Catalyst (Book 1): Decay Chains (22 page)

Her mind raced. How did they miss Cold World? Purdy said the operatives were there the whole time, which meant they knew she was there. Or they showed up that morning in suits, thinking their all weather jackets too obvious. If they knew she was there, how come they didn’t take her out when they had the chance? She wished she could talk into her mic and ask Purdy what the attackers were wearing. It would’ve been nice to know.

Floors came and went. She stared down at the two women. Their breaths were shallow at best. One lay crumpled in the middle of the elevator. She shook violently, which forced Stormy flat against the wall. The other collapsed against the side, her arms outstretched, her moans vivid, and her face pressed against the cool marble paneling.

Their eyes were full of blood. Both of them were blinded by it. Long ribbons and ashy flecks of burned skin fell to the floor. Stormy didn’t regret letting them in the elevator, but she hadn’t thought it through. They might’ve been better off remaining in the agent. Their misery would have ended sooner. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do to help. She didn’t have a cure and they would be dead in minutes whether she treated their wounds or not.              

She looked up at the numbers. Five floors to go.

Fuck it.

Before she hit the floor, her medical bag was out. She broke cold compresses up, slapped them into the women’s hands, and then forced them to their foreheads one at a time. One woman reached up and nearly ripped Stormy’s mask off, she backhanded the panicked bitch. Unmoved by their screams for mercy, she sprayed a cooling agent on their skin.

She cursed under her breath when the one farthest from her lost her shit. The woman convulsed like a half smashed insect, lost her grip on the wall, and fell backward. Stormy caught her before she smashed into the other female. She was too late to save this one. Foaming blood dripped down her chin and her eyes faded off. Now there were two live women, but three bodies in the elevator. Meet Vallexor victim number one.

One floor to go and one live suit remained. Stormy dug out one of her autoinjectors. Purdy said they were more valuable then her soul. She wasn’t supposed to share them. Even though no one was watching, she looked around before she yanked the cap off and pulled the applicator back. The woman didn’t even flinch when Stormy stabbed her thigh with the autoinjector. She pressed the plunger down anyhow.

Agony reanimated the woman seconds later. Gurgled screams filled with incoherent words grew louder each second. Stormy sighed. The decent thing to do would be to look away and say a prayer for this woman’s soul, but she couldn’t do that. If she died and came right back, like Vicky had, the last thing Stormy wanted to be doing was looking in the wrong direction.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

DAY ONE—MINUTES INTO EPIDEMIC: 00:00:08

At first, Stormy didn’t notice the elevator had stopped and the doors were open. Her eyes were locked on two women, both definitely dead. One was coming up on her knees with an autoinjector stuck in her thigh.

Not that it really mattered, but Stormy was glad no one wanted a ride down from the roof. It couldn’t have looked right when she checked over her shoulder, noticed she had reached her destination, and then backed out of the elevator firing off rounds in steady succession. Once the backs of the women’s heads were splattered into a morbid red painting, she turned on her heel and kept walking. She acted like everything was perfect and she hadn’t just exited an elevator teeming with death and littered with bodies.

Her timer relayed that she had plenty of suction style breathing to go. Weapon ready and swiping from side to side in front of her, Stormy walked with purpose. That is, until she saw the flash of movement to her side. She didn’t bother with a second look. Instead, she dove down next to a massive AC unit. Cover first, Purdy had said. Cover over a shot every time.

The rain tapped against the metal casing on the AC unit and drenched her hoodie. She would give anything to feel it rinse the sweat off her face, but that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

She never loved a pair of gloves more than she did right then. Without them, that gloomy weather would send her shots all over the place. Her trigger finger didn’t need to be slippery. She wasn’t an amazing shot with bone-dry hands.

After three deep pulls of clean air, she repositioned herself behind the giant whirring AC unit. Mindful to keep her fingers on her side of the grate, she leveled her eyes over it and searched for that flash of life from earlier.

Thick minutes passed. Her thighs throbbed and her knees grew sensitive to the grit beneath them. She ducked back down and surveyed the area behind her. Still nothing, but she knew better than to believe that. Her head popped back up again just in time to see a red blur pass behind the brick face of the elevator and head to the street side of the building.

To head the blur off, she followed the brick wall in the opposite direction. She took small steps and looked back as often as she faced front. Her shoulder scraped against the building. The mask set her off balance and her coordination went haywire in response. She would be lucky if she made more than one headshot per magazine. Purdy was the only one who had this feat down to a science.

