The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion Book 2) (4 page)

“C’mon, Jonas!”

“They got me! They got me!” Jonas thrashed about.

It was difficult to see into the room due to the angle, but Torran thought he saw hands digging at Jonas’s waist, or maybe it was a trick of the light and his own nerves.

Planting one boot on the wall, Torran strained to pull Jonas free.

Footfalls against asphalt drew Goodwin away from the struggle, leaving Torran to rescue Jonas alone. She whipped her weapon about and fired, the flash from the muzzle illuminating Jonas’s terrified face. Torran saw several dark shapes hurtling toward them out of the corner of his eye. Goodwin cut them down, but more appeared out of the tangle of trees encircling the area.

“They’re pulling off my boot! They’re pulling off my boot!” Jonas screamed.

“What the fuck?” Goodwin shouted

“To infect him,” Torran rasped. “Shit! They mean to infect him!”

“No! No! No!” Jonas screamed, the shrill sound squealing through the connection.

Looking up into Jonas’s dark eyes, Torran knew the truth instantly. Several pulses of his heart were all it took for the virus to take hold. Torran saw the life in Jonas’s eyes extinguish as he went limp. The virus was a quick killer.

With a furious, strangled cry, Torran released Jonas hands and watched his body be dragged back into the building.

“We need to go now!” Torran swung about, lifting his weapon and breaking into a run.

The area was clear for the moment, Goodwin’s marksmanship reducing the Scrags rushing them to pulp. Glancing toward the mines, Torran noted the bodies of his former squad continued to twitch as the virus took hold. In a matter of minutes, they’d be reanimated. So would Jonas.

“I don’t want to be one of them!” Goodwin rushed alongside the building, the black metal of her heavy firearm gleaming in the moonlight.

“You’re not going to be,” Torran answered, merging the comm lines so he could call base, but also keep track of Goodwin. “Base, the mining facility is under the control of the Abscrags. We need reinforcements now!”

“We are unable to comply or extract you at this time—”

“Then we’ll be dead and you’ll have more Abscrags to deal with!”

Torran pivoted about, sweeping the area with gunfire. Two Scrags tumbled to the ground. Meanwhile, dark figures skirted around the corner of the building and one of them raised their arm.

“Goodwin, take cover!” Torran ordered.

There was nowhere to go except into the woods. Torran and Goodwin crashed through the scrub brush and into the copse of fir trees. Torran frantically searched for a place to hide. A second later, a flash of light instantly rendered him blind, and his flesh crawled as a pulse of electricity swept through his armor. The speakers in his helmet squealed with a deafening noise. The display on his visor sputtered and died.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Torran hit the tabs on his helmet and swept it off. The cool fresh night air sifted through his sweaty hair as he furiously blinked his eyes. “Helmet off, Goodwin!”

Still unable to see clearly, he tried to get his bearings. Goodwin bumped into him as she flung her helmet aside.

“Sir!”

“I’m here!”

Back to back, the two remaining squad members held their weapons aloft. Torran strained to see through the massive spots obscuring his eyesight. The tapping of boot heels against asphalt sent shivers along his spine. Their enemies were coming closer.

“Alkan!” a voice barked out of the darkness.

“Looking for them, Reese!” a female replied. “They darted into the woods somewhere around here.”

“We need them,” Reese said in a fierce tone. “Without Martinez, we need more Anomalies to get into the city.”

“I know! Back off!”

These Abscrags did not fit the profile he’d been given. They were supposed to be of minor intelligence, able to use tools, and speak a smattering of words. These Abscrags were obviously intelligent and conniving. Therefore, they were much more dangerous.

The footfalls were steadily getting closer, and Torran urged Goodwin deeper into the thicket. His vision was clearing, but it was still difficult to move without too much noise. He doubted that the sound of gunfire from the battles in the distance was loud enough to mask their movements.

“At least the others will be rising soon. They can help us with this hunt,” Reese said ominously from the road.

“I’m going into the woods after them,” the woman named Alkan said in a fierce voice. “I’ll find them.”

It was still challenging to see, but Torran knew they couldn’t risk staying so close to the road. Tapping Goodwin on the shoulder, he attempted to signal to her, but realized that was foolish. Instead, he gripped her arm and dragged her behind him. Elbow out, gripping his weapon, he held his arm in front of his face and pushed forward through the tree branches. The prickly leaves scratched his face and caught in his hair, but he pressed forward, hoping to get some distance from the creature stalking them. It was tough to find sure footing, but he determinedly kept moving.

Goodwin stumbled along behind him. He got the impression she was recovering a bit slower than he was from being blinded. When the flash grenade had gone off, he’d been in the midst of looking away, so that had helped him not take the full brunt of the burst. It was becoming easier to maneuver through the thicket of pine trees as the spots in his sight cleared.

