The Tide (Tide Series Book 1) (27 page)

“The kitchen table!” Kara shouted.

Joe understood immediately and dashed into the kitchen.

Already, her mother’s frustrated cries emanated under the door. Joe grunted and turned the kitchen table on its side. He slid it in front of the basement door. Nina grabbed the chairs and used them to brace the table. When they finished, Nina wrapped her arms around Sadie. Her children ran to her, joining the huddle.

Kara clenched her jaw and dashed to Maggie’s side. The dog’s ribs expanded and deflated in a slow rhythm. Her tail thumped the floor when Kara knelt by her. Maggie turned her head and pressed her wet snout into Kara’s open palm. The dog twisted her body to get up but fell back. She whined.

“What’s wrong, girl?” Kara asked. A wet sheen formed over her eyes. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

Then she saw Maggie’s paw. Her front leg was twisted unnaturally. Nausea gripped Kara. She clasped a hand over her mouth and gagged.

“I’m sorry, Kara.” Joe put a hand on her shoulder. “I—”

Kara brushed his hand off, anger flooding her. He’d tried to kill her mother. God, when would this nightmare end? Where was her father? And what the hell was going on with the world?

The sounds from the basement intensified. Nina’s children still sobbed, and Joe tried to blubber another apology.

Anger, despair, fear—everything crashed together in Kara. Her limbs shook, and she felt ready to collapse. She took a moment to gather herself, forcing herself to breathe slowly.

She recalled a time when she’d come home from junior high school, bullied once again for being a tomboy. Her interest in hunting and the outdoors made the prim and proper girls look at her with contempt. The boys avoided her, calling her a butch. To add to the usual insults, she’d failed a test she hadn’t studied for. She’d been too distracted by her peers’ verbal abuse to remember it was even coming up. She’d also found out she’d been bumped from her varsity spot on the cross-country team. Just everyday adolescent problems, but it had felt like the end of the world at the time.

Her father had come into her room as she screamed into her pillow. He’d placed one heavy hand on her back and waited for her to calm. She’d unloaded every fear, every complaint, every problem at him.

“How do I fix it all?” she’d asked.

“If you try to tackle everything at once, you’ll be overwhelmed.” He had looked at her, his eyes dark and serious, his hands on her thin shoulders. “One problem at a time, Kara. Just fix one problem at a time.”

Her mother’s wailing brought her back to reality. Kara steeled herself and wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye. Maggie tried to stand again.

“No!” Kara pointed at the dog. “Stay!”

Maggie whined.

“Keep her there,” Kara said to Joe.

The large man, certainly no less than two hundred twenty, maybe two hundred thirty pounds, looked like a scolded child. He crouched by Maggie and rested a meaty hand on her head. He stroked the back of her neck awkwardly, as if he hadn’t ever touched a dog.

Hell, maybe he hadn’t.

Kara turned off the still-flaming stove burner. She rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a wooden mixing spoon. From another drawer, she chose a clean washcloth. She scoured one of the kitchen cabinets and grabbed a plastic bottle rattling with ibuprofen pills.

“Kara, I’m—” Joe began again.

“Please, just keep Maggie still,” Kara said. “One thing at a time.”

She glanced at the dog and estimated the appropriate dose of pain reliever to give her. She crushed a couple pills, dissolved them in a small bit of water, and mixed in sugar to mask the bitterness. With an eyedropper, she drew up the solution and brought it to Maggie.

“Here, girl. Drink up.” She cradled Maggie’s head as she squeezed the medicine into the dog’s mouth. Maggie instinctively choked down the concoction. It wouldn’t be as good as morphine, but it would be better than nothing.

Kara placed the wooden mixing spoon next to Maggie’s broken front leg. She sized it up and sawed off an appropriate length with a steak knife.

“Don’t let her up,” Kara said again to Joe. She left for the desk in the dining room, where her mom had set up a makeshift office area. Rummaging through the drawers of the desk, she found a roll of duct tape.

Once again, Kara took a deep breath and knelt by Maggie’s side. Her supplies lay in front of her: the tape, dishcloth, and handle cut from the wooden spoon. Everything she needed for an emergency splint.

