“How much ammo you got?” Dohi asked Mendez.
“I only fired the shot that saved your ass.”
“Good, we’re going to need it,” Rico said.
The trio set off between rusting vehicles and piles of debris from battle-damaged buildings. They didn’t stop until they got to the steel fences of the St. Anthony’s Falls Visitor Center.
The center overlooked the rumbling falls in the middle of the Mississippi. Mendez and Rico took seats, both covered in sweat. She lifted her binos and scoped the dormant black smokestacks of the University of Minnesota steam plant across the river.
After a brief rest, Dohi again moved in front of the group. He traversed a stone arch bridge leading Mendez and Rico toward the opposite shore. Dark bloodstains covered the bridge halfway across.
Crossing here was already dangerous with no cover, and seeing others had died trying made him jumpy. The group ran all the way across and bolted for the shelter of trees in the park on the other side. From there, they cut through the area and used the cover on the side of a rough asphalt road to advance.
Distant howls cut through the morning.
Dohi balled his hand into a fist, and all three of the soldiers crouched down in the swaying grass. He waited there for several minutes listening to the wind, sensing something out there.
But nothing moved.
Traipsing around in Variant territory had him on edge every second, and his frayed nerves were paying the price.
Rising to his feet, Dohi motioned for the team to continue. They jogged to train tracks covered by mud and foliage until the University of Minnesota campus buildings sprouted into view. Blackened husks of vehicles clotted the streets between the brick-faced buildings. Variants climbed over fallen trees leaning over the roads. Normally the limbs might have cracked under the weight of a beast, but not these famished creatures. Their wart-covered faces were sunken around their skulls, and their eyes bulged, scanning frantically across the ruins for food.
Through his binos, Dohi spotted more of the thin red spindles stretching out of the debris in the distance. The scree framed the road, some of it scattered over the asphalt. In the center of the street, red vines curved out of an open manhole.
If the webbing aboveground here was any indication, then he had a feeling they were about to uncover more of what he had seen in the stadium when they went underground.
He led the team around several Variants fighting over rats. Some had reverted to chomping on their own flesh. The variety of scents helped mask Team Ghost as they made their way toward the rally point with Team Alpha.
A Variant sat perched in front of the theater like a statue. Dohi considered taking it out but decided in favor of stealth, heading for the side entrance. He made his way to the loading docks where two semi-trucks were parked. The back doors were open as if someone were still moving cargo in and out of the building.
He stopped to listen and then gestured for the others to join him. They hurried around the trucks, up a ramp, and into the Northrop building.
From there they crossed a storage room full of soggy, collapsed cardboard boxes and wooden crates nearly devoured by termites. He moved through an open door into a hallway where his hair stood on end, energy practically radiating off the red webbing growing on the walls.
He stepped onto the tissue and continued forward. Skeletal remains hung from the walls. From the looks of it, these animals and humans had been dead for a long time.
A quake suddenly vibrated through the building. Dohi shouldered his rifle, ready for something to come charging but, after a few seconds, the quaking stopped. The webbing contracted and relaxed, seemingly beating in concert with his heart.
Clicking joints echoed down the corridors along with the tapping of claws against tile. Intense waves of a fetid odor swarmed into the passage.
The sounds faded away and Dohi signaled for the others to duck low. They found shelter behind a door leading to a dressing area furnished with broken chairs and powder stains. Shattered mirrors lay amid a pile of rotting costumes, webs growing over the once colorful outfits.
A few more seconds of silence passed.
“What are we doing?” Mendez asked.
Dohi couldn’t explain why he took cover here. Something felt off, and his gut told him to wait. Rico went to move, but Dohi stopped her.
“Hold on,” he whispered.
Mendez and Rico both crouched and brought up their rifles, clearly on edge now. They remained there for several minutes, listening, but the beasts remained silent.
Dohi finally decided he was being paranoid and went to give the forward signal when a vicious roar exploded through the corridors. The thunderous voice seemed to rattle through the webbing and right through Dohi, awakening feelings of primal fury and hunger. Adrenaline churned through his blood vessels.
