Extinction Agenda (34 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

E
ven after the helicopter had veered onto another course, Adderson’s gaze was still fixed on the sky. “Where did that thing land?” he asked.

Warren stood on top of the Humvee, sighting through her binoculars. “I’d say about two or three klicks from here, but couldn’t be much farther than that.”

“Can you get us to that impact site?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then go!”

He, Warren, and the other troops they’d collected along the way piled into their vehicles and rolled down the street. Adderson still didn’t have much of an idea about his location using any sort of civilian terminology. If he ever visited Shreveport again and someone gave him a street address, he’d probably get lost. But when someone referred to the grid that the IRD had set up that allowed them to navigate just about any urban environment, he’d know exactly what they were talking about.

“All Ravens,” he said into his radio. “Give me a location on the shifter that was just dropped.”

“This is Raven Two. Dropped that bastard into Sector Fourteen, but I couldn’t tell you if it’s still there or not. Swung over to have a look, but it was already up and moving.”

“Sector Fourteen,” Adderson said to the Humvee driver. That was all the driver needed to hear to get the vehicle moving in the proper direction. Adderson scanned the side of the street for movement as he spoke into the radio. “Do you still have those specialists, Raven Two?”

“Yes sir. They’re anxious to get back into the fight. Already told them you’d be joining the party. Was that speaking out of turn, sir?”

“Not at all. We engaged a large group of Class Twos in Sector Eight, but they were just wild and hungry. Most of the bigger ones are probably going to meet up with that Class One. All Ravens, deploy your troops and provide air support.”

“You’ll have it as long as we can stay in the air, sir,” another of the pilots said.

“Negative, Ravens,” Adderson snapped. “If the ground forces get overwhelmed, you are all ordered to bug out and regroup at the western rendezvous point. Those choppers are too damned expensive to be thrown away. Understood?”

One by one the pilots gave their affirmatives, but none of them seemed happy about it. Adderson tucked the radio away. No troops needed to be happy about their orders for them to be carried out. He knew the IRD soldiers were conditioned well enough to see them through before giving in to the panic that gnawed at all of them. If he thought about his current assignment for too long, he could still feel that panic creeping in at the edges. He shoved it back down and prepped his assault rifle. When the time came, that’s all he would need.

T
he warning sirens had been off for some time. Any civilians who hadn’t gotten into their shelters by now were on their own. Half Breeds swarmed through the city, racing through yards, bounding down streets, scampering along sidewalks, and even leaping onto first story roofs before rejoining the main flow that led into what had been designated Sector 14. Milosh looked out of his window as Half Breeds ran past the Humvee that met them shortly after their arrival in town. Some of them even kept pace long enough to glance over and snap at the vehicles. The driver jerked the wheel to the appropriate side to nudge the creatures along, which was enough to buy some space before any tires were shredded.

One of the soldiers who’d met them was a young Asian man with bright eyes and a curious smile. “So what’s the deal with you guys?” he asked.

“Deal?” Milosh grunted.

“Yeah. Usually all you specialists carry sticks. What’s with the knives and that post?”

Milosh turned in his seat to look at George, who carried his long weapon so the weighted end was resting on his shoulder and the claw was wedged between his feet. “What is the deal with that post, Georgie?”

“Nobody calls me Georgie, and if they do,” the Amriany added while shifting so the weighted end of his weapon was on more prominent display, “they don’t remember it. This post can make you forget your last three birthdays, know what I mean?”

“He’s definitely talking to you, man,” the soldier said.

“We are not Skinners,” Milosh said. “We are called Amriany. In our language, this means both chosen and cursed. Appropriate, eh?”

The soldier shrugged and readjusted to get more comfortable in his seat. “Whatever. Now I see why the major just calls you all specialists.”

From the front seat Nadya chuckled. It had been generations since an Amriany tasted the sweet scent of pure nature energies used by the Dryad. She knew Sophie would have loved to travel that way herself. If things went according to plan, there would be other chances. For the moment, the Amriany couldn’t afford to send one of their most valuable assets into a wolf infested city.

The driver of the Humvee spoke on her radio and then put the handset into a bracket mounted to the dash. “We’re headed to Sector Fourteen.” Glancing over to Nadya, she added, “Not far from here.”

“I figured. Aren’t we headed toward the spot where that Weshruuv was dropped like a rock from one of your helicopters?”

The driver’s face cracked into a smile, making it seem almost pretty. The effect lasted for a few seconds before the Army shield was up again. “I guess that was a tough sight to miss, huh?”

“Yes.”

“So. Wesh-roove. What language is that?”

