Obliteration

by James S. Murray

  She spotted an ambulance on the corner of Leavenworth and Jefferson, back and front doors open. She immediately rushed for it and circled to the driver’s side.

  A dead paramedic lay by the front wheel. She stepped over him and placed Joey on the passenger seat. The keys were in the ignition. She prayed the battery hadn’t gone dead and attempted to start it.

  As the engine rumbled to life, shrieks filled the street, mingling with the siren that had been switched on by the previous EMTs. She switched it off so as not to draw more attention, though the shrieks had grown louder. Closer.

  Maybe seconds away.

  Karen slammed the ambulance into drive. She punched the accelerator, the wheels momentarily spun, and they shot forward.

  She drove between the vehicles spread to her front. The edges of the ambulance crashed against a few of them, ripping side mirrors off entirely. Joey clung to his seat as the pier came into sight. Maybe only twenty seconds away, but she calculated there would be no time to stop the vehicle and get onto a boat.

  Her mind raced with what to do.

  Suddenly, something crashed on top of the ambulance roof, causing Karen to swerve and struggle to stay in control.

  A razor-sharp black tail stabbed into the cabin from above.

  Karen pushed Joey to the edge of the seat to avoid the creature’s tail. She slammed the accelerator down as far as it would go, barreling toward the wharf.

  “Get on the floor, baby!” Karen shouted out, as she scrambled to click the seat belt into place.

  She swerved the ambulance left and right, trying to break the creature free from the roof.

  “Come on, dammit!” she shouted, and cut the wheel hard.

  The tail ripped out of the metal above, and the creature’s body flung off the ambulance, leaving a gaping hole above their heads.

  There now appeared only one course of action that might save them . . . or kill them . . . but she had no choice. The lack of time dictated her decision.

  Karen sped directly for the water at the end of the pier.

  The ambulance crashed through a metal barrier, just as another creature leaped into the open back doors of the vehicle. Its bellow resonated through the cabin.

  She swerved the ambulance left and right, causing the creature to slam hard against the sides. But it was no use—the monster still advanced toward them.

  Only seconds left . . .

  “Take a deep breath and hold it, Joey!”

  The speeding ambulance destroyed everything in its path on the pier, and Karen screamed as they approached the water’s edge.

  Let’s see if this son of a bitch can swim . . .

  The ambulance flew off the edge of the wharf. The front end crashed nearly headfirst into the water, plunging her world into total darkness.

  The sudden change in momentum caused the creature behind them to fly forward uncontrollably, smacking hard against the backs of their seats.

  The front windows shattered instantly and a massive wall of water rushed inside, shocking Karen’s senses. She reached out for Joey but couldn’t locate him.

  The water slammed into the creature’s body behind them, and it thrust its tail forward into the dashboard, trying to gain any grip. The force of the water was too strong, though, and the creature shot out the back of the rapidly sinking ambulance. The frantic creature flailed its claws and tail desperately, tumbling to the bottom, drowning in the abyss.

  Karen took her last breath of air as water instantly consumed the entire cabin. She struggled to undo her seat belt and, once free, reached into the murky water to her right, trying to find her son.

  Her hand clutched his shirt near the passenger side. He had been on the floor, curled in a ball. She grabbed her son and knew they had seconds before they would be dragged down to the bottom of the bay with the creature.

  She kicked off the dashboard toward the back doors of the ambulance, Joey’s limp body clutched tightly under her left arm. She swam desperately to escape the now fully submerged vehicle, fighting her way through the dark, murky salt water, eyes stinging, lungs burning for more air, muscles aching as they worked against the descent and the weight of her son in her arm.

  The surface of the water was so close . . . she could see it brighten up ahead.

  They cleared the sinking ambulance out the back, but her muscles began to betray her.

  She could fight no more.

  Her right hand stretched out toward the surface, but their bodies began to sink.

  We’re not gonna make it . . .

  I’m so sorry, Joey. I’m so sorry. So . . .

  Suddenly, a hand grabbed her right arm tightly and yanked her and Joey upward.

  A second later, they broke the surface of the water, and Karen frantically drew in deep breaths of air.

  An HH-65 Coast Guard helicopter hovered above them with a rope and harness dangling from it. The diver who’d pulled them to safety held them firmly in his grip above the water.

  Karen’s EMT training kicked in and she immediately opened her son’s mouth, forcing air into his lungs.

  Nothing.

  She did it again.

  Joey coughed hard, ejecting the seawater from his lungs. He clutched his mom close as he drew in life-saving oxygen.

  The diver attached the harness around their three bodies. Karen and Joey held on to his body tightly. The diver gave a thumbs-up, and they lifted out of the water. The helicopter winched them upward, while slowly moving away from the pier.

  They were safe.

  As Karen looked back at the wharf, in shock at what they had just survived, a lone creature stood at the edge, eyes fixed on them, watching its prey escape.

  They were safe . . . for now.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A million questions raced through Sarah Bowcut’s mind after what Van Ness had just said.

  The creatures have a queen? If we stop her, do we stop them all?

  Can the supersoldiers kill her? If not, what then?

