Extinction Age (24 page)

“Everyone out!” he shouted.

“Boss, I can—” Horn began to say.

“Get out of the fucking truck!”

Beckham opened the driver door and waved Mikesell back inside
the power plant. He hurried to the backseat and helped Horn pull Sawyer out.
When everyone was inside the plant, Horn slammed the door.

They were stranded, trapped underground for the second time
since the sewers of New York. And this time, Beckham didn’t think they’d ever
see daylight again.

Kate looked through the window
cresting the door to Holding Cell 2.
I did what you said, Michael,
she
thought, remembering her mentor’s final words back in Atlanta.
I created a
weapon to kill every last one of the monsters.

The Variant lying chained to the floor was nearly dead.
Rashes and open sores decorated its skin like polka dots. A wall of pink vomit
had formed on the concrete where it had thrown up what looked a lot like
stomach lining. The creature was nearing the final stages, and in a few minutes
it would join the other two Variants that had already died. Plum Island would
be monster free.

Ellis nudged Kate softly. “Ever wonder who these things were
before the outbreak?” Ellis asked.

“I have tried very hard not to think that way.”

“Me too.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I think we did it,
Kate. I’m feeling pretty good. The Variants are dying. All we have to do now
is—”

The door to the hallway burst open, and Cooper and Berg
rushed inside.

“Doctors,” Berg said, stopping to catch his breath.

Cooper continued down the hall, speaking as he walked. “Dr.
Lovato, Dr. Ellis, we just got word from Colonel Wood that Central Command has
fallen. General Kennor has been killed.”

“What? How?” Kate spluttered. “Who’s in charge now?”

“Not sure,” Berg said. “Things are chaotic over the net. All
we know is that Colonel Wood is en route to the island. He should be here in a
few minutes and will be able to provide a full report.”

Kate’s heart skipped a beat. If Wood was in charge now, she
wasn’t sure what would happen.

“There’s something else,” Cooper said. “Bravo team just
reported in. They’re on their way back to the island with a full supply of
chemotherapeutics. Alpha and Charlie, however, are trapped inside Raven Rock
Mountain Complex. Their status is unknown at this time.”

 The words hit Kate hard. She could taste the stomach
acid churning in the pit of her gut. She couldn’t lose Beckham now. Not when
they were so close to…

To what?

The world was dying. Command was gone and no one seemed to
know who was in charge. There were much bigger problems in the world than
losing Beckham, but she couldn’t bear the thought of fighting on without him.

The sound of heavy boots in the other hallway pulled Kate
back to reality. Lieutenant Colonel Jensen and Major Smith rounded the corner
and strode through the open doors to the holding cell corridor.

Jensen stopped to stare at the Variant and then faced the
doctors. “Kate—Dr. Lovato,” he said, correcting himself. “Colonel Wood has
requested to see you both when he returns.”

Patient 2 let out an abrupt screech that was so loud Kate
clutched her chest. She could feel her heart thumping so hard it felt like it
was going to burst from her ribcage and plop into her hand. And not just
because of the monster dying on the other side of the glass. The world was
crumbling around Plum Island, and Beckham was stuck out there, again, because
of the weapon she had designed.

-24-

B
eckham ran through a maze of mechanical
equipment. The door to the facility rattled behind them as the Variants
continued their unyielding assault on the steel. It sounded like a mad miner
beating on a wall with a sledgehammer.

“Who knows this place?” Beckham shouted over the noise.

“Ted does,” Mikesell said.

Beckham halted in front of a row of generators and scanned
the survivors as Chow, Lombardi, and Horn set up a perimeter. Six faces covered
in grime stared back at him. An African American woman wearing a white dress
shirt with a US flag pin and black trousers caught Beckham’s attention. Her gray
hair was pulled back in a bun, and when she saw him looking at her, she
straightened her back. Her brown eyes flared with something Beckham couldn’t
place. Was it confidence? Strength? He could tell she was important, perhaps a
politician or a high-level bureaucrat, but he didn’t have time to find out
right now.