Without bothering to correct the driver’s pronunciation, Nadya told her, “It’s a mix of lots of things. More of some and a sprinkling of others.”

“My whole family’s like that.”

“Yes,” Nadya said while glancing over her shoulder at the two Amriany crammed into the back with the other soldier. “Mine too.”

T
he Learjet 45XR touched down at Shreveport Regional Airport, where it was immediately met by a military convoy. On any given day a year ago this would have gummed up the works for several commercial airlines and possibly hundreds of commuters. But since most of the people who wanted to leave the city had already done so, and nobody was too anxious to get there, the jet had the landing strip to itself as it taxied to a halt.

One of the soldiers who’d arrived to greet the plane stood on the tarmac with his back to the aircraft. Other soldiers stood alongside him, facing away, their rifles already raised to their shoulders. “How we doing on shifter activity?” the first soldier asked.

“Still a few packs in the airport, but Jeffries and Bukowski are keeping them occupied.”

Glancing over his shoulder, the first soldier watched as the jet’s side hatch was opened and steps were lowered. About two seconds later he asked, “What the hell are they doing in there?” Rather than yell up into the jet, he tapped the shoulder of the man beside him and said, “Go up and see what’s keeping them. We’ve got a limited amount of time here.”

Esteban’s howl echoed from another part of town, causing the IRD troops to shift their focus to the men beside them. It was more of a feral howl than the solid, vaguely melodic tones that infected random humans, and was cut off by the thump of multiple explosives, which ironically put the soldiers on the landing strip at ease.

The soldier who’d been sent into the jet ran up the steps and quickly poked his head out again to say, “It’s not ready yet.”

“What’s not ready yet?”

“I don’t know! Should I clear the cabin?”

“Can you do that without compromising any of the assets?”

The soldier at the top of the steps looked back, studied whatever was in the jet for a few seconds, and turned around without being able to disguise his wince. “Can’t say for sure.”

After a haggard sigh and a muttered curse, the soldier on the ground shot a quick glance to the others, who had formed a firing line in front of the jet’s stairs. None of the troops indicated that they saw anything coming from the surrounding area, so the first soldier shouted, “If that aircraft isn’t empty in three minutes, you’re authorized to clear it by force.”

Just as the soldier in the jet was about to acknowledge the order, something caught his attention and drew him back inside. He stepped up to the open hatchway but was shoved aside by a lump of a figure wrapped in a hooded sweatshirt, at least two sweaters, and a parka. Despite the soldier’s protests and attempt to stand his ground, he was unable to keep himself from being moved away from the exit hatch so the lumpy passenger could depart.

“All I asked for was another few minutes!” the lump said. Although no hands could be seen beneath the multiple layers of clothing, squirming arms were wrapped beneath a tottering pile of cases, jars, and small coolers. Faded sweatpants led down into a pair of rubber boots that jangled noisily as the unfastened buckles rattled against each other with every shuffling step. “After breaking my windows, messing up my carpets, knocking over my comic boxes, and breaking down my door, the least you could do was let me finish!”

Another man in uniform stepped into view. It was the pilot, who wore a dark green jumpsuit and pushed his way past both the armed IRD soldier as well as the griping passenger. Not even getting jabbed by one of the sharp implements poking out from the bundle in the passenger’s arms was going to prevent him from getting the hell off that jet. “If it was up to you, you wouldn’t have left that damn apartment.”

Daniels poked his head from behind the mound of stuff he was carrying. “I could have worked a lot better there than wedged behind some seats with my eardrums popping out of my skull.”

The pilot rolled his eyes, walked down the stairs and patted the first soldier on the back. “They’re all yours.”

“You might want to stick close to us, Lieutenant,” the soldier warned. “Class Twos are in the airport.”

“After flying all the way from Chicago with that little jerk, I’ll take my chances.”

Daniels was escorted down the stairs by the soldier who’d gone up into the jet, along with two other IRD troops. Sally brought up the rear carrying several small cases that were either hanging from her shoulders or gripped in her hands. “Most of the work is done. There’s just a few finishing touches, which we can get to on the way over. Is there enough room for him to work?”

“Should be,” one of the escorts replied. He addressed her fondly while completely ignoring the Nymar’s never-ending flow of gripes. Apparently it was a trick that everyone on that jet had learned, because none of them seemed anxious to acknowledge Daniels whatsoever.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Daniels looked up at the soldiers and let out a weary breath. “Where do we go from here?”

“You hear all that shooting and howling?”

Daniels listened for a second before nodding.

“That’s where we’re headed.”

“Her too?” the Nymar asked while glancing back at Sally.