  But that last question seemed to be allayed for the time being. The supersoldier had efficiently dispatched the creature. Swiftly and concisely. Effortlessly. The kind of direct action the world sorely needed to combat the ongoing decimation. As much as she despised Van Ness, it was clear his army gave them a ray of hope.

  The simple fact is that we can now fight back.

  Bowcut studied her unusual colleagues. She never thought she’d be fighting a war alongside a madman, a crazy scientist, and a hundred thousand clones. Not to mention the imposing figure of Franco Roux, who stood next to her, expressionless. He’d been silent during the entire display. Relaxed, even, with no signs of the aggression she’d initially expected. The Dutchman appeared to be all business with no ax to grind.

  But we’ll see about that.

  Van Ness spun his chair toward the group.

  “Surely there are many questions,” he said. “May I suggest we head to my situation room to speak with your president Brogan so that I only need to explain myself once?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Van Ness proceeded to exit the laboratory, followed by Dr. Liander, Cafferty, Ellen, and Diego. Bowcut hung back for a moment with Roux. It might be her only chance to size the man up, to get a sense of where his loyalties lay and what his mission was.

  Bowcut and Roux exchanged glances.

  “I am aware of your actions in New York, London, and Paris,” Roux said curtly. “You’ve been trained well, and your actions were commendable.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah replied, surprised by his comments. “Unfortunately, I’m not aware of any of your past actions, so you have me at a disadvantage.”

  “We are here with a common purpose,” Roux replied. “I am a soldier. My goal is to defeat the enemy and save lives.”

  “And that’s it?” Bowcut asked, studying the man’s face for the slightest deception.

  “That is it.”

  Bowcut was a highly trained NYPD SWAT team member and came from a long family line of
cops, and, most important, she was a New Yorker. She could tell when people were bullshitting her.

  He’s not bullshitting. He’s telling the truth.

  Roux’s stern expression softened. “When the battle for San Francisco begins, I’ll need you to command along with me. You are certainly capable.”

  “You want me to help lead the supersoldiers?”

  “As I said, we are here with a common purpose,” he replied.

  As Sarah considered his proposition, a slight smile crept across her face. Roux matched her expression, the first crack she’d witnessed in his steely exterior.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Ellen followed Tom and Van Ness into a brightly lit conference room, along with Munoz. A few moments later, Bowcut and Roux caught up to the group and entered the room as well.

  A video screen at the front took up the entire wall and showed a tranquil image of the alpine countryside. It seemed oddly corporate for this kind of clandestine base, which had been built in the harshest climate on Earth and had gone undetected for years. But after seeing the chilling feat of engineering Van Ness had secretly built under Paris, nothing surprised Ellen anymore.

  Van Ness wheeled to the head of the oval conference table.

  “Kindly take a seat,” he said. “I will connect us with President Brogan on Air Force One. I hope she is more receptive this time than when we spoke last, one year ago.”

  “Something tells me she won’t be,” Ellen replied.

  The last time Brogan and Van Ness conversed, he was literally holding the world hostage and had set off nuclear bombs in two American cities. People don’t forget things like that easily.

  “We shall see,” Van Ness said. “The difference now is she and I both want the same thing. We all want the same thing. Don’t we, Thomas?”

  Cafferty replied with an uneasy nod.

  Ellen reached over and squeezed Tom’s arm. He was trying to keep his cool, but she’d known him long enough to realize that something was going on between the two men. Of course, she understood their animosity toward each other. For both her husband and Van Ness, this battle . . . everything . . . was always personal.

  But this is deeper. There’s something more he’s not telling me . . .

  It was impossible to figure out without her husband actually saying. For now, it would have to wait until they had time to talk privately.

  Van Ness pressed a button on the table.

  On the video screen, the alpine scene vanished. In its place, a map of the world flashed up on half the screen, showing different-sized red hotspots. The other half brought up a videoconferencing satellite interface.

  Ellen couldn’t take her eyes off the hundreds of hotspots around the world. These were cities where the creatures had already attacked—hundreds of cities worldwide, in nearly every country. Curiously, she noted, no attacks were present on various islands around the world, such as Hawaii, though Great Britain obviously hadn’t been spared. The events in London last year had already told them the creatures had infested that island. Still, most nests seemed to be landlocked under the continents . . . for now.

  Her thoughts drifted, as they so often did these days, to her son, David, and her parents. Thank God they were alive and safe, in the hands of the U.S. military, off the coast of Virginia. She was acutely aware that she and Tom may not survive, orphaning her son. But if he lived, wasn’t it worth it?

  Because one way or another, we have to finish this . . .

  Munoz pointed out the hotspots on the screen.

  “It looks like the creatures’ expansion has slowed in the past twenty-four hours. Why would that be?”

  “Excellent question,” Van Ness replied. “Now that they control the major cities around the world, it is possible that they are consolidating their gains and planning a second wave of attacks soon to come. What is your expression? The calm before the storm.”

  “What would the second wave of attacks be?” Munoz asked.

  “Our complete annihilation,” Van Ness replied.

  A long, loud tone pumped through the speakers on the walls as the videoconference call connected.