The brick wall ended twenty feet before the rooftop did. A quick look around the wall confirmed her fears. Not only had she failed to stop Cold World from letting off the agent again, but she had also managed to give Matt one-on-one time with the operatives. He had used the time to its fullest. She slid behind the wall again and drew a deep breath. Exhaling provided no relief. Her weapon dangled beside her, weighed down by self-hatred. Everything felt ten times heavier when she peered around the wall again.

Matt was accompanied, animated, and furious. One super stood off to his side snarling. He veered off time and again, but always returned to Matt’s side. His rapid movements made his red shirt go fuzzy whenever he wasn’t perfectly still.

Cold World had sent a male and female again. Stormy couldn’t tell if they were the same ones from this far away, especially since they wore identical tan suits. When she had had enough of watching Matt shout, strangle, and beat the male operative, she slid back behind the wall.

She looked over her shoulder from time to time, but mainly she focused on her watch. Her breathing fell in sync with the countdown. Once she got down to thirty seconds, she mouthed the numbers. The tone from her watch was audible. It was safe to breath freely again.

The air rushed to her face. The breeze was welcome in her hair and against her sweaty forehead. She drew the first breath slowly and savored it like it was a sip of chilled champagne. When it didn’t gag her, she took two longer pulls. She left the gloves on. They would protect her hands in battle or if she had to go down the building the hard way.

One more look around the wall confirmed her suspicions. Matt was a violent interrogator, and he wasn’t finished asking questions. He must not have gotten what he wanted yet. She unpacked her mic, raised it to her cheek, and pressed the button.

“Talk to me guys,” she whispered.

“Tell me you’re on the roof and I’ll sing for you,” Ian said.

“I’m on the roof, but I don’t see the guys.”

“They’re six floors up stuck in an infestation. Never made it out of the stairwell.”

Purdy’s voice flooded her mic. “Ain’t for lack of trying.”

“Stormy, trust me, rappel down,” Stan said. “Don’t take the stairs or the elevator.”

“Your mic’s back up?” Stormy asked.

“I’m in and out.”

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah, but you don’t want to be in the middle of this. The lobby is completely infested. It’s Reamer all over again.”

“I think these assholes are worse,” Purdy said. “Like they come back quicker and hit harder. Oh, fuck. Stan, on your six—”

“Oh, and Stormy, Matt just got done beating the hell out of Stan. When you see him, just shoot. Don’t try talking to him. You hear me?”

“Yeah,” Stormy said, but she didn’t even convince herself.

She wanted to shoot Matt, but fate fogged her site every time. Shooting him wasn’t as easy as it should be.

“Guys, get down here now,” Ian said. “We’ve got cops responding and the streets are filling up.”

“I’m not leaving Stormy up there on her own,” Stan said.

“You need to go Stan,” she said. “You can’t get up here in time anyway.”

“Fuck that,” Stan said.

Gunfire filled the mic.

“Fine. I’ll just cover your damn six and my own,” Purdy said. “Pay attention, lazy ass.”

“Just get out of the building,” Stormy said. “I’ve got this.”

Police chatter and sirens came up on the line with Ian’s voice. “They’re going to cordon the area off, but the west side is going up last. We’ve got maybe ten minutes to get out of here.”

“Where’s Troy?” Stormy asked.

“Stuck on the interstate,” Ian said. “Sideswiped in a construction zone. He says sorry.”

“Everyone okay?” Stormy asked.

Gunshots rattled off before Purdy spoke. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, they’re all fine,” Ian said. “Mina says hi, Purdy.”

“Not a good time to start with me, Ian.”

“We’ve got supers outside now,” Ian said.

“Light them up,” Purdy said.

“No, put that down. Handgun first, Josh,” Ian said. “We don’t want to draw that much attention yet.”

Stormy could only guess, but her money was on Josh going straight for the grenades. They were his favorite.

“And for Christ’s sake Josh, take the damn mask off already,” Ian said. “I’m breathing it and I’m fine. See?”

Josh’s voice was muffled in the background of Ian’s open mic. “Even though the agent dispersed, I don’t like being out in the open like this.”             

Stormy sounded collected on the mic, but inside she wasn’t sure she could do this. It was never supposed to be her alone squaring off with Cold World, plus Matt. The fight didn’t scare her at all, but the potential for failure terrified her.

