Catalyst (Book 1): Decay Chains (27 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

DAY ONE—HOURS INTO EPIDEMIC: 00:03:15

Heels clacked and a door slammed. Stormy thought it was Vector’s ghost. Same blue suit, same short blonde hair. But it couldn’t be her.

The woman’s eyes settled on the devastated lab. She ran and slapped a red button on the wall near the door. Vector’s ghost had one hand on the door handle when Stormy started shooting. Three bullets whizzed across the lab. It only took one in the back to send her to the ground.

Wide, unblinking eyes passed over Stormy. Before anyone could utter a word, the woman stopped breathing and her whole body drooped. A red flash caught Stormy’s eye. Her last action had been to set off the alarm system.

Stormy straightened up and stepped back. An embroidered symbol on the woman’s lapel caught her attention. Blue and yellow chess pieces: a king on its side next to a queen. Now it made sense.

“Nice to meet you, Check Mate.” She stepped over the dead operative. “You look just like your sister.”

She caught up with Josh and helped him carry the only surviving crates of antivirus out of the freezer. “They’re on to us.”

“Gas is next to Doc. Ready to go,” Josh said.

As they passed Matt, she eyed him, but he never moved out of his slump. Stan kneeled close to Dr. Louboutin, but he looked like he wanted to be across the room. The doctor had calmed down some, but was still belligerent and unapologetic. Injector in hand, Stan tried to administer the antivirus, but Dr. Louboutin wasn’t having it.              

Stormy’s blood raced through her veins, which worried her. The spot where the needle had pierced her skin throbbed like freezer burn. Was it adrenaline or was she in for a rude awakening? Her worst fear had always been failing. She had planned to put a bullet in own her head if she was ever infected. It never occurred to her that she might not see the signs or even realize it was happening.

She felt so in tune to Matt now. The way she sensed him had always been strong, but nothing like this. She always knew when he was in the room, no matter how crowded it was. Put them on separate ends of a packed concert arena and she would find him, easy. But now that feeling had intensified, like she breathed for both of them. Put him on the same continent and she would sniff him out. And it scared the hell out of her.

Stan gave up on making Dr. Louboutin see the light. He volunteered to help douse the lab in gasoline even though he could barely walk. Stormy urged him to wait in the van, but he ignored her. She didn’t feel like arguing and it would be faster to just let him help and get this over with.

Stan stumbled and damn near fell on his face. Stormy made him sit down and dress his wound before he passed out. She picked up his gas can and went to work. The gas wafted through her nose as she spread it along the tabletops and over the computers. Dr. Louboutin coughed spurts of blood. He called out to her. She ignored him. 

“Listen to me,” he said. “You need to know what I know.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not real thrilled with you as a person,” she said.

“Let a dying man talk.”

Stormy kept pouring.

“I’m not the bad guy. Matt was.”

“Yeah, you had nothing to do with this.”

“I was forced into this.”

“Not the way I remember it.”

“You want to know what really happened or not?”

She kept pouring. Standing still. Right in front of him. “Go ahead. Talk your head off. But be quick about it. We’re leaving.”

The stream of gas threatened to seep into his pant leg before she stopped and took a step back. Josh grabbed the can from her and anointed the other side of the lab.

“The deal was this.” Dr. Louboutin hacked up more blood. “I can’t breathe because you poured that shit all over me.” He wheezed like a decrepit smoker. “Cold World set aside a research team and directed their scientists to start testing a strain of the virus to create—”

“Smart supers like Matt?”

“They’re calling it the MTK strain.”

“Yeah, we know,” Stormy said.

“But it was a double-cross, and they knew it. They never planned to hand the virus over to Matt, even though that was the deal from the get-go. He let them run tests on him right after Reamer. He should’ve known better. The deal was always headed south. And then he showed up and started tearing the place up and snapping necks. He killed this poor researcher who just got engaged. Nothing was going to stop him.”

“You bastard!” Stan said. “You enabled him.”

“At first I did, but I’ve been captive most of the time. I was either here or in his direct line of sight. But I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I’m not a research scientist.”

Dr. Louboutin coughed up what looked like coffee grounds. That changed the whole tone of the conversation.

“Doc, take the damn antidote.”

“I don’t trust it.” Dr. Louboutin looked down at his trembling hands. “I’m too far gone anyway, I think.”

Josh stopped pouring gasoline and turned toward the group. “Got more good news.”

“Oh goody,” Stormy said.

“Look up.” He pointed to a monitor hanging above the overturned lab station.

“Doc, how do you make it quit flashing from room to room?”