“She’s going to whine, she’s going to yelp, she’s going to growl, and she’ll probably try to tear our faces off,” Kara warned, “but do not let her move. Keep one hand tight around her muzzle and the other around her head.” She glanced at the hall, where Nina and the children were still gathered. “Nina or Sadie, I’m going to need one of you to help.”

Nina nodded and began to leave her children’s side, but Sadie stepped forward. “I’ll do it.” Her eyes were still red and puffy, but she was no longer crying. She knelt by Kara, and Kara showed her where to keep her hands on Maggie’s haunches to hold her secure.

“Ready?” Kara asked.

Both Joe and Sadie nodded. Kara had always wanted to be a vet, but she wouldn’t start veterinary school until she finished her undergraduate degree. She possessed no formal training other than the books she’d read for fun on animal husbandry and medicine. She wasn’t ready to put her knowledge into practice, but now she had no choice.

Biting her bottom lip and willing all the determination she could muster, she straightened Maggie’s broken limb. The dog yelped, and her feet kicked. Joe and Sadie strained to hold her still.

Kara worked quickly to secure the wooden spoon and wrap the washcloth tight around the injury. The duct tape made a ripping sound as she unwound it from the roll. As swiftly as she could, she tightened the silver tape up the length of the washcloth.

Maggie growled and tried to snap as Kara tightened the splint. Joe’s arm shook, but he held her down. Kara cut the last piece of tape, secured it, and leaned back.

“Done,” she said. “You can let her go.”

Joe shuffled back, avoiding any biting reprisal from Maggie. But the dog still lay on her side. Her tongue lolled from her mouth. She panted, exhausted by the pain.

Maggie’s eyes closed as Kara ran her hands through the wavy reddish gold fur along the retriever’s shoulder blades. “You’re a good girl. A very good girl.”

One thing at a time.

Scratching sounded at the basement door, but Kara ignored it. She cleaned up the spilled soup with Sadie’s help.

Joe stood at the end of the island, his eyes down and his hands at his side. “Kara, I’m sorry.” He shook his head, and his gaze met hers. “I didn’t mean...Bethany is my friend, but...”

Sadie appeared ready to break down again, and Kara slid her fingers into her sister’s.

“But she isn’t your mother anymore,” Joe continued. “She tried to kill you. Tried to kill me. I had to do it.”

“She’ll always be my mother.
Our
mother.” Kara could feel the heat in her cheeks, and she willed the anger to subside. It was impossible to ignore. In her mind, she knew he was right, but she couldn’t bring herself to forgive him or to allow the possibility that her mother might be one of
them.

“I know, but—”

“Please, just stop,” Kara said. Sadie interlaced her fingers tighter with Kara’s. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She turned back to the stove. Somehow, her stomach still rumbled. She needed something to distract herself and occupy her mind. A second attempt at a meal would do that.

Through the slits in the blinds, yellow sunlight pierced the room. She twisted the plastic rod on the blinds to open them slightly enough to peek out of. More warm, glowing light flooded in from the rising sun. It instilled a sense of comfort among the confusion. She wasn’t so dense as to think the coming day would chase away the crazies and magically fix all that had transpired. But at least she could see clearly again.

Her heart caught in her throat.

She could see
too
clearly.

Through her backyard, a pack of crazies swarmed. Their bodies distorted as they scanned for any sign of prey; their ears perked, noses sniffing. There were at least a dozen in her backyard alone. She noticed long talons growing from the fingers of some and wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the more she stared at them, the more she was mesmerized by the strange bony growths protruding from their shoulders and spikes hooking from their joints. These people were turning into goddamned monsters. This was no illusion, no hallucination.

This was reality now.

Kara closed the blinds again, using up all her self-control to prevent herself from falling apart at the dark visage of twisted, skeletal humanoids. “Everybody stay away from the windows,” she said in a low, trenchant tone. “Joe, Nina, Sadie. Keep your weapons by your side.”

“What is it?” Nina asked.

“More of them,” Kara said. “So many.”

She scrounged in her pockets for any remaining shells. Only a handful. A couple of boxes she’d retrieved earlier sat in the living room, but she wondered if it would be enough should the crazies rout them out.

Another guttural shriek escaped from the basement door. Between Kara and the ammunition in the basement waited her enraged mother.

She repeated her father’s mantra:
One thing at a time
.