“Okay, I’m going in,” she said. “Matt’s got Cold World pinned down. Back in a minute.” She ripped her mic off before anyone could reply. Her sites were up when she rounded the wall.

Out in full view, she could feel her weapon’s weight more than ever. Her fingers strangled themselves around the barrel, her only life support. She had never felt more exposed and vulnerable, but at the same time, she had never felt stronger. At the end of this, she would either be over her fears or murdered by them.

Through her site, Stormy noticed the situation hadn’t changed. Matt lifted the male operative off the ground. His legs dangled beneath him like streamers. Matt shouted as he shook the man. She couldn’t risk firing, not while Matt was pummeling good intel out of the guy.

Finally, the operative couldn’t take it anymore and reached for his pocket. Matt released him and hovered, waiting for whatever the guy was offering. He produced a cell phone. Matt’s hand was inches from the cell when the operative snapped it in half. Matt lost it and paced out his fury in explosives bursts. The operative wasn’t facing Stormy, but the way he looked down at his partner and remained statue still told her enough about his reasons for courting death. 

Matt gave up on getting anything useful out of the operative and tossed him aside. His follower hovered above the cowering operative. Before he turned away for good, Matt patted the super on the back. He wasn’t even two steps away when the super pounced on top of the operative. He collected both pieces of the phone and flung them at the reeling Cold World operative. They skidded past him and came to a stop right in front of the woman. She made no attempt to retrieve them.

Stormy walked slowly and made calculated movements. Shooting from a standing position with little cover wouldn’t be an easy feat. She didn’t need to be too far from the wall, but moving in ten feet would improve her chances of shooting Matt in the head and not just taking his ear off. Her sites were locked, and her trigger finger was ready, when the wind swept gravel up and all over. She couldn’t see a thing and her mouth was full of grit. Every hurried breath gagged her. The source of the impromptu dust storm was obvious: a helicopter with a SWAT emblem on its side had joined the party.

CHAPTER THIRTY

DAY ONE—MINUTES INTO EPIDEMIC: 00:00:23

Stormy couldn’t get back behind the wall fast enough. On the other side, she took a deep breath and looked out again. The helicopter hovered over the rooftop sending waves of dust and gravel in all directions. It blinded her. Matt flattened himself on the rooftop with one arm over his face. Even if no one else survived, he would. Being dead already gave him an unfair advantage.

The helicopter hovered for several excruciating minutes and then circled the building. She waited for them to open fire. If these cops were as trigger happy as the ones back in the Business District, it wouldn’t be a long wait at all.

When the firing started, she realized there was no point in shooting. Badly outgunned, she dove down onto the rooftop and waited for the helicopter to move on. Seconds passed and the firing drew closer. She fought her limbs into motion. Her body didn’t want to move but her mind knew she had no choice. Bullets chipped at the brick wall behind her, inches from their target. Now completely blinded by grit, she slammed into the wall so hard she damn near bit through her tongue.

Dazed, but still in this fight, she low crawled back around the wall and prayed the helicopter didn’t follow her across the roof. Each arm length she sojourned felt like it took forever. Purdy’s voice rang out in her mind. Keep your head down. Pretend there is razor wire right above you. Lower. She could forget the razor wire. There were bullets flying overhead.

On the other side of the wall, she looked for cover, but there was no place to hide from an aerial threat. The helicopter whirred behind the wall for a moment, but instead of following her, it circled the rooftop again and opened up on Matt. When he didn’t put up a fight, rappel ropes dropped from the helicopter’s sides.

Stormy counted six SWAT uniforms. Twenty feet from her right, they hit the roof and bolted in Matt’s direction. She knew all six weren’t getting out of here alive. Odds were, none of them would.

The helicopter’s absence made the rooftop feel bigger. The newfound silence was intolerable. Laced with the distant droning of sirens, the eerie silence was a reminder that her ride was leaving or may have already left. She didn’t have to linger in the helicopter’s absence for long. Before Matt was on his feet again, the SWAT team moved into position around him.

“Drop to your knees and toss your weapons down,” the team lead said.

Matt swiped at the dirt on his jeans. “Don’t have any weapons.”

Guns lodged under cheeks. “Drop to your knees,” the team lead said.

“You really don’t want to do this,” Matt said.

The team lead stepped out in front of the rest.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Matt said.

Stormy shouted, but it was too late. Matt’s follower abandoned the still shaking Cold World operative and moved in on the SWAT team from the side. Matt nodded at him and the dance began.

