Island 731 (39 page)

“Thirty seconds!” Drake shouted.

Thirty seconds? Until what?

The creature let loose a pain-fueled roar. A long, slender digit spiraled through the air, landing at Hawkins’s feet. Drake had severed one of the aye-aye fingers!

And then he was flying through the air. Where the creature had been playing with Hawkins, he had no doubt it would now quickly rend them limb from limb as easily as he would a rotisserie chicken.

Hawkins turned to run, but a gun aimed at his chest stopped him.

Pulse, pulse
.

Hawkins felt hot breath on his back. The creature stood right behind him, mere inches away from killing him, but stopped at Bennett’s command. Drake got to his feet, clutching his ribs, his knives gone. He stood next to Hawkins.

“To reward your bravery,” Bennett said, “I’ll allow you to choose how you’re all going to die.”

“Fuck you,” Drake growled.

“I was talking to Hawkins,” Bennett said. “So, what will it be? Should I let this little skirmish conclude and keep Joliet alive until I get bored of her? Or should I put a bullet in each of your heads right now, starting with Joliet and finishing with you?”

The answer was a simple one. Hawkins would rather them all die now, and quickly, than allow Bennett the chance to torture and mutilate Joliet. He’d only have to live with the pain of seeing her die for a few moments before he joined her. He was about to say as much when Drake clutched his arm. Hawkins looked into the captain’s angry and still confident eyes.

“I saw Bray,” the captain said, not quite a whisper, but still not loud enough for Bennett to hear.

“What was that?” Bennett asked, sounding annoyed.

Drake held Hawkins’s gaze, ignoring the threat. “You ready, Ranger?”

Bennett put the gun to Joliet’s head. “Answer now, or I’ll decide for you.”

“Give me five more seconds,” Hawkins said.

Bennett looked flabbergasted. “Five seconds? What do you need five—”

A bullet tore through his shoulder, spinning him away from Joliet.

Hell followed in the single round’s wake.

47.

Between the rotor wash and the thunderous chop of the Blackhawk helicopter that had arrived just fifty feet overhead, it felt like a tropical storm had rolled in. Only it wasn’t rain falling from the sky, it was bullets. A single soldier, dressed in black Special Ops gear, leaned out of the open helicopter’s side door. He fired a blaze of gunfire from an assault rifle that just barely shook his shoulder.

The only thing that kept Hawkins, Drake, Joliet, and Bennett from being cut down was the fact that the soldier had seen Kaiju after taking the shot that clipped Bennett’s shoulder. Seeing the greater threat, he’d adjusted his aim and opened fire. But the monster was faster than the man expected and the rounds chewed up the earth behind its feet.

Bennett, eyes wide and on the helicopter, barely noticed Joliet climb to her feet and run to Hawkins. He clutched her in a tight, protective hug.

Five more helicopters surged past overhead. The Doppler wave of rotor chop was nearly deafening. Two split to the left, coming to a stop over the research building. Two more continued on course and a third arced to the right, heading for the farm.
This is an island-wide invasion
, Hawkins thought.
They really are going to wipe everything out
.

Joliet pulled back and shouted, “Let’s get out of here!”

“Not without Bray and Blok,” Hawkins replied, searching for some sign of their missing crew.
Any second now …

Six thick, black ropes unfurled from the sides of the helicopter. Soldiers emerged and began sliding toward the ground. The man providing cover fire from the helicopter ran out of ammo and quickly reloaded. But the delay was time enough for Kaiju to change tactics.

The giant monster completed its dash in a tight turn, bringing it on course for the six defenseless men slipping down the lines toward the ground. It leapt in the air, impossibly high, and just before careening into the lowest man, flipped itself over. The man became a pin cushion as an array of oversized, neurotoxin-laced porcupine spines punctured his body armor, fatigues, and flesh. The beast continued its flip with the man stuck to its back. When it landed on all four legs, momentum carried the man forward. He was flung to the ground with several of the quills protruding from his body like he’d just had a close encounter with an Apache hunting party.

Without pause, the creature snapped its tail out and snatched a second soldier’s leg just before it touched down on the ground. The tail flailed back and forth, smashing the man to the ground three times. On the third strike, something cracked and the man never stirred again.