  Seconds later, the image of President Amanda Brogan appeared, sitting behind a long conference table inside Air Force One. Vice President Webster was to her side on a bulky brown leather seat. Both had dark shadows around their eyes, likely exhausted and frazzled by the past twenty-four hours.

  Ellen was pretty sure she looked the same to them.

  “Madam President,” Van Ness said. “I feel the last time we spoke was less than cordial. Shall we call it water under the bridge?”

  “Water under the bridge?” Brogan shot back defiantly. “You assassinated the president of the United States!”

  “In fact I did,” Van Ness replied confidently. “Yet here we are, Madam President, at a crossroads. Fate has brought us back together, you see.”

  “Fate? Are you mad?” Brogan retorted.

  “Now, now, Madam President. Shall I be more blunt? I have the means to win this war. Without me, you’re already dead.”

  “What exactly do you have, Van Ness? By our estimates, there’s already been close to a billion casualties worldwide.”

  “One-point-four billion, to be exact,” Van Ness countered. “Double that by next week, but I’m sure you already know that. I am not one to gloat, but it needs to be said. Perhaps you should have taken my deal a year ago.”

  “Enough!” Brogan shouted, leaning forward over her desk. “Tell me what your solution is.”

  Van Ness told her a brief history of the Antarctic base. How the Foundation had created a hundred thousand hybrid supersoldiers, ready for deployment. Cafferty confirmed what he had witnessed in the demonstration area.

  “I don’t see how a hundred thousand supersoldiers, as you call them, can possibly turn the tide of war,” Brogan said. “We’re vastly outnumbered.”

  “First rule of warfare, Madam President. Kill the leader, and the soldiers fall into disarray. In this case, we need to kill the queen.”

  “The queen?” Brogan asked. “These creatures have a leader?”

  “I have long since suspected, yes,” Van Ness replied. “I’ve been hunting the queen for decades, analyzing every nest around the world, tracking its size, its growth, its expansion. And I’ve come to believe the queen is nestled safely inside the largest nest in the world. The scene of the very first attack, which kicked off all the attacks around the world minutes and hours later.”

  “And where is this nest?”

  “Madam President,” Van Ness replied, “it’s time to take back San Francisco. Kill the queen, and we decimate the entire command and control structure of every nest around the world.”

  “Let’s say I believe you,” Brogan said. “If you’re able to fight your way into San Francisco, if you’re able to breach the nest, if you find the queen, can your supersoldiers defeat her?”

  Van Ness paused, considering the question carefully. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed his forehead lightly. “We’re going to find out, aren’t we?” he replied.

  A sickly look came over the president’s face. That was clearly not the answer she’d hoped for. But it was the only answer she got.

  “Tom, your thoughts?” the president asked.

  “Madam President,” Cafferty replied, “it’s the best and only chance we’ve got.”

  President Brogan looked at the vice president. He nodded in agreement. “All right then, let’s hunt down and kill that queen, no matter the cost. What do you need from us?”

  “May I introduce you to my head of command strategy, Mr. Franco Roux?” Van Ness said, deferring to his master strategist.

  “Mr. Roux,” she said.

  “Madam President,” Roux replied. “We have enough C-130 airplanes here to transport the necessary five thousand supersoldiers to the United States. While our planes have much-extended range, we will still need a complete refuel at NAMRU-6, the U.S. Navy military co
mmand center in Lima, Peru, which is approximately halfway.”

  “The U.S. does not have a military base in Peru,” Brogan interjected. “That is a medical facility.”

  “Tut-tut, Madam President,” Van Ness replied. “This is no time to lie about the true purpose of your ‘medical facility.’”

  Brogan looked away silently.

  “Carry on, Mr. Roux.”

  “Including refueling, we will land in approximately twenty hours at the Naval Air Station North Island off the coast of San Diego. Satellite images show your navy has already protected the island from the creatures.”

  Ellen caught Bowcut admiring Roux as he spoke. The man was well prepared.

  “Once off the coast of San Diego, we will transfer the supersoldiers onto the USS Nimitz, which will promptly set sail for San Francisco. In the meantime, you should send as many carrier strike groups as possible to rendezvous with us. Once in San Francisco Bay, we will launch our coordinated counterattack, utilizing both your forces and ours. I will be strategizing the offensive with Sarah Bowcut. Also, in the meantime, every country should already be sending their ships and planes to our coordinates”—he typed something into his computer—“here. We will transport all remaining supersoldiers around the world, along with weapons and technology that will be helpful in the fight.”

  “Excellent, thank you, Mr. Roux,” Brogan said, clearly impressed with the man. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, ma’am, one more thing,” Roux added. “Madam President, we will find that queen and we will kill her.”

  For the first time in a while, Ellen felt like she might actually see her son, David, again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bowcut and Munoz walked with Dr. Liander and Roux down a wide internal ramp toward a stark staging area with smooth bedrock walls and concrete flooring. Nothing cosmetic included, Munoz thought. Small white vehicles—like the ones that buzzed around an airport—drove past them in a regular stream, each loaded with various supplies. Their electric engines filled the corridor with a continuous whine, along with the distant beeps of reversing industrial transport vehicles.