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Authors: Greg Hanks

BOOK: Intended Extinction
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37

Roger Celement
led a group of soldiers down a metal staircase. Oil and rubber filled their nostrils. Jersey City was working tirelessly above them, unaware of the escalating agenda about to commence. Precious information sat at the base of Roger’s tongue. As he marched toward the military humvees, his mind worked furiously.

How am I going to do it? What kind of torture would inflict the greatest amount of pain? Bending fingernails? Ripping teeth? Breaking bones? Multiple bones?

His team moved past him and occupied the vehicles. Celement hopped in the front seat of his particular choice, and turned to his driver.

“Did you bring the tools I requested?” he asked in a proper, almost high-pitched voice.

The driver nodded underneath his black, armored suit. Celement turned to the window and felt a rush of endorphins fill his body. He inhaled and smiled as if he were a child going to Disneyland.

Celement was a thin, gaunt man with short, tabby hair. His cockeye wandered about, unable to settle on one point while engaging in conversation. His smile was a squished prune, producing tiny bubbles from his hyper-productive salivary glands.

As the humvee pulled out of the garage and bounced across the road, Celement thought about their destination. He imagined places that would double as a torture premise, or a scenario that could utilize all of his tools.

After a lengthy ride, they passed through the crumbled gate and parked in front of the only untouched building in the demolished compound. Celement opened his door and smelled the fresh sea air, which he promptly spit back upon the debris-ridden floor.

This is the final project. This will get me to the top. When we succeed, it will be me sitting at that table of idiots, instead of that stupid bitch, Sapphira.

Once his team had collected their equipment, loaded their weapons, and secured their armor, everyone surrounded Celement.

“We all know the plan,” said the cockeyed fellow. “I chose this group because you were the best we had. Remember why we’re here. We take our target and the boy. We kill the rest. But don’t get too trigger happy,” he paused, as if smelling a sweet aroma, “I want to have my fun with them before the night is out.”

As the team approached the compound, Celement caught a glimpse of a sign, protruding through a pile of debris. The words only empowered him as he read:

ELLIS ISLAND STERILE COMMUNITY

38

“We’re not
trained for this,” said Bollis.

We had been stewing over the attack for a good fifteen minutes.

“This was like nothing we’ve prepared for,” he continued. “What if GenoTec has more of these?”

“So you’re just going to quit then?” sneered Vexin. He and Bollis had never really gotten along too well.

“What happens when we walk into Jersey City and find another one of these—twelve more of these?! I’m starting to get the feeling we know
nothing
about GenoTec!” He stomped away, fuming from the ears.

I wasn’t expecting that sort of blow up from Bollis, of all people. The usually calm, mild mannered mentor was having a meltdown. I didn’t like it. To me, Bollis embodied the hope I had in what I was doing. He had always given me strength and security, a knowing that I could count on him. But seeing him like that, it was a little unsettling.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Bollis!” snarled Vexin. They stood toe to toe. “We’ve been waiting long enough. We’re running out of time. I didn’t give three years of my life just to argue like a bunch of children.”

“Vexin’s right,” said Vane, bringing down the gavel. I was startled by his cold, raspy voice, pricking my ear like a burrowing insect. “We move on. We can deal with this later. Right now, you five have an objective to finish. Celia and I will take care of this . . . thing.”

Maybe the reason Bollis was so upset was the fact that he considered himself responsible. He didn’t want anything to happen to us. After Vane, he was surely our leader. In fact, I often viewed Bollis at a higher state than Vane. There was something to be said about the teacher who worked amongst his followers, instead of staying back, watching like a vulture as his subordinates were consumed.

“Bollis . . .” said Dodge, shaking his head ever so slightly. He was the only one capable of calming Bollis down. His tone was stern, yet full of caution. Dodge knew just as much as I that Bollis couldn’t afford to break down. It would affect us all.

Vexin took the opportunity to lead and said, “Let’s move.”

We left the oozing corpse behind us and hurried to the Vista. It felt incredible to be back on solid ground, unfettered by the water’s hands. We powered through the rest of the tunnel, up the stairs, and through the giant Vista doors.

Celia directed us to where we needed to go. Bollis went to configure the power, Vexin was sent to take the emergency hull covers and patch the hole, Tara and I started to find the jamming equipment, and Dodge was left to clean up the vine-like mess that the creature had created.

