AB (The Blake Reynolds Chronicles Book 1) (20 page)

BOOK: AB (The Blake Reynolds Chronicles Book 1)
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Day 14, 9:00 am: Lord Dameon
 

Once Lord
Dameon reached the center of his brothers, he headed to the communication
center. He immediately checked on the status of the installation of the last
component. A man in a white lab coat reported that it had been installed and would
be ready in less than thirty minutes, as they were finishing the last of the
system checks. It would then would take a few minutes to power up and point the
dish. The message was already programmed into the computer, and Lord Dameon just
needed to hit the enter key.

Lord Dameon
left the building feeling that victory was at hand. He walked to the white
church where the explosive devices were stored and decided they should be armed
in case they were overrun. Once he stepped into the room, one of the bomb
technicians greeted him with a warm embrace.

“From the look
on your face, it appears that you are ready for me to do my work.”

Lord Dameon placed
his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I need you to arm the bombs just in case
our brothers and sisters are not able to keep the unclean at bay for another thirty
minutes.”

“Yes, my Lord. It
will be ready for your activation in five minutes. How long of a countdown do
you want?”

“I suppose sixty
seconds should be enough.”

The brother
nodded his head and went to work. Lord Dameon walked into the small chapel to get
reports from his field commanders. One by one, they reported that they had lost
half of their brothers and sisters. However, the enemies were running of
bullets so they were starting to get the upper hand.

The report pleased
Lord Dameon. “Keep up the attack. It sounds like victory is close at hand. We
will either wipe out the enemy army or we will be sacrificed to get our message
sent. Then nothing else matters.”

Each of the
leaders left the room to personally manage the final attack in their areas.

Day 14, 9:00 am: Tara
 

Tara’s pulse
raced as she rushed towards the crumbling front lines. Their group had been brought
in to support the eastern side of the attack. Other than when she had fought in
the arena the week prior, she hadn’t been in close-quarters combat since basic
training. As she looked around, the look of fear and death was on the faces of
the men, women, and teenagers that charged with her.

She was armed
with nothing but her 1911 handgun and a large knife, which rested in its scabbard.
She knew that she only had about one hundred rounds of ammunition in the five
clips she carried, so it was likely that the knife would be needed.

When she was
within fifty yards of the front line, a chill ran down her spine. She had been
in combat zones before, but it was always behind the stick of a helicopter. Her
Marine Corps training ran through her mind as she approached. She prayed that it
all would come back to her like it had in the arena.

As her group
arrived, the lines they were sent to support had fallen back towards her
direction. As the soldiers saw the reinforcements rushing to their aid, it gave
them renewed strength. They pushed the enemy back with new determination.

Suddenly, Tara
screamed in battle fury. One by one, she took aim at AB monsters in front of
her, and they fell to the ground. With her and several of the other
reinforcements’ help, they cleared out a small pocket of ABs in their area. Tara
and many others formed a circle, all breathing heavily and covered in blood and
gore. No one in their group had any more rounds of ammunition. If they still
carried their rifles, they were using them as clubs. Most had their knives in
hand.

One of the
remaining lieutenants shouted out, “Tighten the circle and leave no gaps!” The
circle became smaller. At first, it appeared that the enemy was retreating. But
as Tara watched, she realized they were actually regrouping and preparing for a
counterattack.

Tara’s breath
was flowing fast and hard as she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her group. Any
second, the enemy would attack, and it could be her last moment on Earth.

Day 14, 10:00 am: Blake
 

Blake made his way
through the gap in the lines with twenty-five of his men at a full run. He felt
confident the others would be able to handle the light but constant assault. He
ordered his small band to head for the old white church. Blake had a feeling
that was where they would be keeping the nukes. It appeared that once inside
the enemy lines the ABs had little defenses.

The runner with
the antibody bomb had a hard time keeping up with the rest of the group as he
carried the precious package. As Blake and his men sprinted to cover the mile
and a half to get to the church, what he started to hear over the radio caused
his heart to sink. The western front was starting to collapse, and the soldiers
and sailors were starting to fall back to the beach. Blake knew that they
didn’t have long. They kept moving forward, taking out every enemy that they
came across. Their pace became slow but constant.

Day 14, 10:00 am: Lord Dameon
 

Lord Dameon was
receiving updates every five minutes from the techs in the communication center
and from his commanders. He was told that the transmitter should be ready in
ten minutes, and it appeared that his brothers should have the battle won in
the next fifteen minutes, albeit at an exceedingly high cost. All this made him
say a quick prayer thanking the creators for their considerable fortunes.