––––––––

T
he heavy beat of the blades and the roar of the helicopter’s twin engines kept a steady rhythm as they crossed Maryland. Heavy plumes of smoke rose up from the urban sprawl surrounding Baltimore. Westward, the lush green of trees across rolling hills stretched beneath them.

Frank’s smooth voice came over the comm link set in Dom’s helmet. “We’re about fifteen minutes out from Detrick and just under ten from our destination in Frederick.”

“Copy that,” Dom replied. He waved to get Adam’s attention. “Still nothing from Webb?”

“Not yet.”

Dom’s heart sank, but he resolved not to show any outward sign of his dismay. The last time he’d made contact with Meredith was when she’d called from a bus depot. She’d reported the calamity at Fort Detrick, and they’d agreed to convene at his family’s—now his ex-wife’s—home. She’d insisted on honoring her vow to protect his daughters. Setting a rendezvous point in familiar territory also gave them a strategic advantage in a city overcome by Skulls.

At least, that was the idea.

The chopper began its descent, and the familiar winding streets and patchwork of colorful houses rose toward them.

“T-minus three minutes,” Frank called over the comm system.

The mechanical clicks of magazines being inserted into weapons filled the cabin. Dom’s heart beat faster. A wet film of sweat formed between his palms and his gloves.

He caught Adam’s eyes, and the communication specialist shook his head. Still no contact from Meredith. No confirmation she had found his daughters—or that she was even alive.

And nothing from Fort Detrick, either. They were on their own for now.

“Hold on,” Frank said. The chopper banked hard right. “I’m doing a second pass before we hit the LZ. We’ve got marks. Can’t tell if they’re civilians or—”

“Skulls,” Miguel said, staring at the black asphalt streets.

People wandered around the neighborhood. A small pack sprinted, riled up by something. As they followed the dashed lines in the middle of the road, more people joined the original half-dozen. They’d formed a mob, charging forward like so many hornets rocketing from their disturbed nest.

Renee pressed against her harness, straining to see out the fuselage porthole. “What the hell’s up with them?”

In front of the pack, a man and woman sprinted. They turned up a driveway and pounded on the front door of a one-story house. The Skulls, dozens of them, overwhelmed the couple and crashed against the house like waves over a rocky outcropping. Climbing over each other, the crazed people surged and tumbled.

The sheer altitude and drone of the helicopter’s engine sheltered Dom from the bloodcurdling screams and inhuman cries that would accompany the unfolding scene. In a matter of seconds, the group parted, leaving behind the torn shreds of clothes and dark pools of blood.

Adam gulped. “Of all that is holy...”

The Hunters were all glued to the tableau below.

“I think we’ve confirmed LZ is hot,” Frank said, his voice no longer the epitome of suave coolness he worked so hard to portray.

Dom considered their options. He could have Frank drop him off to meet Meredith alone. He’d have to fight the Skulls with no one to watch his back, but there was no need to waste his Hunters’ lives in a mission in which they faced insurmountable odds.

Maybe he could send Frank to wait somewhere safe with his crew. Some of the state parks were easily within range and probably wouldn’t be nearly as populated with Skulls as the city below. Frank and the Hunters could wait there until Dom radioed for a pickup to head to Fort Detrick.

Renee seemed to sense his internal dilemma. She gave him a slight nod, an indication she was ready. It was then he knew for certain his Hunters would never let him go it alone. They’d rather bail out of the chopper with him into shark-infested seas than fly away and leave him to fend for himself.

“We’re going to land as planned,” Dom said. “Our goal is the two-story house with the beige siding and black shutters, number 14 at the end of the cul-de-sac. In all likelihood, we’ll have to knock the door down.” Dom patted his pocket. “I didn’t bring my key.”

A few nervous chuckles escaped from the Hunters.

“Frank, I know you don’t want to hover long—no need to risk the helicopter by flying in the dead man’s curve—but try to stay close. At the first sign of being overwhelmed like that”—Dom gestured to the pack of Oni-fueled people rushing across manicured lawns in search of their next victims—“all of you get your asses back aboard this chopper and get the hell out of here. Don’t wait for me. One way or another, I’m finding Webb and getting into Fort Detrick.”

He felt too selfish to mention his daughters when his Hunters were about to risk their lives for what seemed like a fool’s errand.