“With pleasure,” Corrin said.
While the Chimera dealt with the collaborator, the rest of the Team worked on freeing the others. As the group of liberated human prisoners grew, those strong enough started to help. Ghost shared the extra provisions and water they had brought, helping to rejuvenate the prisoners even just a little.
“What’s your plan?” Esparza asked.
Fitz handed her a rifle they had taken from a Chimera. “We fight, and you help us.”
The woman wiped blood and dirt from her face and smiled. But Dohi noticed some of the freed prisoners looking at Corrin skeptically.
“What the fuck is this beast doing with you?” asked one of the men.
“He’s with us,” Fitz said.
“You trust this… thing?”
“He’s the reason we found you all,” Rico said.
“You all owe him your life,” Fitz said.
Esparza turned to the others. “This is Team Ghost. You’ve heard the stories. You know what they’ve done. If they trust this Chimera, we should too.”
A few of the released prisoners grunted their agreement. The man who had initially voiced his concern over Corrin gave a reluctant nod.
“Keep working,” Fitz said. “We need all the help we can get.”
“Are we getting reinforcements?” one of the prisoners asked.
“You’re looking at them,” Dohi said. “Everyone else is fighting for survival in Galveston. There’s barely anything else left of the Allied States except that island and us tonight.”
“Jesus Christ,” another prisoner said. “Do we have more guns than the ones you brought?”
“We’re going to have to get more,” Rico said.
Corrin pointed down the corridor. “There are more weapons in here.”
“An armory?” Fitz asked.
“No, beasts like me,” Corrin said.
“Dohi, go with Corrin to release them,” Fitz said. “Rico and I will organize the others.”
Dohi and Corrin hurried toward the other end of the accelerator. He searched down his scope again to ensure no guards had entered the facility yet.
They stopped when they reached the section where the Fallen Chimeras were secured against the walls. Their scarred bodies were wrapped in even more glue and vines than the normal humans.
The golden eyes of the first prisoner watched. A patch of glue adhered to his sucker lips prevented him from talking.
As soon as Dohi pried off the strip with his knife, the Chimera screamed in his face, forcing Dohi back.
“Quiet,” he said.
“Just kill me!” the creature wailed. “I won’t work for you any longer!”
Corrin jumped over to help. “It’s okay. We’re friends. We’ve come to free you.”
The Chimera glared at him, then back at Dohi. For a moment, Dohi worried he was going to have to kill the beast.
The Chimera’s face remained in a snarl, saliva dripping from his teeth. Other Chimeras covered in webbing watched, their golden eyes studying Corrin and Dohi.
“We’re here to free you.” Dohi turned to speak to all of them. “We need your help to fight back against the New Gods.”
He faced the first Chimera again.
“Join us,” Corrin said. “We might not win against the New Gods, but we will die fighting as free…”
“Men,” Dohi said.
The creature held his gaze and nodded.
Dohi finished cutting him down, and Corrin started on the others, using his claws to tear through the tendrils imprisoning them. Ten minutes later, a growing group of freed beasts had started to cut down the rest of the Fallen Chimeras. Some spoke in low growling voices, musing about their newfound chance at revenge.
Dohi counted twenty-five freed Chimeras when the doors to the other end of the linear accelerator opened. All of them turned to a group of six collaborators who rushed in with weapons. The collaborators stopped in their tracks when they saw the freed horde.
“You want revenge?” Corrin said. “Now’s your chance!”
The group rushed toward the collaborators. None of the men even bothered to fire. They turned and ran, their terrified screams echoing throughout the facility. Dohi aimed his rifle and shot their legs one by one.
The Chimeras caught up to the collaborators writhing in agony on the ground, tearing into their flesh. Blood splashed across the floor as the beasts got their first taste of revenge.
With the other freed prisoners behind them, Fitz and Rico caught up to Dohi. The three of them picked up the collaborators’ weapons and began handing them out. Rifles. Pistols. Knives. And even a machete.
“You have your army, Master Sergeant,” Corrin said to Fitz. “Now put us to use.”
— 23 —
Sirens wailed over the constant patter of rain. But above the clamor, Kate heard the faint voices of those injured in the bat attacks screaming throughout the hospital. She was a few floors below, in the hospital’s former clinical laboratory, but their cries carried through the vents.
While most of the patients were receiving intensive medical care, including the use of respirators and ventilators to keep them stable, those who were most ill wouldn’t ever recover without the right antidote. That was something she and her team could help with. In an isolated portion of the lab, Leslie and Ron had already prepared reagents for assays to analyze samples from the gas attack.
Kate was in the main section of the lab with Sammy to monitor the remote computer stations left connected to the webbing in Houston. Although they couldn’t decrypt the signals flowing through the network, they could monitor the total volume of signal activity.
On the other side of the lab, engineers monitored reports from the seismic detection sensors installed around Houston and Galveston.
Kate supervised it all, going from station to station. She was back with Sammy when the door burst open. A combat medic entered, sweat dripping down her face. Her ACU was covered in blood and ash. She carried a tray filled with small plastic vials.
