense considering how far away from civilization they were . . . and how close they were to having no society at all.
The group headed through the hangar doors.
Roux stopped by the first set of shelves. He extended a palm toward Cafferty, Munoz, and Bowcut, gesturing them to halt. Roux swept his hand across the vast indoor space. “This warehouse contains supplies for the base. Constant expansion has led to daily runs by the Foundation’s underground trains to our docks at Pine Island Bay—”
“Wait,” Bowcut interrupted. “You’ve built underground trains here?”
“How else would you suggest we transport supplies from disguised survey ships?” Van Ness replied.
Bowcut peered at the hundreds of shelves lining the massive walls. They held thousands of sacks labeled as corn, barley, various vegetables. Electronic devices. Lasers. Water purification systems. Pretty much everything she could think of that could feed and equip thousands of people for a very long time.
“I don’t get it,” Bowcut whispered to Munoz and Cafferty. “How has all this gone undetected?”
“He built a fortress under Paris and no one noticed,” Diego said. “When’s the last time you looked at Antarctica on Google Maps?”
“But you personally scoured the Foundation computers,” Cafferty said. “Zero mention of this base.”
Van Ness spun his wheelchair to face Cafferty, having overheard his comment. “Makes you wonder what else you do not know, doesn’t it, Thomas?” Van Ness replied smugly. “Kindly let me know when you no longer feel up to the task.”
Munoz could see the silent anger on Cafferty’s face as he bit his lip. He could not imagine the intensity of what the mayor was feeling at this moment.
“This way,” Roux said matter-of-factly. The big Dutchman moved along the walkway with purpose. His boots pounded the smooth stone floor as he briskly made his way through the area.
The group passed Foundation guards who eyed them with suspicion while they advanced. The strangeness of the moment and the lack of backup kept Bowcut on a high state of alert. She had a round in the rifle’s chamber and the safety off. She didn’t expect a battle, but if one came, the only option was going down shooting.
But it can’t end like this. We’ve come too far. The Foundation still needs us. Needs our ships and planes. Van Ness didn’t bring us out here to die.
She kept telling herself that, her head on a swivel.
They followed Roux to the end and inside a grated industrial elevator. He slammed the metal gate shut and slapped his palm against a red button.
The elevator beeped, then slowly rose above the rows of shelving, giving Bowcut a breathtaking overhead view of the massive scale of the warehouse. It was beyond belief that the Foundation could build something so impressive without being noticed. But it had. Just like in Paris.
If only it had put that engineering ingenuity to stopping the creatures all those years ago.
The elevator bumped to a stop in front of a brightly lit, long white corridor.
Roux opened the gate. “These are our laboratory facilities.”
The first room was full of glass-and-steel cryo-chambers, now empty, as if the experiments inside had escaped. Bowcut cast her mind back to the freak-show experimentation room in the Paris underground lair. Human and animal experiments. Cryo-chambers full of mutated monstrosities, stomach churning to the core.
“What happens in these labs?” she asked.
“I design the future,” a man said from the other side of the lab. The unknown voice took the group by surprise.
From behind one of the glass chambers, a man in a white lab coat walked out and promptly tripped over a waste bin. The metal container ricocheted off the wall loudly, and after a few seconds, the clanging stopped. He looked disheveled, shirt half untucked, and wiped sugar off his face, presumably from a jelly doughnut.
“Sorry,” the man said, and approached the group. “Um, I was saying I design the future.”
Van Ness looked visibly disgusted by the man. “This is Dr. Cornelius Liander, head of this Antarctic laboratory.”
“Oh, hey, Mr. Van Ness,” the doctor replied, quickly tucking in his shirt. “Um. How are you?”
“Show us what you’ve been working on please, Cornelius.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Bowcut could tell by Munoz’s face that he liked this guy.
Liander cleared his throat. “Well, as you know, the creatures are stronger than us, probably smarter than us. So I was like, what if they weren’t, you know?”
Bowcut spied Van Ness, who looked like he was moments away from slapping the good doctor across the face.
“So, you know, I combined different, um, combinations of DNA to try to level the playing field, as they say in some sports.”
“What sports exactly?” Munoz asked.
“I don’t know, I was never into sports.”
Undoubtedly a solitaire guy, Bowcut thought.
“It took some time, but you know, we finally got it right,” Liander continued. “Let’s see the creatures fight them!”
“Fight who?” Cafferty asked.
“Wanna show them, Mr. Van Ness?” Cornelius asked proudly.
Van Ness nodded, visibly annoyed.
The doctor led the group to a double set of black doors at the end of the lab. When he reached within a couple of paces, the doors automatically parted to reveal a dimly lit, wide metal bridge, thirty feet in length, with pitch black all around. At the far end, a console cast a weak glow onto the grating.
