Z. Apocalypse (22 page)

Then the plane was angling upwards, leaving the ground. Adam closed his eyes, trying to swallow his heart back down as it rose steadily up his throat. Within seconds the plane was soaring through the watery clouds that streaked the sky, the airfield already a crazy distance below. The two C17s were like model planes, one of them gliding forwards now, signalled by men the size of mites in hi-vis
jackets, fluorescent specks against the asphalt.

A harder, more nasal whine stole into the air now – the same hum Adam had heard on the airstrip. As he peered out to his left, he saw the wing of the VC-25 fizzle and blur until it had vanished all together. The body of the plane dissolved too, till Adam found himself looking at a haze of cloud and shadow.

‘Wow,’ he breathed. ‘That is
awesome
.’

‘Close the shutters on your windows, please.’
Oldman’s voice over the speakers made him jump. ‘Leave them closed at all times. It’s imperative we give no indication of our presence in Russian airspace. Electronic countermeasures are in force and radio silence will be maintained. Out.’

‘Here we go,’ Zoe murmured.

Adam nodded. ‘Remind me to breathe again once we’ve crossed the border.’

The aircraft
crossed into Russian airspace without incident – aside from the commotion in Adam’s guts as the tension took its toll – and the journey passed in slow, heavy silence. The hum of the stealth screen sent reverberations through the whole plane making Adam’s already sore head ache harder.

Often on planes, he liked to study the ‘sky map’ showing their position in the air relative to cities far below.
This particular aircraft offered an interesting twist – the TV on the wall showed the real-time view outside the plane as relayed by special cameras in the hull. The screen was split into four, showing the way ahead, the way they’d come, and all that could be seen to port and starboard. A bleary shimmer on either side signalled the reassuring presence of the two C17 Globemasters, flanking the
VC-25 in close formation.

‘That’s an hour we’ve been flying,’ Eve announced. ‘So far, so good.’

Mr Adlar nodded. ‘Another fifteen minutes till we reach the vicinity of the Geneflow base.’

‘We can do the math, Dad,’ said Adam quietly.

His dad ignored him. ‘We’d better warm up the equipment, Eve. Best to be ready.’

Zoe groaned, her hands clamped over her stomach. ‘This is like torture.’

Adam
nodded. While Eve and Mr Adlar got up out of their seats and started switching on their ramshackle rig, Adam’s eyes stayed glued to the shimmers on the screen, praying the planes remained hidden. Every muscle in his stomach felt ready to snap, his shoulders ached and his neck clicked every time he turned his head.

Then he saw it. A dark blur on the screen to the rear of the plane. A mark on the
lens? No. It was getting bigger.

Adam pointed, his mouth suddenly desert dry. ‘What’s that?’

Zoe had seen it too. ‘It’s a Z. rex!’ she shouted. ‘Switch that thing on!’

Eve stared at the screen. ‘It’s coming right for us!’

The plane banked sharply starboard. Zoe was strapped in, but Adam had undone his seatbelt and found himself thrown across the conference room, slamming into the table. As
the note of the engines rose like a mechanical groan, Eve and Mr Adlar struggled to stay standing, tweaking and turning
dials and settings on their machine. The rear-view image on the TV had shifted as they’d turned, and now showed nothing but cloud. But within seconds the dark blur returned, larger now. And another speck was catching up with it from behind. Dragging his eyes away, Adam saw more
specks rising up through the wisps of cloud.

‘Geneflow’s on to us.’ Oldman’s voice sparked from the speakers, rising over the urgent roar of the engines. ‘Z. beasts incoming. Bill, Eve, we need that jamming device.’

An electronic grinding noise started up from the mishmash of electrics. Mr Adlar hurled himself at the comms console and hit the intercom. ‘Signal transmitting,’ he yelled.

‘They’re
still coming!’ Zoe reported.

Adam saw she was right: the hideous, bloated figure of a Z. rex was forming out of the clouds, jaws hanging wide, hurtling towards the rear of the plane. ‘It’s not working. Why isn’t it working?’

‘That thing can’t be in range,’ Eve shouted.

The plane dipped sharply, and Adam nearly hurled. ‘What was that?’

‘Pilot must be trying to lose the Z. rex,’ Mr Adlar guessed.

Zoe pointed at the screen. ‘He’s steering us into
that
one!’

