The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion Book 2) (28 page)

“What’s our status?” It was hard not to sound clueless about what she was talking about, but at least there was one slight reassurance. Franklin apparently had access to an aerial drone and that would be a massive asset in keeping them all alive.

“The drone is reporting low population on the upper platform. Our target location appears to be secure and we should be able to access it with no difficulties.”

“Excellent.”

Nearing a bridge, Torran dove into the murky depths to avoid the eyes of the Scrags populating the walkway. Sifting through all his conversations with the SWD, Torran struggled to ascertain who could be behind the sabotage. He was convinced it wasn’t the SWD. Was it a rogue faction? Or was this some sort of top-secret mission approved by the president? But would the president authorize the murder of the squad? The veins in his temples pulsed with tension.

“Do you really think she’ll tell us where Vanguard Martinez is located?” There was a note of uncertainty in Franklin’s voice.

“Not immediately,” Torran answered. The message Solomon had sent after he dove into the river niggled at him. Boldly, he added, “But she’ll get desperate when rescue doesn’t come.” It was a gamble to say that much, but he decided to risk it.

“Which is exactly what Solomon is hoping for.”

“Solomon knows what’s she’s doing. She’s clever.”

Pushing to the surface of the water beneath the bridge, Torran tried to regulate his breathing as the air filters drew fresh air. Panic filled him and made his chest tight. He was trapped not only in a city filled with the undead, but in a web of lies spun by someone he should have been able to trust. Why did Chief Defender Solomon want Maria?

Lindsey surfaced behind him, but he avoided looking directly at her. How could he? Half the squad had died to lure her into a trap. That knowledge would crush her.

Torran swam into the sunlight, glad to be away from the darkness. Another beep indicated an incoming request from Lindsey, but Torran ignored it. Half the squad had been murdered and the raw anger burning through his veins was difficult for him to contain. Yet, he would have to in order to find out exactly what was going on. He had to keep calm and draw any information he could out of Franklin.

There was a splash behind him.

The general comm connection popped to life with a burst of static.

“They’re jumping from the bridge behind us,” Franklin cried out through the link.

Torran swiveled about, lungs and arms treading water to keep afloat. Lindsey gave the crowded bridge one frightened look and paddled furiously toward Torran.

“We’re almost there,” he called out encouragingly, waving toward the stairwell. “We need to hurry.”

As Lindsey propelled toward him, more Scrags leaped into the water. Franklin took up a defensive position behind Lindsey, holding her weapon out of the water. In theory, the firearm should work, and Torran hoped it would if they needed it. Torran popped the tab holding his weapon to his chest and swung it about through the murky water. At the same time, he called Lindsey on a secure comm.

She immediately answered in a breathless voice, “I’m coming.”

While Franklin was distracted by the Scrags, Torran knew he had to let Lindsey know what was happening. There might not be another chance. “Lindsey, listen. You’re in danger. And not just from the Scrags. The tiltrotor was sabotaged. It was meant to crash.”

“What? By who?” Disbelief filled her words.

“Not sure yet, but this was all done for one purpose. To isolate you and force you to reach out to Maria.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I was told,” Torran replied, realizing he was reluctant to expose the truth about Franklin. After losing Hobbes, he knew the news would crush Lindsey. Yet he had to tell her.

“Told by who?”

Her tone was ragged and possibly accusing.

Torran was about to answer when a Scrag erupted from the water, shrieking as it lunged toward Lindsey. As the creature reached for her, Lindsey kicked out, managing to drive her boot into the Scrag’s chest. The impact drove the Scrag away as Lindsey surged backward. The waters closed over the Scrag’s head as it disappeared from view. Bubbles and foam flecked the spot where it vanished as the ripples expanded outward.

Torran switched the main comm link. “Don’t fire unless you have to!”

More Scrags were hurling into the river from the bridge. They flailed about once they hit the surface, churning up the water as they sank. A few barely stayed aloft with their wild thrashing, but didn’t appear know how to advance on the living.

Meanwhile, Lindsey swam in a wide arc toward Torran in an attempt to avoid the submerged Scrag while Franklin trailed behind her.

“Where’s the Scrag?” Lindsey gasped. “Where’d it go?”

“It sank.” At least Torran hoped it had. He couldn’t see it beneath the oily, trash covered surface.