As soon as Bollis finished, Celia overrode the system and allowed him time to help Vexin with the patch. Vexin stood upon a ladder, tinkering with the shredded hull, trying to avoid the water. Bollis waited below, holding a malleable slab of metal in one hand, and a rivet gun in the other.

“What the hell?” said Vexin. I could hear his voice in my helmet, but Tara and I were too busy to check.

“What?” asked Bollis, dancing around the incessant flow.

“There’s like a—there’s like some kind of room up here.”

“What are you talking about?” Bollis tried to get a better view.

“I’m telling you, there’s an attic up here. And it’s—God, it’s filthy. The water’s coming from a second roof.” Vexin and Bollis continued to debate, while Tara and I didn’t have time to wonder what they were bickering about.

“What is it supposed to look like?” I asked Celia as we ran along the edges of the room, scanning for the jamming mainframe. Celia seemed frustrated having to explain twice, but described some kind of large disc hanging from the wall.

“Here!” said Tara, rushing beside me.

Just as her torch illuminated the mainframe, the Vista’s own lights came on like sparkling fireworks. After an initial struggle, the place lit up like an Olympic event.

“Hell, it still works!” shouted Dodge with a tentacle over his shoulder.

“I
knew
it would,” Celia said.

Tara and I configured the jamming equipment and got it running as Dodge approached.

“I give up,” he said. “That stuff is too engrained.”

“It’s responding!” Celia sighed in relief.

I could taste the satisfaction in her voice. I couldn’t fathom the time and effort she had given to Genesis. And now, to be so close to the end. Her dedication humbled me.

“Just take the damn patch, Vexin!” Bollis and Vex were still arguing. Vexin’s body was halfway through the roof, standing upon the highest tier of the ladder.

“You gotta see this!” Vexin shouted, barely audible over the rushing water.

At the far end of the tunnel, something rumbled, shaking the entire concrete structure. The giant undulation felt like an underwater earthquake.

The gushing water bridged our silence. We stood taut, ready to move at the slightest inkling. I watched the Vista entrance as if I were watching a terror attack on national television.

Celia’s voice came through as a garbled harbinger of death. “
They’re here!

I could barely capture Dodge as he flew out of the Vista.

39

Dodge barreled
down
the tunnel’s gullet, us in tow. All I could think about was Celement. I brought my rifle around and held it straight, suppressor aloft. We reached the door to Central just as another muffled explosion came from inside.

Dodge whipped his M580 from his back and practically slammed his fist into the door release. No matter how many times he pressed it, the massive slab wouldn’t budge. Aiya was out of commission, too. We were
this
close to stopping Celement from killing Celia, Vane, and Justin, yet we couldn’t do anything about it.

Dodge swore loudly at the door, hitting it with his palm and looking around in desperation.

“Get a damn grip!” growled Vexin, pushing Dodge aside. Before Dodge could retaliate, Bollis stepped forward with a handful of plastic explosives.

Thank God.

“You brought some?!” Dodge said incredulously.

“I always do,” said Bollis, kneeling to prepare the charges.

I looked at Tara, who wouldn’t take her eyes off of the door. It was Justin. She was only thinking about the eleven-year-old boy who was probably dead by now.

“Okay stand back.” He stepped away, holding a device the size of a thumb drive. “Eyes up—when this thing goes, we’ve got to make every shot count.”

Once everyone took a safe position, Bollis ignited the bombs and the solid concrete became a pile of rubble.

The first bullet whizzed by my head like a demon hornet. The second door had already been breached. We immediately took cover on either side of the threshold, situating ourselves and waiting for Bollis to give the word.

“Go!”

Dodge knelt down, issued a few cover shots, giving Vexin enough time to lob a grenade out into the fray. Not a second after the small bomb left his fingertips, Tara and I broke away from the pack and showered the opening while Dodge and Bollis crouch-ran through the antechamber and took positions behind fallen pieces of concrete. Once our clips were exhausted, Vexin came out with a hearty round of shotgun shells, giving Tara and me a chance to join the party.

Everything was doused in a thick layer of black smoke. Central looked and felt disfigured in the light of dancing flames, my tinted visor, and the frequent crack of gunfire. It’s like we weren’t in Central at all. This room was a war zone now, changed forever.

Just as I reloaded fresh magazines into my weapon, two soldiers dressed in the same inky, bolstered armor sprouted up around the crumbled tall pillars of what was once the control platform. One came low and one high. Bollis’ ELBR dispatched the one on the floor, putting three holes in his visor, while I sent the other flying to his back.