What is happening to me?
The roar subsided with the vibrating.
Dohi blinked away sweat dripping into his eyes. That ungodly roar must have had something to do with whatever Fitz had discovered down here.
Rico gestured for them to advance. They crept past a few corridors filled with sleeping Variants. Another turn into a wider corridor, and then a final door led them to the rally point.
They entered a classroom where Fitz, Ace, and Lincoln huddled in the darkness. The men all rose, and Fitz strode across the room and wrapped his arms around Rico, pulling her close to his chest. The others greeted each other quietly with smiles.
After the short reunion, Fitz signaled he would take point.
“Wait,” Dohi whispered. “Do you know about the juveniles?”
Fitz raised a brow. “What juveniles?”
“We saw them last night at the stadium,” Rico whispered. “Hundreds of them.”
Lincoln and Ace both stepped closer.
“Hell no,” Lincoln muttered. “I don’t believe it. No way those diseased fucks are breeding again.”
“It’s true,” Dohi said. “I saw it.”
Lincoln shook his head, and Ace did the same.
“You’re sure?” Ace asked.
Dohi and Rico nodded.
“Do you have footage for command?” Fitz asked eagerly.
“No, we hardly escaped,” Rico said.
“But you know they’re in the stadium?” Fitz asked.
“Yes,” Dohi responded.
“Fuck,” Fitz said. “I think this is worth breaking radio silence for, but first I want to show you guys what we found. Might as well send it to command, too.”
“What did you find?” Rico asked.
“Something more unbelievable than the juveniles. You’ll have to see it yourself.”
He led Team Ghost out of the classroom and up a set of stairs to the main auditorium. The scattering of Variant claws came from all directions. Squawks and shrieks filled the performing arts center.
Team Ghost crept behind the back row of seats, staying low in the shadows. Webs covered the stage and roped down from the ceiling, stretching from the balconies above them toward a monstrosity on the stage.
Holes in the ceiling let the meager moonlight bathe a monster unlike any Dohi had ever seen. Hundreds of vines connected to a bulbous red abomination on the stage.
The body looked somewhat humanoid, with limbs as big and wide as a redwood tree. Flesh drooped over its body in huge pink folds, making it look like a gigantic brain.
Dohi assumed the creature’s real brain was located somewhere in a squat and flat head with unblinking eyes the size of a giant squid’s.
The creature moved, pulling on the hundreds of red fibers and stretching them like cords. It let out a long groan while the webbings attached to its chest contracted. The movement caused a chain reaction among the vines stretched out into the auditorium.
Variants suddenly burst onto the stage and swarmed the monstrosity’s body like worker ants on a queen. They shoved hunks of flesh into the open massive maw with fanged teeth.
An old Native American
saying came to Dohi’s mind.
No river can return to its source, yet all rivers must have a beginning.
He had found the beginning of this river in the tunnels below Outpost Turkey, and now he saw the source was more terrible than he could have imagined.
The abomination seemed to be the ultimate evolution of Alpha Variants, a creature so powerful and strangely intelligent it had spread itself across the country through the growths of those webs, devouring every living thing in its path.
“That’s what we came here for,” Fitz whispered. “We have to get this info back to command and Doctor Lovato.”
“Fuck that, I say we kill it,” Ace said quietly.
“How we going to kill that thing?” Lincoln whispered. “It’s got a freaking army protecting it.”
Dohi agreed with Ace this time but, he knew if they did kill it, there was no way Team Ghost would get out of here alive.
***
A gunshot split the Texas sky, and a Variant making a run for the hills hit the dirt in a puff of dust and blood splatter.
Fischer lowered his rifle and took in a breath of smoky air.
“That’s the last one,” said Tran.
Fischer scanned the area around the derrick to confirm he was correct, and then motioned for his men to gather around. They had held the beasts back from this derrick, protecting it for the past few hours while the sun rose over the burning Texas oilfields.