The doors closed behind them, shutting out all artificial light from the laboratory. To Bowcut, it seemed like they had entered a void and stood over a massive black abyss with nothing below. She strained to see anything in the darkness. Tried to listen for any noise above a low roar from what sounded like the largest air-conditioning unit in the world.
Is it a nest? Another show of supposed dominance over the creatures, like Van Ness’ Paris lair?
Wherever they had entered, the nature of it sent a chill down Bowcut’s spine.
Van Ness approached the console. A smile stretched across his wrinkled face as he locked eyes with Cafferty. He hovered his index finger over a button. “I’d like to introduce you to my army that’s going to save the world . . .”
Van Ness pressed the glass pad.
A row of fifty brilliant globes thumped on above the group.
Then another fifty ahead of them.
Rows blazed on in sequence until they stretched forward to a distance of roughly a mile. The enormous underground warehouse suddenly blazed with light in all directions, illuminating every inch.
Cafferty leaned over the railing and sucked in a sharp breath. “What the holy hell?”
Chapter Thirteen
Over an hour had passed on the roof of the San Francisco office building. The merciless midmorning sun beat down on Karen and Joey, uncaring about their situation. Her son squinted up at her and smiled. The wall they’d ducked behind shaded his arms and legs. He finally seemed calm after their leap for survival. After what he’d experienced, she had no id
ea how.
Sweat trickled down Karen’s back. Her heart still pounded against her chest and her mind raced at a million miles per hour. Added to her scrambled mental state, her stomach fluttered every time a creature’s cry echoed through the streets. She hadn’t dared to enter the building to grab some snacks.
But that jump . . .
It was almost as unbelievable as the creatures.
Joey and she had come inches from certain death, then hidden from the same fate. Karen’s ankles and knees ached from crouching against the wall. She didn’t dare raise her head in case of catching a creature’s beady eye.
The shrieks had gradually receded as the creatures stormed their way through buildings farther up Lombard Street. The sickening sounds of bodies being hurled through windows and hammering against the road had waned.
She was taking nothing for granted.
It doesn’t mean all the creatures have gone. Lone ones might be still searching here, or have tracking skills beyond human comprehension.
The final conclusion struck her as odd. But this was the horrific, unforeseen, and unpredictable world they were living in right now. All the normal rules she knew had vanished. Conventional wisdom had no answer to the onslaught.
Karen slowly twisted around and stared at the break room behind them. At the far end, two bloodied corpses—or maybe three; it was impossible to say, as it resembled a mound of hacked body parts—kept an elevator’s doors wedged open. She guessed the poor souls tried to escape when creatures attacked the top floor. A futile move, as descending would only have taken them to the same brutal end. Tinted windows lined the wall on each side of the elevator.
The fire escape door, which almost certainly led to a staircase, was ajar. A quick way down for Joey and her, but a fast way up for the creatures.
She peered across to the neighboring building on the other side. Like the apartment roof she had jumped from, it was also a story higher than the office building. There was no way off this roof if another wave of creatures swept through again. Karen couldn’t risk waiting for too long.
The simple, gut-wrenching, yet compelling answer was to move when they had a chance. She realized that meant stepping out of their hiding place, realized it was a huge risk. But it was a risk that could further preserve their lives.
But where do we go from here?
Out of the city center . . .
The countryside.
Finding refuge away from urban areas appeared like a logical option.
Farmland?
No, the creatures might begin hunting animals.
But they seem only intent on killing people.
A cabin or a beach house? Somewhere remote with views of the surrounding area?
But she figured it would only be a matter of time before the creatures spread outward, decimating the rural areas. A total annihilation demanded that course of action. And from what she had witnessed, that seemed to be their intent.
We’re being exterminated.
Karen recalled her last view of the bay. Sure, the cruise liner had been attacked in port, though it could’ve drifted from the wharf after creatures boarded. Perhaps the captain tried to set sail in a desperate attempt to get clear of the falling city. The lone survivor who’d swam from the Norwegian Pearl had no trouble making it to shore. Whether he made it out of town was another matter. But he survived . . .
The monsters cannot swim.
A boat!
Once the immediate area was clear of creatures and the city free of their screeches, Karen decided they’d risk moving to the relative safety of the water, or, at least, a safer place than here.
“Mommy,” Joey said. “What’s that smell?”
“It’s nothing, baby.”
It wasn’t nothing, though. The stench of death in San Francisco had grown stronger by the hour. Karen’s paramedic experience told her it would happen any time between twenty-four and thirty-six hours after death. Even faster for corpses rotting in the sun, and thousands of the slaughtered clogged the streets. Despite her familiarity with dead bodies, it was never on this scale, and the smell was starting to get to her, too. And that was without thinking about how it would all become a breeding ground for diseases to cut down any remaining survivors.
A single screech came from a few blocks away.
They’re still here.