This wasn’t the same creature Hawkins had been fighting. That version of Kaiju had been like a mischievous cat toying with a mouse. This version was something closer to a whirlwind of wrath. As he watched each highly trained, heavily armed soldier die in seconds, Hawkins realized how lucky he was to still be alive.

A third man reached the ground and even raised his rifle, but never got a chance to pull the trigger. The monster closed the distance between the two of them without releasing the last man from its tail and swiped at the shocked soldier with its polar bear claw. His head came free as easily as a ripe apple from a branch.

The three soldiers had all died in just over five seconds, which was the same amount of time it took the man above to reload. He opened fire again, this time catching Kaiju off guard, striking her arm twice. With a roar and a twitch of her tail, she flung the dead soldier toward the chopper. The spinning corpse struck one of the lines, jolting a fourth soldier free before crashing into the side of the helicopter. The helicopter spun as the pilot reacted to the jolt and, for a moment, the soldiers’ descent slowed.

In that momentary reprieve, the enemies on the ground took stock of each other.

Bennett turned his eyes from the helicopter to Hawkins. The gun was by his side, but he raised the small black remote in its place.

The monster turned to Hawkins, too, but made no move for him. The soldiers above represented a far greater danger to it, Bennett, and their home.

And the soldiers above—they called for backup.

The second helicopter arrived with a roar of twin turbines, sweeping around the clearing in a wide circle. Hawkins recognized it as an Apache attack helicopter. Between the minigun attached beneath the chopper’s nose and the missiles mounted to its small wings, the chopper was capable of decimating large numbers of targets. He doubted even Kaiju stood a chance against the Apache, at least not out in the open.

Mixed with the thunderous chop of rotor blades, Hawkins heard the high-pitched whine of the minigun beginning to spin. In a few seconds, it would unleash a stream of high-velocity rounds that could shred metal, concrete, and humans with equal ease.

But before the helicopter gunner could pull the trigger, a horn blast louder than everything shook the earth and sky. The Apache spun, though not out of control. It was simply acquiring a new target. A hellfire missile tore from the helicopter’s wing with a loud
shhh
, followed by an enormous explosion that plumed smoke into the sky and silenced the horn.

They must know what the sound triggers
, Hawkins thought, though he knew it was too late. Every living thing on the island would have heard the sound.

Then the chaos really began.

Two more Blackhawks arrived. Ropes dropped from the sides. Soldiers descended like waves of army ants.

Kaiju tore into the soldiers still clinging to the ropes of the first chopper as it righted itself over the clearing again. But this time, it clung to the cables. The sudden weight pulled the Blackhawk down and the pilot lost control.

Bullets began to fly as soldiers officially got boots on the ground.

Hawkins, Drake, and Joliet ducked for cover, huddling by the gallery wall.

Bennett made a beeline for the cover of the jungle, heading south. Through the chaos, Hawkins could feel a repetitive pulsing in his ears. Every conditioned chimera on the island would be in a frenzy.

There was a roar of pain as several rounds struck the monster. It let go of the drop lines and fell to the ground. But it was too late for the chopper. The Blackhawk spun out of control, falling sideways to the ground. It crashed in the jungle. There was no explosion, but the rotor blades snapped free. One of the flung blades flew from the jungle, cleanly severing a palm tree trunk and one of the soldiers at the waist.

More gunfire erupted and Hawkins thought Kaiju was done for. But then—

“Hawkins!” The voice was closer to a shriek. Blok. He was running fast, as though charging the soldiers, but only because what followed at his heels was far more frightening.

Twelve oversize black spiders with turtle shells and prehensile tails scrambled up the path.

The soldiers’ attention became divided between Kaiju and the spiders. Guns roared all around. Hawkins saw a red laser dot appear on Blok’s chest. He found the source just ten feet away. A soldier looked down the sights of his weapon, finger on the trigger.

They’re here to kill everything and everyone,
Hawkins remembered. “No!” he shouted and charged out of his hiding spot.