Upon hearing that, the soldiers who had previously been annoyed with Daniels took notice of him again. One was a tall man with thick, angular features and skin the color of burnt clay. The only patch he wore other than the IRD insignia was a faded sampling from an older uniform that read
OURAY.
“We’ll look after her,” he said.

“I was told on the way over that this city is just about overrun. Can you keep her safe here?”

“If worse comes to worse, we’ll pack her up and fly her to the nearest Green Zone. Those places are the closest thing to safe that this country has anymore.”

“Not just this country,” Daniels sighed. Reluctantly, he nodded. Sally placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Might as well go with them, sweetie,” he said. “You’ll be better off than being with me.”

“If I could help you, I would,” she said while framing his face in her hands. “And if I could take you with me, I would too.”

“You can still take me with you,” Daniels told her. “Just knock out these armed men and hijack that plane.”

“Sorry, but I just can’t stand the thought of flying again with you right now.”

Daniels’s laugh was strained beneath the weight of all the stuff he was carrying. He was relieved when the soldiers from the firing line came along to take some of the heavier cases from him and carry them to the waiting Humvee. “I didn’t go through this much to be with you just to let you go now,” he said. “Just keep safe and I’ll see you again real soon.”

Ouray escorted Daniels to the Humvee. The Nymar didn’t look back until he was inside the vehicle, but it was too late. Sally was already up the stairs and being locked behind the door while an old man in a jumpsuit scrambled to refuel the jet.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“W
hat the hell does that thing want?” Adderson asked after emptying an entire magazine into a pair of Half Breeds that had charged at him without batting an eye at the dozens of other rounds thumping into their bodies.

Cole and Paige stood with their backs to a semi trailer that had probably been sitting in the parking lot behind the large store since before the Breaking Moon. The posts propping it up were rusted and caked in dirt. Cole knew as much because he’d spent the first twenty minutes after his arrival huddled beneath the trailer, looking out from behind those metal supports. Even as he inched away from cover, his foot remained in place, as if his ankle was attached to that post. “Doesn’t matter what he wants.”

“I thought you guys knew these things. Talked to them.”

There were two other soldiers posted near the trailer with Adderson and the Skinners. Both of them turned to look at Cole and Paige.

“This one doesn’t want to talk and he doesn’t want to deal,” Cole said. “Do you really need me to tell you that?”

“What about the one in Kansas City?” Adderson asked. “Didn’t you get some help taking that thing down?”

Paige fired the last of the rounds from her Beretta, holstered it, then drew her sickles. “We won’t be getting that kind of help here. What’s with you, anyway? You were never interested in doing much of anything other than shooting these things before. Now you want to ask about getting help from Mongrels?”

Pointing his assault rifle’s muzzle downward, Adderson said, “If siding with Class Threes is what it’ll take to clear this city, then that’s what we’ve got to do. Once this place goes down, there won’t be much incentive to keep the higher ups from lighting up the rest of the cities that are being overrun.”

“How much of the country is overrun?” Cole asked.

“Whatever you’ve heard on the news, times that by five.”

“We stopped watching that crap.”

“Let’s just say it’s bad,” Adderson told him. “Even by our standards. Most recent estimates put the danger zones at sixty-five percent of the populated areas.”

“Jesus,” Paige breathed. “Is that this state or the whole country?”

“That’s worldwide. U.S. figures are even worse. Some countries don’t acknowledge being attacked by these things, but satellite imagery has been modified to pick up on the shifters’ heat signature. They’re everywhere. Something’s been spreading this infection or whatever the hell it is even faster over the last two days. Whatever you were looking for, I hope you found it, because if this city falls, we might as well find a bunker and take our chances with whatever my bosses in DC decide to drop on us in the next air strike. All I can tell you is it won’t be the little fireworks the Air Force has been flying in so far.”

Cole gripped his spear and looked down at his coat. Over the last several minutes the Full Blood hide had taken a beating from Half Breeds and stray gunfire alike. Now that there were no more Snapper rounds or Blood Blade ammo flying around, he could run wherever he pleased as the IRD soldiers fired around him. Unfortunately, they’d barely made a dent in the packs that had converged on the parking lot to encircle the perch Esteban had chosen.

The Full Blood paced on top of the wide roof of a big name discount electronics store. Cole’s former life flickered in his mind as he recalled a few late night openings he’d gone to in stores just like that one when new games or consoles were released. In those years, smelling plastic wrap was more than enough to get his blood flowing. Now there were other ways to do that job. A small trickle of it seeped between his fingers as he drove the thorns of the spear’s handle deeper into his palms. “Has Daniels arrived yet?”