“Which one of you is Ted?” he asked.

A middle-aged man wearing thick, black-rimmed glasses pushed
his way to the front of the civilians.

“Me,” the man said. “I know this plant better than anyone.”

“Good,” Beckham said. “Because you’re going to show us a way
out.”

Ted pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes before
slipping them back on. He glanced at Beckham and then at the steel door the
Variants were continuing to hammer. “I…I don’t…”

Beckham snapped his fingers. “Ted, I need you to tell me how
to get out of here.”

Ted looked away from the rattling doors and said, “There’s an
access tunnel carved into the rock that leads to the reservoir. It’s the only
way that doesn’t take us back out to the inner roadway, but it’s also where
those things built their nest.”

“Hopefully they’ve all left the lair,” Chow said.

Horn snorted and said, “You’re telling us that’s the only way
around them?”

“Yes, that’s the only way,” Ted said.

 “Show me,” Beckham said. “Big Horn, I want you on rear
guard. Everyone else, on me.”

Ted waved the group deeper into the plant. Beckham shouldered
his rifle and played the muzzle over the equipment as they ran.

“Stay close,” Beckham said. “And keep quiet.”

They passed through a room full of generators and into
another one packed with pumps, air handling units, and boilers.

“This way,” Ted said. He crossed to a door with a sign that
read
Danger. Confined Space. Enter By Permit Only.
He pulled a ring of keys
from his pocket and thumbed through them. He picked a key and was reaching
toward the lock when Beckham stopped him. The Variants had already flanked them
once, and Beckham wanted to be sure there wasn’t anything on the other side of
the door.

“Out of the way,” Beckham said. He placed an ear against the
metal and listened. The pounding and shrieks of the Variants at the entrance to
the plant made it difficult to hear anything else, but he heard nothing to
indicate the monsters were waiting on the other side of the door.

“Unlock it,” Beckham ordered. He raised his M4 and aimed it
at the door as Ted inserted the key. The engineer glanced back at the group
uncertainly.

Beckham nodded, and Ted opened the door.

“On me,” Beckham said. He went first, arching his rifle over
the space. The dimly lit corridor was empty. Nothing but damp rock the color of
sand. A network of cables and evenly spaced lights snaked across the ceiling.

“Move,” Beckham said. He hugged the walls, using the orange
glow from the lights to guide him through the narrow passage. Water dropped
from cracks in the rock and collected in puddles on the ground.  

Beckham’s heart rate increased with every step—each one
closer to the lair. Memories of the nest he’d pulled Meg from in New York surfaced
on his mind. He was moving on pure adrenaline, his actions controlled by
experience and his internal processor. There was nothing he could do but count
on it to keep him and his people alive.

He stopped at a crooked sign marking the reservoir, which
hung from a door coated in rust and grime at the next corner. Standing and
staring wasn’t going to get them home any faster. After a few seconds of
silence, he motioned Ted forward.

 “Big Horn, get up here,” Beckham said. If there were
Variants still in the nest, he wanted the M249 on point.

Horn grunted as he made his way through the civilians.
“What’s the plan?” he said when he reached Beckham.

“We stay frosty,” Beckham whispered. He faced the others and
said, “Whatever’s on the other side of this door isn’t going to be pretty. No
matter what you see or hear, you keep quiet, you keep calm, and you follow us.
Got it?”

There were several nods and a couple whispers of
acknowledgement.

“Open it, Ted.”

This time the engineer hesitated even longer before inserting
his key. After sucking in a breath, he twisted it and pulled the door open. The
metal scraped over the rocky floor.

Beckham cringed and followed Horn onto a catwalk that looked
over a cavern. Greenish-blue water shimmered under the walkway. The calm
freshwater lake was deceiving, Beckham knew there was nothing peaceful about
this place. He followed Horn to the railing to scope the cave.