Nearby, a chorus of Inferi Scourge screeches marred the night. Torran had a suspicion it was his dead squad rising as Abscrags. The thought filled him with remorse and horror. He didn’t want to think of Rosario, Jonas, and the others transformed into murderous, smart Abscrags.

As his eyesight cleared, Torran moved faster, towing Goodwin behind him. He was certain they were being followed, for they were definitely generating enough noise, but he didn’t see or hear their pursuer. Of course, Alkan hadn’t been blinded, so she was able to be stealthier.

“I’m okay,” Goodwin whispered, tugging free of his grip. She heaved her weapon upward, ready to fire.

Taking a moment to study the way they’d come, Torran tried to discern if the tree boughs were being stirred by the wind or something much more dangerous.

“Keep close,” he said in a hushed voice.

Goodwin didn’t answer, but when he started moving, she was right on his heels. Cupping his hand over his wristlet screen, Torran accessed the map of the valley. The charge that had knocked out his armor’s electronics hadn’t disabled the wristlet. Since each citizen of The Bastion wore the wristlets from birth, they were made to be resistant to all forms of tampering, sabotage, or accidents. Even though he could use the wristlet comm device, he didn’t dare try to reach base again with the Abscrag hunting them. According to the readout on the tiny screen, they were headed in the right direction, but what would happen once they reached the exterior door of the subway? It was locked.

If only one Abscrag was following them, then they could eliminate her and make a run for the subway station down the road. Once they broke out of the wooded area, it would be easier to see who was pursuing them, and with this in mind, Torran quickened his pace.

Breathing heavily behind him, Goodwin maintained a close proximity.

By his estimates they were almost to the edge of the thicket when a sizzling noise sent both him and Goodwin scrambling for the nearest cover. Crouching low beside a tall tree, Torran searched for Goodwin in the gloom. It took him several seconds to spot her face down in the pine needles heaped on the forest floor.

The hissing sound continued and it took another few beats of his heart to realize that Goodwin had been shot with an electroshock gun. The weapons were used to subdue food riots in The Bastion. The rifles shot small black discs with barbs that attached to flesh and clothing and sent an incapacitating pulse of energy through their victim. Goodwin’s hands and feet beat against the ground as the surge paralyzed her.

Torran gritted his teeth and scanned the trees for the Abscrag pursuing them. One shot from an electroshock gun would render him unconscious. That’s how the Abscrags had subdued his people so quickly. But how did they get their hands on such a weapon? Blinking sweat and grit from his eyes, he tried to remember the range on the electroshock rifles. The Abscrag had to be close and definitely had the advantage. If he moved to recover Goodwin, the Abscrag would have him in her line of sight.

Swearing, Torran again dared to poke his head out and surveyed the area for the Abscrag. There was another hiss, and he ducked. The disc hit a tree nearby, bolts of energy crackling against the trunk. A rapid check of his ammunition readout on his weapon did not offer any comfort. He was running low and would have to reload. That would give his enemy an opportunity to rush him.

The night was full of violence. He could hear explosions, gunfire, and the screech of the Scrags in the distance, but the woods around him were strangely muted. The nocturnal creatures inhabiting the forest were quiet, most likely sensing a predator nearby. The Abscrag had no interest in animals though. She wanted Torran. She wanted Goodwin.

The crack of a branch snapping was followed by the audible movement of the Abscrag closing on his location. Taking a chance, he leaned out and fired in the direction of the sounds. There was a grunt, then two more sparking discs flew past him and into the night.

Torran checked his ammo counter again. Alkan knew where he was, but he wasn’t sure of her position. He pondered waiting until she made a move to retrieve Goodwin before attacking. His mind spun out possibilities.

Seconds later, they were all rendered moot.

The screech of Scrags filled the woods.

Menacing laughter followed.

Chapter 4

Recalling the maintenance cart Castellan Dwayne Reichardt had used to reach the subway station at the end of the line took much longer than Lindsey expected. Vaja had reopened all the security blast doors at the various intersections to keep it running at top speed to where Lindsey and the others were waiting, but it was still a long distance. Her boyfriend was watching the security feed and keeping her updated, but it was challenging not to feel disquieted by the fact that a dead Scrag was in the tunnels. A part of her brain kept wondering if maybe Denman could somehow return to life to attack her and the others.

Hobbes, Giacomi and Franklin stood at the base of the stairs leading down to the subway platform while Lindsey sat on the top step. The advertising vid screens were eerie in the darkness and a few old vending machines sat lifeless and empty on the landing below her. Though she’d seen footage of the old subways when they’d been operational before the valley fell to the Inferi Scourge, that time period seemed unreal to her. She couldn’t imagine a world without shortages, a crumbling infrastructure, and antiquated machinery.

“So are they going to fix your bum leg now that we’re taking back the valley?” Hobbes asked, plopping down next to her.