Another Z. rex, identical to the other in every
terrifying way, was on a collision course with the cockpit. There was an almighty booming clang as the monster impacted. The plane lurched so hard that only Zoe, still strapped in, didn’t kiss the carpet. Adam looked up from the floor, saw that a quarter of the screen was now darkness
and scales.

That Z. rex will tear its way inside in seconds
, he thought grimly.
It’s game over!

Chapter 24: Meeting of Minds

ADAM STARED AT
the screen in numb terror, expecting to hear the Z. rex tearing through the hull at any moment. But suddenly, the view of the sky cleared and the creature fell away; its limbs twitching, the jaws snapping open and shut uncontrollably.

‘The signal’s taken effect!’ Mr Adlar shouted, scrambling up to check the monitors. ‘Finally . . .’

‘It took so long
to get to work.’ Eve was frantically flicking switches. ‘I’ll try to boost the signal.’

‘Don’t!’ Mr Adlar grabbed her wrist and pulled her away. ‘If we blow the transmitter we’ll have no signal whatsoever!’

Adam was still staring at the TV screen. At the rear of the plane, a pterosaur just like Keera was drawing horribly close. At the last moment it veered away, wings stiffening as it tumbled
from view.

‘But if it only works when those things are practically on top of us . . .’ Eve’s protest trailed away as she stared at the awful images streaming live across the TV.

‘Oh, no,’ Adam breathed. With the president’s plane causing headaches, the two C17s had become the beasts’ prime targets. The carriers’ grey exteriors flickered in and out of sight as the untried stealth tech faltered
under the power of the prehistoric onslaught.

‘What about Zed?’ Adam’s finger stabbed at the starboard carrier. ‘He’s alone in there. If those things get inside . . .’

‘At least he stands a chance,’ Zoe countered breathlessly. ‘What about the soldiers in
that
plane?’ Against orders, she’d opened the shutter on her window, and Adam staggered across to join her. He bit his lip, feeling sick as
he saw Z. rexes and pterosaurs cluster over the cockpit, clawing at the hull, hammering tails and beaks against its battle-scarred bulk.

‘Oldman,’ Mr Adlar shouted, white-faced, into the intercom. ‘We need to get closer to the C17. If we can only clear them of Z. beasts long enough for us all to land and get those men out—’

‘If we get that close we risk a collision that could take us all out!’
Oldman shouted back.

The swarm of creatures continued their ceaseless assault, mauling metal housings, wrenching at the wings. Adam looked over at the screen and saw the other C17 was under heavy attack too. ‘We’ve got to let Zed out of there!’

‘Colonel Oldman,’ Mr Adlar tried to speak calmly into the intercom. ‘Release Zed – he’ll be more of a threat to the creatures like him, he might become
their priority . . .’

‘Buying time for my men to escape,’ Oldman agreed. ‘I’ll instruct the pilot to open the launch doors. Adam, I’ll patch you through to Zed – give him the order.’

Adam froze. He’d wanted Zed free to escape, not to become the prime target.

Mr Adlar rounded on his son. ‘Do it, Ad! Give Zed the order!’

‘Look!’ shrieked Zoe.

Working together, two Z. rexes had managed to rip
open the cargo ramp at the rear of the special ops carrier, the metal tearing like tinfoil. Soldiers spewed out from inside, freefalling in the arctic air. Some blasted bullets from assault rifles, others fired arcs of crackling yellow from electroshock weapons. One of the Z. rexes flailed in the blaze and lost its grip on the stricken C17. As it fell, for a second Adam thought the men might stand
a chance. But then the Z. dactyls appeared, dark jaws widening, snatching the soldiers from the sky even as they went on firing.

‘It’s a massacre,’ Zoe whispered.

Mr Adlar was back at the intercom. ‘Zed? Can you hear me, this is Bill Adlar—’

‘No. I’ll do it.’ Shaking and nauseous, Adam pushed himself away from the window and over to the intercom. ‘Zed . . . You’ve got to come out. People are
dying, so many people – Zed, if you can stop it, please . . .?’

He looked up at the screen. One of the monsters was tearing at the loading ramp at the back of Zed’s C17 when it swung open – and Zed launched out from inside, teeth bared, claws already swiping at the nearest Z. rex. Only now they were side by side could Adam see how much smaller and leaner Zed was compared to this new generation.
The sludge-coloured giant met Zed head on, biting at his neck with savage ferocity. But Zed squirmed free, spun around and clubbed his opponent around the head with his tail, a blow so hard it sent the Z. rex tumbling into empty space.