“There,” Horn whispered. He pointed to the west where a shelf
had been carved into the rock.

Beckham clenched his jaw when he saw it had been transformed
into a meat locker. Dozens of human shapes were plastered to the walls, the
ceiling, and the floor. He focused on a man in fatigues, his body stretched
into a T, crucified against the rock. Red ropes hung from the man’s stomach and
piled on the ground beneath his feet. Beckham zoomed in to see it was the man’s
guts.

“Jesus,” he whispered.

“Think of any of them are alive?” Horn asked.

“I’d bet on it,” Beckham said. “The Variants prefer fresh
meat.”

Beckham searched for the monsters, sweeping his aim from left
to right, but he saw nothing besides their human prisoners.

“Looks clear,” Horn said.

After a third sweep, Beckham nodded and turned back to the
others. He couldn’t save the poor souls across the cavern, but maybe he could
still save those behind him. He waved them onto the catwalk.

Ted grabbed the railing and hurried over to Beckham. “We just
take this all the way around to the entrance.”

“Let’s move, Big Horn,” Beckham said.

He put a hand on Horn’s shoulder and followed him across the
walkway. No matter how quietly the operators were trained to move, they
couldn’t mask the sounds the civilians made. The clanks from their footfalls
echoed in the cavern. With each step Beckham expected a Variant to answer with
a shriek. They made it about one hundred yards before a dull sound reverberated
through the chamber.

“Hold,” Beckham whispered. He paused to listen as a second
hollow noise sounded.  

“Where’s it coming from?” Horn asked.

Beckham turned and focused on the rock tunnel leading from
the power plant. The sound of crashing mechanical equipment coupled with the
shattering of glass exploded from the entrance.  The Variants had found a
way into the plant.

“Run,” Beckham said. “Everyone run, NOW!”

Horn was already moving, his boots pounding the metal. The
civilians surged forward, and Beckham focused on the entrance to the reservoir
ahead. It was only a few minutes away, but as the shrieks grew louder, he
wasn’t sure they had enough time to get there.

The walkway suddenly shook violently, throwing Beckham off
balance. He looked over his shoulder to see Variants streaming out of the
tunnel and onto the catwalk. One of them tumbled over the railing and plummeted
to the water below. There was a splash and the heavy crack of gunshots. 

Lombardi had stopped to lay down covering fire. Blasts from
his shotgun sent three more of the creatures spinning over the side and into
the water, but others quickly took their place. The Variants pushed and clawed
their way onto the platform. Within seconds the metal groaned under the weight
of two dozen of them.

Mikesell halted and then ran back to join Lombardi. They
fired side by side as the monsters advanced. A second soldier from Alpha fell
into line behind them.

“Fall back!” Beckham screamed. He stood his ground as Ted
raced past him. Chow rushed by, half dragging Sawyer. They staggered down the
walkway, Chow’s M4 clanking on the side of the railing.

 Lombardi and Mikesell continued to lay down covering
fire as they backpedaled. The shots pierced the flesh of the Variants in front,
splattering those in the back with blood from the exit wounds. The injured
creatures dropped and vanished in the stampede of diseased skin. A few in front
skittered up the wall to avoid the shots.

“Take out the climbers!” Beckham shouted as the final
civilian passed him and ran after Horn and the others. He caught a glimpse of
the well dressed woman he’d noticed in the power plant. There was something
about the way she carried herself that made her stand out. Not military, but
maybe an important government official. Beckham shouldered his rifle. If he
hesitated another blink, they were all as good as dead.

Steady, Reed. Steady.

He stilled his breathing, planted his boots, and fired at the
monsters clambering over the walls. The rounds bit into rock and punched
through lean muscle. Two of the creatures skidded down, clawing and squawking.
They crashed to the catwalk, and the remaining Variants trampled the life from the
injured creatures.