“I think it pushed up from the bottom. The water isn’t as deep here,” Franklin observed.

Torran jerked his foot upward as something hit against it. “They’re under us!”

“Keep swimming,” Lindsey ordered.

Arms smacking hard against the water, she aimed for the bank near the base of the stairwell. The enclosed tube glinted in the fading sunlight and now that they were closer, Torran saw that the entrance was definitely secure. The transparent casing of the passageway was covered in years of dirt and grime, but appeared intact. Following behind, Torran struggled to keep his body as close to the surface now that he was aware of the creatures lurking below.

Several Scrags burst out of the water. Clawed hands reached for him and Lindsey. Torran swung the butt of his weapon into the face of one and brutally kicked at the other. He heard Lindsey struggling, but was trapped by the two he was fighting. Slamming the weapon into the heads of both of them, Torran tried to knock the undead away, but the Scrags doggedly grabbed at his arms and torso. The water kept closing over his head, but by forcefully scissoring his legs he managed to bob up to the surface again. The hands of the water-logged Scrags ripped at him, but their sodden flesh tore from the bone. Each time he struck their screeching faces, more skin and muscle tore away.

Lindsey appeared beside him. Her helmet was covered in blood, but it was on the outside and dripping into the river. Grabbing his arm, she swung her body about and planted her feet on the chests of the Scrags. With a violent shove, she broke them free of Torran. Franklin descended on the Scrags from behind and her knife flashed as she furiously stabbed the creatures through the head.

Torran was wondering where the other Scrags Lindsey had been fighting were when they seized him and Lindsey. Together, they went under into the darkness. Terror ripped at Torran, but he fought against its paralyzing power, trusting the armor would buy them a few precious minutes. Using his weapon, he shoved away the grasping hands and snarling faces that were barely illuminated by the helmet lights. Blood filled the space around him and his feet touched the bottom of the river. Driving his boots into the mud, he tried to get enough leverage to knock his assailants completely away. Hands slashed through the bloody, dirty water.

“Got them,” Franklin grunted.

More blood filled the water until all he saw was red. Then he was free of the grasping digits.

“Stealth on,” he choked out. “And let’s get the hell out of here.”

Chapter 27

Pulling her body slowly out of the water, Lindsey sagged as gravity dragged her to the flagstones on the bank. The weight of her body, armor and weapons made it hard to move at first, but then her muscles remembered their purpose and she yanked her legs out of the water. On hands and knees, she inched along the edge of the river. It was unsettling to see her hands and arms melding into her surroundings, only given away by quivering around the edges. Reaching a stairway that lead to the street, she hunkered beside it.

Without the constant influx of information onto her helmet screen, Lindsey was disoriented. The only feed she was receiving was from the armor of her companions. The dots on her locator indicated they were drawing closer to her location. With her own eyes, she barely made out their wavering forms against the backdrop of the river.

Meanwhile, the Scrags screeched and thrashed in the water as they continued to search for prey in the churning waves.

“They think we’re still in the water.” Torran lowered his voice even though his external helmet speakers were off and he was on the general comm.

His earlier confession still didn’t seem real, but Lindsey trusted he was telling the truth. The squad had been murdered in order to strand her and force her to reach out to Maria. Yet how did Torran know? Certainly not before the crash. He would have never allowed Hobbes and the others to die, or allowed her to be in a doomed aircraft. Which meant...

Closing her eyes, Lindsey shuddered as she realized Franklin had betrayed her. It had to be the other survivor, yet why would Franklin say anything to Torran? Was it because he was SWD? That didn’t make sense, since Franklin was Constabulary. Lindsey’s head hurt, and she wanted nothing more than to press her fingertips to her temples. If only she could have a second or two to gather her thoughts, she’d figure out what was going on and be able to plan.

Pounding footsteps on the stairs next to her pulled her attention up. Scrags were flowing down the stairwell from the street. Clearly, the creatures were drawn by the commotion of the Scrags splashing in the water. Breath catching in her throat, Lindsey clutched her weapon tighter as the undead streamed toward the river. Fearfully, she searched for Torran and Franklin. She barely saw the disruption of their suits as they darted out of the way of the oncoming rush. The suits started to fluctuate as the helmet cameras attempted to adjust the image the suits were projecting to maintain their stealth.

“Don’t move!” Lindsey cried out. “I can almost see you.”

The dots on her screen froze in place.