Hawkins grabbed the assault rifle under the barrel as the soldier pulled the trigger. He felt a three-round burst shake his arm as he yanked the weapon toward the sky. The soldier spun in surprise, pulling the weapon from Hawkins’s hand, but not in time to stop Hawkins from landing a punch on the side of the man’s head, which was unfortunately protected by a helmet. Luckily, the soldier was stunned enough for Hawkins to land two jabs to the man’s face.

It was a good start, but the soldier was a pro. He spun the assault rifle, wrapping its shoulder strap around Hawkins’s extending arm. With a yank, the trained killer pulled Hawkins in close and delivered a kick to the chest, right over Hawkins’s five long wounds. The pain crippled Hawkins, dropping him to his knees. The man drew a long blade, and raised it over his head. As the knife descended, aimed for Hawkins’s face, a hand reached around from behind the soldier, clasped the knife-wielding hand, and redirected the blade into the soldier’s own gut.

The soldier doubled over, revealing Drake. Joliet stepped past him, reached down, and yanked Hawkins to his feet. “It’s time to go, Mark!”

Hawkins turned to where Blok had been. He saw the man on the ground. Part of his head was missing. A spider leapt upon his back, jabbed him three times with its stinger, and then charged a soldier. Some of the giant spider chimeras had been mowed down by the gunfire, but their speed made them hard targets and their shells protected them from most of the rounds. As a result, five of the soldiers already lay on the ground, twitching from the inside with rapidly growing young. There would soon be many more creatures to deal with.

But the soldiers kept arriving, as well, and several of them who’d witnessed Drake and Joliet save Hawkins now turned their attention to the human threat.

Once again, the action was interrupted by the arrival of a new force. Their arrival was forecast by a resonating rumble and shaking ground. The stampeding herd of cattle arrived like a flood, surging through the line of soldiers like they were nothing more than dead trees.

The Apache helicopter finally opened fire as the men were trampled. Gouts of blood exploded into the air, merging with the wails of slain cattle.

Spiders leapt through the air, stinging soldier and cow indiscriminately.

The giant bull arrived, fresh tentacle wounds on its back and sides, bucking its head and horns wildly, sending men and spiders flying.

Here was Bray’s chaos.

No one would see them flee into the jungle.

Hawkins turned with Joliet and fled toward the trees where Drake, and now Bray, waited for them. As they slipped into the jungle, leaving the battle behind, Hawkins took one last look back and quickly noticed something that filled him with dread. Amid the raging cattle, stinging spiders, and gun-blazing soldiers, there was no sign of Kaiju.

The monster had fled, no doubt following after Bennett.

Who’d headed south.

South
.

To the boat.

48.

Nothing stirred in the jungle south of the gallery. Hawkins wasn’t sure if it was the bell Bray continuously rang that kept the draco-snakes at bay or that they’d been summoned by Bennett. But the jungle was clear and allowed them to move quickly, first at a sprint, then a jog, and now a fast walk as exhaustion set in. Hawkins guessed it was two miles to the south shore. Had he been well rested and not beaten, he might have run the entire distance, but in his current condition, even their current pace was a struggle. Every part of his body hurt, his chest and lungs most of all. But he pushed past the pain, for Joliet, for Bray, for Drake. They’d come too far and survived too much to give in to something like fatigue.

They moved in a tight group. Drake led the way, armed with a single butcher knife, which he used to hack away the occasional vine or branch obstructing their path. Hawkins and Joliet followed close together, and Bray brought up the rear, ringing his bell.

The sounds of the battle weren’t exactly far behind them—perhaps a quarter mile—but were so muffled by foliage that the soldiers’ gunfire sounded like distant fireworks. It was as much of a reprieve as they were going to get.

“What happened to you?” Hawkins asked Drake.

“Not entirely sure.” He motioned to the blood staining his clothes. “Woke up like this. I have a few fragmented memories. Like dreams. I’m pretty sure I was delusional. Wandering the jungle. Must have come across something that set me off. Could’ve been one of those dracos. Hell, could have been a goat. Or a cow.” He shrugged. “I woke up a few hours ago. Found my way to the farm. Helped myself to some food. Just started to feel a little bit more like myself when Bray shows up, gives me the short and nasty version of what happened to you all, and here we are.”