HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) (46 page)

Thirty-nine minutes.

One of Christov’s men reached down to help him sit up.

‘I’m all right,’ he croaked.

He yanked the dart from his leg.

That bitch in the wheelchair stabbed me with this.

He’d been moments from killing the Marine captain.

Christov should have known.

The woman in the wheelchair was a scientist too.

Scientists couldn’t be trusted.

Ben checked his compass again.

It felt surreal to be steering the largest cruise ship on the planet using a compass that fit into his pocket.

Confident with the ship’s course, he locked the controls and braced himself for what came next.

Christov had arrived with the intention of killing every last person on the ship. That included the survivors who’d reached the lifeboats.

Ben knew how Christov planned to kill the survivors.

When the cruise ship had abandoned the lifeboats, the boats would have grouped together. The staff scattered throughout the boats knew the procedure.

Christov’s helicopters had powerful guns. Ben had witnessed them tear apart a Black Hawk helicopter in seconds. That firepower directed against the vulnerable lifeboats would be devastating.

The lifeboats wouldn’t stand a chance. That bobbing flotilla of fragile life would be blown apart in seconds.

Those people were Ben’s responsibility, and Ben knew how to hurt Christov.

He cautiously picked up the dead gunman’s dropped flamethrower. It felt heavier than he’d expected. He wedged the flamethrower into the lowest rung on the ladder.

Next he hauled himself up the ladder, wincing as his bullet wounds flared. He imagined how Karen felt being forced up this ladder at gunpoint.

Climbing up onto the bridge, he took his first proper look at the helicopter that dropped his wife.

He opened the cockpit door. The wind tore it from his grasp, forcing it fully open. The sliding cargo door already gaped open.

He looked inside.

He forced himself.

Inside the chopper looked claustrophobic and terrifying.

They pushed her out of this door.
She and the others.

He imagined Karen’s reaction when gunmen began pushing the other officers to their deaths. He imagined her crying. Begging for her life. In the end, she would have fought. She would have struggled right up until they shoved her out the door.

Ben knew what happened after that.

He saw her falling.

Screaming.

Landing.

He slapped a hand over his eyes, holding back the emotions that wanted to curl him into a ball.

Instead, he hauled up the ladder and pulled free the flamethrower. Taking the wind into account, he braced himself a moment and then squeezed the trigger.

Flames burst from the weapon.

First he directed the roaring flames into the cockpit. The cockpit transformed into a blazing red inferno.

He fired again.

This time his flames roared through the cargo door. He filled the entire helicopter with fire.

Retreating from the heat, he held the trigger and painted the helicopter with flames from cockpit to tail rotor.

The entire chopper caught on fire.

He’d done it. Dropping the weapon, he retreated down the ladder in case the chopper exploded. Through the hole in the ceiling he watched black smoke pluming high above the ship.

That’s a message Christov can’t ignore.

Erin scanned the cameras.

She turned back to King and Forest. ‘I can’t tell which way the cameras are facing. They’re too high.’

All three crouched outside a ‘Make-Your-Own’ pizza restaurant. A lattice covered in plastic ivy shielded them from the cameras.

Forest tried his radio again.

No one answered.

Erin had tried using three different telephones to call the bridge.

What’s happened to Ben and Karen and the other bridge officers? Did they evacuate?

Hopefully Karen had reached a lifeboat. Of all the people on board, Karen was Erin’s closest friend.

Erin realized both Marines were watching her. They seemed much more confident with real firearms.

‘We need to reach the helipad,’ said King.

‘What about the bridge?’ asked Erin.

‘If they’re using the cameras, they’ve already captured the bridge,’ explained King.

Forest nodded. ‘The others will head for the chopper with Neve and Justin.’

Erin realized they wanted her opinion.

She nodded. ‘With a helicopter we can call for help. That’s a priority.’

‘So which way?’ asked King.

Erin pointed. ‘The stern-most fire stairs. We’ll be exposed, though.’

‘We have to risk it,’ decided King. ‘Let’s go.’

King took off. Erin followed. She barely heard Forest’s boots behind her. Forest moved incredibly quietly.

Erin pointed at the fire stairs ahead. ‘There they—’

Forest snatched her arm.

‘King!’ he hissed.

King halted instantly.

Both Marines looked around. Erin had been focusing on the fire stairs. Now she looked around herself.

Dozens and dozens of corpses had been dragged into the surrounding restaurants. Erin could see they’d been killed by gunfire. Gunmen had clearly wiped out a large pack of crazies on this level.

Why drag the bodies out of sight?’

‘It’s a trap,’ hissed King.

Forest nearly wrenched Erin’s shoulder from its socket. He yanked her toward the Mediterranean Deli.

Then Erin saw fire.

A tremendous cone of fire spurted out from behind the closest pile of bodies. The flames roared toward them, scorching the deck where they’d stood. Fire pursued them right into the deli.

Erin ran for her life.

She sprinted with the Marines.

They weren’t fast enough.

The flames caught them.

Erin felt a volcano erupting behind her. She felt lava spewing from the volcano and engulfing her legs.

She looked down.

I’m on fire!

Flames licked up her pants on both sides.

Oh, my God. I’m on fire!

Forest tackled her to the floor. He and King smothered the flames with their gloves. Forest dashed away as King scooped her up like she was made of feathers.

He ran a few steps and threw her.

Erin felt her entire body sailing over the deli’s tall glass counter. Her legs knocked hanging salamis and braids of garlic flying.

She braced for impact, but instead felt strong, wiry arms pluck her from the air.

Forest had caught her.

Together they dropped behind the counter as King came leaping over.

Erin winced as pain flared up her legs. Fire had burned both her calves. She suddenly inhaled something revolting.

It was burned hair.

Neither King nor Forest had escaped the flames. Forest had burns on his neck and ears. King’s arms were burned where he’d rolled up his sleeves.

Erin had been
just
within range of the flames. Close enough to be burned, but not engulfed.

‘Faces down!’ yelled King.

Erin shielded her face.

Fire blasted into the deli.

Flames slid around the walls and ceiling.

 Intense heat rolled over the deli’s transparent display counter. Unforgiving heat beat down on Erin’s head and back.

Oh, my God. We’ll cook to death if we stay here!

Erin looked for the deli’s service door. The air around her shimmered with heat haze. Her nostrils burned with every breath. She spotted a door, but they’d never reach it.

Her head began spinning.

She heard the flames recede and realized their attacker was closing in for the kill.

She was right.

This time the flames struck the counter directly, rolling up the glass and smashing into the ceiling and wall right above her.

Erin put her face to the floor, bracing herself for the unbearable pain.