HAYWIRE: A Pandemic Thriller (The F.A.S.T. Series Book 2) (39 page)

For the first thirty seconds, Justin heard only the casino machines.

Then came the gunfire.

Unrelenting gunfire.

Oh, God
, Justin had thought.
They could be shooting at Mom. They could be shooting at Mom for something I’ve got in my pocket.

But they weren’t shooting at his mother.

They couldn’t have been. As resourceful as she was, she wasn’t bulletproof, and Christov’s men were still shooting.

As he realized this, Justin heard something enormous crashing into the deck. It sounded like something gigantic and made of glass had fallen. Vibrations rattled the deck under him.

While Christov shouted orders into his radio, Justin dared a look around the pillar.

The casino entrance sat higher than the gaming floor, so Justin had a good view.

That’s when he spotted them.

He knew how they moved.

He knew how they searched.

He knew how they killed.

Crazies.

Hundreds of them. A gigantic pack of crazies. The casino’s noise must have attracted them. And the gunfire.

‘The flamethrowers!’ Christov yelled at his men. ‘Get back behind the flamethrowers!’

Justin saw the flamethrowers start spewing out their bright orange devastation into the horde of crazies swarming across the casino.

Some of Christov’s gunmen reached the flamethrowers in time.

Others didn’t.

The crazies ran headlong into gunfire until the firing stopped. Then they leaped upon the vulnerable gunmen like wild animals.

Christov’s men had too few flamethrowers.

The crazies were attacking from too many directions.

One man with a flamethrower went down with a crazy wrapped around his legs. More leaped on top of him. In seconds he was buried.

Justin got to his feet as a crazy sprinted up the casino stairs toward Christov.

He was completely naked.

His huge stomach bounced and flopped as he ran.

Christov lifted his flame pistol and fired.

The red cone of fire engulfed the man’s upper body before Justin turned away.

Then the smell hit.

Justin gagged. He couldn’t stand that smell a second longer.

Go! While he’s distracted! Run!

Justin ran.

He needed to escape Christov’s line of fire, but he couldn’t run well with his hands bound behind his back.

With every step he imagined the flames suddenly swallowing him from behind. He imagined the chemicals sticking to his skin. The unbelievable agony.

Running from Christov was as terrifying as running from the crazies.

Just steps from the next corner, Justin glanced over his shoulder.

He hadn’t run fast enough.

He wasn’t far enough away.

True to his word, Christov raised his flame pistol and fired at Justin without hesitation. The rushing burst of flames sprayed toward Justin’s back.

Justin saw the wall tiles glow bright orange beside him as the flames rushed to engulf him. The roar of the flames sounded like concentrated evil itself.

He ducked his head in terror.

Tied behind his back, his hands and arms ignited first. He raced around the corner with his hands and arms on fire behind his back.

I’m on fire! Water! I need water! I’m on fire!

But outside the casino there was no water. Just a giant model of the ship behind glass.

Justin saw his reflection in the glass.

At the same time he felt the pain receding.

He stopped running.

Wait. I’m not on fire. The heat was just...heat.

It felt like he’d held his arms inside a hot oven too long, but nothing more.

He missed me! I made it. My arms were never on fire.

Justin realized what saved him.

Christov had used his flame pistol, not one of the longer flamethrowers.

The pistol had a shorter range.

Justin had
barely
made it, but he had. The flames had reached his back for a moment, but none of the combustible chemicals.

He paused to catch his breath, but at the same time spotted another reflection in the glass.

Crazies came pouring out of the casino.

They might have been fleeing from Christov, but they were running toward Justin.

Justin took off sprinting again, hearing the sounds of a group of homicidal maniacs closing the distance behind him.

King ran behind Forest and Erin.

His left boot still felt slippery from the broken eggs.

He’d never seen so much food in one place in his life. The ship’s supplies of fresh fruit and vegetables alone looked gigantic. King ran past pallet after pallet loaded high with tomatoes and lettuces.

Forest ran point, weaving a path through the grid of pallets, trying to avoid the open areas.

Erin had brought them down here to avoid the crazies and the gunmen.

It half worked.

The crazies weren’t around, but the gunmen were right behind them.

They’re tracking us with the surveillance cameras
, King knew.
That’s the only way they could keep finding us so quickly.

King grabbed Erin and pulled her behind a pallet as gunfire harried them again.

‘They’re herding us,’ said Forest. ‘We need to get off this level.’

‘The refrigerator units,’ pointed Erin. ‘There’s a service elevator between the second and third unit.’

King looked. Each refrigerator looked the size of a mobile home.

More gunfire rang out.

One side of the pallet they were hiding behind collapsed. Bullets tore the wood apart.

An avalanche of watermelons spilled out.

The gunmen kept firing, blasting apart watermelons and sending pulp flying.

King had slipped earlier when a crate of raw eggs smashed in his path. Now raw egg coated his entire left side.

‘How are you for ammo?’ asked King.

‘One round left,’ said Forest.

‘I’ve only got two,’ said King. ‘But they don’t know that. Let’s make a run for the elevator.’

‘It’s swipe activated,’ said Erin. ‘I’ll run first.’

‘We’ll all run at the same time,’ said King. ‘We can only force them into cover once. After that we’re down to throwing watermelons.’

‘Ready?’ asked King.

Forest and Erin nodded.

‘Now.’

King leaned from behind cover, took aim and fired.

The four gunmen were closer than he’d thought.

They know we’re using non-lethal ammo,
realized King.
They don’t think we can seriously hurt them.

King fired low, knowing their body armor would block his electro-dart. As soon as he fired, Forest swung around him and fired his last round.