Ron emerged from the isolated section of the laboratory when he saw her.
“Dr. Lovato, we’ve got the first set of blood samples,” the medic said. “We’ve already used Mark 1 NAAKs on all the patients, but the docs want to be sure we’re doing the right thing.”
Kate handed the tray to Ron. He rushed them back into the isolated section of the lab where they had prepared the standard point-of-care blood analysis assays to detect potential toxins.
“Those nerve agent-antidote kits have 2-PAM chloride, diazepam, and atropine, right?” she asked.
“Yes, Doctor,” the medic answered.
“So long as this is just a normal nerve agent, we should be in the clear.”
“But if it isn’t…” the combat medic shifted nervously. “How long does this take?”
“Just a few minutes,” Kate said. “These tests were developed well before the Great War in response to potential nerve agent attacks in the Persian Gulf War. They’re designed to be quick.”
“Good. The doctors want answers now. At least fifty patients we brought here are in serious condition.”
“What do the symptoms look like?”
“Nausea, vomiting. A large portion of the patients reported intense pain in their muscles, and many are having trouble controlling their limbs.”
Those were all symptoms of a nerve agent. Kate wanted to scream. The evil of the Prophet and his army was unmatched by any of the creatures or men she had faced in the past.
“All we can do now is watch for new symptoms until we get definitive answers,” she said.
Ron emerged from the isolated portion of the laboratory after another few minutes. “I’ve got the results from the first blood samples.”
He handed her a printed-out page.
Kate skimmed the report. “We can confirm organophosphate poisoning in all these samples. Definitely a nerve agent.” She scrolled through the report. “We’re looking at soman.”
“Soman, got it,” the medic said. “The 2-PAM chloride and atropine will knock it out then.”
“Good,” Kate said. “We’ll continue looking at the blood samples to make sure there’s not something else in there that we missed.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” the medic said, hurrying out of the lab.
“Good luck.” Kate was glad to have helped, but she knew the death and misery had just started. Soon they would be dealing with the injuries from gunfire and claws that she had seen far too many times.
As if in answer, a thunderous boom shook the hospital. She braced herself, waiting for an explosion.
One of the computers chirped, indicating a seismic disturbance.
“Just thunder,” said the engineer monitoring the screen. “The storm is messing with our equipment, but that’s all it is.”
Kate exhaled. “Ron, I want you and Leslie to continue processing the blood samples. Just because we found soman in the first few doesn’t mean that’s the only thing the New Gods were using. Check for other biological agents or weaponized pathogens.”
“You got it,” Ron said, then returned to the isolated portion of the lab.
Kate moved to the section of the lab where the team of engineers were monitoring seismic disturbances.
“Have you picked up anything unusual?” Kate asked.
“No, Dr. Lovato,” the engineer replied. “The only seismic activity we detected was from the explosions hammering the ground around Galveston. After that, it’s been quiet except for this storm.”
So far, it seemed the New Gods hadn’t been tunneling into the ground anywhere near Houston or Galveston.
Cries sounded from the hallway, and Kate looked up just as another gurney was pushed past by two paramedics. A patient on it writhed in pain, covered in blood and blackened skin.
Kate’s thoughts rushed back to the shelter where Javier, Tasha, and Jenny were. She had checked in with Connor twice now, and he had reported they had been safe from the blasts and the gas. That knowledge did nothing to assuage the dark feelings hanging over her mind like the storm over Galveston.
She went to Sammy’s station, trying to keep focused. “How many teams have delivered their anthrax samples?”
“So far, six,” Sammy said. “I’m seeing a slight reduction in network signals. You think it’s working?”
“We won’t know for sure unless we can kill off more of the webbing. The infection isn’t instantaneous, so it’s no surprise that it’s taking a while.” Kate looked at the computer. “Can you quantify the damage we’ve done to the network?”
“Keep in mind, the situation is evolving, but as the bacteria propagates, so too does the signal attenuation. I’m noticing a drop off in the overall number of signals at about five percent right now.”
“That’s not much at all.”
“No, it isn’t,” Sammy said.
“We only have a couple hours until dawn and the New Gods show,” Kate said.
The color drained from Sammy’s face. Kate had a feeling she knew what Sammy was thinking.
“If at least a few more of those teams don’t get their injections into the webbing soon, it’s not going to make much of a difference for us, is it?” Kate asked.
“Correct,” Sammy said coldly.
Kate clenched her jaw out of anger. She had truly thought their work would have a more substantial impact tonight, but it seemed their efforts might not really affect the network until after the fighting was over.
Sammy looked like she was about to say something, but the radio next to her computer buzzed to life.
“Doctor Lovato, this is Commander Jacobs. We’re confirming Recon Omega is reporting another successful injection. They’re now returning home.”
“Good,” Kate replied. “Can I have a sitrep on the other teams?”
“Recon Tango and Recon Oscar are confirmed KIA. November and Kilo are MIA, but last transmissions indicate probable KIA. We lost contact with Recon Delta and Echo. Sigma is still out there, but ran into hostiles. They’ve been radio silent since.”