“If they bump us, they’ll know we’re here,” Franklin rasped.

“Hold your position,” Torran ordered. “Let the suits adjust.”

Squatting against the side of the stairwell, Lindsey set her back against the wall and aimed her weapon at the filthy undead beings. The virus preserved their almost life-like appearance, yet their clothes were mere scraps, their hair a tangled mess, and their bodies were covered in years of muck. Their screaming mouths and wild eyes were nightmarish in their inhumanity. Lindsey gulped, fighting the tremors in her hands. The soldiers were so vulnerable in their position, only hidden by suits that would soon have to recharge.

A Scrag struck one of the soldiers, spinning them both about. On her screen, it indicated that the soldier was Torran. Lindsey sucked air through her teeth, trying not to cry out and make the situation worse by distracting him. The Scrag twisted about, clearly looking for what it had hit. Letting out terrifying shrieks, the male Scrag with a ratty gray beard and bald head stretched out its hands, seeking possible prey. The suits of both soldiers briefly flashed as the projected images again attempted to adjust. Torran was on the ground, and Franklin was barely a few inches from the Scrag. The other undead continued into the water, drawn by the wildly howling and splashing Scrags, but it would take just one creature identifying new prey to draw their attention to the shore again.

“Don’t move,” Torran whispered. “Franklin, stay still.”

“He’s almost touching me,” she answered sounding close to panic.

“If you move, he’ll see you,” Torran responded.

“I have you covered,” Lindsey promised. “If he touches you, duck.”

“You fire, Rooney, and they’ll be on us in seconds,” Torran reminded her.

The stream of Scrags coming down the stairs was now a trickle, and most of the herd was in the river. They were so agitated, they were fighting with each other.

“We’ll make a run for it,” Lindsey answered. “They’ll have to get out of the water.”

The male Scrag swiped at the air again, eyes wide and searching. Franklin held her position, but her breath was ragged. Torran remained on the ground behind her, unmoving as the final few Scrags dashed into the river churning with the flailing bodies of the undead.

The Scrag took a slight step toward Franklin and wildly lashed out. From the slight wavering in the air, it looked like Franklin dodged under his arms.

“He almost had me!”

“I have an idea,” Torran said. “Franklin, when I tell you, shove him backward. We’ll toss him into the river.”

“I might become visible for a few seconds,” Franklin protested.

“You’re going to anyway when he touches you, and then we’ll have to take defensive actions,” Torran snapped. “Do it.”

“I can’t push him that far!”

“Do it!” Torran ordered.

“Obey him, Franklin!” Lindsey rose to her feet and took aim. “I have you covered.”

With a cry of fear and frustration, Franklin lunged forward and hit the Scrag with her weapon. The suit shimmered at the impact as the Scrag stumbled back. It stopped a few feet from the edge of the water and screeched. Torran was instantly on his feet and ran at the creature. Lindsey could see his suit rippling as it attempted to adjust to his surroundings. Torran leaped upward, lashed out at the Scrag with one leg, struck the creature in the chest, and knocked him back the last few feet into the water.

“Now run!” Torran urged.

Most of the Scrags appeared to be drawn, yet disoriented by the events on the shore, but a few started to claw at the stone bank to pull themselves up. Lindsey darted around the bottom of the stairwell and hurried up the steps. On her screen, she saw Franklin and Torran rushing after her. The stairwell was L-shaped, and she hit the first landing and looked back. Scrags were crawling onto the shore. With the stealth suits flickering, the three soldiers were in dire danger. Whipping about, she swiftly ascended the final flight to the street level.

The road was filled with the debris of buildings and vehicles. A few Scrags were darting about in confusion, unsure of where to go as the howls of their comrades ricocheted off the structures around them. The tube to the upper city was a block away. The entrance was shut, which was a relief, but also an obstacle. They’d have to force the doors open before the stealth function in their suits had to reboot.

“Rooney, status,” Torran said.

“I got a dozen Scrags scattered over the street. Entrance is shut.”

“We’ve got some Scrags on the shore looking for us but not pursuing,” Torran informed her.

“That entrance is going to be a bugger opening.” Lindsey raised her weapon as she scooted past a decaying pod car and aimed at the Scrag still strapped inside.

“I have a remote generator in my bag,” Franklin announced. “I grabbed it on my way out of the crash.”