Lindsey gave him a long, speculative look out of the corner of her eye. “Why do you ask?”

“It’d be cool to have you back among us now that our duty won’t only be patrolling the wall,” came the sincere reply.

“Well, I don’t know how long it’ll take to get our resources to the point where they’ll consider fixing it,” Lindsey answered honestly. She was afraid to even hope they’d put her on the list for reconstructive surgery.

“It’d suck that they didn’t fix it. What the hell happened? Equipment malfunction or something? I heard they shut down the cloning wards for that reason,” Franklin said.

“The denial letter said the refusal was due to shortages.” Lindsey really didn’t want to discuss it. She’d been devastated when she received the official word. She’d wanted to rejoin Maria on the wall, but instead was trapped in the communication hub. If not for her illegal hacking, she’d have died of boredom.

“Sounds like equipment malfunctions. They won’t admit to how run down everything is,” Giacomi decided.

“SWD has some primo new uniforms though. Did you see them on the vids?” Hobbes shook his head. “Why do they always get the good stuff?”

“I heard they had their own reserves squirreled away before the gate fell. Constabulary is dependent on the city reserves, but SWD has their own thing going,” Giacomi replied.

“Is that true?” Franklin asked Lindsey.

“Hell if I know,” Lindsey shrugged, but suspected it was the truth. “I’m just a grunt.”

“Vanguard Grunt!” Hobbes saluted.

Lindsey refrained from hitting him, reminding herself that she was now their commanding officer. “Vanguard Rooney,” she corrected.

The mood sobered immediately.

Resisting a sigh, she realized that they were trying to adapt to the new pip on her uniform as much as she was. An incoming message from command was a welcome distraction. She toggled over to Petra.

“What’s going on?”

“There is only one survivor from the squad dispatched to the mining facility. He’s on foot and on the run. He’s running from what he’s calling Abscrags. He says they have electroshock weapons. SWD does not have a tiltrotor in route yet.”

“Electroshock weapon? How’d they get that?”

“A tiltrotor was overrun when it set down about an hour ago to dispatch a squad. Electroshock weapons were cached onboard,” Petra answered in a grim tone.

Lindsey knew the SWD liked to use the electroshock rifles during riots, but the Constabulary had been opposed to them since the weapons were known to short out the ancient battle armor the Constabulary soldiers wore. There’d been cases of SWD security forces accidentally hitting Constabulary soldiers while trying to break up food riots. The soldier on the run was in dire danger if the electroshock weapon had the same effect on SWD armor.

“What does this have to do with us?” Lindsey asked, wishing she didn’t sound so callous.

“He’s heading to the subway station. He’s requesting that the doors be opened.”

“Shit!”

“Lindsey, we’ll have to withdraw our hack from the system if the SWD agree to allow him entry.”

The maintenance cart rumbled up to the station. It was a squat gray vehicle that rode on the tracks. It had enough room for four people and a large tool box. The trio immediately scrambled down the stairs toward it, only Hobbes hesitating to look after her.

Lindsey waved him on.

“Keep me informed. The second Vaja detects the SWD logging into the subway system, tell him to get out. It’ll trap us temporarily, but we’ll deal.”

“You’ll have to proceed on foot if we have to shut down the maintenance cart,” Petra reminded her.

“It’ll be fine.” Lindsey climbed to her feet and shuffled down the stairs. “Just keep me in the loop.”

“Understood.”

Switching back to her squad’s comm line, Lindsey reached the cart and slid onto one of the front seats, adjusting her weapons and cane around her.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Franklin activated the cart, and it barreled down the track toward the outer doors.

* * *

Torran’s body tensed as he pressed one shoulder into the tree trunk. His mind searched for a viable plan to rescue Goodwin and get them both to safety. With a sick twist of his gut, Torran suspected there wasn’t a way to get to Goodwin without dire risk to himself.

The Scrags – or were they Abscrags? – noisily plunged through the pine trees, screeching as they sought him out.

Goodwin was out of reach and unconscious.

For certain, Alkan was nearby, waiting for him to risk rescuing Goodwin. She had the advantage. Alkan knew where he was hiding, but he still had no idea where she was located.

“It only hurts for a little bit,” Alkan called out.

The screeches of the Scrags were drawing closer.

“Just a bite. Pain. Darkness... then... life.” The woman’s voice sounded frighteningly near.

Daring to take a peek at Goodwin, Torran lifted his weapon, flipped on the scope, and scanned the area. Of course, the Scrags didn’t show up due to their low body temperature. The disc that had incapacitated Goodwin was silent now, it’s energy expended. Torran should be able to pick her up without being electrocuted, too.

Another disc slammed into the trunk a few inches from his head, spurring him to duck. The disc sizzled, arcs of energy crackling around the clawed edges. Alkan was somewhere in front of him, but where?