“Landed about half an hour ago,” Adderson said. “Troops met his plane and are en route to us now.”

“Is he alone?” Paige asked.

“Negative. There was a woman with him, just like you said. Sent one of my best assault teams to his apartment. They reported the place was torn to shit and damn near empty. Nymar had been crawling inside and outside the entire building, tore apart most of the apartments, even killed some of the civilians living there. Most of the stuff you requested was either destroyed or missing, but the team found Daniels and the woman dug in good and tight inside a fortified closet. Hell of a good design as far as panic rooms go. Even Ouray was about to write them off before the door was popped open from the inside.”

“Did he bring what he needed to bring?” Cole asked.

“You mean the aerosol containing questionable metallic elements?” When the Skinners glared at him, Adderson told them, “Daniels kept his mouth shut about it, right until a can exploded during the flight. I thought he was smart enough to know about little things like cabin pressure.”

“God damn it,” Cole grunted. “Did he lose it all?”

“We’ll find out soon. Better lay down some covering fire to clear a space big enough for our guests.” The soldiers in the immediate vicinity fanned out and fired into the Half Breeds in a series of three-shot bursts.

Now that their attention had been drawn back to the parked trailer, the Half Breeds barked at the soldiers and charged at them with renewed vigor. Cole had been content to focus on the trailer to keep himself from panicking as the night grew darker and werewolves continued to pour into the parking lot from every direction. His conversation with Adderson had been a distraction from the task at hand, but now there was no getting around the reality of what was happening.

The helicopter that brought him and Paige to meet with Adderson had met up with another one, and now both were circling so their machine guns could tear into the Half Breeds. A third helicopter, which got too close to the electronics store, wavered after Esteban’s howl and was taken down by a swarming mass of Half Breeds.

Several of the IRD soldiers had been turned during that same howl and were gnawing off the last of their uniforms so they could acquaint themselves with their new forms.

Of the three Humvees that had arrived in the last few minutes, only one remained. It was at the far end of the parking lot, somewhere between 100 and 150 yards away. A gunner in place behind the mounted .50 cal was being defended by the Amriany, who had been brought to the rendezvous point. Light from the few bulbs that still burned atop dented poles glinted off the charmed steel in George and Nadya’s grasp. Although Cole could only see the Amriany in fleeting glimpses, he could tell it wouldn’t be long before they were either brought down or forced to retreat.

Overhead, the sky had turned an inky black as thick cloud cover rolled, vaguely illuminated by a waning moon. Now that the wave of Half Breeds had caught a new scent and decided to turn away from the faltering IRD squads, they tore at the Skinners with claws that ripped apart the pavement and churned it into a cloud of gritty dust.

There was no more time to waste in waiting for Daniels. Cole and Paige both knew that the Full Blood could leap away any time he chose. There was something keeping Esteban at that spot, which must have also been whatever had brought him to Shreveport.

“This must be where he’s drawing from the Torva’ox,” Cole said as he set his sights on the Full Blood.

“Give me that divining rod thing,” Paige said. Cole flipped open his coat to reach into one of the large interior pockets. The object he drew out was an amalgam of his old spearhead, some pieces of Paige’s old sickle blades, and a tool Ira had used to harvest the Torva’ox to be put into his Blood Blades. The Jekhibar fit into a small rack designed for that very purpose near the middle of the tool, which tapered down into a spike about four inches long. She held the Jekhibar to her ear and listened for the hum. “There’s a big source somewhere close, all right.”

Watching her listen to a shiny rock brought some questions to Adderson’s mind, but he decided not to waste the time to ask them. “What do you need from us?”

“When will Daniels be here?” Cole asked.

“Should be any minute. And,” the IRD Major added while pointing to the other end of the parking lot, “he should be coming from that direction.”

“Keep the Half Breeds as busy as you can, but don’t push too hard. Keep them occupied, but don’t drive them away from the parking lot,” Cole said. “Know what I mean?”

Paige handed the divining rod back to him and said, “Just keep shooting those things without shooting us.”

Adderson nodded. “I can do that.” Into his radio, he announced, “All Ravens, maintain a perimeter and lay down enough fire to keep any more Class Twos from flanking us. All ground units, protect the incoming Humvee!”

Looking in the direction Adderson was shouting, Cole spotted the vehicle that had just pulled into the lot. It was spouting a continuous stream of fire from its turret as it swerved to join up with the Humvees still being guarded by the Amriany. “All right,” he said to Paige. “This is about as good as it’s gonna get for us. Let’s move.”