“Press and hold the freeze button.”

Josh punched a button at the bottom of the monitor. The frame solidified on the front parking lot. A parking lot packed with cop cars. People exiting the ground floor of the building amplified the commotion.

“Fuck,” Stan said.

“We need to hurry up and get out of here,” Josh said. “Before they figure out about the lab entrance in the back lot.”

“We aren’t leaving this place intact,” Stormy said. “We have to torch it first.”

“We might not leave then,” Stan said.

“Almost done,” Stormy said. “We’re one lighter flick from being out of here.”

Stormy didn’t trust Dr. Louboutin, but when he said he could help them permanently destroy the research it caught her attention.

“I built a back up plan a few days ago. For this reason,” he said. “It’s in my brief case in the car. It’ll blow this fucking place straight to hell.”

“I can run it,” Stormy said.

“Don’t do it, Stormy. It’s a trap,” Josh said. “He’s probably got the car rigged to blow.”

“There is a bomb in the car, but I want to blow this place up with it,” Dr. Louboutin said.

“I don’t want you to do this,” Stan said. “The cops already surrounded us. You’ll be shot to shit.”

“You know I’m the only one that can make it,” Stormy said. “Doc, where’s the detonator?”

“Stormy, listen to me dammit,” Josh said.

“And the keys,” Stormy said.

“Stormy,” Josh shouted.

“Josh, this will work,” she said. “We need a distraction to get out. You think the cops are going to hold their fire while we take off?”

“In my pocket,” Dr. Louboutin said. “The keys and the detonator are in my pocket.”

“Not going after your bomb until you hand them over,” she said.

Dr. Louboutin rolled on his side. Josh knelt down and pulled the detonator out.

“Son of a bitch.” He flipped the device over in his hands. “I wish Ian could have a look at this. Stormy, it looks pretty shoddy to me.”

She ignored him. “What do you drive these days, Doc?”

“A black Camry. Parked all the way in the back. I didn’t want to come closer with that thing in the car, unless today was the day to use it. Sorry.”

He coughed and rolled flat on his back. “Hurry up before I turn into one of those fucking things.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

DAY ONE—HOURS INTO EPIDEMIC: 00:04:12

The grenade hit about twenty yards over and pulled the gunfire with it. Stormy pumped her arms and sprinted out the door in the opposite direction. She made it down the sidewalk and past the handicapped spots before drawing gunfire. Some shots hit pretty close, even though she bobbed and weaved between the cars.

She could feel the grit bite at her legs after it chipped off the cement. Both feet cleared the ground when she jumped off the sidewalk in mid-stride. With the cars as cover, she headed to the back of the lot. The curbs created obstacles as she bounded through the hedges and dividers between the vehicles.

Windows gave in to the rain of gunfire that chased her. For the first time, the thought occurred that she might not make it the whole way. Then the few cars that were shielding her were gone and it was just Stormy versus the bullets. But she had to make it, she was already halfway across. Halfway across and she still had air left in her.

She breathed deep and allowed the chill in the air to dry out her throat. Her eyes watered. She looked down to find the next curb and then looked over her shoulder for the trail of gunfire.

That bullet was close. Way too close. She cringed but kept going. The butt of her gun banged into her calf, hard. It stilted her and set off her rhythm. Another curb to jump, and then she was in the back row. Her breath hitched when she exhaled. She pushed herself harder.

Her gun banged into her on every stride now. Her hands flattened out like Superman’s. The car was four spots over. Something bit into her calf and it wasn’t her gun. She flew into a red truck and her face smashed into the side of the bed. Warm blood crawled down her leg. They got her, but it was just a graze.

The bullets hit closer now. She had to get moving. Sprinting was harder once you stopped, but it was still her preference over being shot to death.

She smashed into the side of the Camry. Her hands hit the glass first. She dove in the passenger side and stabbed the keys in the ignition while switching seats. The car came to life. She thought about the seatbelt for a second.
Fuck it.
She lay her hand across the back of the headrest and reversed the whole way back, just like Ian showed her. Weaving around the parked cars turned out to be a real bitch. She pressed the pedal all the way to the floor anyhow.

Bullets dinged against the car and destroyed its sides. Stormy couldn’t duck, so she prayed instead. She thought about driving the car into the building, but the briefcase in the seat was set to blow. Bad idea.

Josh pulled one of the building’s doors open when she came into view. She kicked the car door open and picked up the briefcase.

“Stan’s loaded up,” he shouted. “Doc won’t go.”

“Just fucking go,” she shouted.

A bullet took out the glass door to his side.

“Come on already,” Josh shouted.