The noise of the newly made Scrags crashing through the woods was increasing in volume. He didn’t have much time left. Swearing silently, Torran mentally prepared himself for a charge to Goodwin’s unconscious form. He’d probably only have a few seconds to swing her over his shoulders and make a run for it.

The next few seconds were a blur.

Torran was just about to plunge into the open when a disc bounced off his weapon and barely missed his face.

The Abscrag had flanked him.

Alkan charged toward him, firing the electroshock rifle. It was sheer luck when he tripped and fell out of her range. The discs hurtled overhead and vanished into the trees.

A howl of fury echoed through the surrounding area.

Scrambling to his feet, he fired at the Abscrag. Alkan was eerily fast and he only caught a glimpse of her white face, dark hair, and battered uniform. Feet pounding against the uneven forest floor, he headed to where Goodwin had fallen while continuing to fire after Alkan to keep her scrambling for cover.

Torran was almost to Goodwin when he stuttered to a stop, breathing heavily.

A dark shape was bent over her.

The screen from Goodwin’s bracelet came to life, illuminating the face of a man with very dark skin and bright red eyes. He’d peeled off Goodwin’s glove and the motion had activated the wristlet. With a feral grin, he bit into the heel of Goodwin’s hand.

“No!”

It was sheer instinct that prompted Torran to action when he heard the hiss of the electroshock rifle firing. Throwing himself to one side and into the shelter of trees, he heard the discs soar past him. Again he fired at where Alkan had taken cover. The bullets sent the branches of the pines in motion, making it more challenging to discern if Alkan was on the move or not.

Goodwin...

He couldn’t allow her to become a Scrag. The ugly knot in his throat made it hard to breathe. Once again, he was the sole survivor of his squad.

Carefully skirting through the trees, mindful not to make a sound or brush against the branches, he moved to where he could take aim at Reese, the male Abscrag, and Goodwin. To his disgust, Reese was chewing the chunk of flesh he’d torn from Goodwin’s hand while watching the female soldier’s body writhe as the virus took hold.

Rage and grief filled Torran’s gut, making it hard to breathe, but he had to do the right thing.

Torran was about to fire when something moved just out of his periphery. He spun about to see Rosario rushing toward him at top speed. Her helmet was gone and her cheek was gashed open beneath red eyes. Aware of her body armor, he aimed for her face and fired. Rosario’s head snapped back and she tumbled onto the forest floor.

As the transformed SWD soldiers hurtled out of the darkness, a few were downed by the barrage of discs fired by Alkan as she attempted to take advantage of Torran being distracted. Torran sprinted through the woods and past his former squad writhing in the grip of the charge from the discs. The few that Alkan hadn’t hit gave pursuit, screeching.

“Fuck!” the female Abscrag shouted.

“Hit him!” Reese ordered.

“I can’t! My electroshock rifle is out!” Alkan replied.

“Take mine!”

Torran switched on the light on his weapon, illuminating his way. The Abscrags had him in view and there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be able to find a place to hide before they’d be on him. It was easier to move with the light revealing the obstacles on the forest floor.

The Abscrags were relentless in their pursuit. A few managed to get ahead and double backed in an attempt to charge him. Not faltering in his run, he fired directly at their heads, not wasting ammunition on their armored bodies. The faces of friends vanished into clots of bone, flesh, and brains.

The terrified soldier broke free of the trees and dashed across a field flanking the woods. Illuminated by the moonlight, the wild grass undulated in waves around him. In the distance were the spotlights on the high walls of The Bastion. Home had never looked so far away.

Reloading his weapon as he ran, Torran tried to block out the sound of the heavy footfalls that were gradually gaining on him. A few times he stumbled as his foot caught on gnarled roots, jagged rocks, and uneven patches hidden by the grass. Each blunder lost him valuable ground and time.

Activating his wristlet, Torran opened his comm to the SWD command. “Base, the squad has wiped. There are Abscrags at my location. They are armed with electroshock weapons. I need immediate evacuation.”

“Master Seeker MacDonald, find shelter and hold your position until we can dispatch a tiltrotor to retrieve you,” came the answer he did not want to hear.

Torran leaped onto the road that cut through the open fields toward the underground subway station. The asphalt was uneven, but at least he could see where he was going. A few seconds later, the sound of additional heavy boots slapping against the blacktop reverberated through the night.

“I’m in route to the entrance to the subway station. Please relay request for the doors to be opened.”

“Are Inferi Scourge in pursuit?”

Torran didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know that they were. He could hear their screeches and the pounding of their feet as they advanced on him. Yet he still needed to report in his status. He shot a quick look behind him. The Abscrags were definitely closing the gap. Their weapons hung at their sides, but his former squad seemed to have no interest using them. Instead they were snapping their teeth and growling out one word: “Hungry.”