The exhausted team of eleven men huddled in the dirt like a football team that had just lost a game in overtime. The face of every soldier was covered in streaks of soot and blood from the ten-hour battle.
Fischer reached up and wiped his cheek clean, his hand coming back with blood. He wasn’t even sure if it was human or monster. The fighting had killed many on both sides.
While his men had cleared this area, there were still Variants out there threatening the other derricks. He feared his engineers would stop the burning oil only to have the beasts come back at night to attack them again.
Assuming the engineers would even risk their lives to do that.
He no longer blamed his men for fleeing.
Fischer scanned the bodies sprawled in the dirt and grass around the derrick they’d saved. Protecting this one had cost them gravely. Amongst the corpses of the beasts were several people that had succumbed to their wounds. Fischer and his men hadn’t been able to reach them to provide aid.
One of Sergeant Sharp’s men lay on his back, his hands still around his neck where a Variant had ripped open his jugular vein. Lifeless eyes stared up at the oily black clouds streaking the light blue sky.
Fischer bent down to close his eyelids.
He stood and faced the others after letting out a quiet sigh. The fatigued and injured men awaited his orders. The way he saw it, he had two options.
Tell them to retreat to the ranch or continue hunting the beasts.
If they chose the latter, they would likely be on their own from here on out. Sergeant Sharp had fought valiantly and impressed Fischer in his commitment to the oil fields, but his request to command for reinforcements had been delayed multiple times, despite losing half his men.
“Any word on those reinforcements?” Fischer asked, just to be sure.
Sharp frowned. “They said they’re working it, but that it’s a shit sandwich out there.”
Fischer had a feeling that was going to be the response.
We’re on our own, indeed.
“What do we do now, sir?” Tran asked.
Fischer took another moment to think before replying.
“These attacks aren’t random,” he said. “We’ve known that for a while now. I thought we killed the Alpha causing most of our problems, but now I’m certain there are multiple Alphas. We’re going to have to kill them all if we want to save Fischer Fields.”
None of the men replied, and even Chase, who was normally gung-ho for whatever Fischer suggested, looked at the dirt. The two engineers, armed with weapons instead of tools, both avoided eye contact.
“I’ll understand if you want to stand down,” Fischer said. “But I’m going out there to find and kill them. I haven’t given my blood, sweat, and tears for this land to let it be taken over by the beasts.”
He walked over to the truck, ignoring the hushed conversations behind him. If no one came with him, he wouldn’t be surprised, nor would he be mad.
These men had already proven their loyalty and bravery by standing with him for the past ten hours.
“I ain’t letting my men die in vain,” came a voice.
Fischer turned back to the group.
Sergeant Sharp stepped forward. “I’ll keep fighting, but we’re going to have to get dirty if we want to find those Alphas.”
Several other men exchanged glances.
Tran wiped grime off his face with a sleeve. “I’m with you, sir. I got nothing else to lose.”
“Me, too,” Chase said.
“You’re probably going to need our help,” said someone at the back of the group. The two-man team of trackers Fischer had hired also stepped out.
“That is, so long as you keep payin’,” said Eric Welling. He brushed his long hair from his eyes to look at his partner, Aaron Galinsky.
The former Israeli military soldier chomped on tobacco. He spat a glob in the dirt. “We’ll find the beasts in the tunnels,” said Galinsky.
“Hell yes,” Fischer drawled.
He pulled a cigar out of his vest pocket. While he had been saving it for a victory, he decided to go ahead and smoke it just in case he never returned from the tunnels. He knew the odds of coming back out weren’t good.
“Grab some food, water, and ammo,” Tran said. “How about we move out in fifteen minutes, sir?”
Fischer nodded as he lit the cigar and took a puff. He shed most of his gear into the back of his pickup truck, keeping only his body armor and the vest. Then he stuffed fresh magazines into the slots.