She holstered the Beretta, slung an HK across her shoulder, and then drew both of the weapons from her boots. The handles were the same as always and bit into her palms in a familiar fashion. As soon as the connection was made, however, Paige gave the weapons a command that she’d only needed since Ira tinkered with them. The Blood Blades he’d attached were narrow and slightly curved so they could lay alongside the handles and still fit within the holsters. Although the metal wasn’t pliable, the wood to which they were attached responded as well as ever. The section at the top of the handles flexed like an elbow, causing the blades to spring upward and give the weapons a shape similar to the sickles she was used to. As she jogged to keep up with Cole, she twirled the weapons in a tight circle to get a feel for their weight. The smirk on her face proved that she was a fan of Ira’s work.

Cole held onto his spear like he was charging at Gettysburg. The long blade at the end sliced through the first Half Breed it encountered before the werewolf could let out more than a surprised yelp. That was enough to alert the others, and the packs quickly turned toward them. IRD troops entrenched at various spots around the parking lot or on neighboring rooftops took advantage of the moments when the creatures shifted their focus toward Cole and Paige. Bullets thumped into Half Breed backs and heads, sending some of them down for good while softening up plenty more. Paige swung to clip a Half Breed in the face, and the chopping motion she made with her left weapon gave her the momentum to move forward and cut down one Half Breed after another with the Blood Blades. By the time they were halfway to the Humvees, the creatures had pulled back to come at them from different angles.

The werewolves weren’t bright enough to put together a complicated plan, but they’d seen enough of their pack mates get killed while charging straight ahead. Now, when one creature jumped at Cole’s head, another pressed its belly to the pavement to scurry at his legs. Cole jabbed at the first to impale it beneath the jaw. All it took to free the blade was a sharp swing and the charmed steel cut all the way through, as if the Half Breed was constructed of hot wax. From there he kept the spear moving so he could open the tines of the forked end, shove the lower Half Breed’s neck toward the ground to grind it to a halt and then turn the weapon around to drive the blade straight down through its spine. The werewolf let out one last shuddering growl before Cole plucked the blade out and moved on.

Where he delivered slower, heavier hits, Paige’s were quick and slashing, coming in a flurry of nonstop movement. With so many creatures attacking, she didn’t bother to stop and finish off each one. When a Half Breed was cut down, she went on to the next one that stood between her and the Humvees. She assumed Cole would be with her, and he didn’t let her down. Both Skinners made it through the parking lot to meet up with the Amriany.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Milosh shouted as he threw one of his knives into the eye of a Half Breed and then filled that hand with a .44 Magnum. “We need to get to that Weshruuv!”

“Didn’t come for you,” Paige said as she headed for one of the other armed vehicles. Before she could say another word, the door to that Humvee was opened and Daniels spilled out.

“Steph’s reclaimed Chicago,” the Nymar wheezed. “All of it. Barely got out.”

“Great,” Paige snapped. “Did you finish that spray?”

“Had to mix another batch on the plane, but yes,” he said while handing over a can that still bore the label of a generic oven cleaner. The bottom was heavily taped, making it look more like a crude pipe bomb than anything Daniels normally pieced together for them.

“Glad to see you’re alive,” Cole said. “What happened in Chicago?”

Appreciating the concern, Daniels said, “Remember how I was always so worried Steph or some of the others would come after me? Well they finally did. And remember how I told you about that new room I fortified?”

“No.”

“Well, it held out just fine, even when the Shadow Spore climbed in through the windows. I think they were sniffing us out, but these Army guys showed up and took them out. Ruined two of my three apartments along the way, but you know. Whatever.”

“Yeah,” Ouray said from where he knelt so he could use the vehicle for support as he fired a single shot from a sniper rifle. It was modified beyond Cole’s ability to identify the make or model. “Killed a bunch of vampires before they harmed a hair on you or your girlfriend’s head. Whatever.”

Cole extended a hand to the IRD commando and introduced himself. By the time Ouray returned the favor, Paige had finished checking out the spray can.

“You’re sure this has a strong enough mix to get the job done?” she asked.

“Sure,” Daniels replied, rooting through his satchel. “I tested it on the other phantom Full Bloods that were sitting around my place. Now roll up your sleeves.”

Ouray’s face didn’t look like one capable of registering surprise. That changed when he saw the electric needle Daniels took from his bag. Less than fifty yards away the gunner in one of the helicopters laid down enough fire to scatter a large group of Half Breeds that had been charging toward the Humvees. More fire from the vehicle’s turret gave the ground troops a few moments to catch their breath. In that time, Daniels set up inside the Humvee so that each of the Skinners could take their turn getting a dose of the tattoo ink, which had been all but perfected in the last year.