Matt jumped at the team lead and snatched the weapon from his hand. He tossed it to the ground and kept pursuing. Matt snapped his neck and dropped him to the ground. Three of the team members got shots off at him, but they were backing up as they did it. Matt’s follower plowed into the team member closest to him. The pair had barely hit the ground when the super’s teeth disappeared into the man’s fleshy neck.

One team member broke off to cover the female Cold World operative. The rest fired at Matt. Stormy rose and took aim at Matt’s head as he walked willingly into the SWAT fire. He wasn’t hit yet, but she could fix that. The team members only had about three feet of rooftop left when her sites came into focus. She fired off three rounds before Matt walked within distance of his super, wrenched him up off his human meal, and tossed him at the SWAT members. The super collided with two of the team, which propelled all three bodies over the ledge. Wordless screams rang out. Wordless screams that said too much as they bore themselves into Stormy’s psyche. She repeatedly fired at Matt’s head, and missed.

The SWAT member that didn’t go over the ledge fired off a few more shots before diving down and rolling out of Matt’s way. He did a beautiful tuck-and-roll and was behind Matt opening fire a moment later. In one fluid movement, Matt whirled around and dropped down to dodge a bullet. On landing, his arm darted out, grabbed hold of the guy’s leg and pulled it out from under him. The guy’s head cracked on the concrete. Stormy winced at the sound. He didn’t move a muscle as Matt tugged him down the length of the rooftop. His gun dragged behind him by its strap, inches from his lifeless fingers. Matt abandoned the body to antagonize the female operative and her SWAT guard.

He wiped his hands on his jeans. “If you were smart you would have ran by now.”

The SWAT member fired on Matt.

Matt cracked his neck, smiled, and dove onto the guy. Stormy closed in from behind. He wasn’t killing anyone else on her watch. Something tan flashed in the corner of her site. The female operative was making a run for it. Stormy spun around and aimed at her. Before the female hit the stairs, Stormy shot her. Blood spurted out of the female’s leg as she collapsed palms first onto the concrete. Stormy hadn’t even turned back around when the SWAT member started to groan. The groans turned into gurgles.             

Matt rose from his crouch as their eyes met. “Thanks for the back up.” He closed the gap between them in slow, cocky movements.

“You can’t leave him like that,” she said.

“Shall I murder him?”

Stormy leveled her weapon at the man she had hoped to save only a minute ago. “Put him to rest or I will.”

Matt was in a deal making mood. He motioned over his shoulder at the SWAT member who was clearly in excruciating pain. “Bring me my girl and I’ll make sure he is casket presentable.”

“You go first.”

“You never trusted me. After all those years together.” Matt stood over the SWAT member, with his fingers evenly spaced on either side of the guy’s neck. The man’s skin flushed as Matt pressed down. Like a feather pillow, God’s fragile creation yielded in all the right places. Matt’s biceps pulsed for an instant when he wrenched the man’s neck to the side. The gurgling stopped. The twitching ended. Stormy could breathe again, but they weren’t good breaths. Solemn breaths, filled with failure, passed through her.

She filled her end of the bargain while Matt lit a cigarette. He had never smoked before, but it wasn’t like cancer was his biggest worry these days. The female operative had crawled to the elevator and had an eager arm extended toward the door. Stormy rested her rifle on her back and wrenched the operative up by her hair. She walked slower on the return trip, minding the hobble of her hostage. The bullet had destroyed the operative’s leg, but she didn’t say a word, didn’t utter a cry. Her chin was level with the ground the whole way back across the rooftop.
She’s the bitch from Reamer.

Matt rested against a barrier ledge like he was on break.

“I got to know why you are torturing these two,” Stormy said.

“Torture? No, not at all. I’m here to send a message. So are you, I imagine.”

Stormy refused to answer him.              

“This demon child is Jane,” he said.

Jane’s eyes leveled on Matt and her arms crossed in front of her. She seemed to be doing well enough on her own, so Stormy gave her distance.

“Jane is such a nice terrorist name,” Matt said. “I’m trying to send a message to your boss. You want to help me, don’t you?”

She smiled, but the pain showed through her gritted teeth. “They won’t listen.”

“Whether they listen or not is up to them,” Matt said. “Call your fucking boss now.”

Stormy wanted this over with. She didn’t want to help, but their goals happened to be the same at the moment. Her ride couldn’t wait forever. She aimed the rifle at Jane.

