The Extinction Code

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Authors: Dean Crawford

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Men's Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thriller & Suspense, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Alien Invasion, #First Contact, #Genetic Engineering, #Thriller, #action, #Adventure

BOOK: The Extinction Code
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Table of Contents

THE EXTINCTION CODE

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

XVI

XVII

XVIII

XIX

XX

XXI

XXII

XXIII

XXIV

XXV

XXVI

XXVII

XXVIII

XXIX

XXX

XXXI

XXXII

XXXIII

XXXIV

XXXV

XXXVI

XXXVII

XXXVIII

XXXIX

XL

XLI

XLII

XLIII

XLIV

THE EXTINCTION CODE

© 2016 Dean Crawford

Published: 29th April 2016

ASIN: B01EWSGU72

Publisher: Fictum Ltd

The right of Dean Crawford to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved.

Dean Crawford Books

I

Varginha, Brazil

1996

‘Move, and tell nobody where you’re going!’

Corporal Rodrigo Martinez almost fell over himself as he dashed toward the truck parked nearby in the compound, one of several normally only used by engineers, not junior infantry soldiers. The Colonel had been precise in his instructions, adamant in fact, that Rodrigo should follow his orders to the letter, and there had been no mistaking in his cold tones the consequences of his failure to do so.
Be there on time, or you’ll never see your family again.

Rodrigo clambered into the truck and started the engine, the cab sweltering after a day spent stationary beneath a summer sun beating down from the hard blue sky above. Now, the sky was almost dark but for the last glow of sunset behind the hills, and the town to the south was a flickering constellation of lights against the darkness. The diesel engine belched a cloud of brown smoke as he crunched the vehicle into gear, the compound gates already opening as he accelerated forward and drove out of the Tres Coracoes Army base.

Rodrigo followed the road south as instructed, heading toward town and allowing nothing to block his route. The battered old truck rattled and thumped as Rodrigo drove, his rifle alongside him in the passenger seat. His police uniform was hot and uncomfortable but he was glad of the fresh breeze billowing in through the open cab windows. The smell of the wilderness gusted around him from the depths of the night, and it was then that he noticed the lights appearing in the sky.

Across the valley he could see a stream of lights descending the main road toward the outskirts of the city, heading it seemed toward the same location as he was. For a moment he thought that they were illuminated objects flying through the air until he recognized them as headlights, the occasional flare of a brake light visible as the vehicles braked while descending the steep hillside. Moments later, the radio was alive with chatter.


Lo has visto?
Have you seen it?’


No, donde esta?
Where is it?’


En la ciudad la gente tiene miedo.
In the city, the people are afraid.’

Rodrigo glanced at the radio, uncertain of what to make of the chatter as he descended the hillside and turned onto the beltway road that bypassed the city center and headed for the edge of the wild ground to the north–west. Ahead, he saw the other vehicles turn away from him, all heading in the same direction. Military Police, he identified their plates, streaming toward a location identical to his own.

Another voice on the radio channel.


De donde viene desde?
Where did it come from?’

The reply sent a cold chill down Rodrigo’s spine.


Se bajo del cielo.
It came down from the sky.’

Suddenly the radio channel was cut off and Rodrigo could hear nothing but static. He twiddled the controls but nothing came through, the static hissing through the cab but the vehicles ahead of him still forging toward their target.

Rodrigo kept driving, pursued by the sense that something very odd was happening further up the road. He realized that he was gripping the wheel tightly, his knuckles showing white through his skin, and he chuckled at himself as he let his tension go and forced himself to relax as he drove. There was nothing to worry about, and whatever was driving the military police up the wall would likely turn out to be nothing more than a crashed airplane.

The thought that there could be injured survivors of an aircraft crash galvanized Rodrigo and he prepared himself for the worst. The region’s harsh terrain and violent weather were often precursors to aviation accidents, and the horrific aftermath of such incidents haunted even the hardest of minds.

The convoy ahead of Rodrigo began to slow down, and he eased into line behind a four–ton truck loaded with soldiers. They peered out at him, faces hard, no smiles, no waves. Rodrigo kept his anxiety at bay, tried to ignore a clairvoyant concern nipping at the heels of his awareness as he saw the trucks being waved through a military cordon just ahead.

The armed guards at the makeshift cordon glanced at Rodrigo’s identity card as he eased alongside them, and he saw one of the soldiers tick off his name against a list that he held in his hand. Rodrigo wondered how on earth he had been selected for what seemed like quite a major assignment as he was waved through the cordon and he followed the line of trucks down between ranks of trees toward an area that he knew to be mostly wasteland, scattered copses of trees around a lethargic stream that ran down from the hills.

The convoy suddenly split up before Rodrigo and formed a loose semi–circle of vehicles as the troops spilled out, their rifles held at the ready. They fanned out and away from their trucks, forming an imposing ring of soldiers as Rodrigo pulled up and killed the truck’s engine. He climbed out of the cab and looked at the soldiers’ faces; all of them were young, minor ranks and recruits. All of them were staring out toward him, their backs to whatever was in the center of the ring of trucks, apparently too cowed by their superiors into doing anything other than precisely what they were told.