A grenade hit the ground between them.

“Go,” Stormy shouted, right as the grenade went off.

She dove back into the car and over the bomb. Once she realized she hadn’t blown up, she scrunched her eyes shut and hyperventilated. She couldn’t believe the explosion didn’t set the bomb off. Must not be that type of bomb.

The entire backend of the car was on fire, right where the gas flap should be. Her door was missing too. She couldn’t see Josh. Did he get out of the way in time?

The pain didn’t register until she tried to get up. Her entire pant leg was blood red, and three charred pieces of metal were sticking out of her thigh. She swallowed hard and tasted blood. Her ears were killing her and everything sounded muffled. The pressure inside her head didn’t ease when she swallowed. Her head was about to burst and her thigh already had.

She tried to exit the car again and this time it felt like her leg was being branded. Tears welled up in her eyes. The car’s windshield exploded, propelling shards all over the car and across her face. A swarm of shots engulfed the car. She compacted herself into a tiny ball in the driver’s seat.

Her eyes pinched themselves shut over tiny pieces of debris that felt like boulders, but cut like notebook paper. She had thought she wouldn’t escape Reamer and she feared her plans for Vallexor would collapse on themselves. She braced for death when Matt threatened it, but she knew she wouldn’t survive this.

Each shot was closer to its mark. Cops shouted over their sirens. Footsteps scurried and then stopped shuffling altogether. She cringed at every noise. They knew they hurt her. They knew they had her and now they were moving in for the kill.
I’m not who you think I am. You’ve got this all wrong.

Every time she tried to open her eyes, they watered and pinched themselves shut. She muffled her own cry as she rubbed one eye, and then the other, but the debris wouldn’t dislodge. Her tongue bled where she bit into it, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. With clumsy fingers, she tried to find the offender again, even though she would rather fight a mountain lion or catch flaming coals. Anything would hurt less. Even being shot to death.

Five tries in, she figured out there was only one fragment in her right eye. After she wiped the sweat away, her left eye offered a blurry view of a parking lot full of determined police. She sniffled as she raised her head to peer through the steering wheel. Steps and a gentle thud on the hood alerted her that someone was edging toward her. Time was up.

Right eye pinched shut, the other giving hazy vision at best, she slid her weapon across her lap. With a metal ring, she attached the brief case to her belt and dragged her bad leg out of the car. She was three feet from the doors and dead certain she would never walk through them, but she wasn’t about to sit tight and let them have her.

She couldn’t imagine what pressure was going to feel like on her leg. Sweat dripped into her wounds and it stung like hell. She spit blood onto the floorboard, tucked the rifle butt into her shoulder, and set her other foot down on the pavement. One shot at this. That was all she had. If she fell, it was over. She didn’t bother collecting a decent breath first. There seemed little point.

Stormy moaned as she stumbled. She couldn’t help it. Her fingers found the car and braced her as she hopped down its length. Shouting followed her as the cops promised to do their worst. Two of the whole herd closed in. They were almost upon her.

Josh reappeared in the doorway. He motioned for her to move to the side. Stormy hopped over a few steps and then he let off a steady stream of cover fire. She was almost to the door when her calves became rigid, like charley horse rigid. Unable to support her own weight anymore, she broke under the pain.

Josh’s expression was horrific as he watched her fall. She tried to smile and let him know it was okay, that she wanted to go out like this. But her mouth could only grimace. The pain wouldn’t let it do anything else. When she fell amongst the broken glass and hot shells, her fingertips brushed up against the doorframe. She had been that close. That damn close. 

Josh had two options at that point: keep shooting cover fire and hope Stormy would crawl in on her own or try not to get shot as he pulled her to safety. He must’ve chosen the latter because when Stormy came to, she was halfway inside and Josh was screaming at her to move. His head bled streams down his neck. Given how sticky her hair was, and the way her face cracked when she breathed, her head was definitely bleeding too.

She ground her elbows into the floor and low crawled the rest of the way inside. Josh let one more spray of bullets off before forcing Stormy to stand.

“Fuck no. Let me go.” Something popped and her hearing wasn’t muffled anymore. Her own voice surprised her.

“We’ve got to go, now. Everyone’s waiting,” Josh said. “Move.”

Stormy had never heard him like this, but she didn’t care. It hurt like hell and no amount of shouting was going to change that. “I can’t.”

“Move,” Josh said. “Come on.”

He wasn’t listening. Stormy refused, but he pulled her arm over his neck and gripped her middle. They were halfway down the hall when she could go no farther. All she wanted to do was slump against the wall, puke, and pass out.