Kate clenched her jaw again at the mention of Sigma. That was Horn and Timothy’s team.
She shook away her fear and decided the only thing she could do right now was believe they were still alive. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing them both.
“That’s not enough,” Sammy whispered. “It won’t cause a collapse if we don’t get at least another bolus injected.”
Kate stared at the map of the planned injection sites on the monitor. The dot representing Recon Sigma’s target glowed red.
“There’s still hope,” Kate said. “If Sigma is out there, they’ll come through.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Sammy said, sounding dejected.
“Horn and Timothy know what they’re doing. They have to survive. We’ve just got to trust them.”
She said it as much to convince herself as Sammy.
Another chirping computer pulled Kate’s attention away from Sammy’s computer, and she rushed over to the engineering team.
“Is it the thunder again?” she asked.
Stepping between two of the engineers, she watched spikes of seismic activity scrolling across the screen.
“No,” one of the engineers replied. “This is happening across the northwest side of Houston. If I’m reading this right, we’ve got at least five separate groups of Variants traveling through the tunnels and making new ones.”
“Inform command,” Kate said.
The engineer nodded to another man who picked up the radio.
Kate looked at a map of Houston and Galveston that showed the epicenters of the detected seismic activity. One of these points was moving close to the Woodlands, toward the northwest of Houston right where Timothy and Horn were supposed to be.
The second wave of the New Gods’ attack was coming, and they were right in the path.
***
“Recon Sigma, this is Command,” a communications officer said over Timothy’s radio. “Seismic activity confirmed near your position. Variants headed your way, ETA ten mikes.”
“Sigma One, copy,” Horn replied.
“Be advised, you’re the last team in the field. We’re all counting on you.”
“Copy,” Horn said.
Timothy caught his gaze.
“You heard ’em, it’s up to us,” Horn said. “And we’re not going to disappoint.”
Rain fell over them in waves as they continued to follow the trail of clawed footprints in the mud. Blood covering the smashed grass showed where the beasts had dragged Boyd away. The sheer amount told Timothy that his friend was no longer alive. But hopefully he still had the anthrax they needed to inject in the webbing.
Timothy thought he felt the ground rumble slightly beneath his feet. He hoped it was just his mind playing tricks on him and command was right about them having a full ten minutes.
He gripped his rifle in his soaked gloves and angled the barrel down the path. It led them into a neighborhood and over the front yards of two houses.
Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning cutting through the sky.
They passed through another line of trees, following the trail through a yard of overgrown grass. Horn motioned for them to get down at the sound of squawking and scratching claws on the adjacent street. Timothy ducked low in the cover of the overgrown grass. He crept through the grass with Horn to get a better look.
Next to a rusted-out pickup truck nearly a hundred yards down the street, Timothy could make out three twisted shapes headed north. They were dragging a large body behind them.
“They still have Boyd with them,” Timothy said. He brought his rifle up just as the beasts started to disappear behind a minivan. “Can’t get a clear shot now.”
“We got to take them out before they get wherever they’re headed,” Horn replied.
He signaled to the backyard of the house. They ran hard to cut off the Variants. After passing by rotting decks and rusted swing sets, they raced back to the front yard
of another house.
They took up firing positions between two cars parked side-by-side on a driveway, and Timothy flipped up his NVGs to peer down his scope.
The three creatures skittered toward them, still a couple hundred yards from the south. They had plenty of time to set an ambush.
As Timothy centered his sights on the first Variant, he noticed a collar around its neck.
“You were right,” he said to Horn. “Someone’s controlling these Thralls. As soon as we open fire, whoever’s in charge of them is going to come after us.”
Horn readied his M249, setting up its bipod on the hood of one car, aiming north. “I’ll deal with the collaborators or whoever the hell else might be here if they show up. You take the beasts down.”
“You’re sure?”
“We got no other choice, kid.”
Timothy aimed at the diseased flesh of the lead monster dragging Boyd. A hot anger rushed through him, and he squeezed the trigger.
Rounds punched through the chest of the monster, and the grotesque mutant collapsed to the wet asphalt next to Boyd.
The other two creatures let out furious roars and got down on all fours. Timothy lined up his sights and held in a breath as they barreled toward him.
He squeezed a burst off into one of the beasts, rounds lancing into its barreled chest and limbs. Blood sprayed from the devastating wounds as it tumbled over itself, skidding across the asphalt.
Before he could adjust his aim for the third monster, gunfire north of their position exploded behind him. He had been right. The assholes controlling the Variants weren’t far. Rounds pinged against the car where Horn had propped up his M249.
The heavy thump of the machine gun was nearly deafening, drowning out the shrieks of the monster galloping toward Timothy.
His world narrowed down the scope of his rifle. He took another breath and squeezed the trigger. The bullet found the target, but the creature still kept coming.
“What the fuck,” Timothy said.
He centered his aim again with the Variant only a few yards away. The burst finally knocked it off course, and it slid across the ground.
Extinction Cycle: Dark Age Box Set | Books 1-4 Page 124