While King had fired low, Forest had fired high.

King’s electro-dart thumped into the closest gunman’s knee. The sharp electrodes speared into his kneecap and released their charge. The man thrashed on the floor like a shark was attacking his leg.

Forest’s liquidized rubber slug hit the next gunman in the throat. The slug hardened on impact, crushing the man’s windpipe. The man jerked backward. He hit the deck with both hands clutching his ruined airways.

‘Run!’ yelled King, firing his last electro-dart at the retreating gunmen.

This shot missed.

King took off running after Forest and Erin. Erin was in front. She reached the heavy steel refrigerators before the gunmen returned fire.

Bullets pounded across the refrigerator at chest height.

‘Get down,’ yelled King, but Forest was already diving behind the gigantic refrigerator.

King was running too fast to dive. He would dive right into the gunfire.

Then he remembered the eggs.

His left side was slippery from the broken eggs.

He dropped to his hip and slid. It worked perfectly. He slid straight into cover as bullets cut through the air above his helmet.

Erin hadn’t stopped running. She’d reached the elevator and swiped her card.

Forest turned to check King hadn’t been hit.

‘Go!’ yelled King, regaining his feet. ‘Get in there!’

Miraculously, the doors opened quickly.

King sprinted into the elevator and pressed his back to the wall for cover.

As the doors closed, no gunfire followed them into the elevator.

‘That was close,’ said Erin.

‘Where are we going?’ asked King. ‘What floor?’

‘Just three floors up,’ replied Erin. ‘I didn’t want them to catch us in the elevator.’

Good idea
, thought King. He was impressed by Erin. She was the type of woman who made a good case for having women in active combat roles.

The elevator doors opened and King instantly heard gunfire.

They were waiting for us!

Erin’s hand went for the elevator controls.

‘Wait!’ hissed Forest. ‘They’re not firing at us.’

King peered cautiously around the door. Forest was right. Four gunmen were standing shoulder to shoulder.

They were mowing down a charging horde of crazies with their submachine guns.

The deck was lined with restaurants and bars. The deck above looked the same. The two decks were joined by stairs and escalators. The upper deck’s large oval balcony overlooked the lower deck.

‘Where are we?’ asked King.

‘The lower back area of the ship,’ whispered Erin. ‘The fine dining boulevard. We’re under the main dining rooms, behind the promenade.’

King had his bearings now.

‘This elevator is dangerous,’ he said.

Forest pointed to some curved stairs leading to the upper level.

‘Okay. Let’s go,’ agreed King, glancing toward the gunmen. ‘While they’re still busy.’

Erin struck off first. King followed Forest and had nearly reached the top when the gunfire behind him stopped.

He heard someone yelling.

‘There! The Marines!’

He glanced over his shoulder.

Four gunmen wheeled around.

‘Get down!’ yelled King.

All three hit the deck and began crawling as four automatic rifles unloaded on their position. The polished wooden handrail flew apart, sending shards of wood flying toward them. The lights smashed above their heads.

The stairs led to a piano bar. The bar was shaped like a giant silver piano.

King looked where the bullets were pounding into the bar and toppling over black leather stools. Behind the bar, bottles of liquor and spirits on glass shelves exploded in colorful bursts of liquid and glass. One corner of the huge black piano splintered away as though someone were hacking at it with an axe.

Right now they were under the gunmen’s line of fire.

But only until the men came up the stairs. King heard their boots running for the stairs. He heard ammunition magazines bouncing on the marble floor as the men reloaded.

He had to act now.

‘Keep going!’ he yelled.

He leaped to his feet and ran back toward the stairs. He didn’t run straight back though.

Partway there he bent low, tensed his shoulders and braced his body as though making a football tackle.

He hit the piano with all his bulk.

If the piano legs were bolted to the deck, he was going to break the bolts off.

The piano wasn’t bolted to the deck.

It shuddered as King threw his full weight against it, almost lifting one side of it off the deck as he began pushing with all the strength in his legs and back.

On the smooth marble floor, King had the piano sliding at a good speed when it reached the top of the stairs.

With satisfaction he released a huge roar and toppled the piano down the stairs.

The first two gunmen running up the stairs never stood a chance.

While they were shooting bullets, King was shooting pianos.

Sideways, the piano was almost as wide as the stairs.

The first man collapsed under the rolling piano as though his bones were made of cardboard. The second man turned to flee back down the stairs, but didn’t manage a single step.

The piano rolled right over the top of him, crushing him to death on the steps.

The last two gunmen had no choice. They couldn’t go up. They had no time to go down. They both leaped over the handrail and fell to the marble floor below. The fall wasn’t high enough to seriously hurt them, but it slowed them down enough for King and the others to get a head start.

King looked for another service door. Erin’s superior knowledge of the service corridors had kept them one step ahead of the gunmen so far.

He couldn’t see one.

‘Quickly, in here!’ barked Forest.

It was just a restaurant, like dozens of others they were running past.

King and Erin ran in.

Once inside, King immediately saw why Forest had chosen it.

Forest knew they had only seconds before the gunmen who survived the piano avalanche would reach them.

King had taken down two of them, so that left two more.

The restaurant they’d entered was called the Siren’s Call.

It was a live seafood restaurant - meaning the diners’ chose the particular fish or crab or lobster they wanted to eat from inside the tanks lining the walls. Hurricane lamps hung from the ceiling, along with rope nets, fishing rods, wooden oars and all manner of maritime oddities.

Erin ran through the kitchen to find the restaurant’s service entrance.

Forest was tired of running.