Day 14, 10:05 am: Tara
 

The enemy
launched their counterattack on Tara’s small group. The ABs were so thick that
Tara couldn’t see an end to them. Most were armed with sticks and rocks, and a
few who seemed to be the leaders carried sidearms. However, they weren’t using
them. Tara assumed it was because they had also run out of bullets.

Wave after wave
of ABs rushed at them. Most of the civilians had been killed, and only a few
that were ex-military survived. Their training in hand-to-hand combat skills
gave them an advantage, and Tara noticed how many bodies surrounded them. Occasionally,
one person in the group of survivors would fall, and the circle would tighten
more.

The lieutenant
yelled at Tara to get her attention. “Hey, you! Catch!” He threw her his mobile
radio.

Tara caught the
radio instinctively.

“Fall back to
the center of the circle and call command and see if there are any more reinforcements
coming,” the lieutenant shouted.

Tara made her
way to the center and was pressing the button on the radio as she yelled with a
panicked voice. “Command, do you copy? Command, do you copy?” There was nothing
but static. Once again, she clicked the button. This time, she tried shouting a
little louder to drown out the sounds of the surrounding battle. “Command, do
you copy?” This time, the voice of a young woman came over the radio.

“This is Command,
over.”

“Command, we
need reinforcements on the eastern front. We are about to be overrun.”

The girl on the
other end sounded frantic. “There are no more soldiers or civilians to send. Everyone
here is either engaging the enemy or dead. The only ones left are medics and
wounded.”

“What are your
orders then?” Tara yelled.

The only thing
that came over the radio was the sobs of the girl. Tara slowly lowered the
radio to her side in disbelief; Command didn’t know what to do.

Day 14, 10:06 am: Blake
 

Blake had been
monitoring the chatter over the radio as they made their way forward. It
sounded like two of the lines had collapsed and the southern line was in
jeopardy. However, what Blake heard next caused his adrenaline to race. He
thought that he heard Tara calling out for help. Blake ordered all of his men
to halt and take cover a couple hundred yards from the church.

Blake clicked
the microphone on his radio. “Who is this?”

He heard
muffled noises before she spoke. “Blake, is that you?”

“Tara! What’s
your status?”

“I’m in a group
of fifty survivors on the eastern front. Things are very serious here. We are
surrounded by hundreds of ABs, and there’s no place to retreat. All our ammunition
is gone, and we’re fighting hand-to-hand.”

Blake gripped
the radio tighter. “What is your location?”

“We are about
three miles due east of the old white church and—” Her voice was shaky and
quick before the radio went dead.

“Tara!” Blake
yelled over the radio. There was no reply.

Blake’s first
thought was to order his men to save Tara’s group. However, the soldier in him
kicked in. He knew he was humanity’s best chance to shut down the transmission
and retrieve the nukes. He threw off his helmet and rubbed his temples with his
fingers for a few seconds. One of his patrol leaders ran up from the back.

“Major, we have
movement 400 yards out. What are your orders?”

This brought
Blake's thoughts back into the fight. He turned and called for the private
carrying the antigen bomb. “Take the pack off and help me take out the
package.”

Both men slowly
removed the large cylinder and slid it out of its container. “I guess we’re
close enough to the center of the ABs. The winds are calm now. Let’s see if
this thing works.”

Blake removed
the key from around his neck and inserted it into the lock. After he turned it,
a couple of lights started to flash, and a large red button appeared from the
side. Blake carried the container to the middle of the street.

“Here goes
nothing.” He pushed the red button and ran back to his soldiers’ position. A
circle of lights started to flash around the top of the cylinder. Slowly at
first, but then it flashed much faster. There was a small explosion, and a
white mist shot straight into the air.

Blake and his
patrol leaders looked at each other, wondering what was next. They thought this
powerful secret weapon should have done something more grandiose.

Day 14, 10:06 am: Tara
 

As Tara was
about to give Blake the directions to their group in hopes of getting some
reinforcements, an AB somehow leaped over the front line of their group and
landed in front of Tara. Before she had a chance to react, the tall thin AB man
smashed the radio that she held in her hand with a large pipe.

The radio hit
the ground, and a few sparks leaped out the side. Tara’s right hand was
slightly numb from the impact, but luckily she was holding her knife in her
left hand while she was using the radio. She rolled under the sideswipe of the
AB’s club and brought her knife straight up through his jaw into his brain.
Blood ran down her arm as the AB stood there twitching as the life drained out
of it. Tara looked around and men were falling at a regular rate now. All that
Tara could think was, “Blake, please hurry.”

Day 14, 10:15 am: Lord Dameon
 

Lord Dameon
walked out the door from the old white church towards the communication
building. Suddenly, he heard a small explosion close by. He turned to see the
source of the sound, but before he could locate it, his personal guards, who
followed him constantly, rushed him over to the communication building.