‘Maintain position!’ a voice echoed faintly, the only officer that Rodrigo could see emerging from the ring of vehicles. ‘Face outward and don’t you dare look behind you or you’ll spend the rest of your lives behind bars!’

The soldiers all yelled their compliance back at their Captain, and Rodrigo almost obeyed himself before he recalled that the Army man had no authority over him unless direct orders from the government said that he did. A tall man with a thick moustache and a back so straight it seemed he was on the verge of toppling over, directed his stern glare at Rodrigo.

‘Martinez?’

It sounded more like an accusation than a request, and Rodrigo nodded. ‘Yes sir.’

‘With me,’ the captain said.

Rodrigo noticed that although the officer wore the shoulder insignia of a captain, he could see no identification patches on his uniform. He hurried to keep pace as the officer directed him past the vehicles.

‘Over there,’ he ordered. ‘You’re on watch on the hillside. I’ve been advised that you’re a model soldier, you were recommended. Ensure that you continue in that vein and stop anybody who tries to enter this area. Complete your duties and forget that you were ever here, understood?’

‘Yes sir,’ Rodrigo replied.

The captain turned away toward the nearby forest, and Rodrigo clambered up the hillside. As he climbed, so he saw a glow coming from within the forest nearby. It shimmered and flickered, one moment green, the next red, then blue and white, as though a kaleidoscope were passing across beams of light that pierced the misty forest gloom. Rodrigo flinched as a harsh whisper cut the silence.

‘Don’t look at it!’

Rodrigo turned to see a policeman standing on the hillside, beckoning him urgently over. ‘They’ve already arrested two men for looking!’

Rodrigo hurried across to the young policeman, whose uniform bore the name Marco Eli Chereze.

‘What’s over there?’ he asked.

‘It came down an hour ago and I was close to the scene in my patrol car. That’s why they kept me here on guard, because I’d already seen it.’

‘Seen
what
?’ Rodrigo asked in exasperation.

‘The machine,’ Marco replied, struggling for his words. ‘That’s all that I can call it.’

Rodrigo frowned in confusion and then a sharp crack echoed through the forest nearby and he flinched as he turned, one hand moving to the butt of the pistol in its holster at his side. Marco also turned, raised his rifle.

The faint glow from within the forest cast enough light through the foliage for Rodrigo to detect a hint of movement, as though something were huddling among the ferns and bushes nearby.

‘You see that?’ Rodrigo asked.

‘Yes,’ Marco replied, edging closer to it. ‘It’s probably a dog or something.’

Rodrigo followed him, one hand still on his pistol as they approached the bushes. Rodrigo was about to say something when Marco coughed and turned his head to one side in disgust, and then the smell hit Rodrigo too. An overpowering stench of ammonia soaked the air, sufficient that Rodrigo coughed also and his eyes blurred as he winced and turned away.

Marco covered his mouth with one forearm, the rifle held in one hand as he advanced. Rodrigo sensed danger and cried out, his voice taut.

‘Don’t go near it!’

The bushes shivered as whatever was within tried to escape as Marco came within a yard of the foliage.

‘Come out whoever you are! We’re police, and we’re armed with…’

Marco’s sentence was cut short by an inhuman screech, a terrifying, wretched cry that soared from the bushes across the hillside. Rodrigo felt his guts convulse as something leaped from the bushes, a thin yet muscular form with sinewy skin that shone in the faint light as it rushed at Marco, its small mouth agape and its huge eyes wide with rage.

Marco’s rifle fired, the shot deafeningly loud in the darkness, and the creature’s enraged cry was twisted sharply with agony as it swung for Marco. A long–fingered hand smashed across the young policeman’s chest and hurled him backwards into the bushes as the creature rushed past them and vanished into the darkness.

Rodrigo stood in horror, paralyzed by what he had seen, his hand frozen in place on his pistol still lodged in its holster. His brain seemed to have gone into slow motion, processing and re–processing the terrible sight of that awful creature leaping from the darkness like a demon from his nightmares to…

Shouts alerted him and he heard men swarming up the hillside toward their position, search lights sweeping the forest as they rushed into the woods and saw Rodrigo standing rooted to the spot.

‘Where is Chereze?!’ the captain demanded as he stormed in among his men.

Rodrigo tried to reply but his voice would not work. Instead he simply pointed to the foliage nearby where Marco had fallen. The captain hurried across to see Marco hauling himself to his feet.

‘Did you see it?!’ the captain roared. ‘Did it touch you?!’

Marco nodded. ‘Here, it hit me, but it only knocked me over and…’

The captain turned away from Marco and spoke into his radio. Within minutes, the soldiers had surrounded them and doctors marched onto the hillside bearing a stretcher and a large tent of translucent plastic. Rodrigo stood and watched as they erected the tent and ordered Marco inside.

‘But I’m fine,’ Marco protested. ‘Shouldn’t we go after the…’

‘Silence!’ the captain roared. ‘Put him in!’

Before Marco could react a doctor plunged a needle into his arm. Marco yelped in pain and staggered away from the medical team, but within moments his legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed onto the forest floor. Rodrigo watched as Marco was lifted onto a stretcher and into the tent, which was sealed behind him.

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