On the elevator side of the room, Tara, Dodge, and Vexin were wreaking havoc. Each shot made contact. We were so meticulous and aware of our surroundings. I heeded no fearful emotions. I felt no remorse. All I registered was the smell of fresh carnage. And it only made me stronger.

Vexin’s shotgun obliterated a soldier’s head, while Tara colored the other wall with two bodies, leaving Dodge to precisely pick off three others with his M580. In the moment, it seemed almost beautiful.

We had successfully flanked each side of the pedestal, leaving nothing in our wake. It was the fastest minute of my life. My breath was short, my fingers tense. I felt alive and ridiculously powerful. Once our rampage had ceased, the silent atmosphere brought a foreboding realization with it.

The final body to drop was the lucky metal-head to have his stomach blown out by Vexin’s Stauss 4. The corpse clanked on the cold floor, while Vexin cocked his weapon, discharging the killing shell to its victim.

“They’re not here!” shouted Dodge.

We were searching frantically for our friends, looking underneath the remains of the control platform. I flung piece after piece of technology and rubble, hoping desperately to find any sign of Justin. I was a frenzied mess, along with Dodge, trying to uncover what simply wasn’t there.

“Over here!” yelled Tara.

Everyone converged on her position like bloodhounds.

“No!” exclaimed Dodge in such desperation that I felt my heart fall thirty stories.

It was Celia. Her lifeless body was twisted in an unnatural state, half covered in fallen concrete. The only thing recognizable was her thick-rimmed glasses.

“No,” mumbled Dodge, unlatching his helmet and cradling her body, “no, please, God, no.”

Tara was kneeling beside the two, while the rest of us watched in awe as one of our best friends lied in Dodge’s arms like a piece of trashed meat. I felt my body quake inside. My burst of energy and excitement was gone in a matter of seconds. All that was left were feelings of despair.

In the midst of the chaotic depression, I heard a cough.

“Celia!” shouted Tara.

She was alive! Her eyes started to flicker, and she began to breathe.

“Justin,” she gasped, “Vane!” Her voice was hoarse and barely audible.

“Where?!” asked Vexin.

“Celement,” she wheezed, shaking her head. “He took them.”

Damn it.
I didn’t want to believe it.

“They’re worse than dead,” mumbled Vexin.

“No,” I said adamantly, surprising myself. “We’re
going
to get them back. I don’t care if our preparation got cut short.”

Everyone looked at me. I never spoke out like that, and remarkably, it felt good. I could sense the respect of the others layering upon me.

“Mark’s right,” said Bollis, taking the reins, as per usual. “It’s time to put an end to all of this.”

Celia tried to say something, but her words were lost in a deadly cough. Once she gathered her strength, she said, “We need Vane’s mission log. Primary.” She lay limp again, bolstered by Dodge’s arms.

Bollis started dishing out orders. Vexin was sent to the Armory to gather supplies, Tara made her way to The Safe to make a first aid bundle, and I was to retrieve Vane’s mission log—in Primary. As soon as I heard the assignment, a chill ran through my bones.

Bollis was already two steps ahead of me, opening the Liberty Vista tunnel door and prepping the antechamber. I assumed he had a good idea of what was going to happen. I pushed invading thoughts from my mind and pressed on to Primary.

Something caught my attention before I passed through the door. A crumpled piece of paper lay on top of the elevator control post, held by a chunk of broken concrete. I trudged over to the strange message and ripped it from its place.

You fail, Genesis. I will enjoy torturing the boy.

 

I crushed the paper in my grip. The mockery sent me through the roof. Scribbled on a dirty piece of stationary, letting us know we weren’t worth any more trouble than that. Standing there in the hellish atmosphere, I felt something I wasn’t expecting. Everything terrible experience I had endured over the last month began to bloom. A corrupting, lustful desire to inflict harm upon Celement—upon GenoTec—began to flow from my body. But not because of my own anger. It was because of my yearning to save the members of Genesis. I wanted to give my own life for someone else. For the first time in my short existence, I was more concerned for another person than I was for myself. This wasn’t what I had felt with Tara. This was different. Every inch of my being wanted to do
everything
I could to fight for Justin and Vane. I threw Celement’s note to the ground, infused with a new kind of vigor.