He looked back at the bed of the truck for the crate of TNT. He placed a few clusters of sticks into his vest, and Chase did the same.
“Here, sir, better have a drink,” Tran said. He offered a bottle of water, and Fischer downed half of it.
“Thanks.”
The men loaded up the bodies of the fallen into the back of one of the other trucks. Fischer walked over to help Sharp and two of his soldiers pick up the private with the torn neck. They gently put him into the back of a pickup.
“RIP, kid,” Sharp said. He crossed his chest and looked up to the sky before heading over to his Humvee.
Fischer stayed there a moment, looking down at the young man that had given his life in the fight for the oil fields.
“I’m sorry,” Fischer whispered.
Sharp patted the side of his Humvee, indicating he was ready to roll.
“Alright, let’s move!” Chase yelled.
Welling and Galinsky climbed into their rust-pocked Toyota pickup. The oversized tires kicked up dirt as it peeled away.
Fischer followed in his pickup, leaving behind the grisly scene of the battle. He glanced over at Tran and then back at Chase.
“I appreciate you boys sticking with me,” he said. “I’ll make sure you’re rewarded for your loyalty.”
“I appreciate that, sir, but what I really want is a vacation,” Tran said, with a slight smile.
Chase smirked at the suggestion. “The Caribbean sounds pretty damn nice right about now.”
“Hell, I’d be happy going anywhere there aren’t monsters,” Tran said.
“Once we get rid of them here, I’ll take you boys on a nice trip in the private jet and we can be on the beach.”
“I’m assuming this is a BYOB beach?” Tran said.
Fischer chuckled.
“I almost feel bad for the beasts now,” Chase said. “Any monsters standing between me and an ice-cold beer with sand between my toes is going down faster than a ten-dollar hooker.”
Fischer laughed again, but the laughter trailed o
ff faster this time. He gripped the wheel tighter and turned onto another road. The lead truck gunned it toward the livestock barns.
The trucks drove past the ranch and Fischer snuck a glance, almost too scared to look at his house. But it didn’t appear to have sustained any damage.
He would check on Maddie and the rest of his staff later in the bunker. If they had stayed inside, they would be fine. For that he was at least thankful. But his prized herds of cattle and other livestock were likely all dead by now.
The three trucks parked on the dirt road outside the fenced off barns. Fischer hopped out, and grabbed his rifle from the bed of the pickup. Sharp walked up to the fence, staring at the blood-stained grass on the other side.
Not a single animal or human was left inside.
“Where did all the bodies go?” Tran asked, looking back.
“Variants took ’em all underground, of course,” Galinsky said.
“Let’s go,” Fischer said. He led the way to the open gates and moved toward the first barn. The side door was broken off and laying in the dirt.
Chase and Tran shouldered their weapons and slipped inside the dark barn. Fischer went next, using a hand to swat away a swarm of flies. The buzzing sound echoed inside the hot room, and he brought up his bandana to keep out the reek of rotting flesh.
It hardly helped.
Crimson blots of gore marked the walks, and blood pooled across the dirt.
Just like outside, Fischer didn’t see a single body.
Welling and Galinsky moved ahead of the group toward the tunnel opening at the far side of the room. They passed several pens, the troughs red with blood and the hay speckled with dried flesh.
Galinsky bent down at the edge of the tunnel and spit out another glob of tobacco. Then he looked up and motioned for Fischer.
Keeping his bandana over his face, Fischer stepped up to the edge of the tunnel that sloped downward. Red webbing grew on the walls inside, but it was the limbs, hunks of meat, and a full calf stuck to the wall that caused him to rear back.
“What in the holy hell,” said Tran.
Chase bent down, a sleeve covering his face from the smell.
“Jesus Christ,” Sharp said.
Fischer looked down at the red sticks of TNT in his vest. His gut told him to just toss them inside and blow the hole, but in his head, he knew the only way to prevent another atrocity like this was to find the Alphas and make them pay.
Extinction Cycle: Dark Age Box Set | Books 1-4 Page 27