“Stormy, we’re almost there.”

“No, we aren’t.” Her words sounded slurred. “Where’s Stan?”

“In the van. Fuck, they’re coming. Stormy you’ve got to go faster, okay?”

“What?”

She knew he was talking to her, but he was fading in and out. She strained her open eye to see where they were. It looked like they had finished out the hallway and were headed downstairs to the lab. Josh had parked the cargo van at the supply entrance on the far side of the lab. They had a ways to go. She would try to make it to the van, but if the cops caught up to them, she would make Josh leave her behind. Even if it meant shooting herself to get him to do it. He needed to get the others out of here, not risk everything for one half-dead girl. Catalyst didn’t die with her. Their mission didn’t stop to safeguard her well-being. She thought he knew that, but maybe Josh forgot.

All she wanted was to stop moving. Just a small rest. Her entire lower half throbbed. Her eyes were red-hot pokers that singed the slashed skin around them. She wiped away a tear, only to realize it was blood.
Why the fuck is my eye bleeding?

“Almost, Stormy. You’re doing good.”

“Thanks, Josh,” she said. “For everything.”

“Don’t say goodbye to me.” Josh pointed the gun over his shoulder. “But you can tell these guys to fuck off.”             

Once the lab door was thrown back, and she could see the server, survival felt like a real possibility. Each step forward brought her closer to the van. The firing party didn’t start in on them until they were halfway across. Josh looked back when he heard the door swing open. He pushed her into a wall and they rode it the rest of the way to the back door, while he returned fire. The cops ran to get better shots, but the pair hobbled behind the server.

Matt’s body was gone. She knew his outline well and it wasn’t against the wall where she had left him to die. “Where’s Matt?”

“Dunno. He was there one minute and gone the next. I was loading Stan when it happened.”

Warm vomit pooled in the back of her throat and threatened to come up for a visit. She spit and jutted out her chin. Nauseous or not, she could man up till they got to the van. A bump surged around her sealed shut eye. She was afraid to touch it. The damage was fine with her, so long as Stan could fix it. The door was mere feet away. The edges of her grimace turned up. It looked like there might be time to do it all. Before Josh pushed her out the door, he unlatched the brief case from her side.

“You still have the detonator?” Josh asked.

Stormy pulled the device out of her pocket and dropped it into his palm. She held the doorframe with both hands as she searched the room for Doc. He lay crumpled in the same place he had been before, on the floor in front of the server. At least he hadn’t turned. She didn’t want that for him. Before she wanted to watch him die, but not now. Deep down, she never really meant it.

Josh pushed Stormy back again. “Go on. I got this.”

She leaned against the exterior wall. “I’ll wait here for you.”

“Be right back,” he said.

Stormy counted backward in her head as she waited. It was only a matter of time before the cops figured out about the supply tunnel and surged at the entrance. She hoped that by then they would be on the highway where they could lead a good chase, but she wasn’t optimistic about that prospect.

She started counting at 60, figuring a minute was enough time for Josh to toss, detonate, and run back out. He was back at her side before she mouthed 29. He sturdied her and then pretty much threw her in the back of the van. Before she even managed to sit up, he jumped over her and hauled ass to the driver’s seat. The van raced up the tunnel at a speed that easily exceeded what it wanted to do. Stormy damn near fell out the back when she tried to close the doors. On her second attempt, she managed to slam them shut. With nothing left, she collapsed in the space between the doors and Ian’s twitching feet.

The bomb ripped apart and then incinerated the building. The blast pulsed through the van and bashed Stormy into the back of the driver’s seat. Josh lost control of the van, but regained it before they slammed into the side of the tunnel.  

Tremendous waves of heat battered the back doors and slinked inside the van. Chaos devastated in a beautiful way she would never be able to fully articulate. The rush of color definitely had something to do with it.

“Get me out of here,” she shouted.

Josh’s eyes never left the windshield. “Working on it.”             

Stan’s arm wrapped around Stormy and dragged her to him. The haze turned orange before it went filmy. The autumn colors of the explosion seeped through objects in their path to get to her, while the vibrant colors of death and destruction curled up around everything in sight. Garden-variety oranges and reds blurred in and out as they hung in the air and then slowly fell on the bodies that lay about.

She strained to see clearly, but it only made the pounding behind her eyes worse. Tears streamed down her cheeks. The colors rushed her. She batted at the air in an attempt to push them away. The colors remained, which proved this was all in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, counted to ten, and tried again. Still no sight in one and now the other was closing up too. Entire blocks of her vision were gone, and with every blink, she lost more of her periphery.