“Excellent work, Franklin,” Torran said.

Lindsey glanced toward Franklin and Torran as they reached the street. She could barely make out their forms, which was a good thing. The suits were rapidly adjusting to their new environment, but they were still in terrible danger out in the open.

Fury washed over Lindsey once again. Franklin was the reason so many were dead at the bottom of the infested river, and why Lindsey and Torran were trapped in the Scrag-ridden city.

An undead child stumbled around the remains of an aircraft. It was a little girl around three years old. The bite on its forearm sent a shiver through Lindsey as she recalled the attack at the Beta City Depot. The child was naked and her chubby arms and legs were covered in what appeared to be dried blood. The impulse to protect and comfort filled Lindsey, yet she knew this dirty cherubic creature with masses of dark hair and gray-tinged skin was death incarnate. The tiny lips parted and the horrific Scrag screech emanated from the girl’s throat. It was a questioning sound. It was a noise she’d heard before. It was as if the Scrags called out to each other.

Moving very slowly, Lindsey attempted to give the child wide berth. Downed limbs of the horse-chestnut trees littered the cracked and buckled sidewalk, making it difficult to maneuver without a sound. Torran and Franklin caught up to Lindsey’s position, and their dots on her helmet slowed to a stop.

“She’ll call the others,” Lindsey said in warning. “So we need to be careful.”

The little girl Scrag crawled over a gnarled branch and gave out another questioning screech.

Further down the road, from where the three soldiers had come from, came the answering shrieks from the Scrags on the bank and river.

A lump formed in her throat as Lindsey watched the long dead child toddle past her. The ugly wound on her plump arm told the terrible story of her demise. Who had bitten her? A parent? Sibling? Stranger? The small fat feet were chaffed and bloody from walking over sharp pebbles and shards of glass. A part of Lindsey wanted to shoot the child and put her out of her eternal misery, yet she also wished she could pick up the little girl and somehow save her.

Franklin moved so fast, Lindsey didn’t realize what she was doing until the little girl was on the ground and Franklin was jerking her dagger out of her skull. Breathing heavily, Franklin said, “It’s not right to let her live like that.”

“You took an unnecessary risk,” Torran snapped. “She was almost past us.”

“She would have called the others,” Franklin retorted, but it was clear that hadn’t been her motive.

Had the little girl reminded Franklin of a sibling? Cousin? Maybe herself? Lindsey had to wonder.

Raising her gaze from the dead child, Lindsey saw Scrags stepping off the stairwell onto the sidewalk behind them. Uncertain, the creatures called out, then waited for the child Scrag to answer.

“Keep moving,” she directed, then turned toward the entrance.

It was nerve-wracking moving so slowly through the shattered remains of another era. A few times, they had to venture close to the undead pinned beneath collapsed buildings or still trapped in vehicles. A few of the Inferi Scourge that had been wandering about in the street were drawn to the throng still clustered at the top of the stairs to the riverbank. From their hesitant, questioning noises, it was clear the Scrags were uncertain where to go. It was terrifying to realize that they actually hunted for victims. No wonder humanity had been doomed.

Lindsey edged around a rusted drone and was relieved to see she was almost to the entrance. The doors were stained and as she drew closer, she saw that some of the stains looked like smeared handprints. Nervously, she raised her eyes to examine the long cylinder that housed the stairwell to the upper city.

“What if they’re inside?” she asked.

“Hold up and give me a second,” Franklin said, sounding less and less like a soldier under their command.

Since she was part of a conspiracy to trap Maria, Lindsey supposed Franklin really wasn’t a part of their team anymore.

Franklin withdrew the binoculars from her pack and flipped on the stealth. The three soldiers stood perfectly still while Franklin studied the long transparent passage. From Lindsey’s perspective, the smudged tube appeared to be devoid of life. There wasn’t any movement near the bottom level at least.

“I don’t see any signs of Scrags,” Franklin said after a long pause. “There are some areas that look like they’re damaged, but we should be able to get past them.”

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Torran replied. “More are coming out of the water, and we’ll be visible shortly.”

“Let’s do this,” Lindsey said, and charged forward with the others on her heels.

Reaching the entrance, she gave the exterior a cursory glance. Signs in various languages were plastered over the door. Most were warnings about Infer Scourge infestations and safety procedures. One of the warnings was not to enter the tube if the plague broke out in the city.