After another half hour of waiting, San Francisco eventually fell deathly silent. A gentle breeze whipped over the buildings, providing some relief from the sun and the stench of death. It also carried a faint buzzing sound with it, some distance away.
What sounded like a helicopter . . .
Somebody was alive in the area.
Searching for survivors?
She scanned desperately in every direction, but couldn’t locate the chopper in the clear cobalt sky.
The buzz gradually faded, along with her hopes of rescue from this nightmare.
Dammit. We can’t just wait to die.
“Be a good boy and stay right here,” she said. “Stay quiet, too.”
“Okay. The monsters won’t see me.”
“You’re my hero, Joey. Dad would be proud.”
Joey smiled, trying to be brave, just like when he had his first flu.
Karen took a deep breath and listened intently for a few seconds.
Nothing. Still no heavy footsteps. No guttural breaths. No snarls.
Her body shook with fear as she rose to view the edge of the apartment building.
No monstrosities stood on the adjacent ledge.
Karen immediately spun and set off at a crouching run toward the break room. She raced past the pool table, ignoring the sharp pain in her ankle. Stepped around the billiard balls scattered across the parquet floor, careful not to hit any. Leaped over a butchered victim, ignoring the puddle of congealed blood. Then skidded to a stop by the tinted windows.
Dammit.
Below, on the opposite side of the street, a single creature stood outside the entrance to every building. It appeared like they were on guard, ready to pounce on anyone escaping or waiting for any sounds that gave away the location of a survivor.
For now, she and Joey remained trapped.
A creature in front of a battered garage door glanced upward.
Her heart skipped a beat, though she forced back her paranoia. Unless the creatures had x-ray vision, the glass was impenetrable to the naked eye.
What do I know about them that might help our escape?
The smaller ones appear to give orders.
But what else?
She had to know, so she crept forward again. Thankfully, the tinted window had saved them from another attack.
The creatures were focused, static. Fixed to their apparent jobs, like well-trained soldiers.
Karen glanced back at Joey.
He responded by defiantly sticking up his thumb. She waved him over.
Joey raced to her position, keeping one eye shut, the other focused on her.
“Watch out,” she whispered loudly.
Too late.
He slipped on the pool of blood and skidded facefirst through it, coming to a rest a few yards from her. His outstretched palms dripped with glistening crimson.
Joey scrambled to his feet. The front of his pale blue T-shirt and shorts were soaked. He looked down at himself and his mouth opened.
“Shhh!” Karen whispered loudly, stopping her son before he said anything. “Come here, baby,” she continued quietly. “It’s okay.”
Joey stumbled toward her, lips quivering.
Karen reached out her arms. “Come and gimme a hug.”
He staggered forward a few steps and threw his arms around her. She didn’t care about the blood. But as the sickly warmth soaked through her T-shirt as well, it was difficult not to wince. Joey was her immediate priority, despite the overwhelming odds they faced.
“It’s okay, Mommy,” he said in her ear. “We’re fighters.”
“Damn right we are, little buddy.”
Karen turned her head to view outside. Before she could focus on the street, a shrill blast split the air, deafening, like a foghorn. The floor below her feet rattled. The window shook.
Karen cradled Joey and peered downward.
The creatures outside every building suddenly raced away at lightning-fast speed toward the park at the bottom of the road. Thousands of them. All seemingly attracted to the noise. They created a circle around a grassed area, like they had raced to watch something.
In the center, a huge area of the turf exploded upward. Chunks flew through the air and rained down on the surrounding area.
Joey looked over Karen’s shoulder. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know.”
More dirt flew skyward, until a wide, spherical black hole lay in the middle of the baying mob.
Then the ground rumbled again, even stronger this time.
Something was rising out of the newly formed hole in the ground.
Something clearly of great importance.
Something bigger than any creature Karen had already seen.
Chapter Fourteen
Van Ness studied the expressions of Diego Munoz, Sarah Bowcut, and the Caffertys. All stared down wide-eyed at what they were witnessing in the massive warehouse. The color drained from their faces. The awe remained fixed.
Van Ness smirked, impressed with what he had built.
Below their feet, more than one hundred thousand identical soldiers stood perfectly lined up in rigid, crisp rows, dressed in identical black-and-gray camouflage clothing. All breathing deeply, slowly. They were most definitely human, but with an ever so slight green tinge to their skin. Rank-and-file warriors, standing indefinitely at attention, ready for the command to battle.
And every soldier looked identical to Van Ness’ head of combat operations, Franco Roux.
The planet’s—no, my ultimate creation.
Van Ness took no pleasure in this moment. These supersoldiers were never meant to be used in this way. They had been for after. Had he not been defeated underneath Paris, the creatures would already have been exterminated, and the world would have been his. But as the months ticked by as he sat in his ocean prison rig, Van Ness knew he’d eventually be back here, mobilizing these supersoldiers to save the world.
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