When the voices in my helmet became overbearing, I knew I had spent too much time in front of the elevator. I didn’t plan on showing them the note. For some reason, I felt like it was meant just for me. I put my new feelings into motion and jogged over to Primary.

Primary hadn’t been touched, which bothered me. Celement didn’t want anything to do with Vane’s secrets? His trove of knowledge? Did he even know about Vane? He had to. Celement took him, after all. I couldn’t waste time thinking about it, so I chalked it up to GenoTec’s hasty retrieval. Maybe if they had Vane, the rest didn’t matter.

I moved past the large table and approached Vane’s ominous door. This was the only part of the Underbed I had never seen. The door was locked tight, and with Aiya gone, I wasn’t exactly sure how I was to open this magical chamber. I looked around, seeking a switch, a release, or anything that would help me. I overturned shelves, knocked over boxes and miscellaneous junk. I knew time wasn’t on our side, and I became frantic.

“Aiya!” I shouted in frustration. “Emergency protocol! Open the door to Vane’s office!”

There had to be a way to stabilize her. Central was blown to pieces, but wasn’t Aiya linked to the entire Underbed? I looked around the room one last time. The Safe. If there was some kind of backup power system, it would be there.

“Tara!” I said, “I need you to look for some kind of secondary system for Aiya. The door to Primary is locked. I need her.”

“I’ll look,” she replied, sounding flustered.

I waited impatiently, pacing the room, calibrating my rifle and trying to be productive.

“Okay,” she said, “I found some kind of switch, but I’m not sure if this—”

The lights flickered and the entire complex went black.

“Crap,” she said.

Everyone else started to chime in, wondering why their whole world had been plunged into intense darkness.

But then, in a pillar of golden, gleaming luck, I heard the angelic voice respond to me.

“Back up power systems recalibrating,” said Aiya, and the lights blinked on again.

“Nice, Tara!” I walked back over to the door and asked Aiya again.

“I cannot process your request,” she said, “Vane has secured his premises for his protection.”

“Aiya,” I fumed, “GenoTec has compromised us! I don’t have time for your stupid games! I need the mission log!”

“Mark, I cannot process your request. My system functionality does not allow access.”

I dropped my head onto the cold metal of Vane’s impenetrable door and felt my world collapsing. We would have to do without the damn mission log then.

“Underneath the betrayal,” said a hoarse voice through my communication device. My eyes perked open as I registered Celia’s odd remark. Suddenly, the door I was leaning on jolted and started to ascend.

“Access granted,” said Aiya. I watched as the door of secrets opened before my eyes. I stood in awe for a moment, but then remembered why I was there.

Primary’s inner sanctum wasn’t much different from other rooms in the Underbed. Solid concrete walls with thin strips of red paint, computer interfaces, mainframes, and . . . an array of at least twenty-five little monitors hanging from the back wall? I left my duties and approached the strange apparatus. My reflection looked back at me as I stared into the screens. What the hell did Vane use this for? I scanned the room, looking for any sign of something recognizable.

“All right, everyone,” announced Bollis, “let’s get moving!”

I was starting to get tired of the constant chatter in my ear.

Another door stood to the right of the screens. I knew I should have left, but my hankering for answers carried me through the threshold.

It was Vane’s room. The bed was made. The surfaces gleamed. There was no clutter or trash. Everything seemed normal—except for the circular elevator in the back corner. He had his own personal elevator? It must have been the reason he was always absent from the Underbed. Where would he go all the time?

“Mark!” urged Bollis. “What’s taking you so long?”

I left the question unanswered, and returned to the computer room. I found the mission log—a wireless flash drive—thanks to Celia’s directions. I snatched it from Vane’s desk, and rushed out into the fray once more.

Everyone was gathered around the Liberty Vista doors, ready to go.

“Can you walk okay?” asked Dodge, carefully holding Celia’s weight.

“Yeah—er—I’m fine,” she managed to say.

Tara was loading her lumbar pouches with medical supplies, while Vexin zipped up two canvas bags, filled to the brim with more weaponry. I looked over at Bollis, who was using an emergency terminal that folded out of the wall.

“Aiya,” he said, loud enough that the rest of us could hear, “what kind of activity is going on up there?”

“The Liberty Vista exit is secured; no signs of life within a two mile radius of the station. The captors have evaded my range of information, so I am unable to give their location. However, I assume they are on their way toward GenoTec Headquarters.”

Bollis turned to our sorry group and said, “We’ve still got a job to do. Let’s show them we’re not messing around.”

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