“You want to see how this works again?” Stormy said. “I’m doing demonstrations for free all day.”

Jane winced and faltered a bit. Stormy stepped forward to help her, and then backed up and let her fall. That could’ve been a trick. Ian warned her not to fall for shit like that.

Jane dug her cell phone out of her pocket and tossed it into the air. It was never going to make it all the way to Matt, but he jumped out and caught it. His speed took Stormy’s breath away.
How do you fight someone with reflexes like that and come away with all your limbs?

“Number,” Matt ordered.

Jane spewed some digits while looking over her shoulder at her partner who rolled around and groaned behind them. Matt clicked away at the phone. A minute later, he spewed threats into it.

“You don’t want to go back on our deal,” he said.

Stormy tried to absorb anything about his conversation that might be useful.

“I told you trials by the fifteenth,” he said.

Trials of what?
Clearly, Matt was in cahoots with Cold World, but she would need more brain power to figure out what they were concocting and how it would affect the rest of the world. She had some ideas, just not enough time to piece them all together because Matt kept talking.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “I am the approval authority. You need my permission to act. You take directives from me and me only. I don’t care if they told you to wait.”

The male operative writhed as he succumbed to the painful wounds that were ending his life and jettisoning him into another.

Matt was cool throughout the call. It reminded Stormy of the way he did business when he was alive. He would rage and rail and call his partners everything but children of God. As soon as the phone rang, the devil was gone and his partners were lovely, smart women again.

She brushed the thought aside and tried to focus. It was obvious that Cold World would be interested in Matt, but what did they have that he wanted? Absorbed in this thought, she barely noticed when Matt walked up behind Jane.

“Tell the truth, you went behind my back.” Matt wrenched her up by her hair.

She screamed for mercy. Stormy leveled her gun on Matt as he kicked Jane’s shot-to-hell leg. She let another scream go and it was far louder than the first. Matt offered the phone to her. She snatched if from him, and for the first time averted her eyes. Sweat rippled down her face, her chest heaved in and out, and her leg created a bloody pool beside her. Matt didn’t let go. He pulled her close and talked in her ear.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” he said.

Jane nodded. “Of course, I did.”             

“You were in on it,” Matt said.

“It was my friggin’ idea.”

“I thought you were bright. You really thought it was a good idea to move against my wishes?”

“You don’t own Cold World. They own you. You are their product.” She spit up blood, wiped her face, and her chin shot up in the air. “You will die badly for this.”

“You’re the one who’s going to die, not me. I already did.”

“So do it already. They’ll end you soon enough.”

“I’m done with you, but I don’t think she is.” Matt’s fingers dug into Jane’s cheek and forced her to look at Stormy. “That woman right there, yes, that one aiming the gun at me. She is my world. She gets whatever she wants, and she wants you my dear. All to herself, I imagine.”

Stormy wouldn’t let him get to her. Her fingers trembled on the weapon for a split second before she forced herself to snap out of it. How could he say those things? Matt always had a conniving spirit, but he had never tried to use it on her before. Or had he?

“So, I’m off to go kill your double crossing friends,” he said. “That man you’re engaged to, isn’t he one of the scientists at the production lab?”

Jane’s eyes scrunched up right away. It took her a solid thirty seconds to get her facade back together. Matt dropped his hold on her and she fell to the ground. He made his way to Stormy, who talked to him through her sites.

“Where’s your new boyfriend, Stormy? I brought my friends to meet him.”

She used to love hearing his voice say her name. Now the sound scared the shit out of her.

“He’ll be up in a minute.”

Matt played coy too well. “You know, back at Reamer I thought for sure we couldn’t be together, and that . . . that nearly did me in. It wasn’t until later I realized there might be a way. Sweetness, this,” Matt thrust his hands up around him, “this is a great day for us.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“I’ve come up with something wonderful for you. That little bitch tried to sabotage us, but I would never let that happen. This is our day. Our time. And this, this is a celebration for us.”

“This is the beginning of the apocalypse and you are disturbed.”

“This is not the time to play hard to get, sweetness. But there’s more to follow. I have business to do. I’ll see you soon.”

“Don’t do this Matt, whatever you have in mind. I swear, I’ll end you.”

He leapt at her. Stormy lost her aim as she tried to back up. His hands swallowed her shoulders before she could pull her head up. Her rifle smacked into her cheek in the commotion and it hurt like hell. Matt moved one hand to her face and grazed her bruising cheek. She fingered her belt in search of her knife.