As they ran
across the street, a messenger approached him. “Sir, I want to report. There is
an enemy patrol not far from the church, and they are headed this way.”

Lord Dameon
wondered how this could be. He had just received a report that the enemies were
either dead or retreating. He had also heard that the transmitter would be
ready in minutes.

He turned to
the small handful of messengers that followed him everywhere. “Tell our
commanders to have all our brothers and sister return. The time is at hand.”

The runners
left without saying a word. Lord Dameon assumed it would be about five minutes
before everyone arrived, but he still wanted to celebrate with his surviving
brothers and sisters.

He ordered the
fifty men that were guarding the communication building to meet with the guards
at the church and eliminate any approaching enemies. Lord Dameon hurriedly
entered the building and walked directly to the control room to finally contact
the creators.

Day 14, 10:20 am: Blake
 

Blake could see
the ABs down the street rushing towards them. He turned to the two closest
patrol leaders. “I want you two to take your platoon on the west side of the
church. Provide cover for each other. I will lead the other two platoons on the
east side. We need to strike hard and fast so the enemy doesn’t have time to set
off the nukes before we engage them. Now move!”

Blake knew that
if they didn’t run into too much resistance, they would reach the building in
only a minute before the enemy reinforcements arrived. He silently gave the
sign to his men to attack, and they all sprinted straight through without
ducking for cover.

As they reached
the cars parked across the street from the building, one of the AB guards on
the back of the building spotted them and fired. Several soldiers returned fire
with their pistols, and the AB guard dropped to the ground. However, the damage
had been done; reinforcements ran around the corners of the building and fired
at Blake and his men.

The group on
the other side had not been spotted yet, so they made their way within yards of
the building. They opened fire at the AB guards and rushed passed.

Blake couldn’t
wait to see if all the AB guards had been taken out and gave a hand signal to
circle the church. He was the first to enter the front door followed by his two
platoons. The other platoon took cover and fired on the advancing enemy marching
across the street.

As Blake
stepped inside the church, a female and male AB in lab coats charged him with
metal coat racks. Blake took them out with two shots.

“Start checking
the rooms!” Blake ordered. One by one, the rooms were cleared of all ABs. He wondered
if he had guessed wrong about the bombs being there but then he heard a slight
muffled sound coming from behind the basement door.

Blake silently
signaled to two of his men to follow him downstairs. He wanted to surprise whoever
was behind it so he rolled a grenade to the base of the door. The explosion
sent pieces of wood flying in every direction. After a couple of seconds, the
smoke cleared. Blake and his men ran down the short flight of stairs to the
basement.

Smoke and dust
filled the air, but he could still see a short man in the corner wearing a
dirty soldier uniform. On a table in front of him were two large open wooden
crates with keys sticking out the tops. Each had blinking lights circling the
keys.

Blake raised
his gun and pointed it at the man. “Don’t move.”

The AB raised
his hands and grinned. “You’re too late! I have already started the countdown.”

Blake examined
the bombs and noticed that the timer had less than a minute left. He stepped
closer and put the end of his pistol between the man's eyes. “Turn it off!”

“Why would I
want to do that? I know that when I die, I will return to the creators.”

“I don’t have
time for this shit.” Blake pulled the trigger, and the AB hit the ground with a
thud.

Blake wiped the
splattered brain and skull fragments off his face and glanced at the other two soldiers
in the room. They shrugged their shoulders as they returned his gaze with an alarmed
look.

“Soldiers can
be brave when they fight an enemy, but how do you fight a bomb?” Blake thought.
He turned and stood in front of the bombs. The large keys were turned to the “on”
position. Blake watched the clock tick down.
30, 29, 28.

“Just try
turning the keys,” one of his men suggested.

He grabbed the
key closest to him and turned it counter-clockwise. At first, it didn’t move. He
used a little more force and heard it click. The key moved into the “off”
position.

He examined the
other clock, and it read
15, 14, 13
. He
quickly reached over and shut off the other nuke. “That was too easy,” he said
in bewilderment.

“After this
whole apocalypse, maybe we finally have some luck on our side,” he thought. His
smile was instantly gone when one of his patrol leaders ran down the stairs and
yelled, “You had better get up here!”

Blake and the
other two men ran up the stairs. He realized that all the soldiers were inside
of the building. He peered out the window and gasped. The building was
surrounded by thousands of ABs.

Blake made a
call out for an ammunition count. Each man checked and shouted out what they
had. Most were on their last rounds.

Blake couldn’t
believe how swiftly their luck had changed.

BOOK: AB (The Blake Reynolds Chronicles Book 1)
9.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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