‘Bill, we’ve got to boost this jammer somehow.’ Eve was staring helplessly at the mass of wires as Mr Adlar crossed to join her. ‘If we can’t, none of us will
stand a chance.’

Adam watched, heart in mouth, as Zed launched himself into the monster feeding frenzy. He landed both clawed feet on the back of a pterosaur, gripped tight, then spun forwards in a loop-the-loop, releasing his catch as he did so like a living, scaly shot-put to take out the nearest two Z. rexes.

‘Hurry, Dad,’ cried Adam.

Zed landed on top of the C17’s starboard wing, and the
giant aircraft rocked as four of his lethal relatives set about him. He dealt one Z. rex a blow that tore red from its throat, before dispatching another with a flurry of kicks and body blows.

Come on
,
Zed
. Adam rooted for him in silence, every muscle clenched.

‘He’s doing it!’ Zoe was pulling at her red curls, rubbing them against her neck, rapt and breathless. ‘He’s not as strong, but he’s
faster . . .’

It was true; nimbler, more agile, Zed was able to dart in with his claws and then dodge out of range of the Z. rexes’ counter-attack. Blood stained the wings of the carrier aircraft. But then a pair of pterosaurs joined the battle. Each grabbed one of Zed’s wings and twisted hard in different directions. Zed screamed out with pain and rage, a hideous keening that rose above the
urgent rush of engines and the stealth generator’s nasal whine. He wrapped his tail around the neck of one Z. dactyl and twisted hard, breaking its grip. Wings flailing, the pterosaur sailed straight into one of the C17’s turbines and exploded into gristly chunks.

‘Dad!’ Adam shouted, tearing himself away from the gruesome scene. ‘Why can’t you
do
something?’

Mr Adlar looked up at Adam. ‘There’s
nothing we can do. But maybe . . .
you
can.’

Adam frowned. ‘What are you on about?’

‘The trace of your brainwaves in the Think-Send system.’ His dad looked to be thinking aloud. ‘We know you can boost U-R code just by concentrating – if we can plug your mind into the system here . . .’

Eve nodded. ‘It might boost the jamming signal?’

‘But it could be dangerous.’ Mr Adlar held up the Think-Send
headset, but looked conflicted. ‘This isn’t a game program, Ad – it’s random code, meant to completely disorientate those creatures.’

‘I know,’ Adam said impatiently. ‘But I’m not a slave animal. I have free will, like Zed, it won’t affect me—’

‘Not in the way it will affect them, no. But don’t you see, your brain has to receive the signal before it can boost it – and this signal was never meant
to mix with a human mind. It . . .’ Mr Adlar swallowed hard. ‘It could drive you insane.’

Adam hesitated, suddenly scared.

‘Quickly,’ groaned Zoe, white-faced at the window. ‘They’re tearing him apart!’

‘Zed thinks I’ve got his back.’ Almost without thinking, Adam snatched the headset and placed it firmly in position. ‘I’ve got to at least try.’

And if I go mad, at least I’ll never feel the teeth sinking in when they catch us
.

Eve was already switching connectors, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. ‘Good luck, Ad. God help us, here we go.’

Adam heard his dad voice last-moment doubts, but Eve hit the switch and—

The real world vanished.

Like a leaf snatched by a hurricane Adam was swept into a screaming, wailing nothingness. Flashes of sound and light sliced into his
senses. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. He was lost in a void of dark static that threatened to tear him apart.

This is the raw code
, he realized dimly.
The building blocks of an Ultra-Reality program
.
This is what’s being fed into the heads of those monsters out there
.

With excruciating effort, Adam tried to concentrate on the wild nothingness in his brain, tried to reach out and direct it.
But it was no good, he was being swamped, and the pain was enough to . . .

—Oh, man, great minds think alike—

Adam felt a jolt slam through his whole body at the sound of the voice. His
own
voice.

I’m going mad
. Adam’s sight was all black smears and static, but he could sense another presence in the maelstrom.
Someone else using Think-Send on my frequency, using my voice
 . . .?

—I can’t believe
you’re in here with me! Your
Think-Send, my Think-Send – we’ve connected and it’s, like, multiplayer!—

Multiplayer?
Adam’s head was still spinning.

—Well, kind of. What was it you told me in the tank? ‘I’m still you’—

And suddenly, Adam could sense his mirror image close by, the features of his face distorted by green reptilian ridges.
It’s you
–
I mean, it’s me. The clone of me
.