Lombardi fired on a second wave that had taken to the walls
while Mikesell and his squad-mate worked on the mob rushing toward them.
Bullets thinned those out in front, but the tidal wave pouring from the tunnel
seemed endless. The catwalk whined and sagged beneath their weight.

“Get out of—” Beckham began to shout. He was cut off by a
metallic crack as an entire section of catwalk broke off. The Variants and the
three Medical Corps soldiers plummeted into the water with it. The men screamed
as they dropped into the lake with the shrieking monsters.

Beckham dropped to his knees at the edge of the walkway and
peered over the side into the churning blue-green water.

Two of the men never surfaced, but Mikesell thrashed over to
the wall. He dragged his fingernails frantically across the rock, trying to
climb up.

Beckham looked for something to throw down to him, but it was
already too late. The sergeant let out a shrill scream as the Variants pulled
him under. Frothy red bubbles churned the water as the monsters tore him apart.

Beckham closed his eyes for a split second, muttering
something that was halfway between a prayer and curse. When he snapped them
back open, he saw Lombardi had finally surfaced and was swimming away from the
pack of Variants.

“Get to the other side!” Beckham shouted. The crack of
gunfire rang out behind him as he rose to his feet. Chow had handed Sawyer off
to Horn and was now firing at the Variants spilling from the tunnel directly to
the walls. They didn’t need a walkway to get to their prey.

“Got to move, man!” Chow yelled.

Beckham raised his rifle and fired as they retreated. Three
of the creatures lost their grip and crashed into the water. After clearing
several more from the walls, Beckham turned and bolted after Horn and the
civilians.

He looked over the side of the railing as he ran. Lombardi
was swimming like a madman, his strokes deep and fast, but the Variants were
gaining. They used their legs to glide smoothly under the surface.

Lombardi flung a glance over his shoulder in between breaths
and then stopped to tread water. He peered up at Beckham, his eyes wide and
panicky—the terrified look of a man who hadn’t accepted his fate.

“No!” Beckham shouted as Lombardi vanished under the surface.

Chow tugged on Beckham’s flak jacket. “Nothing we can do for
him! Come on!”

Beckham resisted, his eyes still locked on the bubbling
surface.

“Now, god dammit!”

Beckham let Chow pull him away from the railing, and they
sprinted across the final stretch of walkway. The group was waiting at a pair
of doors leading to the inner roadway.

“Where are the others?” Horn asked.

Beckham shook his head. There was no time to hesitate or
explain. They had to continue to the roadway regardless of what was waiting for
them outside.

“Let’s go!” Beckham said. He shoved his way through the
terrified civilians and waited impatiently while Ted fumbled with his keys. The
engineer finally pulled the door open, and Horn hurried through first. The
crack of his gun sounded as soon as he entered the tunnel.

Beckham could see the Variants to the east. Most of them were
still working their way into the West Power Plant. He whirled and looked to the
west tunnel leading to the A and B portals that Alpha team had used during
insertion. That’s where Beckham had planned to escape, but it was a long hike.
They would never outrun the creatures unless he bought them some time.

Beckham pulled his spent mag out and jammed another into his
rifle. “Horn, on me! Chow, you go west with the others,” he yelled over Horn’s
gunfire. “I’m going for the truck!”

The civilians hesitated, and Beckham bellowed, “GO!”

In the next instant, Beckham was running toward the Humvee.
He picked off the Variants closest to the truck in mid-stride. His internal
processor kicked into overdrive. He nailed headshot after headshot, plastering
the walls and floor with gore.

It took Beckham thirty seconds to reach the truck. He flung
his rifle over his back and pulled his pistol as he approached the driver’s
side. An emaciated male Variant perched on the hood snarled at him and narrowed
its yellow eyes on Beckham’s neck. Everything froze in that moment. It was like
his world had been placed under a microscope. He could detect the smallest
details, from the drops of sweat on the monster’s face to the blood on the tips
of its brown, jagged teeth. Beckham could even smell the rancid scent of
rotting fruit radiating off the thing’s filthy skin.